A Dish Best Served Cold: An Italian Kitchen Mystery (Italian Kitchen Mystery, An) (9 page)

T
he next day, my ever-resourceful family held a giant lunchtime barbecue at the Casa Lido. The minute we lost power, my grandmother divided all the perishable food among those with working refrigerators (keeping a careful inventory, naturally) with orders to bring everything back in the morning. We cooked every vegetable and every piece of meat and fish outside, with Tim, Nando, and even Chef Massi working the outdoor grill. We put a sign outside advertising a prix fixe grilled luncheon, and by eleven thirty we had yet another line of customers outside the Casa Lido doors—one that included our mayor, Ms. Anne McCrae.

“Oh, Victoria,” she said, waving me over. “I don’t suppose you could find me a table right away? I do need to be back to my office as soon as possible.” She flashed me a bright, fake smile. “No rest for the weary!”

“I’ll see what I can do, Anne.”

“You do that, dear,” she called as I hurried away. “And then maybe we can have a chat about that little fool’s errand you sent my police force out on.”

I skidded to a halt out on the sidewalk. Of course the mayor would know what the police had confiscated from that alley. And did she plan to use that information against us? I doubled back, a smile plastered on my face. “Anne, why don’t you come with me and I’ll get you seated now?”

“Why, thank you. That’s very kind.” She followed me into the dining room, where I led her to a small table in the corner. “Now, this is very cozy,” she said as she settled into her seat.

“I’ll bring you some water right away,” I said. “Would you like something from the bar?”

She sat up straight in her chair. “I’m a city official on duty, dear. Water will be fine. But don’t hurry away just yet, Victoria.”

I tried to affect a cheery tone. “Well, I’d like to stay and talk, but you saw that line out there.”

“This won’t take long. Sit,” she said in a tone with which there was no arguing. I sat. “Good. First of all, I’d like to say that what you did yesterday was admirable in its way, but it was completely unnecessary.”

“You mean when I called the police about the wine bottle?”

“Do keep your voice down, dear,” she said through her teeth. “You need to understand something. That man’s death was unfortunate, but it was an accident. He was an elderly alcoholic who drank too much and likely drowned in that carousel house. In fact, the sooner we sell that carousel, the sooner we can put all this behind us here in Oceanside Park.”

“But—”

She held up a callused palm. “As the Bard once said,
but me no buts.
Consider this a friendly warning, Victoria. Please don’t attempt to do any
investigating
”—here she made air quotes—“of your own. It will only bring more trouble to your family.” She cocked her head and looked at me steadily. “We’ve already had one murder in this town. Now, I don’t think for a moment that anyone here gave Mr. Petrocelli that bottle of wine; as I said, I firmly believe his death was an accident.” Her gray eyes were hard. “But that might not be the perception in town. And such a perception would not be good for the Casa Lido, would it?”

“No,” I said quietly. “It wouldn’t.”

“So we understand each other, then?” She shook open her napkin and spread it across her lap. “Good. Now if you could bring me a diet cola and some rolls, that would be wonderful. Thanks, dear.”

“Oh, you’re very welcome, Anne,” I muttered under my breath
.
What had I started? What was I bringing down on my family? And for that matter, the town: Calling attention to Pete’s death gave Anne the perfect excuse to close down the carousel house. I threw some rolls into a basket with shaking hands; when I looked up, I saw Lori at the drinks station pouring a soda. I waved her over.

“Listen, L.J.,” I said, “I’m sorry about bringing the police here yesterday. I’m still kinda mortified about it all.”

Lori set the drink down and slipped her arm through mine. “What were you gonna do, pretend that bottle wasn’t there? I know you better than that, girlfriend. You wouldn’t have been able to sleep at night.” She lowered her voice. “And I also know you think somebody offed Pete—am I right?”

I sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe. I can’t help thinking somebody gave him that wine on purpose.”

“You know what? I trust your instincts. But if you’re planning to run around asking people questions, be careful, okay?”

“I will be. I’m a wuss, remember?”

She grinned, her round, freckled face full of warmth. “Only when it comes to boardwalk rides. I remember it well.”

