Death of an Italian Chef

by Lee Hollis

  And that made her shudder.

  Chapter 19

  Hayley smirked as she and Christy marched up the stained carpeted stairs of the two-story building on lower Rodick Street adjacent to the town pier, behind Norman Hubbell, the acting landlord. Norman was only “acting” landlord because his father was the one who actually owned the structure. But since Norman Sr. had recently suffered a stroke and was home recovering, Norman Jr. had taken over as manager, responsible for collecting rent, overseeing appliance repairs, and generally keeping watch over the place. Norman relished this new role, because at twenty-eight years old, he was still living at home with his parents, with no girlfriend or job. Finally, with this tiny modicum of responsibility, he had a real sense of purpose and a firm grasp on what little power his new position afforded him.

  Norman, who boasted a beer gut and was hopelessly out of shape, huffed and puffed his way up the steps, leaning forward to grab the rail in order to assist in the task of heaving his bulky body upward. Unfortunately for Hayley and Christy, who were close on his tail, Norman’s saggy jeans slipped down enough to expose a huge butt crack.

  Hayley turned to Christy and whispered under her breath, “I promise the views in Acadia National Park will be far more picturesque.”

  Christy stifled a chuckle.

  When Norman, with great effort, finally hoisted himself up from the last step to the second-floor landing, he had to stop a moment to catch his breath.

  “I told Dad he should install an elevator. Maybe now that I’m in charge, we’ll finally get that done,” Norman sputtered, breathing heavily.

  “We really appreciate you doing this, Norman,” Hayley said.

  Norman nodded, waiting until he could breathe in and out without gulping for air before responding. “Well, normally we have a strict rule not to allow anyone into an apartment without the tenant present, but since Fredy told me his niece was coming for a visit, and he did show me a picture of Christy—you’re even prettier in person, by the way—I don’t see the harm in letting her in to wait until Fredy comes home.” Norman attempted a seductive wink, but closed both eyes instead of just one. He tried one more time, failing again. Closing one eye while leaving the other open, apparently, was not one of Norman’s innate superpowers.

  “Thank you so much,” Christy said gratefully.

  Norman stared at her with a longing gaze that was borderline creepy, more Norman Bates than the usual harmless, socially awkward Norman Hubbell.

  They all stood on the landing, Norman scratching his backside while still locked in on Christy like a rifle-toting hunter focused on an unsuspecting deer innocently grazing in a meadow.

  Hayley cleared her throat. “Norman?”

  Norman snapped out of his reverie, reached into his pocket for a key ring, and rifled through all the keys until he found the right one. He unlocked the door and swung it open, ushering Hayley and Christy inside.

  The blinds were drawn and it was dark inside and a musty odor permeated the air. Hayley flipped a switch on the wall next to the door and the kitchen and living area of the modest one-bedroom was suddenly bathed in light. Mail was scattered on the floor that the postman had pushed through the slot on the door, at least several days’ worth of letters, bills, and flyers.

  Hayley walked into the small kitchen as Christy bent down to inspect the mail. There were unwashed dishes in the sink, a plate, some silverware, one glass, and a cooking pot caked with what looked like gooey cheese. Hayley glanced into the small plastic trash can in the cupboard underneath the sink and saw a torn-open box of Kraft macaroni & cheese. Hayley guessed that this may have been Fredy’s quick dinner before his shift started on the night he disappeared.

  Christy moved to the small kitchen table and sat down as she rummaged through Fredy’s stack of mail.

  Hayley then checked the bedroom. The bed was made, although hastily; there were some underwear briefs flung on the floor, the bathroom was in need of a cleaning, toothpaste smeared the countertop, and the mirror was smudged with streaks of soap. A used toothbrush stuck out of a plastic drinking cup next to a nearly empty bottle of mouthwash. It didn’t look like Fredy had had time to clean the apartment before his niece had been scheduled to arrive.

  Hayley walked back out to the living area where Christy was finished going through the mail. That’s when she noticed Norman still hovering in the doorway, staring hungrily at the back of Christy’s unsuspecting head.

