Page 4 of Evidence of Secrets

The car damage was the work of Sam Knight’s stalker, Colin Woods. Woods was dead, shot by his ex-girlfriend, Chrissie Thorne. She was serving time for killing him and attempting to kill Sam and Claire Harkin.

Something else was going on that Laura couldn’t put her finger on. An offer to buy the bistro came out of the blue, missing food, and a feeling that someone was watching her.

All little things. Well, not little things but things she couldn’t do much about. She needed to talk to Sam about hiring a security expert, but there wasn’t any extra money in the budget for that. Extra money? That was a laugh. There was no money.

Bah. No time to think about problems now. Laura glanced around the small stainless-steel kitchen. The bistro’s theme was French country meets coastal Florida. Warm and comforting but light and elegant. The theme continued into the dining room and outside.

Laura closed her eyes, and inhaled. The faint scent of basil and a whiff of last night’s meals, with undertones of lemon-verbena from the disinfectant cleaner they used, comforted her. Some people hated all the different restaurant kitchen odors, but they didn’t bother Laura. To her, they were a sign of success.

The bistro was her happy place. Each piece of furniture, every piece of equipment, the paint on the walls, the checkered floor, the plants—all hand-chosen by her. She replaced the original secondhand furniture over the years as she made money.

The first time Laura saw the dilapidated brick building with its large glass windows and a commanding view of the water and marina, she knew it was perfect for her dream.

Something about the building’s character pulled her in. She loved the bistro’s history and its unsavory reputation as a speakeasy. Black Pointe’s Riverwalk area was in the process of gentrification, and the price was right. The location was also perfect, right on the main drag, so people could sit and listen to the water lap on the pilings.

Laura reached for the wooden recipe box handed down from her grandmother. She gently stroked the top, hand-painted with radishes and daisies, but not too roughly. The paint was already peeling.

The sound of a door slamming made her scream again.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall.

“Sorry, Laura. That damn wind is so strong.” Levi Martin, the head chef, walked in, his gray hair tousled by the wind.

“Oh, damn. That’s the second time today that wind slammed the door shut.” She rubbed her forehead. “I need to fix the hinges of that door before I have a heart attack.”

Levi smiled, then looked around. His smile turned into a frown. “Crap. Rich is out again?”

“Yeah.”

“That makes how many days this year?”

“Too many.”

Levi put his things down and turned to Laura. “It’s none of my business, but having him call in so many times isn’t fair to you. Or me. I know you pay him for time missed.”

Laura bit her lip. “Yeah, I know. It’s just…” She took a deep breath and exhaled. “I know what it’s like to have a sick child and have to make those tough decisions.”

“You’re too kind. You need to think of yourself. This restaurant can’t survive if you’re paying for people who aren’t working and you have to fill in. You are already working too much as it is.”

“Hmmm.” Levi had been with her since she opened the bistro, and she appreciated his concern.

She paid her employees like Rich when they needed to take off for circumstances out of their control. They couldn’t afford to lose money. Rich had been at the bistro long enough to get paid for sick days but not long enough to get paid for days off. Levi was right. She didn’t have the money or energy to do it all.Crap.Thoughts for another day.

“We won’t have dessert today if I don’t get baking,” said Laura.

Levi busied himself with getting the utensils and pans he needed for the day.

Laura reached into the recipe box and pulled up her grandmother’s fruit tart recipe. Looking at the handwritten recipe on yellowing paper brought a tear to her eye.

Laura had never met her grandmother. Her mother told her grandma had owned a successful bakery. Laura would have loved to have met her, but grandma died shortly after Laura was born. Although her mother kept grandma alive in Laura’s mind, her grandmother’s sapphire and diamond ring that Laura wore was a physical reminder of her grandmother.

Whenever Laura needed a dessert recipe, she used one of her grandmother’s, and her customers were never disappointed.

She walked past the cold storage room over to the pantry. It was another piece of the building she loved. Laura pushed the sliding wooden door aside. The weathered brick walls and metallic shelving were perfect for the pantry. Laura wasn’t sure what the room was originally used for, but now it held extra dishes, glasses, bowls, liquor, and bulk containers of flour, sugar, and whatever other dry ingredients they needed, plus a freezer and wine refrigerator. Measuring out the amount of flour she needed into a bowl, Laura placed the container back on the shelf and closed the door.

What fruit was in season this time of year? It was summer, so she knew the market would have a cornucopia of summer’s bounty. Berries, peaches, plums, nectarines. The choice was overwhelming. She would have to see what was plentiful and cheap in the market.

However, there would be no dessert offered tonight if she didn’t make the pastry crust, put it in the refrigerator, and then get to the market.

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