Smoked (The Alex Harris Mystery Series) Page 6

  Julie Vang shrugged. “There may have been some truth to some of the things she wrote. Stuff is expensive, you know. I need to keep my prices down so I used fillers in some of my dishes. Who was I hurting? People came and they liked what they got and they came back. I bet if you checked, you would find out every restaurants adds stuff.”

  That was not a concept I wanted to explore. I believe what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you and I wanted to leave it that way as far as behind-the-scenes in the restaurant business went. I had seen too many documentaries on the restaurant industry and it was a wonder people ever ate out at all.

  “But you were advertising as vegan and you clearly weren’t,” I pointed out to Julie.

  “Where you hear all this stuff from anyway? Who sent you here? Oh, I know. Frank. He and his wife own a restaurant over in Indian Cove. He sent you right? He hated me. Said I was giving vegan and vegetarian restaurants a bad name. Tried to get me to use local produce from area farmers, but they charge too much. Who needs that?” Julie pushed a long strand of dark hair away from her face. “He and his wife wanted to start some sort of, what do you call it, a group of vegetarian restaurant owners to exchange ideas, work together, support local family owned farms, all that crap. Who needs that? I want to sell my food and make money.”

  “So were you upset about the blogs? Did your business die down?” I asked.

  “Nah. I didn’t like what that lady was writing but so what. It was just her opinion, right? Who cares. I changed my menu and now I’m a Vietnamese restaurant. See. Look around. People still come.”

  I looked around A few people still came but then maybe this was as good as it ever got for the Great Wall. It was also an odd time, between lunch and dinner, so maybe the restaurant was doing better than it appeared if it had this many people at this weird hour.

  I left a few minutes later. I didn’t see Julie Vang as someone who took criticism to heart. She just changed things around and moved on. I had a feeling Carol Corliss sent me here more out of a personal vendetta against the restaurant than anything. But Frank Corliss was starting to interest me more. I really needed to find out where he worked.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Having my own business certainly had its perks and one of them was I knew a lot of people. I also knew our database was filled with contacts for every business within a hundred-mile radius.

  As soon as I got back to the office I asked Millie to contact the human resource managers at manufacturing firms in Bridgeport and discreetly find out if any of them had a Frank Corliss working on the loading docks. As Millie was usually the point of contact these people had when they needed to hire an interim employee, I thought she was the best person for the job. Plus I was hoping to get some work done before I left to meet John for dinner.

  “Oh, good, you’re back,” my sister said as she came into my office and sat down.

  “What’s up?”

  “Have you talked with Millie today?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah, just now. I asked her to do something for me. Why?”

  “Did you notice anything?”

  “No. Does she have sea foam green eyes again?” Our office manager had a penchant for dressing for holidays and coordinating her eye color, via contacts, to match her outfits. We hadn’t seen the sea foam eyes in quite a while though a very pretty violet color had made an appearance recently.

  “No. Nothing like that. She’s….well, she’s…”

  “Spit it out,” I said. I could feel myself getting impatient.

  “She’s cranky. There, I said it.” Sam sat up straight, clearly proud of herself for getting this disturbing information out.

  I took an audible gasp. “What? That’s not possible. Millie doesn’t have the cranky gene. She doesn’t have the nasty gene or the petty gene. Are you sure?” This was horrifying news. We counted on Millie to be the good cop to our sometimes bad, overly stressed cranky cops.

  “I’m sure. She snapped at me,” my sister said, clearly wounded.

  I put my hand to my heart. “This can’t be. What are we going to do? She can’t be turning into, well, us, can she?”

  Just then Millie came in with the information I requested. Sam excused herself and left rather quickly I thought.

  “He’s working at a window manufacturer and he takes his lunch at noon. He likes to sit out at a grassy area they have and read. If you show up tomorrow you should be able to speak with him.”

  “Perfect,” I smiled. “Just the information I needed. So, how have you been, Millie?” I asked, the words sounding lame the minute they left my mouth.

  Millie sat down. “Okay, what did Sam say?”

  “About what?” I tried to sound innocent, but Millie just gave me the look. “Okay, here’s the deal,” I leaned forward on my desk and clasped my hands together. “She said you seemed out of sorts today. Anything you’d like to talk about?” Please God, don’t make her give her notice.

  “Rueben asked me to move in with him?”

  “He did?” I brightened. “That’s wonderful?”

  “Is it? I’ve never lived with anyone before. I’m twenty-nine years old and I still live with my mother.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with that. You’ve been waiting for the right guy. I admire you.”

  “I don’t know what I’m so scared of. I mean, I spend the night over at his place a couple of times a week, but this would be, well, hopefully forever. Is he the right guy?”

  “What do you like about him?” I asked, hoping to help her sort everything through.

  “He’s fun. And kind. And Gran loves him. We have a great time together and he likes to just hang out with my family. He fixed a light switch in my mom’s room last week. And last Saturday night we got take-out Chinese, played Scrabble and then we all watched a movie. He’s easy to be with.”