“Ah yes, our teenage years—when you would try anything once and I would hold your purse while you did it. Thanks for listening, pal.” I handed her the basket. “Now would you mind bringing these over to Her Honor and taking her lunch order? I presume the drink is hers?”

“You presume right. She caught me on the way in.”

“Of course she did. Okay, time to let in the rest of the hungry hordes. Has Alyssa come in yet?”

Lori nodded. “She was just getting her apron on in the back. But today’s her last day, you know. Says she’s got to get ready to get back to school.”

“And her sorority, no doubt.”

“I hear you two girls talking about me!” Alyssa stood with her hands on her hips, a pose that was undercut by her wide smile. “I’m
so
going to miss working with you both. We’ve had such
fun
this summer!”

Sure we have. Except for that dead guy in the carousel house.
But it was hard to be cranky in the face of such perkiness. “Yes, we have,” I said.

“It wasn’t so much fun yesterday,” Lori said. She lifted the basket of rolls. “I better get these over to the mayor.”

Alyssa turned to me, her blue eyes wide. “What did she mean? What happened yesterday?”

So there was at least one person in Oceanside Park who hadn’t heard about our visit from the police. Well, she’d hear about it at some point today. And if I was the one who told her, I might learn something she knew or remembered from the night of the party. “The police were here,” I said. “I, uh, called them when I found a wine bottle in the alley next to the restaurant.”

“You called the police for a wine bottle?” Alyssa repeated. “What’s the big deal about that? Somebody probably threw it there instead of recycling it.” She shook her head. “Some people are so thoughtless.”

I shook my head. “It’s not that. I actually thought Pete might have had it the night he died.”

Alyssa blinked in confusion. “Who’s Pete? I don’t understand.”

“The homeless man they found in the carousel house,” I explained.

“You mean that disgusting old man who tried to crash the party?” She wrinkled her nose. “He died?”

“Yeah,” I said, “I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it.”

“Well, I didn’t work Saturday or Sunday, so I was kind of out of the loop. And to tell you the truth, I’m
so
busy getting ready for school that I’ve barely had time to think about anything else.”

“Alyssa, did you by any chance see Pete leave that night?”

“Nope. Sorry.”

“Did you notice if he came back? Because Nando saw him a bit later, but I’m having trouble pinning down the time.”

She frowned. “I don’t know why you’re so interested in this, Victoria.”

I smiled. “Ah, it’s probably my overactive writer’s imagination at work, but I can’t help being curious. We couldn’t find you at one point and I just wondered if you’d seen Pete again.”

She lifted her shoulder and smiled brightly at me. “It was a busy night. I could have been anywhere. Listen, I have to get back out there, but in case I don’t get a chance to see you later on, I just wanted to say it’s been a pleasure, Victoria.” She held out her hand to me.

“Same here. Come see us next May, okay?”

“You bet! But in the meantime, we’ve got a party of four at the head of the line, so I hope Table Five is ready,” she called as she walked away, her blond ponytail swinging behind her, the picture of innocence.
But are you as innocent as you look, Miss Alyssa? And do you know more than you’re willing to say?

*   *   *

By three thirty, the last of our guests had gone, and my grandmother called us to a meeting at the family table. She sat between my parents, her yellow pad in front of her, the page covered in notes. “First things first,” she said. “Is the lunch cleanup completed?”

“The linens are cleared off and bagged for the laundry, Mrs. R,” Lori said. “And Alyssa finished busing everything before she left.”

“And the dishes are all washed,
senora
,” Nando added.

Her face cracked in her closest approximation to a smile. “Thank you, Lori and Nando. We can always count on both of you.”

Certain that was intended for me, I kept back a sigh. “Coffee and drink stations are cleaned,” I said. “And the machines are unplugged and emptied of water.”

Nonna merely nodded and went on to the next item on her list. “Massi, have you canceled the food orders for the rest of the week?”

“No, but I pushed them back by a few days. I can always revise the menu if necessary. And if the power is back and I am needed . . .” He paused here for effect. “. . . I am willing to come in on Saturday.” Massi lifted his Roman nose in the air, looking around the table as if for applause for this sacrifice.

“
Grazie
, Chef,” my dad interjected. “What else, Ma?”

