Secrets in the Cellar Page 2

  She gave the little bowl a quick rinse in the sink before filling it up and carefully carrying it over to the bathroom. “Watch out, kitty!” she called out as she pushed the door open. The little cat was still on the bathmat, lounging on it’s side, in the exact same place where she’d left it.

  “Do you want some water?” she asked it, setting the bowl down on the floor. The cat looked at it, but didn’t make a move. “Are you hungry, then?” she asked. “Don’t worry, Ally will be here soon,” she told it, using two fingers to pat the cat awkwardly on the top of its head.

  They sat there, staring at each other, until Lucy heard the front door of the apartment creak open. “Ally?” she called out. “We’re in the bathroom.”

  The bathroom door opened behind them as Ally entered the small room.

  “Why are you both in here?” Ally asked. “Were you two just having a staring contest?”

  “Well, I don’t want it in the rest of my apartment! It has so much hair—and probably fleas too!” Lucy replied indignantly. “It can stay in here until I find someone who wants it. This bathroom is very comfortable,” she added jokingly, gesturing to the tiny room. Even sitting on the floor as they were, the room barely fit both women and the tiny cat.

  Ally reached out to pet the cat, running her hand down its back. She put down a small plate from the restaurant with a little bit of leftover salmon from the night before on it. The cat eagerly sat up and started eating the fish.

  Both women sat, watching the cat eat. “So, have you heard anything about the Outstanding Young Chef award? Lucy asked casually.

  “No, nothing,” Ally replied. “I did do some research, though. Apparently a bunch of chefs who’ve won have gone on to be famous,” she said, looking at the ground while she absentmindedly played with the hem of her white coat.

  “What, like on TV?” Lucy asked her friend.

  “No, like really famous. Winning fancier awards, writing cookbooks, teaching at places like the Culinary Institute of America, things like that,” Ally said. “I don’t know, sometimes I think something like that would be pretty cool,” she continued, shrugging.

  “You’d leave us behind for all that?” Lucy joked, trying to hide the tinge of disappointment in her voice. She’d hired Ally after a long string of chefs that hadn’t worked out, and had been excited to have someone who seemed to be on board for the long haul. Ally had certainly been talking like she planned on sticking around, the two of them were making all sorts of plans for the next few years.

  “I’ll have to at some point,” Ally protested, finally looking up to meet Lucy’s eyes. “Do you still want to be working long hours like this, spending so much time on your feet, not having any personal life, when you’re fifty?” she asked.

  “That’s my plan,” Lucy replied. “My grandparents and my parents both did it, why not me?” she asked rhetorically.

  “Well, I want something more than that someday. And I’m going to grab every chance I can to get there,” Ally said, looking directly at her friend.

  They both drifted awkwardly into silence, watching as the kitten finished its salmon and took a long drink of water. “What now?” Lucy asked.

  “Well,” said Ally, “it’s going to have to go to the bathroom eventually. You probably want to prepare for that.”

  “Oh,” replied Lucy, hesitantly. “How do I do that?” she asked, afraid of what the answer might be.

  “Well, it’s a stray, so definitely not litter-box trained. Not that you have a box, anyway,” Ally said. “Honestly, I would just get some newspaper and put it on the floor. That way you can just replace it as needed. It looks like it’s a boy, so you probably want to just cover the whole floor. They’re usually a little messier,” Ally continued.

  “How do you know all this?” Lucy asked.

  “How do I know how to hold a cat, and what to feed it?” Ally laughed. “It’s not hard. I mean, my family always had cats when I was growing up.”

  “Do you want this one?” Lucy asked her friend hopefully. “Or maybe your parents want it?” she added.

  “Ha!” Ally chortled. “Of course not. Not only am I not allowed to have pets, my apartment is so small I would probably step on it. And my parents vowed that after the kids were out of the house, they were done with pets. This one’s all you, Luce.”

