The Secret’s in the Sauce

Pamala Rush

All disclaimers apply.

Dedicated to my mom who helped me with the idea and the closing scene.

 

I’m a waitress at a restaurant called Bar BQ Bob’s. Now usually, this would make for a pretty dull life, but when the owner is a cop and his partner is a doctor, well, let’s just say things get interesting.

I was never shot at until I started working there.

But I like Jesse and have a tiny crush on Steve and SOMEONE has to make sure they don’t run the place into the ground.

Just kidding.

They do a great job with the place considering neither one of them had any experience with restaurants before they bought Bob’s. They knew each other from Community General where Steve’s father worked. Sometimes, Jesse helped with Steve’s cases.

I had never gotten involved with any of their investigations until one day Steve came in tired and angry. I brought him his usual cup of coffee before I asked him what was wrong.

"I’ve been assigned a case that should have gone to missing persons," he said.

Against my better judgement I asked, "What is the case?"

"A man came up missing two days ago," Steve told me. "The assumption is that he was murdered. They found blood on a possible murder weapon but no body." He paused to take a drink of the hot black coffee. "I needed that," he said then continued. "If you can’t find a body, then there is no proof of a murder."

"Even I know that," I said.

"The captain doesn’t seem to care," Steve said and took another gulp of the coffee.

I smiled. "Well, good luck," I said as I untied the strings of my apron and took it off. "I’m off. Lunch receipts are on the desk in the office and the cook says he’s sorry about the pan." I escaped before he could grill me about the little accident that Jesse and Donnie, the cook, had with the pan.

I couldn’t help thinking about Steve’s case while I waited for the bus at the stop on the corner. I had to meet my sister for a very late lunch across town and I couldn’t stop thinking about the case as I traveled. Upon seeing my sister, however, I forgot everything about the case. Especially when she led me into a rival Bar BQ place.

"Kenya," I protested. "I work at a Bar BQ joint. I don’t want to eat at a rival’s place clear across town."

"I’ve been eating here for awhile," she said. "They have the best Bar BQ ribs in town."

"Better than Bob’s?" I asked.

"Some," she replied with a sly smile. "But not much."

She was right, she is always right. The meat was juicy, tender and flavorful while it had a strange taste to it. It didn’t taste like beef or pork but something else. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

The meal passed quickly with a slice of apple pie to end it. I said my good-byes to Kenya and got on the bus to head for home. When I got there I had a message on my machine. It was from Steve.

"We need you to come in an hour early tomorrow," came his voice from the speaker of the machine. "Something’s come up and I won’t be able to be there for my early shift like I thought. I’d really appreciate this and if you can’t be there for some reason, I understand." Like I could say no to him. I wondered for a second if he knew about my crush, then shrugged it off. Nobody knew. Not even Kenya.

I picked up the phone and dialed Steve’s number from memory. He and Jesse rely on me more and more these days since they’ve figured out that I know what I’m talking about. I have both of their numbers memorized.

"Sloan residence," came the voice of Steve’s father and the third, and mostly silent, partner at BBQ Bob’s.

"Hi, Mark," I said. "Steve there?"

"Not at the moment," he replied. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"I just wanted to tell him I’ll be..." I stopped when the phone clicked. "I think that’s me. Just a sec." I took the phone from my ear and hit the button to answer the other line. "Hello."

"Hey Cat. I need you to do a favor for me." It was Steve.

"Speak of the Devil and guess who comes walking up," I said. "I’m on the other line with your dad."

"So that’s why the line was busy," he said. "I was going to have you try him. I need to go question someone and don’t have time to be calling around for him."

"Something wrong?"

"I just wanted to know if he knew anything about a place called Sam’s," Steve told me.

I bit my lip. "I’ve been there," I said. "I had lunch there with my sister this afternoon. It had a nice atmosphere and good food. I don’t know what the meat was though. It was good but had a strange taste to it. What about the place?"

"It has to do with the case I’m working on," he said.

"The missing person?"

"That’s it," Steve replied. "Would you tell him to call me on my cel phone?"

"Sure," I said. "And by the way, I’ll be in when you asked."

"What?"

"An hour early tomorrow?" I reminded him.

"Oh yeah," he said. "Sorry, I forgot."

