Search No Further by Campbell A. J

Author:Campbell, A. J. [Campbell, A. J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, Mystery
Amazon: B09N9CQ2CC
Goodreads: 181438011
Publisher: Code Grey Publishing
Published: 2021-12-07T08:00:00+00:00

When I enter the restaurant, I’m surprised to see Zach standing at the bar in what looks like a serious conversation with Jared. I walk over to them, startling Zach with a poke in the ribs. They stop dead as if their conversion was one for their ears only. ‘What are you two scheming?’ I ask.

‘That’s for us to know and you to find out,’ Zach says in a teasing tone.

‘Tactical planning for our Tour De France challenge,’ Jared pipes in.

Zach looks at him and winks. ‘That’s right.’

‘You’re lying,’ I say. I glance at my watch. ‘You never stop by at this time of day.’

‘Would I lie to you?’ Zach says, feigning a hurt face and slamming his open hand onto his chest. He picks up a takeaway cup a waitress has plonked in front of him. ‘Catch you both later.’ He kisses me on the cheek and heads for the door.

‘What were you two talking about?’ I turn and ask Jared, but he is already making his way to the kitchen. I follow him, but he detours into the toilets.

I stop to wash my hands, then enter the kitchen, where it’s manic. ‘Spare me half an hour, will you?’ Papa says as I pass through on my way outside for a cigarette. He is sweating like he has a fever. What is wrong with everyone today? ‘I need someone to prep that lot.’

I follow his nod to a mound of onions and tomatoes waiting on the worktop. ‘Not onions, Papa. You know I hate chopping onions.’

He shakes a hanky from his apron pocket, dabbing sweat dripping from his forehead. Nonna’s absence has raised his stress levels to the rafters. ‘I’m so behind this morning.’ He stirs a pot of his garlic-infused Bolognese simmering on the stove. ‘Would you believe it? Paulo has called in sick. On today of all days. Useless. I need to find myself another kitchen porter. It’s all I need. We have Franco and Jenni’s lot coming in for their staff Christmas party tonight. And leave the door open, will you? I’m roasting in here.’

Outside, flakes of snow spatter the table and chairs. One of the reclaimed railway sleepers retaining the borders has broken away. Nonna is always telling the staff not to sit on them. A pile of earth has spilt onto the decking, along with a couple of plants. I pick them up and push them back into place. My hands are shaking, not only from the cold, but also from the conversation I’ve just had with Mamma. I can’t believe what I’ve said to her. Nonna says my people-pleasing behaviour is the only trait of mine she finds annoying. She’d be pretty chuffed with me today.

I light up and take a long drag on my cigarette, thinking how sad and neglected the courtyard looks in the depths of winter. Nonna’s absence has stamped its mark everywhere this week. Nothing is running smoothly. As if someone has put diesel into the engine of De Rosa’s when they should have used unleaded.

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