  “We don’t want to keep you any longer, Norman. We know how busy you must be,” Hayley said evenly, crossing to the door.

  “Huh? Oh, yeah. With Dad out of commission due to his stroke and all, everything’s been laid at my doorstep. You have no idea how much pressure I’ve been under running things—”

  “It must be very hard,” Hayley said, resisting the urge to add, . . . for someone who hasn’t worked a day in his life.

  Norman ignored her and kept his eyes glued on the lovely visitor from Honduras. “If you need anything, Christy, don’t hesitate to call me, day or night. I live just a few blocks away, so I can be here in no time at all.”

  Christy spun around in the chair and gave him a friendly, but disconcerted smile. “You’re very kind. I will do that, Norman. Thank you.”

  She might as well have said, I want to marry you right now and bear your children, Norman, the way the young man’s chubby face suddenly lit up, his fleshy cheeks rising so high they nearly swallowed his eyes whole.

  “O—okay, then, right,” Norman sputtered, seemingly trying in vain to think of a reason not to leave, but failing that, he finally turned his bulky frame around, giving them one more unsolicited look at his half-naked backside. Hayley quickly shut the door to block out the sight.

  “Do not call him for any reason,” Hayley warned. “That is serious stalker material.”

  Christy grinned. “I promise.”

  “Find anything?”

  Christy solemnly shook her head. “No, some bills, mostly junk mail, flyers with coupons, that sort of thing.”

  Hayley noticed a calendar stuck to the side of the refrigerator with a Golden Girls magnet. She walked over and noticed yesterday’s date circled with Christy, 10:30 PM scribbled above it. She removed the calendar and magnet and set it down on the kitchen table for Christy to see.

  Christy picked up the magnet. “Fredy loved watching the Golden Girls reruns on TV when he was growing up. He says that’s how he learned to perfect his English. Talking like an old retired lady from Miami.”

  Hayley smiled and pointed at the note on the calendar. “He didn’t forget you were coming.”

  “Ten-thirty. That’s when the last leg of my flight arrived from Boston. He wrote it down so he wouldn’t forget.” Christy then glanced up at Hayley, distraught. “What could have happened to him?”

  “Don’t worry, Christy, we will find him,” Hayley said reassuringly, although she was still completely stumped on just how they were going to do that.

  Christy stood up from the table, her arms wrapped around her waist, hugging herself, and wandered aimlessly into the living area to the window. She stopped and stared out at a back alley. “What am I going to do? My uncle is nowhere to be found. I brought very little money with me because Fredy paid for my travel expenses and promised to take care of me while I was here. What few dollars I did have on me I used to pay for the taxi ride from the airport to the hospital.”

  “I can give you some money to use while you’re here—”

  Christy interrupted her. “No, I cannot accept your charity.”

  “Then think of it as a loan,” Hayley said, reaching for her checkbook that was buried in her bag.

  Christy vigorously shook her head. “Please, I do not want to borrow money I may not be able to pay back.”

  Now was not the time for this poor girl to be proud.

  She needed help.

  “Okay, then how about you get a job?”

  “Yes, that seems to be my only option, but I am going to have to ap
ply and interview, and that will take time.”

  “Well, consider this your interview. Have you waited tables before?”

  “Yes, back home at a café during summers.”

  “Okay, you’re hired.”

  “For what?”

  “Chef Romeo’s, a delightfully cozy new Italian eatery in town that I have been running the past two nights. It’s been nonstop busy and we could use all the help we can get. Fifteen dollars an hour, plus tips. You can start tonight. Interested?”

  Christy’s sad, mournful eyes suddenly sparkled to life, and she threw her arms around Hayley, squeezing her into a warm hug. “Thank you, Hayley. I am indebted to you. I promise not to disappoint you.”

  “You’re the one doing me a favor,” Hayley said.

  Christy released her grip and stepped back from Hayley, near tears that at least one of her problems had just been solved. “Is there anything I need to know before tonight?”

  “Yes, watch my friend Mona, who has been helping out waiting on customers, and just do the opposite.”

