Yappy Hour (14 page)

*   *   *

I left the cruise line office feeling dejected. Not only would I probably not get the job, but Rachel wasn't on the cruise, either. I wandered through the town square, aimless, until I got to the Meat and Greet. As I stood at the threshold of the building, I recalled receiving the text from Rachel that was the start of all my troubles. I sighed and pushed open the door.

The overhead bell rang out as I stepped inside. “Hi, Norma. I'm here for steaks again,” I said, thinking about how Beepo had been the one to enjoy the last round of steaks I'd purchased.

Norma rushed out from behind the counter and grabbed my hand. “Oh dear! I heard about Dan. It must have been awful for you. I'm so sorry.”

“Thank you. It was awful.”

We bowed our heads without another word, observing a moment of silence for Dan. When we looked up, Norma blurted, “I have to say, though. I never did like that man very much. Although I feel sinful saying it now that he's dead and gone. But really—”

I squeezed her hand. “What is it, Norma? Do you know who might have wanted Dan dead?”

Her eyes flicked toward the door, and then she said in a low voice, “You know, now that you mention it, I heard that Max had it out with him the day before Dan was found dead.”

“Max?”

The bartender extraordinaire who'd literally saved my bacon behind the bar.

The door to the bar had been unlocked when I'd gotten there. Max had said he sometimes helped Rachel bartend. Did he have a key to the bar?

Norma studied my reaction. “Do you know him?”

Before I could reply, the bell above the door sounded, and I turned to see Gus. He stood in the doorway, tall and imposing. He wore dark pants and a white shirt open to the third button, his olive skin peeking out, exuding masculinity. Heat rushed through me from head to toe. I blushed. He smiled widely when he saw me, and something inside me fluttered.

What was wrong with me? Why was I getting so flustered to see him, especially since I'd just had a great date with Officer McHottie, aka Brad Brooks?

“Maggie!” Gus said. “What a surprise. Good to see you!”

Norma looked from Gus and then back to me. She hid a smile as she said, “Oh, I have to check on that order in the back. I'll just be a minute.” She disappeared.

Gus rapped his fingers on the counter. “I'm glad I ran into you. Are you free for dinner tonight? The restaurant's closed and, I think, so is The Wine and Bark, right?”

“Oh, um…”

Disappointment flashed across his face. “Do you have other plans?”

“I'm picking up a few steaks for my dinner with my great-uncle,” I said.

“Ah! Steaks huh? That's a little more complicated than a frozen meal.” I must have blushed, because he hurried to say, “What I meant, was … maybe I can cook for both of you.”

My mouth salivated at the thought. “I couldn't impose—”

“It's no imposition! I love to cook. It's what I do. I'd love to grill some steaks for you and your uncle.”

It hardly seemed fair to prevent Grunkly from having the opportunity to savor the exquisite culinary talent of Gus DelVecchio.

“I'm sure Grunkly would love that,” I said.

Gus studied me. “How about you, though, Maggie?” He stepped closer to me and I could feel the heat wafting off his body.

Good God, what was up with my hormones?

“Would you like if I cooked for you both tonight?” he asked.

“Yes,” I admitted.

Even though I'm confused as hell about you and Officer Brooks.
But how could I deny the rush that it gave me just to stand next to him?

Norma returned from the back room. “Gus, what can I do for you?”

“Hi, Norma, I came to review this week's order.” He grew solemn, and I knew he was thinking of Dan.

I browsed the greeting cards while Norma and Gus sat down to review the order for DelVecchio's.

From the snippets of conversation I heard, it seemed Dan ordinarily put in the meat orders. What was it about him that Norma hadn't liked? I'd have to ask her later.

 

Chapter Fifteen

On the way to Grunkly's, Gus and I chatted about my interview at Soleado. He chuckled when I told him about the watercooler. “Don't worry about it. I'm sure they'll hire you. We don't get your kind of talent in the cove very often.”

“My kind of talent?”

“New York! That's serious street cred.”

I couldn't tell him I'd been an utter failure in New York. At least, it felt that way. After my breakup with Hank and the downturn in the economy, I'd slowly lost most of my clients, until I was forced out of business.