  “He sounds like John,” I smiled. Meme loved him from day one and that was big for me, having Meme’s approval. And John loved hanging out over there, too. He fixed stuff for her around the house and we loved to take Chinese food over on the weekends and play cards.

  “Really? You mean I’ve found my John?” Millie looked happy and relieved.

  “I think maybe you have.”

  “But what about my mom and Gran?”

  “I think they’re going to be thrilled for you, Millie.” I reached across the desk and patted her hand. “They just want you to be happy. You’re not abandoning them. You’ll be living very close to your mom and with Rueben’s crazy work schedule you’ll have plenty of time to keep them company.”

  “You’re right, I will, and my mom actually went out on a date last week. Maybe we’re all moving on. I just hate change. But I do want to be with him. More and more all the time.”

  I could sympathize with her there. It took me forever to decide to marry John. To his credit he waited patiently and it was just another reason why I loved him. “You’re going to be fine. And don’t forget, we’re not going anywhere, so not everything will change. We’ll still be here for you every day. We’ll just be adding Rueben to the group.”

  Millie came around the desk and gave me a hug and then left for the day. I closed my computer, gathered my stuff and left as well. Suddenly I was very excited to see my John.

  Chapter Eighteen

  I love Facebook. There, I said it. One of the things I like about it is that I can keep up with friends who live far away, I’m reminded of birthdays so I can send a greeting, and I get updates on products I like such as Chobani yogurt. I mean really, how would I know they’re releasing two new flavors if not for Facebook? My mother and grandmother also use the service and it’s nice to check in with them a couple times a day to see what they’re up to and that everything is okay. My grandmother even got “unfriended” after the last election when she challenged someone on their views. She was quite proud of being unfriended and really gets a kick out of posting stuff. Go, Meme!

  As soon as I had gotten to work this morning I had checked to see if Ma
ria Kravec had an account and what kind of things she posted on it. If she was saying nasty things on her blog, maybe she also used Facebook to disparage the restaurant and meat industries as well, but I never found an account for Mrs. Kravec.

  And now, as I drove along the turnpike, headed for the window factory where Frank Corliss worked, I turned my attention to my mother’s account. She has become quite the prolific user and this morning her posts were centered on Riley. I was treated to a picture of the dog’s new leash, cage, and soft bedding my parents had evidently installed in the kitchen. My mother even took a picture of a shelf in the pantry that was now devoted to foods and treats for Riley. It didn’t seem like she was looking to find him a good home anytime soon. And truth be told, I was thrilled. We never had a dog growing up so having Riley around was going to be fun. And at least this was one four-legged family member I could actually have contact with. I had no desire to meet Scoops or Scopes or whatever his/her name was. I just hoped Henry wasn’t too disappointed I didn’t share his love of rodents.

  I finally came to the exit I needed for the factory. I had thought about calling and asking to speak with Frank Corliss, but decided it best to catch him off guard, assuming the man had something to be on guard about. So far I hadn’t talked to too many people, a point I planned to remedy today.

  A few minutes later I stood at the front desk and asked for Frank. The receptionist said I could find him out by a grassy, shaded area behind the building. She pointed out the path through a window and I thanked her and made my way around the factory.

  Frank Corliss sat at a picnic table holding a sandwich in one hand and a paperback book in the other.

  “Excuse me. Mr. Corliss?”

  He put the book down and stood up. “Yes. I’m Frank Corliss. Can I help you?”

  Like his wife, Frank had red hair and was thin. But unlike his wife he had very pale blue eyes.

  “I’m Alex Harris. I spoke with your wife yesterday about the vegan blog.”

  “Oh, right. She told me someone came by. What can I do for you?”

  I sat down across from him and noticed that his sandwich was tomato and mozzarella cheese in keeping with what Carol Corliss had told me about them being vegetarian.

  “I was with her when she called to tell you that Maria Kravec was dead. She said you didn’t seem very surprised. Why was that?”

  Frank shrugged. “I don’t remember. I either heard it on the news or the paper. We canceled our subscription but they get a copy here and keep it in the cafeteria.”

  “Did you ever meet Mrs. Kravec?”

  “In person? No. I saw her one morning on one of those local morning shows and of course once we heard about the blog, I checked out her site.”

  “How did you hear about the blog exactly?”

  “One of my wife’s friends told us about it. Of course it didn’t mention us by name but we knew it was us she was talking about. And then almost immediately people stopped coming in. That damn Internet.”

  “Your wife told me it was a misunderstanding about using the non-vegan products. Didn’t you try to contact Mrs. Kravec to set the story straight?” I had wondered about this yesterday. If someone made untrue accusations about my business I would certainly confront them face to face, maybe even get lawyers involved depending on the seriousness of the situation.

  “Of course we tried to contact her. I went to her Web site and sent her a message through that. I gave her my phone number, email address. I explained about the casein and how we had removed the products from our menu and were trying to find alternative suppliers. We never heard from her. But she never wrote anything about us directly after that and we thought it would just die down. But people just stopped coming. Restaurants are funny businesses. Once people think there’s something wrong in your kitchen, they don’t want to eat there anymore. Plus, we specialize and it’s hard getting people to try what amounts to a whole new choice for them.”

