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Catalina Vasquez, one of my best waitresses, heard the bell chime too. Her head snapped up from the chemistry textbook she'd been reading. Like me, Catalina was a student at Ashland Community College who worked part-time at the Pork Pit to make ends meet. With her long black hair, hazel eyes, and full-bodied figure, Catalina was quite popular with my male customers-especially Finnegan Lane, who always stopped to admire her assets whenever he came by the restaurant.
Catalina grabbed a couple of menus off a holder on the back wall and hurried behind the long counter that ran down one side of the barbecue restaurant. She reached the end, where I perched on my usual stool behind the old-fashioned cash register. I put down the copy of The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn that I'd been reading and signaled Catalina to stop.
"The lunch crowd has died down," I said. "Why don't you go on break now? I know you've got some errands to do. Take a couple hours if you want. I'll handle them. I was thinking about closing down until four anyway. "
Catalina flashed me a wide, grateful smile. "Thanks, Gin. You're the best. "
"Hmph. "
A grunt sounded from the middle of the counter, where Sophia Deveraux stood slicing a thick wedge of Jarlsberg cheese, one of the key ingredients in the Pork Pit's most excellent grilled cheese sandwich. The dwarf was dressed in her usual black jeans and boots. Her T-shirt was also black today with a large silver heart on the front that was broken in two and dripping crimson blood. A thick si
lver choker ringed Sophia's throat, and several matching rings flashed on her fingers.
Catalina Vasquez bit her lip and looked over her shoulder at the Goth dwarf. Catalina had only been working at the restaurant a few weeks, and she was still getting used to Sophia-and interpreting what the dwarf's grunts really meant. Of course, I knew that Sophia was mocking Catalina's assertion that I was the best boss ever, but I wasn't about to share that knowledge. I had a hard enough time keeping waitresses, given the dwarf's dour persona. I wasn't about to let a responsible, punctual, hard-working jewel like Catalina slip through my fingers because of Sophia Deveraux and her monosyllabic method of communication.
"Sophia agrees," I said. "You should definitely go on your break now. "
"Um, okay. If you're sure. "
Catalina handed the menus over to me, grabbed her black wool pea coat off the stand in the corner, and headed out the front door. I waited until she was gone before I stepped over to Xavier and Roslyn.
"This way, please. " I led them to a booth in the very back of the restaurant, out of sight of the glass storefront windows.
Finnegan Lane was already seated there against the back wall, wearing another one of his ubiquitous suits. Black, with a faint gray pinstripe today. A cooling cup of chicory coffee perched on the table in front of Finn, along with the remains of his lunch-a half-pound cheeseburger with all the fixings, steak-cut fries, and a triple chocolate milkshake that would go straight to anyone else's ass but his. I always envied Finn his ability to eat whatever he wanted and never gain a pound.
Roslyn slid into the opposite side of the booth across from Finn. Xavier sat next to her. I gave both of them menus and went to check on my only other customers-a couple of construction workers grabbing a late lunch before heading back out into the December cold. The two men were ready to pay up and leave. Once I got their change, I went back over to the others. Behind the counter, Sophia kept slicing cheese, her knife thwack-thwack-thwacking against the countertop.
"So what'll it be?" I asked, pulling a pad and pen out of the back pocket of my blue jeans.
"I'm not hungry," Roslyn murmured, tapping her French manicured nails on top of the laminated menu.
"Me either," Xavier rumbled.
"I don't care whether you're hungry or not," I snapped. "You're in my gin joint now, and you're damn well going to eat something. So tell me what you want, or you'll find yourself at my mercy. "
I might be a stone-cold killer, but no one could ever accuse me of lacking in the hostess department. Still, I gave them the hard stare to show them I was serious. Xavier ordered two barbecue pork sandwiches, coleslaw, baked beans, and a blackberry lemonade. Roslyn requested an ice water with lemon, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a fruit tray.
I cocked my hip to one side and looked at her. "Sweetheart, does this look like the kind of place that serves fruit trays?"
Roslyn's dark eyes flicked over the barbecue restaurant. I didn't have to look behind me to know exactly what she was seeing. Clean, but well-worn blue and pink vinyl booths. Matching faded pig tracks on the floor that led to the men's and women's bathrooms, respectively. A long counter lined with stools where people could watch their food being prepared on the opposite side. A framed, blood-covered copy of Where the Red Fern Grows on the wall next to the cash register, along with an old faded picture of two young men holding fishing rods. Cumin, red pepper, and other spices from the afternoon's cooking flavored the air, along with a healthy dose of pure, heart-stopping grease.
The vampire's wide mouth quirked. "No, I suppose not. "
"The only fruit I have in here is in the cherry pie. You can have some of that. With vanilla bean ice cream. Be back in a minute. "
I scribbled down their orders, tore off the paper, and took it over to Sophia Deveraux. The Goth dwarf had moved on from slicing cheese. Now she cut through a pile of tomatoes with a long, curved, serrated knife, making precise, neat little rounds for the rest of the day's sandwiches.
"Another order," I told her. "I'm going to flip the sign over to Closed for the next hour or so and lock the front door. And I'll be sending Finn and Xavier your way in a few minutes. Keep them busy in the back while I talk to Roslyn. "
"Hmph. " Sophia gave me her usual noncommittal grunt.
This morning, I'd told Sophia that Roslyn and Xavier were coming by to talk about a problem they were having-a problem I was thinking about helping them with in my own special way. The Goth dwarf's black eyes had actually sparkled a little bit at the thought of disposing of another body for me. Jo-Jo might take care of healing me, but Sophia was the cleanup crew. No matter how bloody a scene was, no matter how much tissue, brain matter, and other nasty bits were lying around, the dwarf could make the area look pristine. No blood, no hairs, no fibers, no DNA or fingerprints of any kind were ever left behind.
I'd often wondered if Sophia had the same sort of Air elemental magic that Jo-Jo had. Air magic was great for sandblasting things-like getting blood off a wall. But I'd never seen or felt Sophia do any magic. I didn't even know what the dwarf did with all the bodies I'd sent her way over the years. Didn't know where she took them or what she did with the remains. I didn't even know why Sophia enjoyed getting rid of the bodies in the first place. I had a feeling it had something to do with her ruined voice, which rasped worse than a chain smoker with a collapsed lung.
I'd never come right out and asked the dwarf. Fletcher Lane had instilled a healthy dose of curiosity in me, but I valued Sophia's and Jo-Jo's services and friendship too much to pry. At least for now.
Sophia put her tomatoes aside and started working on the order. I fixed Roslyn's water and Xavier's lemonade and took the drinks back over to the booth.
