Turn Up the Heat (22 page)

“
Sí
, Chef!” Santos called back.

Josh obviously wasn’t taking my theories seriously. “Okay, smarty,” I said, “who do you think killed Leandra?”

Josh shut the office door and leaned against it. “Here’s what I think. Like I was saying, in restaurants no one rats on anyone else because no one can afford to. Except for Wade. He’ll throw anyone under the bus if it makes him look good.”

“Right, like you guys were telling me the other night at your place.”

He nodded. “The night Leandra was killed, Wade and Kevin were closing. Supposedly, they gave each other an alibi, but that means nothing, because Wade is a lowlife. You have no idea how much crap he’s said about me and then turned around and told me how much he admires me. Horseshit like that all the time from him. And the truth is, he’s a lousy GM at that. Anyhow, Wade is the one with the faulty personality, not Owen or Gavin. If you’re looking for a suspect, I’d put my money on him. Look, Chloe, I have to get back to work. Snacker just got here, so I’m going to be really busy.”

“All right. I’m going to hang out and wait for Owen, if that’s okay with you.” I wasn’t looking forward to my conversation with him, but it needed to happen.

“Stay as long as you like. You can come watch me prep if you want.”

Josh and I left the office, and I sat on a stool a few feet from where Josh began seasoning some rib eye steaks. I loved watching him work, but I was always worried that I’d cause a kitchen calamity by hanging out in the wrong spot, so I sat frozen to my seat.

Kevin entered the kitchen and spotted Josh. “Hey, dude. Any chance I could get three desserts on the house?”

“Depends. Who are they for?” Josh flipped over the steaks and continued generously sprinkling salt, pepper, and sugar across the meat.

At that moment, Blythe entered the kitchen and said exactly what I was thinking. “They must be for Naomi, Eliot, and Penelope, right?”

So, Kevin was trying to impress Penelope with Josh’s dessert. Cute! The strategy always worked for me!

“Yes, actually, they are,” Kevin said shyly.

“Sure, no problem. Let me see what I have that’s ready to go.” Josh washed his hands and then went into the walk-in refrigerator, where prepped desserts were kept.

Snacker materialized from behind a counter. “Miss Penelope is out there, huh? Nice going, Kev!”

“Kevin’s got a girlfriend,” sang Blythe.

Josh came out of the walk-in with three ceramic ramekins that held raspberry crème brûlée. He set them down near Kevin. “Here you go. Can you just finish them off for me? Sprinkle them with sugar and throw them under the broiler for a minute or two.” Josh handed over three ramekins. “And there’s some more fresh raspberries around here somewhere, too, for garnish.”

While Kevin sprinkled sugar, Blythe leaned over to me and whispered in my ear. “You probably don’t know this, but Kevin has it bad for that Penelope girl!” She giggled. “He’s been making eyes at her for weeks now, and I don’t think she’s interested in the least. It’s pathetic, really. He keeps asking me if I’ve seen her outside, and he made all of us say that we’d go find him the minute she comes in. Maybe if he got rid of those stupid sideburns!”

I giggled and then noticed Kevin looking over at us. “Mmm,” I muttered vaguely, trying to cover up my smile. Seriously, though, Kevin did need to get rid of those things. At a guess, he’d grown the sideburns in an effort to make himself look young and trendy, but their effect was exactly the opposite.

Blythe must have seen Kevin watching us, too, because she said jokingly, “Yes, we’re talking about you, Kevin! And Chloe’s going to go tell your new girlfriend everything I’m saying!”

Kevin took the raspberry desserts to the broiler and ignored Blythe’s teasing.

The kitchen phone rang. Josh picked it up. “No. Not yet…I have no idea…Okay. Bye.” Josh turned to me. “That was Adrianna calling to see if Owen is here. Where the hell is he, anyway? We’re supposed to get our fish in the morning, not just before dinner!” Josh put his hands on his hips. “God, I barely got through lunch with what we have. Owen better get his ass here fast, or I’m gonna drop him!” Josh continued his prep work.

“Dammit!” Kevin yelled as he pulled out three burned brûlées from the broiler.

“I got you!” Josh said, retrieving more raspberry delights for the nervous bartender. “Keep an eye on those. They’ll burn in a second.”

“Thanks, man.” Kevin took a breath and started cleaning up the mess.

