Chapter 18

  

Up in her room after Jennifer called a wrap on the day, Penelope slipped out of her Red Carpet Catering sweatshirt and soiled chef pants, dropping them in the hamper outside the bathroom door. Pulling on a clean pair of pants and undershirt from the bureau, she went to the closet and sorted through her chef jackets, choosing her short-sleeved red one. When she put it on, she felt something in the interior pocket.

“Crap,” Penelope said, remembering she’d stuck the check she’d found in there and then forgotten about it. She made a mental note to call Denis when she got to the restaurant.

  

Penelope placed the well-seasoned filet mignons into the smoking hot cast-iron pan. The steaks would only need two minutes on each side and then another three minutes in the oven to reach the perfect temperature. She wrapped a white kitchen towel around the handle of the sauté pan on the next burner and picked it up, flicking her wrist and causing a wave of mushrooms to somersault in the air and land back in the pan. She rolled them around a few more times and threw in a sprig of thyme and a dash of sea salt. Eyeing the menu she had taped beside the service window, she mentally ticked off the items she’d practiced cooking that evening. She felt confident that, with the support of Jordan’s kitchen crew, running a service at Festa wouldn’t be terribly difficult. If she could stay awake through it.

“Order up,” Penelope mumbled to the invisible wait staff on the other side. “Ava, dinner is served at the bar,” she called toward the closed office door behind her, nodding when she heard Ava’s faint response. The kitchen floor had been cleaned, but Penelope could still make out the vile scratches on the walk-in door. She hoped Ava was in there looking up how to buff them from the metal. Penelope slid the warm plates through after placing the steaks and mushrooms on top of a smear of golden parsnip puree. She used a towel to wipe the rims, eyeing her work carefully to make sure everything was perfect.

Penelope walked the plates through the empty dining room and sat them on the bar, which had also been cleaned since the break-in. Ava had lost some of her anxiousness after watching Penelope whip through the specials menu, calling on her restaurant line-cooking skills she hadn’t used since working in a small restaurant back home during high school. Ava had left it up to Penelope to sort through the refrigerator and pantry to see what they’d need to order for their eventual reopening, tucking herself into the office to work on reports and payroll.

“Dinner’s ready,” Penelope said again, poking her head into the office when Ava didn’t appear at the bar.

Ava pulled her eyes from the computer, her hand clawed over the mouse on the desk. “Smells great,” she said, clicking a few more times and standing up.

They sat at the bar and ate, Ava making appreciative sounds as she chewed her steak. The glass shelves along the mirror behind the bar were nearly lined with liquor bottles, the glass reflecting the symmetrical flow of white tablecloths in the dining room. The bottles looked like soldiers awaiting instructions.

“Have there been any updates from the sheriff?” Penelope asked.

“About…”

“The break-in. Does he have any idea who might have done it?”

Ava shook her head and swallowed a piece of steak. “Kids, that’s what he thinks. Like you said.”

“That’s so stupid,” Penelope said. “How did they get in?”

“Apparently, one of them had a key,” Ava said darkly. “Which reminds me.” She pulled a single key from her jeans pocket and slid it across the bar to Penelope. “The front and back are the same now. New locks went on this afternoon.”

“So the theory is it’s someone who works here?” Penelope asked.

Ava closed her eyes and sighed. “I hope not. I would hate to think someone we have in our inner circle, our family, would hurt us that way. Even if it was just a prank, it was pretty ugly.”

“I guess it could be anyone who’s ever worked here, or any family or friends of former employees, if they got hold of a key and made a copy,” Penelope said.

“I know. The locks hadn’t been changed in years, since we took over, actually,” Ava said.

Penelope took a bite of parsnip puree and thought about the wait staff. There were four of them, all friendly from what she could tell. They were all in their late teens to early twenties and seemed like a tight group of friends. She’d never noticed anything off about them, but then again, she didn’t know them very well either. She assumed that would change by some degree the following evening.

“Jordan’s funeral is Monday,” Ava said.

