AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“What do you have good today, Wahoo?” asked Sara.
“Now, you know everythin’ I got is good. All fresh, you know that’s true. Boys were out real early this mornin’.”
“I think we’ll take our usual amount of the redfish, shrimp, catfish, and tuna. Just have the boys deliver it to the café as usual.”
“You got it, darlin’,” he said, smiling as he handed the young man behind him the order. “What else can I do for ‘ya?”
“Can you answer a few questions?” asked Sara.
“I’ll try,” he frowned.
“We have a friend who’s been experiencing issues with his food in his restaurant. Strange things. Food making people sick, going bad before it’s time, even maggots. We’re curious if you’ve heard of anything going on here.”
“Maggots? Darlin’, maggots happen when food’s been left out a while. Not when it’s fresh. Sometimes, it happens because of flies sittin’ on the food. But if it’s fresh, that don’t make no sense.”
“That’s what we thought as well,” said Dylan. “None of this makes any sense.”
“Is it happenin’ with their veggies and fruits too?” he asked.
“Yes. Everything,” said Sara.
“Well, you might check their refrigeration system. If it ain’t keepin’ stuff cold, that could work. Especially down here. Or if someone is turnin’ it off, that would make things spoil. Dependin’ on the type of vegetables, they need to be stored between 32° to 35°F, or if they’re summer veggies, 45° to 55°F. Ain’t for all things, but for most.”
“I’m just curious,” said Wilson, “would any of the vendors at the farmer’s market have a desire to do something like this? Would they have a reason to ruin someone’s business? We’re just searching for answers.”
Wahoo stared up at the big man, then smirked at Sara.
“You said you had a big boy for a husband. I believe ‘ya now. Well, now, chefs can be fickle creatures,” he smiled. “Not these beauties, but others.”
“No, of course not these two,” smirked Gator. The girls nudged him, but he only laughed.
“Sometimes, these chefs get too big for their britches. They talk about farm to table, or always fresh, but they don’t give no credit to the vendors, to the farmers, fishermen, and ranchers who provide that fresh food. We rely on that kind of business but give credit where it’s due. You didn’t go out and catch yer own fish this mornin’. Let the public know where you got it.
“Now, I ain’t never had an issue with it. I don’t sell to the individual. I sell to the business, and I get that they might not give me credit. But others, well, they might see it different.”
“You’ve been a big help as always, Wahoo,” smiled Sara.
“You’re my favorite customers,” he grinned. “Rest of these animals pale in comparison to the two of you. Like a breath of fresh air.”
Sara and Dylan kissed his cheek, and he winked at the boys, giving a nod. They just chuckled, knowing that he thought he got one over on them.
“Where to next?” asked Gator.
“Let’s go to the Butcher’s Market on Quebec. They only sell to restaurants, and to Wahoo’s point, they pride themselves in their grass-fed beef and lamb. Maybe someone pissed them off by not giving them any credit for their product.”
“We’ll find out,” said Wilson.
About twenty minutes later, they were walking the concrete floors of the indoor beef market. Butchers with their bloodied aprons were lined up, ready to cut whatever you needed.
“Now, this is more my kind of shopping,” smirked Gator. “Give us all the ribeyes and prime rib you’ve got.”
“We have plenty of beef,” said Dylan. “Don’t buy anything. We usually deal with Raker Tomasson. I don’t see him.”
“I don’t either,” said Sara, looking around the big space.
“What do you need, beautiful?” asked a man behind the counter. Sara raised her brow, and Wilson let out a low growl.
“First, my name is Sara. Try using it. Second, I’m looking for Raker Tomasson. Where is he?”