Owen stomped into the kitchen in his heavy work boots, a white box in his hands. “I know! I know! I’m sorry!” he hollered out to the entire room. “I’m totally behind schedule today, and I forgot your razor clams at the warehouse, so I had to go back to the waterfront, and there was an accident right at the turnoff to—”

Josh held up his hand to stop Owen. “Just give me my clams, you loser,” he said, grinning at the frazzled Owen.

Owen smiled back at him. “Let me grab the rest of your stuff from the truck.”

“Hey, Chloe.” Blythe nudged me and started whispering again. “You know how I told you that my friend Katie picked Kevin up at a bar? Well, you won’t believe what else she told me!” Blythe raised her eyebrows and bit her lip. “Kevin doesn’t know that I know that they slept together, and it’s a good thing, too, because then he’d
really
be afraid of me making fun of him.”

Oh, this sounded good. “What?” I asked, always eager for a little gossip.

She softly cleared her throat. Speaking so softly that I had to strain to hear her, she said, “Apparently…How do I say this? Kevin’s, you know,
thing
,” she said with a knowing look, “is very…um, weird.”

I choked back a laugh. “What? What do you mean?”

Blythe spoke out of the corner of her mouth, as if twisting her lips would somehow lighten what she was trying to say. “Katie said his penis is bent. Like, not just a little, but, you know…” Blythe held up one hand in the shape of the letter
C
and put her other hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.

“What are you talking about?”

“Like, seriously bent. Curved. Whatever it is, it’s not, well…straight!”

“Oh, my God, Blythe, I
so
didn’t need to know that!”

“You think
I
want to know that? I had to tell someone, though!”

I turned so that my back was to Kevin. There was no way I could watch him hover over the crème brûlées right after hearing this weirdly intimate detail. “I’m definitely not repeating that! But if Kevin winds up with that Penelope girl, I guess she’ll find out for herself.”

“Yeah, but by then it’ll be too late. Who knows?” Blythe continued whispering. “Maybe Penelope the Beautiful won’t care. Anyhow, Kevin gets crazy whenever he talks about her, so that’s why we all tease him. It’s like being in junior high around here. We love each other, but we have to give each other hell.”

“No kidding. I don’t want to know what you guys say about Josh and me!”

“Oh, nothing bad,” she said at normal volume. “Don’t worry. Anyhow, I have to get back to work. Kevin, you want me to help you carry those out?” Blythe made kissy faces at Kevin as they left the kitchen to deliver the desserts to Penelope, Eliot, and Naomi.

“I haven’t seen you in ages, Chloe.” Owen walked toward me.

Everything about Owen was familiar and comforting. Instead of feeling enraged at him for his stupid lies, I felt happy to see him. There was simply nothing threatening about Owen. My DSM theory was falling apart. Owen was empathic and kind. He was a great friend. No one in Boston obeyed traffic rules; Owen’s driving was no more deviant than anyone else’s. Yes, he was unconventional but unconventional in a healthy, interesting, lovable way.

“I know,” I said. “Not since we found Leandra. How are you doing? I’ve missed you.” I gave Owen a hug and ignored the fish smells coming from him.

“Good. Well, okay. I guess Ade must’ve told you the police are still asking me questions. I don’t even have my truck back yet, so I’m using another company one right now. I’ve got to get going, though. My truck is still running outside, and I’ve got a few more deliveries to make.” Owen brushed his black hair off his face to reveal his bright blue eyes. They were not the eyes of a killer! Even though I knew Owen,
really
knew him, I’d still let that silly DSM book brainwash me. Yes, Owen was a dunce but not a killer.

Adrianna burst into Simmer’s kitchen looking madder than I’d ever seen her before. She charged over to Owen. “Anything you want to tell me, Owen?”

“Adrianna? What are you doing here?” he asked his furious fiancée.

“I just got a phone call from the bank about truck payments! You lied to me, to the police, to everyone else about that goddamn truck! Are your stupid fish more important than I am?”

Owen blanched. “I’m sorry, Ade. Listen, I’ll explain everything later, but I really have to get out of here.”

I backed up out of the kitchen and into the dining room. I felt relieved that I wouldn’t have to break the bad news to Adrianna, but I was still in danger of getting sucked into her fight with Owen. Consequently, I had no desire to stick around. Just as I backed into the main dining area, I almost bumped into Kevin. He had a bar towel over his arm, but he didn’t appear to be doing any work. Rather, he’d apparently been listening in on the beginning of Adrianna and Owen’s fight. I couldn’t blame him for his prurient curiosity. If they hadn’t been my friends, I’d have been dying to hear what was going on, too.