"No biggie. Later."

"Later."

I hung up that line and switched back to the other. "Mark?"

"Still here."

"That was Steve," I told him. "He needs you to call him on his cellular."

"Thanks," Mark said. "Did you tell him what you had called here for?"

"I sure did," I said. "I’ll talk to you later."

"Later," Mark said and the call disconnected.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

He was on his way to his car when the phone rang. "Dad?" he answered it.

"Yeah, Steve," Mark said. "What’s up?"

"I’m going to be questioning a Sheila Rogers at a restaurant across town called Sam’s," Steve told his father as he got in his car and started it. "It’s about the Willington disappearance. You ever hear of the place?"

"Not right off hand," Mark said.

"Cat told me she was there yesterday," Steve said. "Sounds like a pretty nice place."

"You want me to find out anything about it?"

"If you would," Steve replied. "And I’ll probably be late, so don’t wait up for me."

"Will do," Mark told him then disconnected the call.

Steve pulled up in front of Sam’s Restaurant and parked the car at the curb. There were lights on and movement inside indicating that someone was still there. He rapped at the door and help up his ID to the person who came to see what he wanted.

"Is there something I can do for you officer?" the woman asked after opening the door.

"Are you Sheila Rogers?" Steve asked.

The woman nodded an affirmative. "Is something wrong?"

"I working on the missing person," Steve replied. "Can I come in?"

She let him walk past her into the restaurant. "Did you find Trace?"

"No, but we found evidence that he might have been murdered," Steve replied.

"Murdered? Do you think I did it?" Sheila asked without much emotion.

"It’s not that," Steve said although he now considered her a suspect. "You were the last person to see him alive."

"That you know of," she replied.

"That I know of," Steve agreed as he sat down at a table. She handed him a cup of coffee. "Do you know if he had any enemies?"

"Not one," Sheila said. "Everyone liked him."

"What about you?" Steve asked.

"That sounds like an accusation to me," she said.

"It’s just a question," Steve replied.

Sheila sat back in her chair. "You’re going to arrest me aren’t you?" she asked through narrowed eyes.

"Not if you didn’t do it," Steve said. "You’re acting awful guilty."

"That’s because I am," she said almost smugly.

"Why?"

"Because I got tired of him sticking his nose where it didn’t belong," Sheila said as she stood and went behind Steve as if to get another cup of coffee.

"What did you do with the body?" Steve asked.

"You’ll find out soon enough," Sheila said and Steve felt something cold and hard on the back of his neck. "Raise your hands." He did as he was told as she reached around him and took his gun out of its holster and his cel phone out of his pocket. "Wouldn’t want you calling for help. Stand up and go. I’m a crack shot, so don’t try anything." He again did as he was told and led them to the walk in freezer. "Open the door and go in," she ordered.

"What are you doing?" Steve asked.

"You’re going to have a very cold death," she said. "Now open the door and go in."

Steve pulled the handle and stepped into the cold chamber as Sheila flipped a switch to turn the light on. "Hasta la vista, baby," she said and shut the door behind him. A lock clicked into place after it.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

I tried to sit down and read, but that was an impossible task. I was curious and when I get curious, well... I’m the one for whom the phase, "curiosity killed the Cat" was coined.

Finally, I tossed down the book, grabbed my denim jacket and motorcycle helmet and headed out the door to the garage where my classic Harley sat. I didn’t get to ride it too often, but today I was hoping to get Steve’s case out of my mind. How did Sam’s restaurant have anything to do with a missing person?

Somehow, I found myself in front of the place. Night had fallen and I realized I must have been riding for hours before finding myself here. I glanced up at the darkened sign and rode around to the alley. Down the alley I rode until I saw the restaurant’s name painted over the door. I parked several meters down the darkened alleyway and pulled off my helmet and riding gloves.

I glanced in the garbage on the way in. There were bone shards in the bottom of the almost empty bin and I hopped up and inside to take a closer look. They looked nothing like the thick beef and pork bones I was used to seeing discarded at BBQ Bob’s. I picked one up and looked carefully at it. It was splintered and broken and I could feel my curiosity getting the better of me once again. I picked up several of the shards and began piecing them together. When I had finished, the now identifiable bone that sat in front of me made me feel sick to my stomach.