  Christy crinkled her nose, confused. “Okay.”

  Chapter 20

  The last thing Hayley had ever expected to see at Chef Romeo’s on a Sunday night was a busier dinner rush than the one they had endured on Saturday night, especially when so many in town needed to be up early for work on Monday morning. But sure enough, as Hayley stared out the window, slack-jawed, there was already an overflow crowd outside milling about the parking lot, waiting for tables to open up.

  Hayley checked her watch. It was already going on eight-thirty. She had spent most of the evening in the kitchen, cooking and plating the food and doing everything she could to alleviate the stress on Kelton, who had to stop chopping and stirring and tasting every few minutes in order to towel off the sweat beading his brow. Once she was confident Kelton had everything under control, she then did her rounds in the dining room, stopping at all the tables to make sure the guests were satisfied with their meals and had plenty of wine in their glasses.

  Hayley watched as Christy glided across the hardwood floor, balancing a tray of five entrées on her shoulder, eyes straight ahead, fully focused. She set it down on a tray stand and with a bright smile on her face, began serving a table of women on a girls’ night out.

  Hayley had been duly impressed with how quickly Christy adapted to the chaotic environment, following all of Mona’s helpful tips, but politely ignoring Mona’s habit of barking at the customers and warning them not to make her job any more difficult than it already was.

  Hayley spotted Lenny setting up a table with clean silverware and napkins, and signaled Liddy at the hostess station to call the next name on the waiting list.

  Hayley started to head back toward the kitchen when a man at a corner table flagged her down. She stopped in her tracks, surprised to see her boss at the Island Times, Sal, splitting a mushroom black olive pizza with his wife Rosana. She hustled over to greet them.

  “Sal, what are you doing here? It’s a work night,” Hayley said, wagging her finger.

  Sal had a reputation for falling asleep in front of the TV usually well before nine o’clock in the evening, swearing it had nothing to do with his nightly shot of whiskey after dinner.

  “I could say the same to you. You told me this little moonlighting gig was not going to interfere with your office manager duties at the paper,” Sal said gruffly.

  Rosana rolled her eyes, annoyed. “Sal, please don’t start. It’s a wonderful thing what Hayley’s doing, taking over for Chef Romeo so his staff can keep working and pay their bills. Don’t listen to him, Hayley.”

  “Now don’t go jumping down my throat, Rosie. I’m just saying I don’t want Hayley overextending herself, you know. I’m worried about her health, that’s all.”

  Hayley suppressed a laugh.

  Health had nothing to do with Sal’s deep concerns. No, he needed someone at the Island Times office eight o’clock sharp every morning in order to make sure the coffeepot was brewing when he rolled in, his typically tired and grumpy self.

  Deep down, Hayley fought the urge to come clean to Sal with how dissatisfied she had become at the Times, answering the phones and dealing with disgruntled subscribers and planning the office parties and feeling like a glorified secretary. How these past three nights at Romeo’s had been a welcome and transformative challenge, and had opened her mind to a plethora of new possibilities. But instead, she chickened out and simply said, “How’s the pizza?”

  “Crust is a bit chewy, I like it a little thinner, but the sauce is pretty tasty,” Sal muttered.

  “Coming from Sal, that’s like a four-star Michelin review!” Rosana chirped. “We had the fried calamari as an appetizer. Three simple words: To die for.”

  Swallowing his pizza, Sal barked, “You got anything good here for dessert? I don’t like anything fancy, just something simple to cleanse the palate!”

  Hayley leaned forward. “I will have Christy bring over some spumoni for you, on the house.”

  Rosana clapped her hands gleefully, then flicked her eyes back toward her husband and sighed. “I don’t know how he does it. He can be a rude discontent, and yet he still manages to score a free dessert!”

  Sal sat up in his chair, disgruntled, and snorted, “People expect me to complain. It’s who I am.”

  “Maybe you should think about rebranding,” Rosana said, grabbing the last slice of pizza off the silver tray that was sitting on top of a metal rack on the table before Sal had the chance to swipe it for himself.

  Sal grimaced. “You usually only have two slices.”

