More Than a Mission - Caridad Pineiro [9]
Unless she’s a very good actress and is stringing you along?
“Thanks,” she replied and pointed with one finger to the back of the restaurant. He noticed then that she wore just clear polish on short, blunt-cut nails. No rings or jewelry of any kind. The hands of someone who used their hands to earn a living. Either chef or assassin.
She continued. “I’ll be in the kitchen. If you need limes, cream or anything else, it’s in the large fridges. Jeremy, the old bartender, would keep some supplies handy in the fridge beneath the bar.”
“Got it,” he replied with a quick salute and his most engaging smile as a way to see if his earlier read had been wrong.
Elizabeth delayed briefly, seemingly unsure of whether to go or stay. Then with a shy wavering smile, she bolted from the bar and to the kitchen.
Aidan waited until he was sure she was gone and not returning, and then went to work.
From a well-worn knapsack he had tucked beneath the bar, he pulled out what looked like four fat sewing needles and slipped them into the back pocket of his jeans. Stepping from behind the bar, he scoped out where he could hide one of them, but still get a clear shot from the fiberoptic cameras built into the ends of the thick needles.
He settled on easing one into the stopper on a commemorative liquor flask sitting on the top shelf behind the bar. The empty flask was obviously kept for decoration and would not be moved often. That camera should give Lucia a clear shot of anyone in the anterior part of the building.
“Are you reading this signal?” he said softly and when Lucia confirmed the view was good, he moved to the other side of the dining room. On an end table tucked into a corner, a candlestick, flower basket and brass lamp in keeping with the restaurant’s traditional-style décor had been placed.
Dark woods and floral wallpaper graced the walls of the room. Landscapes of the Silvershire countryside were scattered here and there, and at one end of the room, a large stone fireplace held logs ready to be lit if the weather called for it. The curtains at the windows were sheer, offering gorgeous views of the gardens and the shore beyond.
The flowers on the end table were fresh and sure to be discarded shortly and while the candle was newer, it, too, would be subject to regular handling and replacement. He settled on working the camera into the top edge of the ivory-colored lampshade, focusing it on the dining area.
Lucia confirmed that the signal was clear, and, satisfied with what he’d done, Aidan paused for a moment to consider how to approach bugging the kitchen. That area was busier than most and usually occupied. Plus, he really had little cause to go in there, except for those supplies Elizabeth had mentioned earlier. Deciding to use that as an excuse to inspect the area, he hurried back to the bar and was thankful that the fridge Elizabeth had mentioned was empty of anything other than an old-fashioned glass bottle of cream.
Quickly striding to the kitchen, he pushed through the door to find Elizabeth and another young woman standing before a table, glumly looking down at something.
“It’s okay, Natalie. It just takes practice,” Elizabeth said, laid a hand on the other woman’s shoulders and gave a comforting pat.
He moved behind them and with his greater height, peered over their shoulders to examine the dish sitting before them. Whatever it had once been, now it was a pile of stuff colored a muddy shade of brown. Blackened edges tenaciously gripped the sides of a white cooking dish. The center had sunk down, creating a network of cracks in the surface that revealed something gooey and unappealing beneath. “What is that?”
With a sniff and a quavery voice, Natalie replied, “My final exam.”
“Oh.”
“It’s a chocolate soufflé,” Elizabeth corrected with a glare over her shoulder and once again patted Natalie’s back in a reassuring gesture. “We’ll work through it together, Nat. By tomorrow, you’ll be an expert and ready for the test.”
Natalie sniffed one last time as she picked