A Roux of Revenge (4 page)

“No idea who he is?” Jack asked. He had grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and poured them into chilled glasses for Nate and himself. The Spoonful never served alcohol, but Jack
enjoyed the occasional beer and kept a few at the restaurant.

“There’s a name and address on a Maine driver’s license. I have a call in to the local PD there to go out to talk to someone—try to find a next of kin. I’m a little suspicious about the license though. The van is registered in Quebec to somebody else. I should be getting something from the authorities there too.”

“What’s suspicious
about the license?” Jack asked.

“Well, I could be wrong, but it just seems a little off.” Nate continued, “He looks too young for his age, at least the age on the license.”

“Usually it’s the other way around,” Lucky said. “People hang on to old licenses until they have to show up to have another picture taken. You’d think he’d look older than his photo.”

“You would, wouldn’t you?”
Nate replied.

“Did you call Elias out to the scene?” she asked.

“Oh sure. Too bad he had to start his day that way, but I was glad of the company. And glad to get a ride back to town.”

Lucky thought perhaps that’s what had been troubling Elias earlier. He may not have wanted to mention the dead man in front of the sisters.

“They’ll take his prints over at Lincoln Falls just to
be doubly sure.” Nate wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’ll check again in the morning to see if anyone’s been reported as missing, but it might be too soon for that. There are a lot of strangers in town right now with the Harvest Festival . . . and my guy could be one of them.”

Jack snorted. “Don’t even mention that thing. We’ve had Ernie White driving us nuts about setting up a food booth
over there. I told him he could take a hike. If anybody wants our food, nothing’s stopping them from coming into town and ordering it right here.”

“Ernie always gets Jack’s back up,” Lucky volunteered. “Jack’s right, though. He’s definitely been putting pressure on us to set something up at the festival, but we don’t have that kind of staff. We’ve done things in the past to help the town out,
but this is different. Besides, most of the festival folks are coming here anyway. So I’m certainly not going to close the restaurant just to sell a few sandwiches.” Lucky took a sip of her tea. “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s a great thing he’s doing. Some small local farmers get to sell their harvest. The kids have rides and a corn maze with scarecrows. I heard they’ve even booked a Gaelic
band from Nova Scotia. It sounds like fun for everyone.”

“Speaking of which, that’s where I’ll be next, asking questions out there. There are a few strangers working those pony rides and stuff. I just hope somebody can identify this guy.”

Lucky heard a rap on the glass of the front door. Sophie Colgan stood outside. She wiggled her fingers in greeting as Lucky rose to let her in.

Sophie reached out and gave her a quick hug. “Just here to meet my honey. Is he in the kitchen?”

Lucky laughed. “Where else?” She and Sophie had been childhood friends until Lucky left town to attend college in Madison. A rift had formed between them, mostly caused by Sophie’s resentment. Events over the past months had healed the wound, and now their friendship was renewed, stronger than ever.

“Go right in. You know where you’ll find him,” Lucky answered.

“We have to get together this week—with you and Elias. You have a night that’s good?”

“Sure. Any night. No special plans this week. Just give me a call or stop by.”

“Great.” Sophie beamed.

Lucky sensed there was something on the tip of Sophie’s tongue. “What’s going on?” She looked at her friend quizzically.

“Oh, nothing,” Sophie replied breezily. “We’ll catch up later.”

Lucky followed Sophie’s progress to the kitchen. Something was happening. Sophie was usually upbeat, but now it seemed as if she were barely holding back a happy secret.

A few minutes later, Sage called through the hatch. “Hey, Lucky. I’m taking off.”

“Night, Sage. See you tomorrow.”

“Need any help with anything?”

“No. We’re fine. You two go on,” Lucky called back. She heard the back door slam as Sage and Sophie left together.

Nate rose from his chair. “I should get going too. Susanna’s gonna wonder what happened to me. Thanks for the sandwich, folks. What do I owe you?”