  “No way am I keeping this thing. I’ll find someone who wants it,” Lucy said confidently, using her two fingers again to pat the kitten on the top of his head. He leaned into her hand, seeming to appreciate the affection, however tentatively it was given.

  “Sure, definitely,” Ally replied skeptically. “In the meantime, though, you should head down to the corner store and get some newspaper so this poor baby can go to the bathroom,” Ally said, standing up and reopening the bathroom door. She stepped out of the bathroom and stretched, her back letting out a loud crack. “Ugh. I am way too old to be spending time sitting on the floor,” she groaned.

  “Well then come on!” Lucy urged her friend. “A walk will shake things out,” she added hopefully.

  “No, I have to get back to the kitchen,” Ally said quickly. “I have the ovens preheating. Just head down to Rafael’s place and get a few copies of today's newspaper. Cover the whole floor with it,” she instructed, leaving the small apartment and heading down the stairs before Lucy could even reply.

  “Well, kitty, I guess we’re on our own,” Lucy told the tiny kitten, staring back at her through the cracked bathroom door. “I’ll be back soon,” she promised it before closing the door.

  Chapter 3

  “Lucy, is it true?” one of the cooks, Chris, called out as he saw Lucy walking past his station, where he was slicing vegetables. It was evening now— Lucy had spent the day kitten-proofing the bathroom of her apartment after Ally had returned to the restaurant.

  “Is what true?” Lucy asked.

  “Do you really have a cat now?” he asked, smiling.

  “No, I do not!” Lucy cried indignantly. “I am temporarily housing a kitten while I find someone who can take it. Do you want it?” she offered.

  “No way! My wife would kill me,” Chris said with a laugh. “How old is it?” he asked curiously.

  “Actually, I have no idea,” Lucy replied. “It’s pretty small, so it must be young. It’s super hungry though—it ate half of a salmon steak,” she told him.

  “Damn, that cat eats better than I do,” Chris commented, laughing.

  “Isn’t that the truth!” Lucy replied, moving past his station to head out into the dining room. One of the servers, Mary, was having trouble with the computer that sent orders from the front of the house to the back. Somehow, Lucy had gained a reputation as the one who knew how to fix it—really, she was the only one patient enough to coax it back to life.

  She emerged into the dining room and turned into the small wait station. Mary was there, fiddling with the screen, her pale face practically glowing in the green-tinged light from the screen. “Thanks, Lucy,” she said, stepping aside. “It’s frozen again.”

  “Oh, great.” Lucy groaned. “Okay, I’ll get to work on it. Make sure all the servers are telling Ally their orders. Don’t let any tables fall behind while I get this fixed,” she directed. Mary had stepped into the unofficial ‘head server’ role that Donovan Fagan had left behind when he was killed earlier in the year.

  “I’m on it. Good luck,” Mary added as she left Lucy alone in the tiny wait station. It was at the back of the dining room, located right next to the bar with a wall between them. It was where the computer for placing orders was, as well as the extra place settings, salt and pepper shakers, anything the servers might need to keep things running smoothly and make sure everyone had a good experience.

  “Alright, it’s just me and you now, old friend,” Lucy muttered to the computer, feeling like she was preparing for battle.

  She started with all the usual tricks—hitting the small reset button on the back, hitting the larger power button next to it. Lucy d
id her best to stifle a groan of frustration - nothing seemed to work. The machine's screen saver, a maniacal-looking cartoon crab, was just staring back at her, bouncing from corner to corner on the screen. “Alright, fine,” Lucy said to the machine as she got down on her hands and knees. Unplugging the computer meant crawling under the cabinet it was stored on—a prospect Lucy never relished.

  Squeezing up against the cabinet, her arm stretched as far as it would go, Lucy could just barely reach the plug. “Ha!” she whispered triumphantly as she tugged it out of the wall and waited. It made a satisfying clunk as the hefty plug hit the wooden floor. The next part, plugging it back in without the benefit of a line of sight, was always trickier. After a moment, she started feeling around, trying to get the plug back in.