  Rosana took a big bite of the slice and slowly chewed, speaking with her mouth full. “I’m especially hungry tonight.”

  “Maybe you could share—”

  “No, Sal,” Rosana snapped.

  Sensing a marriage spat starting to bubble up, Hayley scurried off to the next table on her path back to the kitchen. She was surprised again to see Andrea Cho and her husband Leonard. Andrea was picking at her mushroom risotto while Leonard sopped up the last of the marinara sauce on his plate with a big hunk of buttery garlic bread.

  “Andrea, Leonard, I didn’t see you on the reservations list for tonight,” Hayley said, smiling.

  Andrea put down her fork. “Liddy managed to slip us in ahead of a few other parties. I promised to use her as our realtor when I sell my family’s waterfront cottage in Castine in the fall.”

  Hayley made a mental note to remind Liddy not to give preferential treatment to customers willing to bribe her with a real estate commission.

  “I hope you enjoyed your dinners,” Hayley said, eyeing Andrea’s half-eaten risotto.

  “Yes, it’s quite delicious,” Andrea assured her. “I’m just eating half-portions to lose a little weight and get healthier. I’ll have the rest for lunch tomorrow.” She then focused her attention on her husband. “Maybe you should do the same, Leonard.”

  Leonard had been ignoring them as he devoured his garlic bread soaked in marinara sauce. “Huh?”

  “Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Andrea snarled. “I was saying, maybe you should cut down on all the salt and carbs, and then we wouldn’t have to rush you to the hospital so much.”

  Leonard chomped on his garlic bread defiantly, in silence, until he finally swallowed, his Adam’s apple jutting out as it went down. He stared daggers at his wife, but then glanced up at Hayley with a friendly smile. “The manicotti was excellent, Hayley. Would you tell our waitress to bring around a dessert menu? I’m in the mood for some tiramisu.”

  “And maybe you could cut down on the sugar too,” Andrea mumbled under her breath.

  Hayley thought she might have to go get a steak knife from the kitchen in order to cut through the tension.

  “I feel fine,” Leonard seethed, reaching into his coat pocket, which was slung over the back of his chair.

  “It looks like you’ve made a remarkable recovery,” Hayley noted encouragingly.

  “Thank
you, Hayley,” Leonard said, pulling out a blood pressure monitor and wrapping the cuff snugly around his arm but not too tight.

  Andrea’s eyes widened, horrified. “Leonard, what are you doing?”

  “Taking a reading,” he said nonchalantly. He opened an app on his phone and pressed a green start button and the arm cuff began inflating. He kept his eyes glued to his phone for the result.

  “Here?” Andrea cried. “You can’t wait until we get home?” She looked around, embarrassed, but nobody seemed to be watching, except for one tiny six-year-old girl at a nearby table, who had probably never before seen anyone take their blood pressure and was curious to know what exactly Leonard was doing.

  “I like to take it at the same time every night. You were the one who insisted we get out of the house,” Leonard argued. He frowned as the arm cuff deflated and the digital numbers appeared on his phone. “It’s pink. That’s not good. Green means you’re good to go, yellow is a warning that it’s elevated above normal, and red is basically get yourself to a hospital stat. So pink is obviously not good.”

  “Nobody asked for this tutorial, Leonard! Can’t you see that Hayley is busy?” Andrea said.

  “Oh, dear, my heart rate is close to a hundred,” Leonard fretted before looking pointedly at his wife. “I can’t possibly imagine what could be stressing me out so much all the time.”

  Andrea chose to ignore him.

  Christy suddenly appeared at the table and reached out for Leonard’s empty plate. “All finished?”

  “Yes, thank you, it was delicious,” Leonard said, his mood brightening at the pretty server’s presence.

  Andrea chose to ignore that too. “Would you wrap up the rest of mine to go?”

  “Certainly,” Christy said, stacking the plate of risotto on top of Leonard’s empty one.

  “You must be new in town,” Leonard said, eyes twinkling. “I haven’t seen you before. I surely would have remembered spotting such a pretty girl around.”