One Potato, Two Potato, Dead

by Lynn Cahoon

  Matt chuckled. “Don’t leave us, Angie. Estebe’s mean when you’re not in the kitchen.”

  Estebe gave him a flat stare. “I haven’t been mean yet, but I can change that.”

  “Okay, guys, stop the bantering. I’m not leaving right now. But it’s nice to know I can.” She patted Matt on the shoulder. “And I’m sure you’ll survive.”

  He grinned back at her. “Just seeing if you’re listening.”

  As they walked back to the table in the middle, Estebe handed her a bottle of water and pointed to a chair. “Tell me what you need.”

  Angie sat and drank down half the bottle before she spoke. She needed to stay hydrated for service, a habit she harped on for all her chefs. And apparently, one that Estebe believed in too. “I need you to work Tuesday.”

  He raised his eyebrows, pulled out his phone, and after a few keystrokes glanced back at her. “What time do I need to be here?”

  “Just like that? You can work?” Angie had expected a maybe or a full-out denial. Estebe volunteered with his Basque community kitchen on days he wasn’t here at the County Seat. “I would have thought you’d have plans.”

  “I do, but I can change them. What’s going on? And when do you need me?”

  Amazed at the dedication, she told him about Felicia’s yoga group class. “I thought we’d do a series of soups for them. Maybe some quick breads to go with the soups? We’d have to have batches made up in advance, but what we cooked in the class we could package and send home with the group.”

  Estebe nodded. “Good plan. I can be here first thing in the morning. Maybe we need one more chef? I’d ask Hope, but she’s in class on Tuesday.”

  “Yeah.” Angie turned and looked at Matt, who was watching them. “Hey, Matt, can you work on Tuesday too?”

  “Of course. I live for your commands.” He grinned, but when Angie didn’t say anything, he nodded. “Seriously. I don’t have anything going on Tuesday. I can come in. Besides, I’d love the hours. I’m looking at upgrading my apartment to a real house, but I have to convince the bankers I’m a good credit risk.”

  “Where are you looking to buy?” Estebe turned toward Matt. “I’ve got a few properties I would be willing to carry paper on.”

  Matt’s eyes widened. “That would be awesome. I’d like to be closer to River Vista. Right now, my apartment is a few blocks from the shelter, and well, it’s not in the best neighborhood.”

  “We’ll meet up tomorrow morning before work and I’ll show you what I have.” Estebe turned back to Angie. “Is that all? I need to get the sauces completed.”

  “You own property?” Angie stared at him.

  “Just a few. I’ve been putting money away since my first job, and a few of my investments have been fruitful.” He shrugged, uncomfortable about talking about money. “We should do a family bread recipe. The sheepherders used to make it when they were out with the flock.”

  “Sounds good. Let’s meet tomorrow for a few minutes and get a menu planned for this. I’ll have Felicia make us recipe handouts for them to take home.” Angie put her hand on Estebe’s as he tried to stand. “Thank you for always being here for me.”

  “You are easy to please, Angie Turner.” He gazed into her eyes. “It is my pleasure to work for you and call you my friend.”

  He stood and went back to the line. Angie had to sit for a minute, blinking away the tears that formed behind her eyes. With all that had been going on lately, she needed that touch of comfort. Estebe was a rock in her kitchen. One that made her steady in her business and her life.

  She wiped her eyes and then went to find where she could help her team. Her team. She smiled as she thought of her group. Then she dove into her first love: cooking.

  Friday night service went smoothly, and before she knew it, she was home with Dom cuddled on the couch. She’d run out to the barn, given Precious a bit of food, and checked on their water. Mabel had opened one eye when Angie came into the barn and then closed it again, returning to sleep on her roost. Everything was good in her zoo’s world, so after giving the goat a few minutes of attention, including rubbing behind her ears and listening to the goat bleat out all the things that had happened that day, Angie returned to the house. She’d brought dinner home with her, so she unpacked the chicken and potato hash and put it in the microwave to heat up.