“Kevin.” I took a step back. “Did they like the desserts?”

“I think so. But, Chloe, listen. I need to talk to you about Josh and Simmer. It’s something big. Can we find somewhere private?” Kevin suddenly looked deeply worried. My bet was that he wanted to tell me about Wade and his obnoxious habit of bad-mouthing Josh to Gavin. I hoped that the two-faced GM hadn’t done anything to get Josh in real trouble.

“Yeah, sure. Where do you want to go?”

Blythe was out on the patio with Naomi, Eliot, and Kevin’s inamorata, Penelope; other servers were arriving for their shifts; and Wade was probably around somewhere. I could hear Adrianna’s voice as she continued to chew out Owen, who was going to be stuck in the kitchen for a while. That was for sure!

“Um…” Kevin looked around the room. “Why don’t we go talk in the back hallway? Or outside?”

I began to feel increasingly alarmed that Kevin was about to deliver terrible news. I followed him down the hallway. When we reached the end, he held the back door open for me. Owen’s truck was still out there in the alley, its engine running, its rear door open. If Owen had known that Ade was going to interrupt his deliveries, he’d certainly have lowered and locked that sliding door. He might even have turned off the engine. I remember that as Kevin and I walked down the back steps, I was trying to see into the back of Owen’s truck and wondering whether any seafood that might be in there would spoil if the engine were off. Then it occurred to me that if Kevin was on the verge of making a horrible revelation, I should probably sit down. It was just as I was about to take a seat on the grimy back steps and tell Kevin to break the news that he wrapped his massive arms around me and engulfed me in what I at first mistook for a bear hug. Why was Kevin embracing me? The delusion lasted for no more than a second. The pressure of his muscular hands on my upper arms was ferocious. Lifting me almost off my feet, he began dragging me toward the open rear of Owen’s truck.

Terror and confusion shot through me. “Kevin! What are you doing?” Of all the foolish questions! Why didn’t I scream? I probably couldn’t have. As it was, my voice cracked, and I was breathing rapidly. His arms gripped mine so tightly that I couldn’t break free, and my toes barely touched the ground as he hauled me across the pavement.

“Just shut up!” Kevin snarled. With no apparent effort, he lifted me up and threw me into the truck. I landed hard. The only thing that broke my fall was a plastic tub filled with ice and bags of clams. With the wind knocked out of me, I was helpless. I lay there in a near stupor as Kevin pulled down the sliding door. The inside of the truck was now completely dark. I heard the sound of a lock. Within seconds, the truck was moving. I had, of course, been caught completely off guard. I’d been expecting to hear that Gavin was firing Josh, maybe, or that Simmer was closing. I’d been entirely unprepared for this…What the hell was it? A kidnaping? An assault? Finding words for what was happening, I found my voice and started screaming.

Kevin maneuvered the truck around a corner, and Owen’s heavy metal dolly slid into me so painfully that in my mind’s eye, I could see the bruise that would appear on my leg. I tried to stand up, but my timing was bad: my mad chauffeur slammed on the brakes, and I was immediately thrown against the front wall. I crawled to the back door and started pounding my fists against the metal so fiercely that my hands hurt. I switched to kicking the door over and over with my feet. “Help me! Help! Get me out!”

I started crying in panicked gasps as a terrifying thought raced through my head. Somewhere on the Web or maybe in a magazine, I’d read advice about what to do if you ever become the victim of an attack. A major point was to do everything possible to avoid being taken to a second location. If you are being moved to a second location, you are being moved there to be killed.

I was heading to that second location.

EIGHTEEN

IT
was Kevin who had killed Leandra. That was the only conclusion to draw from this attack. But never mind what he had done in the past! Where was Kevin taking me now? And how could I have let this happen? I was disgusted with myself for not having screamed loudly enough when the truck was still in the alley behind Simmer. I should have tried to fight Kevin off before he locked me in this truck. Well, it wasn’t too late to estimate where the truck was now and to figure out where it might be heading. We’d taken a few turns since Kevin had driven us out of Simmer’s alley. After that, there had been a few short spurts of movement followed by stops, presumably at traffic lights. I’d continued to hammer at the door with my sore fists and feet, and I’d shouted for help, but the truck kept moving. Now we were beginning to pick up speed; there were no more stops. I felt sure that we were on the Mass Pike.