Gus maneuvered us around the town fountain. We took a small side alley I hadn't been down before. A delicious aroma of fresh baked goods wafted through the air.

“I figure we can stop by Piece of Cake and pick up a baguette to go with dinner,” he said.

Oh man, I was getting weak-kneed just thinking about Gus in his element. Fresh steak, fresh bread. It was going to be one hell of a meal. We entered the bakery and I thought I'd died and gone to heaven. Tray after tray of éclairs, cannoli, cream puffs, sugar-covered beignets, croissants, and cupcakes lined the right of the store, while racks of homemade bread in every variety imaginable lined the left side of the store. A heavily pregnant woman wearing a mint green apron greeted us.

“Hi, Gus, are you here to put in your order?” she asked.

Gus shook his head. “DelVecchio's is closed for the week…”

She glanced from him to me. “Oh … right. Of course it is. I'm so sorry. I heard about Dan. I'm so sorry.” She nervously smoothed her hands around the front of her apron, her palms coming to rest on her extended belly.

We selected a sourdough baguette, then a few small tarts for dessert. Gus and I wound our way toward The Wine and Bark to pick up a bottle of pinot for dinner.

“I'd take you to the farmers market to buy some fresh vegetables, but they're closed today,” he said.

I stopped walking and looked him square in the eye. “Gus, I have to level with you about something.”

His eyes darkened and he suddenly became serious. “What is it, Maggie?”

“Grunkly's house is a mess. I'm nervous that you won't be able to cook anything over there at all.…”

He waved a hand around. “Don't worry! The mark of a good chef is to make a nice meal no matter the circumstances!”

I laughed. “Okay, you might be in for more than you bargained for, but don't say I didn't warn you.”

*   *   *

Grunkly eyed Gus suspiciously. “A cook?” He didn't exactly say cooking was women's work, but his expression more or less said it.

Gus chuckled. “I prefer the word
chef
.”

Gus and I entered Grunkly's house. The scent of cigarette smoke lingered.

“Have you been smoking again?” I asked Grunkly.

“No, no. You know I'm not supposed to smoke, honey.”

Gus hid a smirk, but I narrowed my eyes at Grunkly. “If I find a pack of Lucky Strikes here, you're not getting dessert.”

“There's dessert?” Grunkly asked hopefully.

I showed Gus to the kitchen, maneuvering around the graveyard of electronics and stepping over three stacks of papers. Gus, to his credit, said nothing about the mess. If possible, the kitchen was even more of a disaster than the rest of the house. Grunkly normally ate off paper plates, so locating the real dishes along with utensils was a challenge.

Gus and I tackled the kitchen together. I found the glassware while he wiped the counters. I had a strange, comfortable, and homey feeling working next to him. He filled the sink with suds and sang in Italian while he rinsed dust off the dishes.

“I never wash them by hand anymore, with the dishwasher and all, but I love it. Isn't it a nice feeling to put in a dirty plate and see it come out clean from your own labor?”

I laughed. “I guess you can look at it that way. Or you can see it all as one messy, greasy operation.”

He frowned, seemingly at a loss to understand how anyone could see washing dishes as a chore.

“Besides,” I said, “Grunkly has a dishwasher. It's just on the back porch.”

“What?”

I giggled. “You heard me.” He followed me over to the back porch and I swung open the door for him. Outside was a dishwasher circa 1981. Gus laughed so hard tears sprang to his eyes.

“Why does he have it on the porch? Does it work?”

“Of course it works!” Grunkly said, peering at us from the kitchen door. “I don't keep anything around that doesn't work. The rinse cycle is just a little off, so I use it for other things.”

Gus tried to keep a straight face. “Other things?”

“Well, I couldn't get the plumbing to work right out there, either. I didn't want Maggie or her sister tripping on any pipes, so I just store herbs in there.”

A look of horror crossed Gus's face.

I wondered why I'd allowed him to talk me into his coming over here. Surely he'd see the ridiculousness of trying to cook at Grunkly's, and that would run him right out of the house and away from me.