“I’ll let Jennifer and the crew know. I’m sure some of them would like to go and pay their respects,” Penelope said.

Ava nodded. “I already told Jennifer. She acted like she wasn’t going to give anyone the time off to go, but I think she thought better of it.”

Penelope rolled her eyes.

“She’s been under a lot of pressure. I’m not sure what’s going on with her.”

“I’ll just stay quiet,” Ava said.

“I’m sure you’ve known her much longer than I have,” Penelope said.

Ava shook her head and ate a forkful of puree. “No, I hardly know her at all. Jennifer, Jordan, and Megan grew up here. I met Jordan in culinary school in San Francisco. I moved here to work with him on the restaurant, and by then Jennifer had moved.”

“You opened Festa together?” Penelope asked.

“Yeah. We started with the diner on Main Street, then took over this place.”

Ava waved around the room with her fork.

“You don’t cook?” Penelope said, taking another bite of steak.

“No, I manage the business side. I didn’t go to school for culinary arts. I have a certificate in hospitality management.”

“Do you miss California?” Penelope asked.

“Yes,” Ava said without hesitation. “And now with Jordan gone, I feel aimless. He was the reason I came here. Now I don’t know what I’ll do.” She twirled the tines of her fork on her plate.

“It’s a lot to think about,” Penelope said. “Don’t try to figure everything out at once or make big decisions while you’re upset. The restaurant is doing well, so you still have that.”

Ava looked down at her plate.

“Hey,” Penelope said. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have brought all of this up.”

“I’m okay.” She smiled weakly. “This is a very grand meal, Penelope, but it’s missing something.” Ava slid off her stool and walked behind the bar. She bent down and Penelope heard wine bottles clinking together. “This will make it truly fabulous,” she said, setting an expensive cabernet on the bar. Penelope recognized the label, the swan with its wings in the air forming a circle.

“That reminds me,” Penelope said, watching Ava open the bottle. “Denis left a case of samples behind. I stored them underneath in the corner.”

“He’s on vacation this week, somewhere near Chicago. He said he was leaving his work phone behind, destressing at some retreat for sales professionals.” Ava looked down on the floor then back up at Penelope. “You said it’s under here?”

“Yeah,” Penelope said as Ava filled two large goblets with wine.

Ava set a glass in front of Penelope and came back around. “There’s no wine down there. Someone must have moved it.”

“We’re the only ones who have been in here, except the police. Do you think whoever broke in stole the case of wine?”

“Why would they only take one case of wine?” Ava asked, looking at the rows of liquor bottles on the shelves in front of the mirror, doing a quick inventory.

“I know, it doesn’t make any sense,” Penelope agreed.

“Nothing makes any sense right now. Let’s not worry about it. If it was just samples, it wasn’t in the inventory. Hardly a loss.”

“Still, I’m heading into town tomorrow. I’ll swing by and tell the sheriff so he can add it to his report.”

“Fine, if you want to,” Ava said. “I don’t want to think about it right now. Let’s talk about something more cheerful. What’s the latest gossip in the world of entertainment?”

Penelope looked at her incredulously. “You’re asking the wrong person. I barely have time to sleep, much less keep up with that kind of thing.”

Ava took a sip of wine. “You live with an A-list celebrity actress. I’m sure you hear things.”

Penelope shook her head. “Nothing lately. Arlena’s not really into gossiping.”

“Well, how are things going on the set?” Ava asked.

Penelope groaned. “Ugh, I’d rather talk Hollywood gossip.”

Ava laughed quietly. “Sorry. Let’s talk about the weather.”

“No,” Penelope said. “It’s going to snow, I think.”

“Oh man,” Ava said. “Okay, let’s just drink wine and forget about everything.”

Penelope nodded. They clinked glasses, but Penelope felt less than cheerful. She tried to put off the feeling of dread in her gut, her mind trying to grasp onto something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“I am going to tell Sheriff Bryson about the missing wine. Maybe it will help.”

Ava took a healthy sip from her glass. “Sure, sounds good.” She swirled the ruby liquid in her wineglass, not seeming to care one way or the other.