  Dom glanced at his food dish, which still held over a cup of his food and then sniffed the air, capturing the smells of the warming food.

  “Don’t even think about it. This is my dinner.” As she moved around the kitchen, she heard the ding of her phone announcing an incoming text.

  She picked up her phone and read the message from Ian aloud. “Thinking about you. I’ll be home soon, I promise. Tell Dom to watch over you while I’m gone.”

  Dom wagged his tail on the floor when he heard the name.

  “Sorry, buddy, your friend isn’t coming over tonight.” She reread the text and then sent one of her own. She read it before she hit Send, hoping it didn’t sound too needy. “Miss you.”

  She waited for the delivered message, then set the phone down on the table. Time for dinner while she watched one of her murder mystery shows she had on the DVR, and then upstairs to bed. Tomorrow would be busy, with a full dining room as soon as the County Seat opened as well as planning for the class on Tuesday.

  Thinking about the class, she smiled. Felicia had gotten in too deep with this group. She always had groups of people she gravitated to that occupied her time away from the restaurant. Of course, that was before she had a boyfriend. Taylor seemed the type to keep Felicia busy all on his own. Life was changing for both of them. She just hoped that as much as their lives changed, they would always have time for their friendship.

  As she finished dinner, she texted Felicia a short note seeing if they could get together for Sunday brunch. With Ian out of town, it was the perfect time for a girls’ day. Maybe they’d even do some shopping or a spa day. Whatever they planned, Angie knew the two would have fun.

  She didn’t have long to wait for an answer. Can’t do brunch. Meeting Taylor at noon. What about dinner and a movie? There has to be a rom com playing somewhere, right?

  A smile creeped onto Angie’s face as she texted back her answer. They’d finalize the plans tomorrow at work. At least Felicia was still there for her.

  She cleaned up the kitchen, loaded her dishes into the dishwasher, and headed upstairs. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. She would need a girls’ night after finishing this week’s work schedule.

  * * * *

  Saturday morning the house was freezing cold when she got out of bed. The temperature outside had dropped and either she’d forgotten to set the furnace or, worse, the thing had decided to give out. Hurrying downstairs, she peered at the thermostat, which read a frigid fifty-eight degrees. “What the heck?”

  She looked at the other switches and remembered she’d turned off the heat a week ago when they’d been having seventy-degree weather. Flicking the switch, her breath caught as she waited for the old heater to kick on. When it did and heat started flowing through the vents, she relaxed. She did not need the expense of replacing her furnace system right now.

  Going into the kitchen, she started a pot of coffee and glanced out toward the barn. Mabel was already out in the yard, looking for her morning snacks. Angie scanned the pasture and found the black goat jumping to her own tune in the low grass. She’d bought the goat a few bales of alfalfa to get her through the next month or so, but she’d probably have to have more delivered as the pasture went dormant for winter.

  She slipped on her farm boots and a coat over her pajamas and headed out to feed the troops while her coffee brewed. Then when she got back, she’d work on Nona’s cookbook for a few hours until she got hungry. Then it was breakfast and another round of checking on the animals before she left for the restaurant. If Erica was
home, she’d ask her to come over and feed, but since they were still out on holiday, Angie was on her own.

  Chores finished, she glanced over to her neighbor’s house that sat dark in the morning light. It felt like even the house missed its occupants. She’d give Mrs. Potter a call on Sunday to see how her vacation was going.

  Two hours later, she looked up from her laptop and realized if she didn’t get in the shower, she was going to be late for her planning meeting with Felicia. As usual, when she started working with Nona’s recipes, she’d gotten lost in the past. Food did that. Brought back memories of the first spring peas that Nona would pair with tiny red potatoes from the garden. Or the strawberry rhubarb pie she always made in early June. No wonder Angie had gone into cooking as a career. She’d been raised with food both from her parents, and after they were gone, from her Nona. Food that came from the ground or the barn instead of from a box.

