Running Hot

Rainbow. Me and Wayne, we put off having kids and then found out we couldn’t have any. After we moved here, I guess we just started adopting folks like Jeff and Ray and the others. The customers come here the first time for a meal or a drink. They come back because they feel better when they’re here.”
    Grace smiled. “And they feel better because the proprietors understand them and because the bartender has a special knack for calming them down.”
    Petra blew that off with a slicing motion of her hand. “Luckily we don’t have to deal in empty pop cans a lot. Most of our crowd pays with actual cash. Enough about us. Let’s talk about you. Luther says we’re on the lookout for a female who can whack someone by singing opera.”
    “I think so. Her songs sounded like operatic arias.”
    “I’m into classic rock, myself. Wayne, here, is the one who likes opera.”
    Grace looked at him, trying to conceal her surprise. “You’re a fan?”
    Over at the bar Wayne picked up another glass. “I’m okay with it. Puts me in another place, y’know? Only been to a couple of live performances but I got a lot of CDs. This Siren. She any good?”
    “Well, her singing certainly has a very dramatic effect on her audience,” Grace said. “But her psychic talent aside, I think she is more than good. Fallon Jones believes that she’s a professional hit woman, not a professional singer, but I’m not so sure. It may be the other way around.”
    Wayne pondered that closely while he applied the towel to another glass. “Either way, Luther is right. You shouldn’t be running around on your own until J&J punches her ticket.”
    Grace tried not to be stunned by the casual way he referred to killing the Siren. She cleared her throat.
    “Does J&J actually do things like that?” she asked.
    “Fallon Jones would never admit it,” Petra said. “But yeah, once in a while stuff like that gets done.”
    The wall phone rang. Wayne ignored it. Petra shoved herself out of the booth and took the call.
    “Yeah, Julie,” she said. “Don’t worry about it. Hope he feels better soon. Tell the little guy I said hi. No problem.”
    She tossed the phone back into its cradle and heaved a sigh. “Julie can’t make it in tonight. Probably not tomorrow night, either. Her kid’s sick.”
    “No dishwasher and no waitress,” Wayne said. “Comin’ up on the weekend. Busiest nights of the week. Figures.”
    Petra shook her head. “These are the kind of personnel problems that come with success. We never used to have to worry about someone not showing up for work B.L.”
    “B.L.?” Grace said.
    “Before Luther,” Petra explained. “Who knew success was gonna be such a pain in the ass? We can squeak by without Julie but there’s no way I can cook and keep up with the dishes at the same time when we’ve got a full house.”
    “I can wash dishes,” Grace said.
    Wayne and Petra looked at her as if she had started speaking in tongues.
    “I used to wash dishes for a living,” she explained. “Then I became a butler. You could say I’m a professional.”

TWENTY-NINE
    Luther used a little subtle aura manipulation to coax out the last few stragglers shortly after midnight. He walked into the kitchen and found Grace elbow deep in soapy water. She wore an oversized apron that hung almost to her feet. Her hair was shoved up under a net. Her face glistened from a combination of steam and perspiration. She looked adorable. He wanted to take her into the back room and make love to her on a couple of sacks of potatoes.
    “We’re closed,” he said. “Time to eat.”
    “Almost finished,” she said. “I’m on the last pan.”
    Petra yanked the badly yellowed chef ’s toque off her head, tossed it aside and dried the sweat from her forehead with the back of her arm.
    “Busy night,” she declared. “How’d we do?”
    “Wayne is closing out as we speak,” Luther said. He looked at Grace. “You must be exhausted.”
    “I’m okay.” She finished rinsing a large pot and used both hands to transfer it from the sink to the drain counter. “Just a little out of condition, that’s all. What’s this about eating?”
    “We’re all hungry and usually a little wired after a busy night,” he explained. “We generally go over to Milly Okada’s place for some udon soup.”
    “Sounds good to me,” Grace said. She dried her hands on a towel.
    Luther looked at Petra. “We were swamped out there. How’d you two do in