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Authors: Joanne Pence

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BOOK: Cook's Night Out
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If he could somehow keep himself hidden until the last minute, he'd reach Klaw, face him, and—if their struggle came to that—gladly kill him. Kill him for what he'd planned to do to Angie, to all the innocent people here. For Snake Belly, for Jessica…for himself.

He was only minutes away from it, minutes from the
confrontation he and Klaw had been hurtling toward ever since Klaw returned to the city.

Klaw had played him like a fish on a line, purposely baiting him with one incident after the other, watching him twist and fight, trying to break free but, with each new yank on the hook, finding the point deeper and tighter. He'd watched his job, his life, grow more precarious with each day.

He loathed Klaw and wanted nothing but revenge against him. He'd lived with rage against Klaw for twenty years, thinking he'd buried it deep, when all that had happened was that he'd grown a thick skin over it, while inside the rage festered, wanting to erupt.

He darted to a huge Grecian-looking pillar and ducked behind it. From there, he ran to the next pillar. That was when he saw Angie sitting on the ground, holding her foot and rocking in pain. The reverend was staggering toward a Dumpster at the back of the service area, carrying Angie's chocolate angel.
What the hell?

The centerpiece
. A thought struck him.

They couldn't have found the bomb. They wouldn't have tried…but why else would they be here? Why else…

On his left were Angie and Hodge. On his right, Klaw was climbing the hill, every moment closer to the truck, to his escape. He had to stop him! To avenge so many…

Once, Angie had told him he was obsessed with Klaw, that he was too personally involved, too emotional about the man, and that he couldn't see past his need for revenge. He had tried to deny it, but had she been right?

His hatred had swathed him like a heavy mist, coating and blurring everything around him. Suddenly, that mist seemed to shift, then lift. For the first time since
this madness began with the phone number in the dead man's mouth, he saw all that was going on with clear eyes.

 

“Put it down, Reverend,” Angie cried, tears of worry but also admiration filling her eyes. “You're not supposed to be a brave man! Come back here. There's not enough time!”

But Reverend Hodge tottered slowly toward the Dumpster, carrying the big angel alone.

Suddenly a figure sped toward him. Paavo grabbed the angelina from Hodge's hands. Hodge spun around, faced her, and winked.

“No!” she screamed as she took in the full horror of the scene. “Paavo! No! It's too late. Get away from it!”

She hobbled up on one foot, scarcely feeling the pain as she watched in horrified silence. From the corner of her eye she noticed Klaw reach the service lot, racing toward his van.

Paavo eased the angelina into the Dumpster and lifted the heavy lid shut. He doubled over, holding his ribs, his face etched in pain.

“Run, please!” she cried. “Paavo!”

He got up and reeled, swaying, in her direction. “Go on!” he called.

Doing as ordered, she stumbled, hopped, and crawled in her panicky effort to get as far from the bomb as possible.

Paavo would help her. He'd reach her soon and they'd be safe. Her tears fell from the pain and worry, her heart pounding. Where was Paavo? She wasn't moving that fast. Where—

Just then, the bomb exploded.

 

When the roaring sound died down, Angie was lying facedown in the dirt, not even sure how she had gotten there. Her whole body ached and she had the feeling she was not where she'd stood a moment ago. Silence met her. She lifted her head and looked at the debris around her, the burned-out metal from the Dumpster.

Paavo!

She turned quickly, and relief washed over her. Only a couple of feet away, he was struggling to sit up, holding his sore ribs, but otherwise he seemed to be all right.
Thank God
, she whispered.

She glanced over at Klaw.

He lay on the ground, his eyes open, his head twisted at an unnatural angle. Beside him lay the Dumpster's heavy metal lid.

Angie and Paavo sat on a bench
along the walkway that ran to the service area where Axel Klaw had come to his eternal reward.

