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Back downstairs, the cameras were placed in a box to take back to Belle Fleur and inspect further. Someone was going to have a rude awakening when they tried to log in again. Nine and Ghost explained that someone had been out on the balcony. They took a quick glance at Islip’s feet, realizing that he had rather small feet for a man.
“It wasn’t me,” said Islip. “I see you looking at my feet. I wear a size nine, and I haven’t been on that balcony for at least a year.”
“Who’s next door?” asked Ghost.
“On the left is a privately owned home. It’s really just a winter home for a couple that lives in Maine. They come down here usually October to April. They left early this year because of a tree falling on their home in Maine. They’re much older, anyway. I don’t see how they could have done it.”
“And on the other side?” asked Nine.
“It’s Sliders. A sports bar with two dozen televisions, games, all kinds of things. I’ve never had any trouble with them, but they can get pretty loud. As far as I know, they don’t even have access to their top floors.”
“We’ll check it out. Thanks for meeting us down here,” said Nine. Islip just nodded, then shook his head, perplexed.
“It’s not a problem. It just keeps getting curiouser and curiouser.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Wilson, Sara, Dylan, and Gator left Belle Fleur early the next morning to visit the farmer’s markets, fishmonger, and butcher. Both of the women had dealt with all of them on many occasions but never seemed to have trouble with them.
“I hate to think of someone intentionally tampering with food to drive Islip out of business,” said Sara.
“Unfortunately, that’s exactly what it looks like,” said Wilson. “Someone planted cameras in the restaurant, watched how the food was prepped and delivered, and continues to somehow do something to the food.”
“Is there a common ingredient or dish on the menu?” asked Dylan.
“That’s a great question,” said Gator. “I don’t think they’ve asked that. I’ll shoot a text to Nine and the others and see if they can get with Islip later this morning.”
“Well, the list of vendors he uses are the same ones we use. He relies on fresh ingredients, produce, meat, fish, all of it. For things like condiments, he uses the same company we do. I’m just not understanding this,” said Dylan.
“When we get to these places, let Dylan and I take the lead,” said Sara. Wilson frowned at his wife.
“Why?”
“Why? Because when you frown like that, you look as if you’re going to rip someone’s throat out. Maybe just back up a bit and let us handle this. These people know us and have worked with us,” smiled Sara.
“Fine. But I’m not going far.”
“I didn’t ask you to go far,” she smiled, kissing her husband’s cheek. “I never want you far from me, you know that.”
The first stop of the morning was the fish market. The fishing boats went out early in the morning, catching shrimp, grouper, catfish, red snapper, mackerel, tuna, and redfish. Some days were lean, others loaded.
Today, they caught them on a loaded day. Every stall was stacked with the day’s catch.
“Oh, wow,” said Dylan. “Look at that redfish! Let’s get some while we’re here.”
“Hold on, babe. How are we going to keep it fresh until we get back?” asked Gator.
“They’ll deliver for us,” said Sara. “They know where the café is, and we ask that they deliver there. They’re really good to us.”
“Miss Sara! Miss Dylan! How y’all doin’?” asked an older man.
“Good morning, Wahoo!” smiled the women, waving at him.
“Wahoo?” smirked Gator.
“Don’t you make fun of him. Wahoo is one of the types of fish he’s known for bringing in. He earned that nickname, and he’s a lovely man and always good to us,” said Dylan, scolding her husband.
“Sorry, babe. Of course.”
