by Hillary Avis
“OK, suit yourself. See you at home after dinner service.”
Bethany eyed her yellow bike locked up in the alley next to Café Sabine’s recycling bin. It was the perfect day to take Daisy out—sunny and bright, even thought the temperatures were still cold. Unfortunately, Bethany had some business to take care of before she could ride on her favorite route along the waterfront.
Time to talk to Ben about the kiosk situation. She sighed. She hated to be a complainer, but she also didn’t think Marigold was really being a team player. Bethany could be serving bread with her soup and Olive could be making soup to go with her sandwiches and rolls, but they weren’t. If Marigold wanted her kiosk to succeed, she needed to find synergy with Souperb Soups and Honor Roll—not compete directly with them. Really, Bethany was doing her a favor by filing a complaint.
She knocked briskly at the door to the stationmaster’s office. Ben Kovac answered, his collar unbuttoned and his eyes so weary they made his face look like a Basset hound’s.
“Make it snappy. I have to do the track maintenance before the 1:55 comes in,” he grumbled, motioning her into the office where Caboose, Newbridge Station’s fluffy orange mouser, lay curled up on his desk.
Bethany scratched the cat’s chin and he stretched out, purring, so she could better reach his belly. “Why isn’t Trevor doing it?”
“Trevor,” Ben said derisively, “hasn’t finished the sprinkler system repairs, and I can’t pull him off that because it’s a safety violation. So I’m stuck doing his job and mine. What do you want?”
“Marigold changed her kiosk name.”
“So?”
Bethany shifted uncomfortably. “To Souperior Soups. She’s basically made her kiosk a carbon copy of mine. Can you talk to her about it?”
Ben sighed. “Can’t you talk to her first?”
“I did! She seems pretty gung-ho. And I’d rather not file a complaint with Zamrail if I can avoid it...” She hoped that leaning on his distaste for paperwork would motivate him to put the kibosh on Marigold’s new venture.
Ben threw up his hands. “Just what I need. It’s not enough that this building is crumbling around my ears, now I have a soup mutiny.” He picked up a keyring bristling with keys, and Caboose startled at the noise, jumping off the desk onto the office floor. “Listen, the fleabag and I have to do the rounds. But I’ll bring it up with Marigold tonight at our weekly poker game. She’s usually more amenable to discussion when she’s had a couple of martinis. Maybe I can talk her out of it.”
Bethany smiled. “Thanks, Ben. I owe you one.”
“Everybody owes me one,” Ben muttered as he and the cat followed her out. “Wish some of them would pay up.”
“THAT MARIGOLD IS A shady lady.” Kimmy shook her head disbelievingly. “‘Souperior Soups’? Superior to whose?”
“Mine, I guess.” Bethany heaved a sigh and took a sip of her chamomile tea.
“Not possible. Has she ever made a soup in her life?”
“Who knows. Smoothies are kind of like soup. I mean, I blend some soups. And there are fruit soups, like cold dessert ones. So maybe she’s right, and hers will be better.”
Kimmy pulled a patchwork quilt over her lap and snuggled into the shabby green sofa where they sat. “You are just making excuses for her now. On Julia Child’s grave, I swear I’ve never had better soups than yours. That Greek one you made this morning blew my mind, it was so good. You have nothing to be worried about.”
Bethany put her tea down on the coffee table. “What am I going to do if my kiosk closes, Kimmy? No restaurant will hire me in this town, not after what happened last year.”
“Nobody remembers that.” Kimmy gave her a sympathetic look. “And if they do, they also remember that you didn’t do anything wrong.”
Bethany shook her head and willed herself not to cry. “That kind of rep sticks with you. No restaurant wants that notoriety.”
Kimmy scooted over and put her arm around Bethany’s shoulders. “Come on, now. That’s your fear talking. You’re thinking like ten catastrophes into the future. Some shady lady is not going to put you out of business. She’ll try, and you will crush her. You don’t even have to compete—you just keep doing you.”
Bethany grinned in spite of herself. “Yeah, I will. I am going to crush Marigold by pretending she doesn’t exist.”
Want to read more? Order Rest In Split Peas now!
Books by the Author
The Death du Jour Series:
CRIME CHOWDER (Book 1)
Risky Bisqueness (short story, Book 1.5)
Rest in Split Peas (Book 2)
Chili con Carnage (Book 3, February 2019)
Lentil Death Do Us Part (Book 4, March 2019)
Other Books by Hillary Avis:
KERNEL OF DOUBT (A Neela Durante Mystery)
The Season for Slaying (short story)
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