Blobs of melted and incinerated chocolate, ash, grass stains, mud, and bits of garbage that Angie didn't even want to think about were splattered all over her. One shoe was in her lap, and her face was streaked with mud and chocolate. She had Paavo's jacket over her shoulders and sat huddled in it, trying not to think about the ugly scene that had just played out before her, or the horror that might have been. She shivered.

Paavo sat beside her. He too was sprinkled with chocolate, food remnants, ash, and mud. His hair stood straight up and was a little singed on the ends from the blast, and his face was covered with dirt. He put his arm around her and she laid her head on his shoulder.

Policemen, firemen, and paramedics covered the grounds. A paramedic came by to check on Angie's ankle, but she shooed him away. It was already a little
better, but more important, she didn't want to do anything but sit beside Paavo and enjoy the fact that he was with her and he was safe.

Yosh came by and stood in front of the two of them. “Hey there, Angie,” he said. “Boy, when you throw a party, it's a real blast.”

“Send him home, Paavo,” she said.

“Do you need me down there?” Paavo asked, gesturing to the area where Klaw's body was being examined by someone from the coroner's office.

“Heck, no. You shouldn't be anywhere but in the hospital. You're a mess, partner.”

“Thanks loads.”

“Angie, too.” He studied her. “Say, I see you aren't wearing earrings. Klaw didn't take your jewelry by any chance, did he?”

“He did.” Angie covered her earlobes. She hated going around with the holes showing; it was so tacky. “They were diamonds. A necklace, too.”

“We found them on Klaw. I'll see that they're returned.”

“Good.” Paavo glanced at her with a nod, then back at Yosh. “What else is going on?”

“The coroner says it's the damnedest thing he's ever seen,” Yosh said.

“What is?”

“The explosion. The Dumpster. He said he can't understand how the explosion caused the lid to fly
sideways
and all the way over to where Klaw was standing. He said if it had flown anywhere at all, it should have flown backward.”

Paavo glanced at the dead man and frowned. “Divine justice?”

“Works for me,” Yosh said.

“Whatever caused it,” Angie said, giving Paavo's hand a squeeze, “I'm glad it happened.” Despite being
bruised and battered, he looked at peace for the first time in weeks.

“I'll go see if Sergeant Meade needs any more help.” Yosh scanned the area as he spoke. “We found Warren inside and arrested him. Also found Snake Belly's body. If you see the reverend, let me know. No one has any idea where he is.”

“Sure,” Paavo said.

Yosh wandered away.

“How could the reverend have gotten away so fast?” Angie asked. “I thought he was lying on the ground right after the bomb blast. Wasn't he?”

“I thought so, too,” Paavo said. “But when I looked up, he had gone. There was something on the ground. I guess he dropped it.”

He reached into his coat pocket, the coat she had around her shoulders. From it he pulled the very old angel she had seen in Hodge's office. The one given to him by the holy man in Galilee.

Reverently, she took the angel. Memories of some of the talks in Hodge's office came back to her, especially his advice about her future with Paavo, about patience and believing in oneself—advice she hoped to follow. As she held the ancient carving in her hand, its paint worn and rubbed away in part, she remembered the strange wink he'd given her—the wink after Paavo had put aside his need for revenge and helped them instead. By doing that, Paavo had been spared an encounter with Klaw.

Yet Klaw was dead.

The lid had flown off the Dumpster sideways.

Could the reverend…? Naw
.

Hodge was just a con man. Wasn't he?

“We'll find Hodge,” Paavo said, “and get back the goods and money he took from the mission.”

She looked up at him and realized that if he and
Klaw had fought, even if Paavo had won, his life would have been changed forever. And if he'd lost…The thought made her blood cold. “Klaw took the reverend's key to a locker at the airport,” she said softly. “I'm sure Reverend Hodge put everything there for no reason other than to keep it safe. I imagine the other volunteers would tell you that as well.”

His gaze captured hers and held it a long moment. “Is that how all of you feel about the reverend?”

“He helped everyone, Paavo. And carrying the bomb toward the Dumpster…that was very brave.”