  She thought about that as she got ready for her day and more as she was driving into town. Part of the cookbook was little essays about each of the recipes. Memories and stories that Nona told while she was cooking. Memories of Angie’s mom as she cooked dinner while Angie did her homework at the kitchen table.

  Kitchens had always been a big part of her life. And she was blessed that she could continue the tradition if not with a family of her own, then with her work family. She pulled into the parking lot and saw Barb from the Red Eye smoking a cigarette at the edge of the building, waiting for her.

  “Hi, Barb, how are you?” She moved toward the woman, trying to stay upwind from the cigarette smoke.

  “If I was any better I’d be shitting gold bricks,” Barb croaked, then laughed at her own joke.

  “That’s,” Angie paused, thinking of an appropriate response, “nice. How’s business been?”

  “People are still getting drunk and spending their money at my place, so I guess I can’t complain.” She put out a cigarette and immediately lit a new one. “Look, I heard about your girl and that professor dude. I hope she’s going to be all right. I mean, what was he thinking, trying to get in her pants and all.”

  “I’m not sure.” Angie stopped, realizing that Barb might have more information than she did. The bar got all kinds of people in there, and Barb heard a lot of stories way before anyone else. “What have you heard?”

  A sly look came over Barb’s face. “Maybe nothing, maybe something. What’s it worth to you?”

  She was trying to bribe her? Angie couldn’t believe it. How badly did she want to help Hope? That one question answered everything else for her. “What do you want?”

  “Some more of those donuts.” Barb cackled. “You should see your face. You wouldn’t have been surprised if I’d asked for money or your firstborn. But donuts? You never thought it would be that.”

  Angie laughed, the fear easing out of her body. “You’re right. I’m sorry, I’ve been a little tense lately, what with this thing with Hope.”

  “Having your English boy toy out of town probably doesn’t help much either.” Barb shrugged. “I’ve been keeping an eye out for you, but so far, no movement up at that apartment of his.”

  Angie’s gaze flicked up to Ian’s window that overlooked her parking lot. Then she hated herself for giving in to the urge. “He texted me last night. I’m sure he’ll be home soon.”

  Barb took a long drag off her cigarette, then put it out and lit up another one. Angie thought the woman must be single-handedly keeping the tobacco industry in business. “Look, I don’t think he’s messing around on you. But you don’t want to talk about Ian. I need to get back to work anyway.”

  “What did you hear about Hope?” Angie quickly asked before the woman left.

  Barb paused mid-step. “Oh, yeah, I forgot. That’s why I came over to talk to you. See, there was this group of kids from the college over last night at the bar. They’d been drinking before they got there, but they weren’t causing problems, so I let them stay.”

  Angie leaned against the wall of the building. Barb’s stories were never short.

  “Anyway, one of the girls is crying. I go clean off a table and I hear her say how she might as well have killed him. She told her friend she was so jealous and she’d seen him with other students.”

  Angie took a breath. “She was talking about Daniel Monet.”

  Barb nodded. “She said his name a few times. And then I heard her mention your dishwasher, Hope. I know that kid is a good girl. She’s brought me home-baked treats most Saturdays she works. She’s worried I’m too skinny.”

  A smile curved Angie’s lips. That was so like Hope.

  “Anyway, the girl said she saw them together Tuesday night and she went crazy.” Barb shrugged. “Then a fight broke out over by the bar and I had to go kick some cowboy out of there. When I looked back, the group was gone.”

  “Do you know who was talking about Daniel and Hope? Did you get her name?”

  Barb shook her head. “Her friend kept calling her Meg, but that’s all I got. Dark curly hair, probably five five, skinny, and she carried a Vera Bradley purse or a really good knockoff. An expensive purse. I know, I’ve been trying to convince myself I deserve one.”