It was a human femur.

I was mortified as I remembered the taste of the meat I had eaten at lunch. I turned and let the remnants of my meal come up in the corner of the bin. After having done so, I still didn’t feel any better but had the presence of mind to slip a shard of the bone into the pocket sewn into the lining of my boot. I usually kept cash there when I was wearing something without pockets.

My plan was to get the shard of bone to Mark at Community General Hospital. He was a consultant with the police department and would know what to do about it. I just hoped he wouldn’t think I was nuts.

I put my hands on the edge of the bin and swung my feet over, landing on them with a slight thud. I looked up to find a woman standing over me with a gun pointed at my chest. I bit my lip and held up my hands.

She gestured to the backdoor of the café and I went in. "I’ve got people poking around everywhere," she mumbled as I led her to the freezer. "They’re coming out of the woodwork."

Before I could ask what she meant, she opened the door of the freezer. The cold mist swirled around and then cleared to show a very cold Steve Sloan sitting on the floor shivering. She shoved me in and I fell into Steve’s arms. Then she closed the door behind us.

"What are you doing here?" Steve demanded between chattering teeth.

"I was about to ask you the same thing," I said as I pushed myself away from him. "You OK?"

"She wants us to freeze to death," Steve said.

"Yeah," I mumbled. "Tomorrow’s lunch entrée."

"What?!"

I told Steve of the strange tasting meat at lunch and my grisly discovery outside. "What led you here?"

Steve tried unsuccessfully to stop his teeth from chattering. "The last person to see Trace Willington, the missing person, was the owner of this café, Sheila Rogers."

"So you came to question her," I finished. "How long have you been in here?"

He looked at his watch then tapped and shook it, putting it up to his ear. "I don’t know," he said. "My watch stopped."

I looked at his watch then at mine. "If when your watch stopped is any indication," I said. "You’ve been in here for over three hours."

I took off my jacket and wrapped it around him. He tried to give it back saying, "You’ll get cold."

I smiled at him. "I’m used to the cold," I said. "I’m from Alaska, remember?"

He smiled. "That’s right." He fell silent as I stood and looked around.

"There has to be a way out of here," I said as I tried the latch.

"Not that way," he said. "It’s locked."

I began rummaging around in the bins and jumped and screamed when I opened one and came upon the head.

"What?" Steve asked, tossing my jacket aside and coming to joining me, his arms wrapped tightly against his torso.

"I think I found something to identify our victim," I said.

"Proof that he was murdered, at least," Steve said, his teeth chattering loudly.

I put the lid back on the container and turned to him. "Come on," I said as I rubbed his arms. "Let’s move around. Get the blood flowing."

"I’m too cold to move," Steve said as I picked the jacket up and put it back around his shoulders.

I pulled him as close as I could, wrapping my arms around his waist under the jacket and rubbing vigorously to increase warmth.

"My feet are cold and they hurt," he said and I looked down to find that he was wearing a pair of simple loafers with no socks.

"Yipe!" I exclaimed. "Sit down!"

He sat back on the cold metal floor and I slipped his shoes off. I wrapped as much of my warm hands around the icy coldness as I could. He moaned in pain at my touch. "I think we caught it in time," I said. "Frostbite is just beginning to set in." I pulled off my own boots to get to the thick socks underneath and pulled them off as well.

"What are you doing?"

"We need to get your feet warm," I told him. "The socks should do it."

"Why are you wearing such thick socks on such a hot day?"

"These boots leave blisters if I don’t and I don’t like to ride my motorcycle in sandals," I said as I put his shoes back on.

"What... what... are you going to do to keep your feet warm?"

I slipped the leather boots back over my now bare feet. "I’d rather have the worlds biggest blisters," I said. "Than let you lose your feet to frostbite."

He smiled slightly and I moved close to him. I threw the jacket over his front and sat behind him, wrapping my legs around his waist. I pulled him as close as I could get him and tried not to let my own teeth chatter as I sat against the cold wall. I lay my head on his shoulder to wait out the night.

"I take it you have an idea," Steve remarked, his shivering more controlled.

"The inkling of one, yes," I said. "But for now the plan is just to try to keep each other warm."

"You want to let me in on it?"

"Not until it’s solid," I replied. "Talk to me. Tell me anything you want."

