Katrina and Cassie sat down with us at the table and traded restaurant gossip with Josh for a few minutes. “They both used to work at Magellan,” Josh explained, “and they came over here with Tim when he opened this place up. Ian, too.”
Katrina snorted, “I don’t know why Tim wanted
him
. Ian’s a dirtbag.” She pointed at me. “Does Chloe know about him?”
Oh, I loved gossip! “No, what about him?” Eager for juicy details, I looked to Josh.
He sighed. “See, while Tim was in the process of opening Essence, Madeline figured out that Ian was scamming Magellan out of money. Instead of just firing him, she sent him over to Tim’s place without warning him.”
The two servers nodded in agreement. “Yeah,” Cassie said. “Ian was making good money from it, too.”
“How did he do it?” I was totally ignorant of how cash registers and credit card machines worked.
“Well, in a couple of ways.” Katrina leaned in with excitement. “Ian would run the customer’s tab through on their credit card and then have them add their tip and sign for it. The check stays open on the computer until the end of the night. Ian is the headwaiter, so he’s one of the only people who can void out items on the register. He’d just go back and void out an item or two, run the check through with the same total, and pocket the extra money for a bigger tip. Forging a signature isn’t that difficult. When the customer gets their credit card statement, everything looks right—except that the restaurant got a smaller percentage of the money they paid, and they’ve inadvertently left Ian a bigger tip. Same thing if the person pays in cash. After the customer leaves, Ian can void out their old check entirely, as though that table was never there, or ring up a new charge with a smaller total, and pocket the difference in cash.”
“Yeah,” Cassie explained. “See, some people totally go over their check with a fine-tooth comb, and others just sign whatever you put in front of them. Lots of people don’t ever look at their credit card statements. Ian just had to be able to read his tables well and figure out if he could pull it off. And most of the time he got away with it.”
“So how did he get caught?” I asked. “I mean, when you ring stuff up at the cash register, you’re alone, right? There’s nobody there watching you every time.” As someone who could barely jaywalk without guilt, I was amazed that someone else could engage in felonious activity on a regular basis without having a nervous breakdown.
“You’re right,” Katrina nodded. “Nobody’s watching you at the register. But I think Ian got a little sloppy. And greedy about how much extra cash he could take home. And some of the diners caught mistakes in their checks. I guess Ian sometimes added extra items to checks, miscellaneous items or extra drinks, so that the customer would pay for a higher amount. Once in a while, Ian would have trouble with a table, or the customer would ask to speak to a manager, which would’ve been Ian himself. Or Madeline. Sometimes he could just explain it away as a mistake on his part and not bring Maddie into it, but after a couple of times, she figured him out and fired him.”
“And let him work for Tim?” I said in disbelief.
“Right,” Josh said. “I think it was her little dig at Tim for filing for divorce. Mostly they both handled it politely, but that was her underhanded way of sticking it to Tim. She probably figured Tim would figure out what Ian was up to sooner or later, and he wouldn’t lose that much money in the process. And on the other hand, she did let Tim have Cassie and Katrina, and I know they were her top servers at Magellan.”
“Listen, I have to get back to my tables,” Katrina apologized. “We should all hang out sometime, okay? Good to meet you, Chloe.”
“Since I’m your official waitress,” Cassie said, “can I get you two something to drink? Or have you already figured out what to order off the vast menu?” she said sarcastically.
We asked for bottled water and then ordered different menu items for each of the three courses so we could try everything.
“Garrett must be miserable with this new menu,” Josh said. “He’s not the best chef, but he’s better than this. Honestly, I can’t believe—”
“Josh, listen,” I cut him off. “That happened the night I was here with Eric. The check thing with Ian. He was working a table near ours, and the couple complained to him about their bill. But what was odd is that Eric jumped in and took care of it. And then he gave Ian some kind of warning, something about remembering what they’d talked about. At the time, I guess I thought Eric had taken it upon himself to scold Ian for screwing up the check and being a bad waiter. But now I bet Eric knew what Ian was doing.”
“And,” Josh added, “Eric might’ve been getting a piece of the profits for keeping quiet about it. I mean, on a good week and with the high-end clientele, Ian could’ve been taking home an extra seven or eight hundred dollars. Fifteen, twenty dollars from, say, five tables a day? More from the bigger parties that come in and drink a lot and don’t pay attention to what they’re spending? That’s good money. Split that in half, and Eric still would’ve been getting money that he apparently needed badly.”
Josh and I stared at each other.
“Until,” I said, “Eric threatened to tell Timothy unless he got more money from Ian. Or until Ian just got sick of sharing his profits with Eric and he killed him.” We’d caught the murderer! I was sure it must be Ian.
“But,” Josh pointed out, “for someone who owed as much as Eric did, he wasn’t going to make
that
much money off of Ian. Although it might have been enough to pay minimum balances on everything he owed.”
I dug my cell phone out of my purse. “I’m calling Detective Hurley and telling him what we figured out.”
Josh reached over and put his hand over my phone. “I’d rather you didn’t do that. It’s just going to upset Tim and piss him off that everybody knew about Ian and didn’t tell him. Besides, I’m still a free man. If I get hauled off to the slammer, you can tell Hurley, okay?” He smiled.
I agreed to wait to pass the information on to the detective, but I did ask Josh why no one had informed Tim about Ian’s nefarious check practices. In particular, why hadn’t he told Tim?
