Detective from Hell

I was hiding again in the pantry for the third time that day. If mum called me again to ask where I

put the soy sauce, I would curl into a ball and disappear. Things were easier before, when dad was

still in charge. The restaurant scene was his shmuck anyway, but then he got sick and now we

were failing. Woefully.

My watch flashed, signaling the end of my five-minute hiatus. That was how long I could stay in

there without getting bothered. To prove my point, the door handle twisted above my head. When

the door did not budge, a voice called out.

"Ehh... Mae, is that you? I need to get some flour, we've run out."

I sighed, rose from the floor, and unlocked the door. Lisa's round face came into view. She

smiled kindly at me, before hurrying into the pantry. As I walked back to the kitchen, the sound of

clanging pots and knives on chop boards grew louder. My mum was yelling at José in Italian

again.

I was glad I only had to wait tables; a day in the kitchen with my mother would kill me.

With efficiency honed from working years in the restaurant, I set to work. My smile looked

natural as I waltzed through the room taking orders, returning meals and clearing tables.

My job wasn't a total bore. Gauging the customers through their outfits was the highlight of my

day. I could tell which customer would be trouble from the way they dressed. I had learnt to be

careful around women who wore their shades while in the restaurant. With men, it was harder to

tell.

The door chimed open for the thousandth time and a man walked in looking grim. My eyes

skimmed over him. Crisp suit, mouth pressed in a line and a I-mean-business expression. He

would be one of the easy ones.

Something about him made me nervous, and I wondered if I had attended to him before. Instead

of taking a seat at one of the empty tables, he made a beeline for me, the server closest to the

entrance. Oh, he was one of those ones, the snotty people who thought they could come in and

have everyone moving to their own beat.

"Good afternoon." He started.

"Good day sir, if you would just be seated, someone will be with you shortly." I responded, my

smile still strong.

"I'm actually here on business. It's about this property and I'd like to see the owner. It is very

important that I meet with him today." my curiosity was piqued.

"I'm his daughter, my mother is running things for a while now since his health got worse, she'll

be happy to talk to you if it's important." He paused for a bit, and then nodded.

"That'll be fine."

I led him to dad's small office ignoring the look Miles gave me when he saw us, and then I left to

fetch my mum from the kitchen. She looked just as puzzled as I was when I told her about our

guest. Discarding the apron, she followed me to the office. The strange man had already pulled

out a file from his case, which now sat lonely on the desk.

Mum greeted him and sat in dad's ginormous leather seat. It smelt of several spices and dad's

cologne.

"I am Samuel Mikhalov and I'm a representative of the late Mr. McCauley" He began. McCauley

had been the proprietor of half the buildings seaside in Arroyo Grande. His recent death had

worried everyone that was under his care. "As you know, McCauley has no Family here, but he

has a half brother who currently resides in Scotland, being the only living relative of McCauley,

his properties were automatically transferred to his name." he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Owen has no interest in keeping the property and has sold" -my heart