“It was.”

“He was a help to many of us,” she said softly.

“True. He inspired you to come up with a terrific angelina,” Paavo said. “I heard people talking about it. You'll be able to get your business up and running in no time.”

She shook her head. “Forget it.”

“What?”

“This is the second time in a week I've been covered with chocolate. I never want to see the wretched stuff again as long as I live.”

“You've changed your mind about becoming a chocolatier?”

“Fat-free is the new craze. Maybe I need to think along those lines.” She looked at her ruined clothes, the chocolate and mud all over her. “It couldn't be any worse to deal with.”

Paavo lifted a glob of chocolate off his sleeve and shook it off his fingers onto the ground. “That's for sure.”

She smiled. “Look at us. The chocolate couple.”

“It gives a whole new meaning to the line ‘You are what you eat,'” he said.

She laughed. “We could be escapees from an Easter basket…or maybe a wedding cake.”

Silence.

She chuckled at his sudden awkwardness.

He cleared his throat. “Time to get that ankle some attention,” he said, taking her shoe from her lap and helping her up. She wrapped her arm around him, taking care not to hurt his ribs, just as he tried to give her enough support to walk. “Let's go home, Cinderella.”

She held Hodge's angel out to him. “I want you to take this, Paavo. It's very old and very special. Keep it as a reminder of Reverend Hodge, of whoever or whatever he was, and of the divine justice that helped end this horrible episode in your life. He'll always be dear to me for that.”

As he took the angel his eye caught the bottom of the carving and the words that were written there. He looked at the glow in her eyes, the wonder on her face, and quickly put the angel in his pocket.

“If that's what you believe, Angie, then nothing else matters.”

She lifted her chin and smiled up at him. “I do.”

Supporting each other, they hobbled toward his car. As they went, his lips curved ever so slightly upward with secret knowledge of the words on the underside of the angel. A secret he'd never reveal.

MADE IN TAIWAN
.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

My sincere thanks for technical assistance to Sgt. Michael J. Seligsohn of the San Francisco Community College District Police Department, gaming expert witness John Campbell, and attorney Frank Snyder; to Kate Moore for information on chocolate making; and to Ed Moose for one of North Beach's finest restaurants.

My apologies for any errors, omissions, or license taken with the facts for purposes of the story.

JOANNE PENCE
was born and raised in San Francisco. A graduate of U.C. Berkeley with a master's degree in journalism, Joanne has taught school in Japan, written for magazines, and worked for the federal government. She now lives in Idaho with her family, which includes a multitude of pets.

For information about Joanne, her books, and some great recipes, visit Joanne's website at
www.joannepence.com.
She would love to hear from you via e-mail at [email protected], or by writing to PO Box 64, Eagle, ID 83616-0064.

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Praise
for JOANNE PENCE's
ANGIE AMALFI MYSTERIES

“Joanne Pence provides laughter, love,
and cold chills.”

Carolyn Hart

“If you love books by Diane Mott Davidson
or Denise Dietz, you will love this series.
It's as refreshing as lemon sherbet
and just as delicious.”

Under the Covers

“A rollicking good time…
murder, mayhem, food, and fashion…
Joanne Pence serves it all up.”

Butler County Post

“A winner…
Angie is a character unlike any
other found in the genre.”

Santa Rosa Press Democrat

“[A] great series…
[Pence] titillates the senses,
provides a satisfying read.”

Crescent Blues Reviews

“Joanne Pence just gets
better and better.”

Mystery News

Other Angie Amalfi Mysteries by
Joanne Pence

Red Hot Murder

Courting Disaster

Two Cooks A-Killing

If Cooks Could Kill

Bell, Cook, and Candle

To Catch a Cook

A Cook in Time

Cooks Overboard

Cooking Most Deadly

Cooking Up Trouble

Too Many Cooks

Something's Cooking

BOOK: Cook's Night Out
4.61Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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