“Look, Chloe,” Josh sighed. “I’ve told you how tough this business is to be in. I just try to keep to myself. I do my job and let Maddie deal with everything else. I try not to rock the boat with anything, and I’ve got to pick my battles. Most people are out for themselves here, me included. And I’m not about to do anything to piss off Maddie and get myself fired. She pays me more than most restaurants pay their chefs, and I can’t go ratting her and Ian out to Tim. Same thing for Cassie and Katrina. They need their jobs, and who knows what Ian might think of to say to Tim about them. And I don’t think they care. They do their job, they get good tips, and they know they’ll be the last to be let go if the restaurant fails. Why mess with that?” Josh took my hands in his. “I told you, I’m not perfect. But you might do the same thing if you were in my shoes.”
I had to agree. In the scheme of the world, maybe what Ian was doing wasn’t that big a deal. Unless it implicated him in Eric’s murder—and cleared Josh.
Josh continued to hold my hands, and we talked until our appetizers arrived. I’d just finished telling him about the awful paper I had to write for school when Cassie placed plates in front of us.
“Okay, here’s a salad with pears, candied walnuts, and blue cheese for you, Chloe. And the butternut squash soup for you, Josh.”
The salad was pretty good. Nothing out of this world, but good enough. I watched Josh and was mesmerized by how serious he looked tasting his dish. And by how wonderfully his blue shirt enhanced the blue of his eyes. And by the thought of ripping that blue shirt off his body, popping buttons across the restaurant, and ravishing him in between courses.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
“Oh, fantastic!” I practically pounced on him.
“Really? Mine has too much salt and doesn’t taste like much else.” Oops. He meant our food. “Garrett is always afraid of underseasoning things. Sometimes he goes overboard in the other direction.”
“Right. I mean, mine is okay. It’s good. It’s just not amazing, and it’s not something I would’ve ordered if there’d been other choices. This salad has been done plenty of times before at other restaurants.”
“This sucks. I have to talk to Tim about this.” Josh looked touchingly disappointed for his old boss.
Having resolved to take my social work studies seriously, I’d been pondering my Group Therapy class’s focus on expressing feelings and now decided to practice my skills on Josh. “So, how are you
feeling
about everything that’s going on?” I asked nonchalantly. “How is it at Magellan? I know Madeline doesn’t think you’re a murderer, but is it uncomfortable over there at all?”
“Surprisingly, it’s not that bad. I’ve known everyone over there for a while, so no one’s treating me any differently. We’re all just waiting for this to blow over. I think we’re just all on edge. It’s such a freaky thing to have happen to someone we all knew. And at Tim’s place, for God’s sake. And only a few blocks away. The biggest problem we’ve had recently is all the accidents in the kitchen. Brian burned the crap out of his arm the other day when he walked too close to a burner. And I cut my hand on one of my knives.”
“Is it bad? How did you do it?” I grabbed his hand and realized I’d been so distracted by my love goggles that I’d failed to notice the big bandage across Josh’s palm. “I can’t believe I didn’t even see this!”
“I’m fine. Someone must’ve put one of my knives into the drawer where I keep other kitchen utensils. I reached in for something and got a good gash. Ever since I met you, I keep misplacing things and losing track of what I’m doing at work . . . but I don’t mind. You’re worth it. Chefs get burns and cuts all the time. My hands are covered with old burn scars, but I’ve got leather hands, so it doesn’t bother me too much. I can just stick my finger in a hot saucepan and not feel it.” He grinned proudly.
“You’re insane, and I love it!” I grinned.
“I’m worried about Brian, though,” Josh admitted. “He’s still trying to get it together. We all have accidents, but Brian has more than most. Did I tell you about the fire the other night?” I shook my head in alarm. “Oh God. I didn’t tell you about this? Something on the grill caught fire, which isn’t that unusual, but for some stupid reason, Brian grabbed the hose from the sink and sprayed the flames. Idiot,” Josh spat out.
Confused, I asked, “And that didn’t work?”
“Chloe, you
never
hit a grease fire with water,” he told me sternly. “It basically causes an explosion. I was standing right next to the grill. I was trying to grab the baking soda, which is what you’re supposed to throw on a grease fire, and I couldn’t stop Brian in time. He just panicked and went for the water, but he
knows
not to do that. Everyone who works in a kitchen knows that. He felt terrible about it and apologized a million times for being so dumb. He singed his hair and coughed for a couple of hours afterward, and I barely got out of the way in time. At least we weren’t hurt badly.”
“You shouldn’t be worried about Brian, you should be furious with him! Josh, you could have been horribly burned!”
Josh paused for a moment. “Oh, I’m definitely angry with him. There’s no question about that. And disappointed. He’s been coming up with all these dishes he wants me to put on the menu, but they all suck. Everything he thinks of has been done before—nothing original. And I know he’s got it in him. Or at least I think he does. I want him to.”
Josh looked miserable about Brian’s failures. I wondered how angry Brian was with Josh for pushing him so hard and rejecting all of his ideas.
I had a suggestion. “Josh, why don’t you run a few of Brian’s dishes as specials, even if they’re not great. It might boost his confidence and let him know you believe in him. He must look up to you so much, I’m sure it would mean a lot to him to get your approval.”
“I can’t do that, Chloe. It doesn’t work that way. I’m not doing his dishes if they aren’t up to snuff. No one gave me any breaks, and it made me better,” Josh said heatedly. “Do you know, when I had my first job in a kitchen, I used to have a guy pace behind me while I cooked. He’d jab a steak knife into the back of my thigh if I wasn’t moving fast enough. I’d stand on the goddamn line with blood dripping down my leg, cooking and sweating and working my ass off with this guy watching every move I made. So, no,” he shook his head. “I’m not cutting Brian any slack.”
Josh was riled up now, and I couldn’t blame him. “Did you report the guy to your boss? That’s sadistic! Sticking you with a knife!”