"Like what?"

"I don’t know," I said, thinking. "What made you decide to pair with a doctor and open a bar bq joint?"

He turned his head slightly in my direction and I could see his smile. "Do you remember hearing about the terrorist bombing of CG last year?" I nodded so he went on. "I was in it when it blew and I got trapped with Jesse..."

That’s how we made it through the night. Steve told me about some of his more unusual cases and I told him about life in Alaska between walks across the floor to keep our blood moving. He said that talking about twenty below temperatures made him feel warm.

It was getting on toward morning if my watch was anything to go by when he started to fall asleep. I shook his face. "Don’t you fall asleep on me," I ordered. "Let’s get up and move around." I stood, pulling him after and helped him walk in circles. I didn’t like the way he was acting. I checked his feet and they looked fine. I was worried because if he went to sleep, he might not wake up. "Come on, Steve. Move around."

He was trying to do as I ordered, but he was fading fast. I turned him to face me and struck him across the face. "Wake up!" He seemed a bit more alert after that and I was able to get him to walk around. "Think warm."

He smiled drunkenly. "The beach behind the house with a set of swimming trunks." He paused. "And I’m getting sunburn instead of frostbite."

I giggled. "There you go."

We walked for several minutes before he turned to face me. "I think you’re beautiful," he said.

I blushed. "Thanks."

"I think it’s cute that you have a crush on me." I blushed even more, but before I could speak he put a finger on my lips and went on. "And I think a kiss right about now would warm us both up."

His lips touched mine and I let the kiss deepen and go on. He was right, it did warm me up.

Noise at the door ended the kiss and we looked to see it open and Steve’s father appear there. Steve sighed in relief and let himself fall to the floor.

^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Later at the hospital after I had been checked and released, I went up to the room where Steve had been admitted. Mark came out just as I was about to go in.

"If it hadn’t been for you," Mark began. "Steve would have died."

"He would have been fine," I said.

"You saved his feet, too," Mark stated with protest in his voice. "I will be eternally grateful." He stopped to kiss my cheek. "You have my undying gratitude."

"It was nothing," I said. "Just using what I grew up with to someone’s advantage."

"I’m glad you were there," Mark said then kissed my other cheek and went off. I watched him walk away for a moment before going in.

"Hey stranger," Steve said. "How are you?"

I held out my arms and turned. "Jess gave me a clean bill of health. None the worse for the wear. I could use a good night’s sleep, but..." I shrugged. "What about you?"

"I get to keep my feet," he said as he wiggled them under the blanket. He fell silent as his feet fell still. "About those last few minutes in the deep freeze..."

"It’s forgotten," I said before he could go on.

He lifted his head. "Who said anything about forgetting it?" I looked at him in surprise. "I was going to ask you to dinner."

"Anything but Bar BQ," I said with a shake of the head.

He laughed.

^^^^^^^^^^^^

A couple of days later, Steve and I were both back at work, both none the worse for the wear. I brought him and Jesse each a plate with a helping of potato salad and one of our famous Bar BQ sandwiches. I leaned on the counter as Mark and Amanda Bentley came in.

"Cause of death was blunt force trauma," Amanda reported as she handed the folder she held to Steve who took a bite of salad before opening it.

"Thanks Amanda," he said with his mouth full as she sat next to him.

Mark stood behind his son and looked at the report over his shoulder. "You performed an autopsy on the head?" I asked.

Amanda nodded and stole a pickle from Steve’s plate. She got a bite out of it before Steve took it back and put it back on his plate. The cook said my name and I turned to find that he had made a plate for Amanda. As I set it in front of her I spoke. "You know," I said. "This whole incident reminds me of that movie ‘Fried Green Tomatoes’."

"Where Frank Bennett got killed and they bar BQed him?" Amanda asked before taking a bite of her sandwich.

I nodded as Jesse got up to take the money from a customer. They were just barely within earshot and we heard the customer compliment the food. "This is the best Bar BQ I have had since I left Oklahoma," he said. "What’s your secret?"

"The secret’s in the sauce," Jesse said. He didn’t realize what he had said until he turned back to his friends after the customer had left to find us laughing. He quickly joined in.

"That’s right," I said with a smile. "The secret was really in the sauce."