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“He scares me,” said Martin.
“He’s just an overstuffed neanderthal,” said his brother. “They’re doing what we asked of them, and they don’t seem bothered by what they’ve found. I’m happy with that.”
“Fine. Let’s go see Islip’s daughter. Do you have some things for her to try?”
“I’ve got an entire cooler of product for her,” smiled Alex.
“You know, maybe we’re going about this in all the wrong ways. Maybe we need to get the large food distribution companies involved in this. Get them on board, and then they can convince their customers that this is the future of food.”
“Not yet,” said his brother. “It’s too soon. We need to get the word spread on this in the city first. If New Orleans will do it, the meat- and fish-eating capital of the South, then maybe others will follow.” Martin nodded.
“I hope you’re right. Because the money is running out. And so are the bodies.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Islip sat across from Nine, Gaspar, Ian, and Ghost, listening as they explained what the brothers at RMN were doing. At one point, they thought he was going to be sick as he turned his head, swallowing and taking in deep breaths.
“How? How can someone think this is okay?” he asked.
“We’ve seen men do a lot of things that weren’t okay, chef. This is only the tip of the iceberg. Our team has gone into the other restaurants that were affected by the spoiled food and discovered hidden cameras there as well.
“We think that they sent an amateur in to place the cameras so they could watch the events take place. They wanted to see the restaurants swirl into chaos, lose their customers, and panic. It’s all part of their game,” said Ghost.
“Game? This is my life,” he said quietly. “Who does this to someone who has spent their entire life trying to build a business? It’s not just me. Rosalie over at Pink Lady, she’s been running that place for almost forty years. One of the best Southern chefs I’ve ever met. That woman works more hours than I do. Her staff has been loyal to her for decades. Why would anyone want to hurt that poor woman?”
“I know this is difficult, chef,” said Nine. “We had someone attempt to destroy our reputation and business a while back. All it takes is a little exposure, and you’ll be right where you should be. We’re going to stop them, but we know that if we don’t have all i’s dotted and the t’s crossed, they’ll find a legal loophole.”
“Martin and Alex are coming up the street,” said Otto, ducking his head into the small office. “You guys disappear. We’ve got Casey covered.”
The men nodded, heading out the back door to sit at a coffee shop around the corner. As the other chefs were prepping the evening meal, Casey looked at Gabe, Luc, and Otto.
“You won’t leave me, right?”
“We’re right here, honey. They won’t attempt anything in the restaurant, trust me. Let them talk, we’re recording everything. When they’re done, just let them know that you need to think about it.”
“Okay. I can do that,” she nodded. Luc stared at the young woman, still seeing the sadness in her eyes.
“Casey, if you can’t do this, we can figure out something else. Don’t push this. You’ve just lost your father.”
“No. No, it’s alright,” she said, smiling at the man. “I’m okay. I’m just sad for chef. If this doesn’t stop, he may lose the restaurant.”
“We won’t let that happen.” Nodding at the men, she moved back toward the kitchen window, seeing the door open, and the two brothers walked in.
“Miss Islip?” they called. Casey walked out into the dining room, holding a finger to her lips.
“Please, let’s discuss this out here,” she said, leading them to the second-floor space. “I love my coworkers, but they have big ears and bigger mouths.”
“Then I take it your father doesn’t know that you’re meeting with us,” said Martin.
“Are you kidding me? I’d never get the restaurant if he knew. He’s at the bank right now. Something about an extension on his loan,” she said casually.
In the office downstairs, Otto, Luc, and Gabe were shocked at her commanding performance. The others were listening from the coffee shop, making sure nothing went wrong.
“We can sit here,” she said, pointing to the table next to the big French doors. She opened them to allow the fresh air to float through the space. Taking a seat near the window, she folded her hands on the table and waited.
“Well, I guess that’s our cue,” smiled Alex. “Listen, you obviously know a little about our products, or we wouldn’t be here. Food sustainability is in question all over the world. We’re trying to build a better pantry, a better freezer, a better everything. We can use materials other than the natural source to recreate every food on the planet.”
“And what does it taste like?” she asked, trying to hide her disdain.