  Mr. Corliss took another bite of his sandwich. “Sorry. I only have another twelve minutes before I have to get back.”

  “I also talked to Julie Vang yesterday.”

  “She’s a nut case, that one. Carol and I wanted to start a network of vegetarian and vegan restaurants. Maybe get a blog out there ourselves promoting our restaurants, talk about the benefits of eating healthy. Promote the local farms. You talk up their businesses and they’re more likely to recommend your place when people stop by their stands. We had flyers made and we gave them to all the bed and breakfast places in the area hoping they’d recommend us to their guests. Thought it would be good all around. But she wasn’t interested. Heard she’s turned her place into just one more Chinese restaurant.”

  “Vietnamese.”

  “Whatever.” Frank gave a grunt.

  “You were lucky to get your job back,” I said.

  “Yeah, well, it’s not the job I had for over ten years before. At least I have good benefits but the pay is about half of what I made and the work is hard. Plus we pretty much lost all of our savings. Broke my wife’s heart and I don’t like seeing her hurt.”

  “Were you happy to hear about Mrs. Kravec?”

  Frank Corlis looked at me with those pale eyes. “Happy? Can’t say it matters to me one way or the other. I do think people need to take responsibility for what they say on the Internet. Doesn’t seem fair that one person, who didn’t know anything about us at all, could simply write a blog, cause us all this trouble, and get away with it. Now that she’s dead I would love to sue her estate for damages but then where do I get the money to hire a lawyer? She didn’t seem like a nice person and didn’t even have the decency to respond back. Just ruin someone’s livelihood, break their heart and move on to the next. Nope,” Frank shook his head, “can’t say I mind very much what happened to her. What goes around comes around and it looks like she got what she deserved.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I really couldn’t blame the man for feeling the way he did. Maria Kravec did indeed seem to make accusations without any proof and then wasn’t willing to take another look and write a blog explaining the situation and admit her error. Maybe in the end it wouldn’t have mattered. Restaurants were notorious for going under within a couple of years. It was the nature of the beast and I would imagine a restaurant with such a specific menu would have a hard time attracting new customers. It wasn’t like mom and dad could try something healthy while the kids ordered burgers and fries. Those choices just weren’t available at The Natural World.

  The next person on my list was Nadine Davis. She was Maria Kravec’s assistant and Ellery had written down the address of the small office space Mrs. Kravec had rented for her business. Which was what exactly? So far there was the Web site and the blog. Couldn’t she have done that at home? And why an assistant? Sam and I had waited quite a while before bringing Millie on board.

  Suddenly I was very hungry and as I was near to my parents’ home I decided to stop by and see what they had in their pantry besides dog food. My mother and father still lived in the house Sam and I grew up in. It was certainly more room than they needed, but I liked that they had kept it all these years.

  “Alex, what brings you here in the middle of the day?” my mother asked. She and my dad were seated at the kitchen table eating grilled cheese sandwiches. With bacon. Just what I wanted.

  “Have a seat, dear. I’ll make you a sandwich.” My mom busied herself while I took a look around.

  “Where’s Riley?”

  “Right, here, Auntie.” Henry came into the kitchen with the dog at his heels.

  “Henry. What on earth are you doing here? Why aren’t you in school?”

  “Half day,” my dad said. “Some sort of teacher conference so he’s spending the afternoon with us.”

  Suddenly the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I jumped out of my seat and turned to my mother. “Where’s the, you know, his new friend?”

  “You mean Scopes, Auntie? I can’t bring her here because Riley woul
d snap her neck like this.” Henry made a cracking sound that turned my stomach. How were Sam and I ever going to survive this intrusion into our lives for three years? Maybe the thing wouldn’t live that long.

  “Auntie, she’s really cute,” Henry said as he came to my side and put his arm around my neck while Riley stood by his side. “She likes to crawl up my shirt and nibble my cheek. It feels funny.”

  I was just about to kiss said cheek, but instead I kissed the top of his head. “I’m sure she’s wonderful, Henry, but I’m a bit afraid.”

  “So is my mom,” Henry laughed. “She kisses me good night at the door. She won’t come into my room. My dad has to read to me before I fall asleep.”

  “So, Mom, have you found a new home for Riley?” I asked while my dad rolled his eyes.

  “Despite my best efforts,” Mom began as she placed the sandwich in front me, “no one seems to want him.”

  “Can you imagine,” Dad chimed in. “Not one of those imaginary people she contacted wanted the dog.” My father reached down and rubbed Riley’s head then gave him a piece of crust. My mother wasn’t the only one who was hooked. “Your mother is even talking about starting one of those blog things where she writes about Riley every morning.”

  The mention of the blog brought up Maria Kravec and I spent the next twenty minutes explaining to my parents that I was not getting involved in the investigation into her death. Darn that sister of mine. She just couldn’t keep her mouth shut. As a matter of fact, I assured them, we didn’t even know for sure if a murder had been committed. It still could have just been an unfortunate accident. Highly unlikely, but I didn’t want to worry my parents. At least my sister hadn’t told them I had been “hired” as a private investigator. My mother would have called John on the spot.