Hot Stuff by Don Bruns

tonight.” Em sighed, rolling her eyes.
    â€œWe’re all hoping he shows up tomorrow,” I said. At least one of us was.
    â€œSkip, you said the dishwasher had a thing for Amanda.”
    I nodded. “One of the runners mentioned it.”
    â€œRunners?”
    â€œGuy who brings the dishes back from the dining room. I saw the two of them all night long. I actually got a little tired of seeing them. Anyway, this guy Carlos said that he and Juan Castro would go out for drinks sometimes after work and apparently this Castro mentioned that he thought she was attractive. It’s a little thin, but that’s all that I’ve got.”
    Em sipped her drink, sensually licking the salt from the rim of the glass. “Amanda and a dishwasher? I don’t see it.”
    â€œWhat about you?” James smiled. “You do realize that you’re now officially dating a dishwasher, Em.”
    My girlfriend stared at him for a moment, then turned to me. “Maybe Amanda had higher standards than I do.”
    â€œAnd maybe he made his move and she turned him down.” I wanted to drop the dishwasher putdowns. “People have been killed for less.”
    â€œWe’re starting a list?” James took a long swallow and tapped his fingers on the table.
    Em pulled a pen from her bag. “We are.”
    â€œAnd we start with—”
    â€œJuan Castro. Dishwasher. May have wanted a romantic involvement with the victim.”
    â€œIt’s Amanda, Skip. Not just the victim. Not some anonymous girl. Let’s call her by her given name. Okay?”
    â€œNoted.”
    We drained the sour drinks and ordered another round. It was good to be employed and on an expense account, just as long as the kitchen duty was temporary. Very temporary.
    â€œThen we’ve got Joaquin Vanderfield, sous chef. Upset because he was passed over for the head job at the new South Beach restaurant.” James was half done with his second drink, his bandaged hand holding the stem tight. “I think he’s got some serious motive.”
    â€œAnd apparently the staff thinks so, too.”
    James nodded. “Joaquin Vanderfield may have been interested in Amanda. That was sort of an undercurrent in the conversations. He was upset that she got the promotion, partially because he felt he was a much better choice and partially because the two of them may have had an affair. But nobody came right out andsaid that. I got the impression it might have been a one-night thing, but it’s too early to know for sure. Anyway, it was implied.”
    â€œAnybody else?” Em had two lines on her sheet of paper.
    â€œNothing else came up. Tomorrow’s another day.”
    â€œNot much to go on, boys. I was hoping for a little more information.”
    â€œOne thing we failed to mention,” I said. “James had a message when he got back to his locker.”
    â€œOh?”
    â€œAn apron, with a red liquid smeared on it to look like blood and a Wüsthof knife thrust through the cloth.”
    â€œOoohhh. Gross.”
    â€œThe knife appeared to be identical to James’s.”
    James finished the drink. “Somebody broke into the locker and hung the apron on a hook. We’re not sure if they know who I am, or if it was some sort of a warning. If someone thinks I’m a threat to their job or something.”
    Em nodded. “They could think you pose a threat. If they know you’re investigating the murder or, especially, if they think you might be training to take the South Beach job at La Plage.”
    â€œSo it could be either of our two suspects.”
    â€œOnly one thing wrong with that scenario,” I said.
    â€œWhat?” They both said it together.
    â€œNeither of them were at L’Elfe tonight.”
    We left Willie’s and Em drove us back to the restaurant.
    â€œHow about James drives the truck back to your apartment and you and I have another drink