I realized how much I was enjoying working in the kitchen with Gus; then a strange feeling swept through me, almost as if I felt guilty for feeling good. As if I was betraying Brad somehow by enjoying Gus's company. But that was silly. Brad and I had only shared a simple dinner date. Who knew if there was even any future for us? It wasn't as though I had promised either guy anything serious.

While Gus laid out the steaks and seasoned them, Grunkly leaned in to me and said, “Can I have a word with you, Maggie?”

Gus smiled at me as if to encourage us to have our conversation in private. He said, “I'll uncork the wine.”

Grunkly and I left the kitchen to the relative privacy of his living room. Grunkly pressed a message into my hand. “Rachel called.”

“She did!” A zip similar to that of an electrical current danced up my back. “Where is she?” I demanded.

A guilty expression crossed Grunkly's face and he admitted, “I forgot to ask her.”

“What?” I stuttered.

Anger ripped through me and I fought the urge to throttle my dear, elderly great-uncle. After all, it wasn't his fault Rachel was so irresponsible.

He raised an eyebrow. “Is it important?”

“Of course it is! She's a lead suspect for Dan's murder!”

“That's ridiculous. That child couldn't hurt anyone!”

“What else did she say? When is she coming back? Has she eloped or what?”

Grunkly's eyes darted back and forth and I knew he'd not asked her any relevant questions. “Uh…” he said, “she said she didn't want to call you because she thought you were mad at her.”

“Of course I'm mad at her. She's disappeared, off gallivanting somewhere, and I'm stuck here in the middle of a murder investigation.”

Grunkly worked his lower lip. “Do you have any idea who could have killed him?”

I told Grunkly about my conversation with Norma and what she'd said about Dan and Max.

Grunkly grimaced. “Do you think Max could have bumped him off?”

“I don't know. He was very nice to me, helping me with the bar and all.”

Grunkly gripped my arm. “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts, Maggie. It could all be a ploy to get your guard down.”

A shiver danced up my spine. Was Gus also being nice to me to throw me off his trail?

“Who else are the police looking into?” Grunkly asked.

I motioned toward the kitchen with my chin.

“He can't hear us,” Grunkly said.

“No—I mean him. They're looking into him.”

Grunkly looked shocked. “You've brought a suspected murderer into my house!”

“Grunk—”

“And he's cooking for us! What if he poisons us?”

“He won't. He's already cooked for me and I'm still alive. Believe me, you would have killed me if I'd denied you what you're about to taste for dinner.”

Grunkly looked unconvinced, but the smell of olive oil and garlic wafting in from the kitchen was enough for him to say, “Let's make him eat first.”

 

Chapter Sixteen

Although Gus had prepared a spectacular dinner for me and Grunkly, I had another fitful night and awoke yearning for the normalcy of a routine. Getting a job would help, but at the moment the only normal felt like finding Rachel and investigating the Dan mystery. I jumped out of bed and decided on a trip to the coffee shop before returning to the Meat and Greet. I wanted to talk to Norma without Gus around, but first I needed some caffeine.

I walked the short distance to Magic Read, the bookstore/café in town that hosted a magic shop. The young clerk had a spiked green Mohawk and a frightening snake tattoo that covered the length of his arm. I could barely understand him due to the piercing in his tongue, but somehow got a nod from him when my order was ready.

I handed him a five-dollar bill and he thrust a pen through it. He held up the bill to show me the pen had penetrated it, then immediately pulled out the pen and showed me that the bill was intact.

I laughed. Suddenly, he coughed up my change in coins and said, perfectly clearly, “Here you go!” I marveled that he had no piercing in his tongue at all.

“Nice trick,” I said. “Keep the change.”

He chuckled and placed the coins into an overflowing tip jar. “Works every time.”

Walking across the cobblestone path, I could tell the day was setting out to be another scorcher. It was still early, but already the sun lasered onto the stone path, reflecting back an almost blinding light. I made it over to the Meat and Greet and pushed open the front door with my hip, juggling the two coffees in my hand. The bell tinkled overhead as I walked in, and Norma looked up from mopping the floor.