  It always takes a minute, she thought to herself. Finally, the plug caught on one of the holes in the outlet and slid back into the wall. She extricated herself from under the cabinet and stood back up, smoothing down the aqua-colored blouse she was wearing. Hope nobody saw any of that, she thought, exhaling forcefully to clear the dust out of her nose. She turned around, back towards the dining room, only to notice a little boy, maybe five or six, watching her intently. He was seated with several adults at the table nearest to the wait station, and they were all ignoring him completely. When he saw that she had turned around, the bored expression on his face started to transform into a smile.

  While she waited for the computer to reboot, Lucy made her way over to the table. “Hi, folks,” she greeted them, pasting a big smile on her face. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to check and see how everything is tonight. Are you enjoying the food?” she asked.

  “Yes, we most certainly are!” the tall man seated next to the boy answered for the group.

  “Can I get you anything else? Another bottle of wine?” Lucy offered, gesturing to the nearly empty bottle of house red sitting in the center of their table.

  The man looked around the table, collecting nods from the group, and then replied, “Sure, why not?” with a laugh.

  “Of course, sir,” Lucy replied before directing her attention to the little boy. “And how about you, young man?” she asked. “I happen to have some crayons and a few coloring pages—would you like me to bring some over while you wait for your food?”

  His small smile grew larger. “Yes!” he answered excitedly, bouncing up and down in his chair.

  “Robert, what do you say?” the tall man prodded him with a smile, stilling the boy by laying a hand on his shoulder.

  “Thank you, ma’am!” Robert replied politely, his grin betraying his excitement.

  “My pleasure!” Lucy told him, returning his smile as she moved away to collect the wine from the bar and the crayons from the host stand.

  She encountered Mary near the front door of the restaurant, where she had been chatting with the host, and handed the items over. “Mary, would you mind dropping these off at table ten, with the little boy?” Lucy asked. “I don’t have a wine key, so I need you to open the bottle.”

  “No problem,” Mary said, taking the items. “That boy is a sweetheart, isn’t he?” she commented. “He was so polite when he ordered,” she added with a smile. “Is the computer all set?” she asked, changing subjects.

  “It’s restarting now,” Lucy told her. “It should be all set, though. Usually it just needs to be unplugged and plugged back in,” she explained.

  “Awesome. Thanks, boss. I’ll try that next time!” Mary said gratefully before turning and heading deeper into the dining room.

  Lucy stood by the host stand for a moment, making small talk with Alex, the host. He was a college student in his second year, born and raised in Iowa before coming to Boston. He was a sweet kid, and Lucy always enjoyed talking to him.

  “Lucy, do you think there’s any chance of me getting next Saturday off?” he asked hopefully. “I have plans. Well, I hope I’ll have plans,” he said sheepishly.

  “Of course, Alex, no problem,” Lucy said, smiling. “Just write it down for me and leave it on my desk. Are you doing anything fun?” she asked.

  “Well, there’s this girl in my applied psychology class,” Alex replied, blushing. “I’d really like to take her out to dinner.”

  “Say no more,” Lucy replied. “I’ll make sure it’s taken care of,” she added with a smile.

  “Thanks, Lucy,” he said, his tone relieved. “I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem—I’m looking forward to hearing all about it!” she teased him. With that, she stepped away, heading back towards the kitchen office, where her paperwork was waiting. It seemed like it never ended, when all she really wanted to do this time of night was head upstairs and have a glass of wine on her own couch.

  Oh well, she thought to herself. Someone has to make sure things are taken care of around here!

  Lucy headed through the swinging door, almost bumping into Ally, who was coming from the other direction. “Sorry, Al,” she said with a tight smile. Things had been a little awkward between the two of them since their heart-to-heart over the kitten that morning.

  Ally didn’t respond, continuing towards the dining room.

  “What, now that you’re a hotshot award winner, you don’t say ‘excuse me’?” Lucy burst out without thinking.