“Victoria, check the refrigerator for perishables,” Nonna said, still looking down at her yellow pad. “Once it’s emptied, Tim should clean it with bleach and prop the door open.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Now, please,” she said curtly, and I hopped up from the chair, knocking into Chef Massi, who took my arm to steady me and smiled.

“Va bene, cara,”
he whispered. “All will be well eventually.”

“Thanks, Massi,” I whispered back, and relieved to be out from Nonna’s harsh glare, I headed to the kitchen, where Tim was crouched in front of the walk-in.

“I hear you’re on cleaning patrol,” I said. “What did you do wrong?”

“I exist. Hey, you okay?” he asked over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

He put the sponge down and straightened up to face me, and yes, my heart did a tiny tarantella when I saw his concern. “Because I know what it cost you to call the cops yesterday,” he said. “And to have to face your crazy grandmother afterward.”

I smiled. “You’re the second person in two days to call her that. Flo was the first, right before she quit.”

“Flo quit?”

“Yup. Then she called me a
narc
.”

“Ouch,” he said, wincing in sympathy. “Sorry about that. Actually, I think Jason quit, too.”

“And today was Alyssa’s last day; she’s getting ready to go back to school.”

Tim shrugged. “But it doesn’t much matter now, does it? Without power, we can’t really stay open, so we don’t need the summer help. It was damn lucky your grandmother thought of having us refrigerate all our stuff—hardly anything went to waste.”

“So she’s crazy like a fox,” I said.

“Indeed she is, lass,” he said, and I didn’t even chide him for his bad Irish brogue. Because as I stood across from him in that kitchen, I was unaccountably happy. He was worried about me. Heck, he had
empathized
with me, and no matter what had happened between us, our friendship, at least, was intact.
He says he’s changed, Vic,
said a small, treacherous voice in my head.
Maybe he has.
Right.
And even if he has changed,
I replied to the insistent little voice,
he has a girlfriend. And I have a sort-of boyfriend.

“Thanks, Tim.”

“For what, Vic?”

“For being there. I really appreciate it.”

He took a step closer and rested his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t want your gratitude. I want—”

The kitchen door swung open, and Tim dropped his hands.

In the doorway stood my mother looking startled, but also a little pleased to see us together. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt anything. I was looking for Victoria.”

“Well, you found me,” I said, wondering why I felt guilty. “What’s up, Mom?”

“Honey, could I speak with you for a moment? C’mon out to the dining room.” She motioned me to follow, and we sat at a corner table, far from where the staff was still engaged in an animated discussion.

The minute we sat down, I tried to ease my mother’s fears. “Being closed for a couple of days won’t kill us, Mom.”

“Honey, you know as well as I do that we can’t lose our Labor Day business.” She glanced at my grandmother, who was still presiding over the staff meeting. “We’re already a little behind this year.”

“I know,” I said, patting her hand. “Because of that mess in the spring. What does the town say about the power situation? It’s been almost three days.”

“Your brother tells me the utility company is working around the clock. They’re
saying
we’ll have power back in time for the holiday weekend, but I’m not sure we can count on it. Is it a problem for you at the cottage, hon?”

“Not much. I’ve got a gas stove and hot water heater. At night, I read with a flashlight. Anyway, I’ve barely been there with all the work to do here.”

She looked around the dining room nervously. “Not for much longer. And even if the power comes back on for Friday, we’ll be losing three days of business in the meantime. And it’s not just us, but the staff, Lori and Nando especially. They have families.”

“They’ll be okay, Mom. They know our work is seasonal, and they plan for that. But I know what’s really bothering you. You’re worried about Daddy because of that bottle.” She blinked and nodded, her large dark eyes suddenly brimming, and I grabbed her hand. “Danny said it’s not likely to go anywhere. I feel ridiculous for even calling.”

“But what if you were right?” she asked in a whisper. “What if somebody gave Pete that bottle deliberately?”

“I think that’s possible, Mom.” I didn’t want to share my theory of Pete “knowing things” about people as a motive. “But it wasn’t Daddy.”

“Of course it wasn’t!” She leaned closer. “But his fingerprints will be all over it.”