The Chef - James Patterson Page 0,18

door.

“We’re closed!” Marlene yells.

The knocking doesn’t give up.

Marlene reaches up, takes down her phone, her thumb over the keypad to dial 911 if need be.

I guess I could stay here until the knocking goes away, but suppose it doesn’t? And what if it’s not a couple of drunk bachelorettes looking to score some angel wings pastries before stumbling off to bed?

I go to the door, picking up one of my large, sharp Korin Gyutou knives along the way. At home I have a backup piece, a 9mm Smith & Wesson M&P, and that pistol should be here where it could do some good, not home, gathering dust.

I grab the handle, give it a turn, and shove the door open.

Chapter 15

AND NEARLY hit Vanessa McKeon straight in her gorgeous, flawless face.

She laughs and skips back, and says, “Boy, when you say you’re closed, you really mean it!”

I feel foolish holding the knife and hide it behind my tired butt, but in truth, after all the work tonight and the disappointment of not seeing friends in line and the unsettling view of the three gangbangers making a threat, it’s a sweet treat seeing Vanessa standing there before me. From the soft glow of a nearby streetlamp, her blond hair and light-pink floral-print dress look almost radiant.

I’m not as tired anymore.

I turn and Marlene makes a teasing kiss-kiss face, and then she shoves her phone back in her pocket, starts wiping down the near counter again.

“Of all the po’boy joints in all the towns in all the world, you walk up to mine,” I say with a grin, stepping back for a second to put the Korin Gyutou down, then stepping out of the truck. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was hoping for some culinary pleasure,” she replies, smiling. “I had to work through our staff meal at the restaurant earlier tonight, and I didn’t feel like sticking around and eating leftovers. So I thought I’d swing by Killer Chef for one of your legendary sandwiches. But I see you’re closed. Maybe another time.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I say. “That time is now.”

“Are you sure? Really?”

Biting her bottom lip, Vanessa excitedly scans the chalkboard menu hanging on the front of the truck. She looks so cute doing it, I hate to stop her.

“That list won’t help you much,” I say. “We ran out of just about everything on it. But if you tell me what you’re in the mood for…”

“Hmm,” she says, nodding. “In that case, I’ll make it a chef’s choice. Rumor is, he’s pretty talented.” Another sweet smile my way. “But I don’t believe everything I hear. Just what I taste.”

With an idea already taking shape in my mind, I hop back into the rear of the truck. I drop a pat of butter into a frying pan and fire up the freshly cleaned stove.

Marlene exhales loudly and puts her hands on her hips.

“Seriously, Caleb?” she says. “After we just finished scrubbing this whole place down?”

“Relax. I’ll re-scrub it,” I say, moving the frying pan around in smooth circles so the butter will evenly spread. “It’ll be spotless before we reopen tomorrow, I promise. Cut me a little slack, would you? And cut me some onions and green peppers, too.”

From the fridge I remove a catfish filet and lay it into the sizzling pan. I sprinkle it with salt and pepper, then baste it with an improvised glaze of honey, cayenne, and cardamom. Once the fish has been blackened on both sides, I set the steaming filet onto a toasted baguette, dress it with some sautéed peppers and onions, and top it off with a few strategically placed dabs of horseradish. Along the way Marlene is muttering under her breath about having to work late, messing up the truck after it’s been cleaned, and doing all this to help her dumb ex-husband get laid.

I ignore her with a grin and focus on the food, and I wrap the whole thing in wax paper and step outside to serve it personally to tonight’s guest of honor.

“It smells incredible,” Vanessa says, gently breathing in the fresh scent while holding the sandwich in her petite hands. “Can you tell me about it?”

“Well, I’d say it’s a very interesting creation. It’s sweet on the outside. And very appealing. But it’s sharp, too. A little spicy. Surprising. And very tempting.”

Vanessa gives me a look. Then takes a big bite—and lets out a little moan.

“Mmmm. I didn’t know it before now, but this is exactly what