  “What did you say?” Ally shot back, turning around. “I couldn’t hear you. Say that again,” she challenged, coming back towards Lucy.

  “You know kitchen rules as well as anyone, Ally!” exclaimed Lucy. “Behind, coming through, knife, excuse me,” she said, stressing the last one. “You have to communicate. Otherwise, people get hurt,” she continued, trying to find a way to de-escalate the situation.

  “You’re right, I do know the rules,” Ally declared. “And the rules say I can do anything I want. I don’t have to keep working here. I can leave if I want to,” she declared, anger coloring her cheeks. With that, she turned back towards the dining room.

  “Ally, come on,” Lucy said pleadingly. “You don’t have to go anywhere,” she said, changing her tone and trying to make peace. “I’m sorry,” she called after her friend.

  Ally kept walking. “I’m not an award winner, not yet!” she called over her shoulder, ignoring Lucy’s apology. “But once I am, who knows where that will take me?” she declared as she moved through the swinging door.

  Chapter 4

  The next morning, Lucy wrinkled her nose as she held the garbage bag out far in front of her, carefully keeping her balance as she descended the stairs from the apartment. Since she spent so little time in the apartment, taking out the trash was rarely a priority. But now, with the kitten’s fragrant additions to her garbage can, it was suddenly becoming a lot more important.

  “Hey, Lucy!” a voice called out from below. Lucy grimaced as she reached the bottom of the stairs and spotted her neighbor, Lucas Ricci. He owned the restaurant next door, Bella Luna. He was in the middle of renovating the restaurant, and often stopped by to ask permission for a dumpster or truck to occupy the alley for a few days. They had never gotten along as children, but their working relationship had been steady since both took over their family-owned restaurants.

  “Hey, Lucas! How’s the project going?” Lucy asked. Her feelings about Lucas aside, she was excited to see what Bella Luna would look like after all the work. The two restaurants had started out nearly identical, sharing a building as they did. It would be good for customers to see a difference between the two.

  “It’s going really well, actually. Really, really well. We actually found a safe in the basement yesterday—it had been bricked over. It was installed when my grandfather bought the building and converted it into the restaurants,” Lucas replied. “And then somewhere along the way, maybe a few years later when my Grandpa finished the basement, it was covered up,” he added.

  “That’s great,” Lucy replied distractedly as she moved to the dumpster and dropped the bag inside. She brushed her hands off as she turned back around to face Lucas.


  “The construction team offered to drill the safe open,” Lucas continued. “Inside, I found the blueprint from when it was originally converted from a warehouse into the restaurants, back in 1938. My grandfather, Marco Ricci, is listed as the owner for both restaurants,” Lucas responded, greedily rubbing his hands together.

  Lucy took a step back, crossing her arms. “Well, then that must have been from before Nonno bought Alba,” Lucy responded slowly, trying to figure out what direction Lucas was heading in. “If it was before Nonno bought the place, it makes perfect sense for Marco to be listed as the owner for both,” she said again.

  “You’re right,” Lucas admitted, waving a hand. “But the thing is, regardless of when Alba opened, I found paperwork that shows that Angelo Moretti stopped paying rent in 1941. His last payment was the same month that my grandfather was murdered,” he said, taking a step closer to Lucy. “And Angelo never paid rent again. I’m thinking he took advantage of my grandmother and used the opportunity to stop paying rent. What I’m saying here, Lucy,” Lucas continued, a menacing grin spreading over his handsome face, “is that I have proof that my family owns the entire building. Angelo Moretti never actually purchased it, and he certainly missed a lot of rent payments. We own both Bella Luna and Alba,” he said firmly, one hand clenching into a fist.

  “What? That can’t possibly be right,” Lucy declared defensively, ignoring the feeling of dread coming over her. “My grandfather owned our restaurant, and then my father, and now I do,” she continued definitively. “I’d like to show my lawyer anything you have that says otherwise,” she bluffed. Do I even know any lawyers? Lucy wondered silently.