Page 23 of So Bleak

Faith and Michael shared another glance, then left the house.

“Well,” Michael said when they closed the door behind them. “At least we have a suspect now.”

CHAPTER TEN

Delaney's restaurant was called A Taste of Versailles. The exterior of the building was clean but faded, and the lawn was ill-maintained. The tint on the windows was peeling visibly, and the door creaked when Faith opened it. This place had seen better days.

Eleven years ago, to be exact. A plaque on the maître's counter proudly announced A Taste of Versailles as a winner of two Michelin stars during that year. Looking around the fading interior with it’s half-empty dining room of disinterested diners, Faith imagined they didn’t hold either of those stars anymore.

The hostess at least made an attempt at civility when she greeted them. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t allow pets inside, not even service animals.”

It was illegal for a business to refuse service animals, but Faith wasn’t here to argue that point. “We need to speak with Marcus Delaney.”

The hostess blinked. “Chef Delaney is busy with service at the moment.”

“At ten in the morning?”

“We have a brunch special.” She gestured around the dining room. “As you can see, we’re very busy at the moment.”

Michael pointed at the bright white FBI logo on his vest. “See this? We don’t care if you’re what you consider busy. Get Marcus Delaney out here now.”

The hostess paled and started to leave, but Faith held up a hand. “One moment. Before you do that, can you tell me if a man named Harold Grimes dined here recently?”

The girl paled another shade, and Faith knew the answer. “Umm… I’d have to check.”

“When was he here?” Faith asked.

The girl hesitated and looked between the two agents.

“We’re here for Marcus Delaney,” Michael reminded her. “Let’s keep it that way.”

The hostess took a deep breath, then said, “Umm… it was last Friday. Marcus threw him out. He… doesn’t take criticism well.”

Faith nodded. “Thank you. You can take us to Chef Delaney now.”

The hostess hesitated again. “I’d better talk to him first. He can be a little aggressive.”

“We can handle it,” Faith assured her. “Lead the way.”

The hostess looked miserable, but she didn’t argue any further. She led the three agents toward a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY and said, “You should wait out…”

Faith and Michael pushed past her without waiting for her to finish. The hostess swore and rushed back ahead of them. “Marcus, I’m sorry! I tried to keep them outside. They wouldn’t listen.”

The kitchen was full of cooks bustling to prepare for the coming dinner rush. They all turned to the agents with annoyance, but by far the most annoyed of the faces came from a young man with the tall hat that indicated his position as the head chef.

“What the hell is this?” the chef asked. “How dare you enter my kitchen?”

Marcus Delaney was a tall, athletic man in his mid-thirties with exquisitely styled dark hair and piercing blue eyes. His clean-shaven face was set in a sour frown, and his brow was furrowed sharply over those eyes.

The hostess lifted her hands apologetically and said, “I’m really sorry. They wouldn’t—”

“I’m Special Agent Faith Bold of the FBI. This is my partner, Special Agent Michael Prince, and my K9 Unit—”

“You brought a dog into my kitchen?”

Faith’s eyes narrowed. “My K9 unit, Turk. We need to ask—”

“Katie, what the hell is a dog doing in my kitchen?”

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