“Put your money away,” Jack replied. “You’re not allowed to pay after two bells. You know that.” Jack, a Navy veteran, always
told time by the bells. Other than Lucky, no one else could ever translate Jack’s references. She knew two bells at this time of night meant it was after nine o’clock.

Nate smiled. “You’re a stubborn old cuss, Jack, you know that?”

“Who you callin’ old?” Jack grumbled.

Chapter 6

T
HE FOLLOWING MORNING
the Spoonful was packed with customers. One of Jack’s CDs was playing—this time an upbeat big band sound. Lucky hadn’t seen Hank or Barry yet, which was surprising. They
were usually the earliest arrivals. She knew most of the residents in town, if not personally, then at least by sight. Snowflake’s population was 950 at last count—since one of Elias’s patients had given birth. But today it was obvious Nate was correct. There were a lot of strangers in town. She spotted Ernie White, the organizer of the Harvest Festival, at a table with two men who seemed to defer
to him. Undoubtedly they were in his employ.

She looked up as Horace Winthorpe came through the front door and waved to her. Horace had become one of the Spoonful’s regulars as well. And he was not just a favorite customer; Horace had become a friend. He was a retired professor of history, working on a book about the Revolutionary War. Fortunately for Lucky, Horace had agreed to rent her parents’
home on a long-term basis. Horace looked toward the corner table where Hank and Barry usually sat. It was still empty. He approached the counter.

“Good morning, Lucky. Hank and Barry aren’t here yet?” he asked.

“No.” She shook her head. “Not yet. But I’m sure they’ll be in soon.”

“Well, I’ll just sit here so I can visit with you,” he said, sliding onto a stool left by a departing customer.

“What would you like?”

“It’s a little early, but I’d like to try that new Persian pumpkin rice. That sounds intriguing. Do you know what spices Sage uses?”

“He told me—not sure if I can remember them all—cardamom, cinnamon, coriander, turmeric, nutmeg and don’t quote me, but I heard him say something about rose petals.”

“A large bowl, please. That sounds enticing.”

Sage knew
the pumpkin soup would be a big hit this week. He had prepared three mini sample cups, now sitting on the hatch in case anyone wanted an early taste.

Lucky turned and grabbed one of the small cups. “One large bowl coming right up. But have one of these first, if you like. You haven’t forgotten Jack’s pumpkin-carving contest, have you?”

“Not at all. I plan to bring my entry over.”

“Don’t forget to deliver it secretly. You can bring it to the back door, and I’ll assign a number.”

Sage was tapping at the bell on the hatch behind her. She turned and saw him point to the corridor outside the kitchen. That meant someone had come in through the back door. She nodded to Sage and slipped through the swinging door into the corridor. Hank and Barry were standing outside the door
to her office with their jack-o’-lanterns in their arms.

“Hey, Lucky,” Barry called. “We didn’t want to come in the front door with these. I’m sure I’ll win, but I do want the vote to be impartial.”

Hank sniffed loudly.

Lucky stood back to admire their handiwork. “Those are great! Thank you.” She led them into the small office and took the carved pumpkins from their arms. “Barry, you’ll
be number four, Hank, number five.” She quickly jotted the numbers on two small pieces of card stock with a marker. “I’ll bring them out in a minute. You can go right through to the restaurant.”

The men nodded and walked down the corridor to the front room. Lucky waited a few minutes more and then carried the two jack-o’-lanterns out to the restaurant and put them on the long table. She placed
the cards into holders in front of each pumpkin. When she returned to the counter, Horace was gone. Meg had delivered his order and he had carried his soup to the corner table to sit with Hank and Barry.

• • •

J
ANIE AND
M
EG
bustled between tables, taking orders while Lucky manned the counter and Jack perched on his stool behind the cash register. Meg deftly grabbed dishes from the kitchen
hatch and matched them with the order slips. The two girls didn’t miss a beat. Janie seemed to fly between tables, while Meg moved slowly, double-checking her orders, but efficient nonetheless. In another quarter of an hour most of these people would be on their way, and the staff could all take a breather.