  Angie watched as the woman made her way back to her back door and slowly climbed the stairs. The years hadn’t been kind to Barb, but she had a good heart. Angie figured donut making was first on her agenda Monday morning.

  Right now, she had to get inside and write down what Barb had told her in her investigating notebook. She’d have a lot to dump on Sheriff Brown if he ever returned her calls. Angie wondered if ambushing him on the way into church was really the right thing to do. But then she thought about that guard dog officer he had in front of his office and decided she’d rather deal with the church ladies than that guy again.

  She found Felicia already in her office, a notebook open and two cups of coffee on the desk. “Good morning. How did you know I’d be here before the coffee got cold?”

  “I saw you drive in.” She smiled. “What did our favorite local bartender want to talk about?”

  Angie tucked her tote bag under her desk and sipping her coffee, told her what Barb had said. “This story matches what I overheard the teachers talking about at the college. Daniel was swimming in the college dating pool.”

  “That’s just gross.” Felicia flipped her hair back. “I told you about that professor who told me I could get an A in his class if I would stop by his office later.”

  “I don’t think so. I bet that went over well.” Angie knew she didn’t put up with crap from anyone.

  Felicia shrugged. “I told him that my father was a Boise cop and did I want him to come along to find out how exactly I was going to earn that A?”

  “Your father is a pharmacist in Washington.”

  A smile came over her face. “Yeah, but the creeper didn’t know that. And I got my A based on my work in class, not in his office.”

  “Professors like that should be banned from teaching.” Angie set her cup down and booted up her computer.

  “What are you doing? I thought we were going to plan the cooking class. We really need a better name than that. More punchy.”

  “I’m checking to see if there’s a list of people who lost their teaching license in Canada. Maybe that’s why Daniel came to Idaho as a visiting professor. He lost his teaching spot at the last college.” Angie did a generic search, but all she came up with was newspaper articles about professors being charged. “There are over a hundred entries. Some of these are duplicates, but wow, that’s a lot.”

  “And that’s just the ones that made the news.” Felicia shook her head. “Look, I know you’re worried about Hope, but right now, she’s okay and her lawyer thinks they’ll leave her alone. We really need to work on this menu plan.”

  Angie turned off the computer. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just keep thinking that there’s m
ore to the story than just a jealous student.”

  “There probably is, but it’s not your job to find out who killed Daniel. Besides, the last time you went snooping, it didn’t turn out so well,” Felicia reminded her.

  Angie grinned. “I’m alive. Nona always said the angels take care of the brave and the stupid. Not sure which category I fall into, but I think I’m covered.”

  Chapter 8

  Two hours later, they had a menu completed for the first County Seat Academy class— Soups to Fall in Love With. Angie was keeping all the menus in a separate file so they could repeat the class next year. “You know, we could put this out as a cookbook after a year. Make sure you get evaluations from the attendees so we can snip some quotes for marketing and the book.”

  “You’re always thinking ahead.” Felicia wrote something in her notebook. “If this goes as well as I’m thinking it might, we should think about hiring someone to do the administration part of the classes.”

  “I have a better idea.” Angie tapped her pen on the desk. “What if we bring Nancy on full-time as soon as she can swing it? We’ll be paying her a lot for admin work, but she’ll be a great resource and we can give her some of these marketing assignments that neither one of us has time for.”

  Felicia brightened. “That is an awesome idea. I wasn’t sure where I was going to find the time to be the headmaster for the academy and run front of the house.”

  “I’ll pull her aside and talk to her when she gets here. If she’s not interested, we can give the extra hours we’ve been giving to Matt to her and put him in charge of the school. Estebe’s already at full-time, at least the weeks we have classes.” Angie glanced at the computer. “We might be pushing our budget, but we should have a full-time kitchen staff, not including Hope, by the end of the month.”

  “Which is six months sooner than we planned.” Felicia grinned. “Go ahead and staff. We’ll wait a month and then I’ll see what I can do with the servers. I’d like to up their hours too, but that means being open more days.”