Lucky peered through the hatch into the kitchen where Sage was lining up plates and
rapidly buttering slices of toast. “You need any help in there?” she called to him.

He looked up and smiled. “Nah. I’m fine. Sophie’s stopping by again today, and she’ll give me a hand.”

Lucky was relieved to hear they’d have a little extra help this morning. She hadn’t expected such a crowd, but she wasn’t complaining. Less than a year ago the Spoonful had been facing bankruptcy when
a body had been found behind the restaurant and Sage himself had been arrested for the crime.

During the winter months Sophie worked as a ski instructor at the Snowflake Resort at the top of the mountain. Her off season schedule was light. But Lucky knew that in a month or so, Sophie would be far too busy to stop in at the Spoonful and lend a hand.

Lucky jumped involuntarily when plates
crashed to the floor. She scanned the room. Janie stood at a table by the front window. Her face was bright red. She apologized to her customers and rushed toward the kitchen to replace the order. Lucky could tell she was horribly embarrassed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as she passed by the counter. “It just slipped out of my hand.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Lucky replied. “I’ll clean up.”
She glanced over the counter. Everyone was set for a minute or two. She followed Janie into the kitchen and grabbed a dustpan and broom and a wet cloth. She hurried back to the table, apologized to the couple who sat by the window and quickly cleaned up the spilled food and broken china. As she carried the debris to the dustbin in the kitchen, she passed Janie, rushing her order back. Janie’s face
was blotchy and red. She looked on the verge of tears.

Lucky returned to the counter and refilled several cups of coffee. She cleared away dishes from patrons who were preparing to leave. She wondered again if most of these people were working at the Harvest Festival in some capacity. They all seemed to be on the same schedule. Once the rush died down and only a few stragglers remained, Lucky
peeked through the hatch and spotted Janie in the kitchen. Lucky pushed through the swinging door and approached the girl, who stood at the worktable, slicing tomatoes. “Janie, it’s all right. It was just a couple of dishes. It’s nothing.”

Janie had been crying; Lucky was sure of it. She glanced over at Sage who diplomatically pretended not to notice.

Lucky took her hand. “Come into the
office with me?”

“No. No. I’m all right, Lucky. Really, I am.”

“You don’t look all right. Come on.” Half pulling on Janie’s hand, Lucky led her down the hall and into her small office.

Janie’s eyes were rimmed with red. Lucky gently pushed her into a chair in front of the desk and sat across from her. “Something’s wrong. Why don’t you tell me what it is?”

“I’m real sorry I dropped
that dish and right in front of those two customers.”

“This isn’t about the dish.”

Janie swallowed. “You’re right. It’s just . . . I saw him again. That man.”

“The same man? The one you saw yesterday? Where?”

“Across the street. Watching the Spoonful again. When I looked up, I could’ve sworn he was staring right at me.”

“I think I’m going to have a talk with that guy. I don’t
like the sound of this.”

“Well, that’s not the only reason I got so upset. Not really. Although it was kinda creepy. But there’s something else.” Janie paused for breath. “Yesterday . . . when I got home . . . I mentioned it to my mom—you know, how I’ve noticed this man a bunch of times around town. It seems like I’ve seen him wherever I’ve been.”

“I’m sure she’s concerned for the same
reason I am.”

“Well, that’s just it. Not really. She got mad. She started grilling me about where I was and what I was doing. She was really angry at me, Lucky.” The tears started to flow again. “And I don’t know why. It was like I did something wrong. And I didn’t.”

Lucky was reminded again how young and sheltered Janie was. Seeing her every day at the restaurant, marveling at her efficiency,
it was easy to assume Janie was much more of an adult than she really was. The truth was that Janie was a kid just out of high school.

“I doubt she was really mad at you or thought you did anything wrong. Maybe she was just frightened some man might be bothering you.” Lucky waited for a response. When none was forthcoming, she continued, “Just remember, she’s trying to adjust to being alone.”
Lucky softened her voice. “Your Dad’s passing has been really hard for her. She wants to protect you, and she’s probably worrying too much about everything.”