Turn up the Heat

Gavin happy. That’s probably true enough.”
    Finally! I had something!
    “Thank you. I'm going to talk to Snacker now.”
    “But you promise? You won’t throw me under the bus, right?”
    I promised her that I wouldn’t say anything about Blythe. Again, it was funny to hear Isabelle use the language of the kitchen. Restaurant people always seemed to be talking about being “thrown under the bus” to refer to backstabbing, a phenomenon all too common in the restaurant world. Since knives suitable for stabbing were all over the place in kitchens, whereas buses were, of course, absent, I’d never understood the preference. Anyway, Isabelle now spoke like an insider. I silently wished her luck.
    Snacker had hung up the phone. I grabbed him before he could evade me by burying himself in kitchen preparations. “Snacker? Please?” I did my best to look pitiful. “I swear, if you give me a quote, I’ll leave you alone!”
    “Chloe, I just don’t have anything to say.”
    “You could choose to remember something positive about Leandra, like she was...” I said, filled with the spirit of California’s registry of motor vehicles.
    “She was hot. Will that do?” Snacker shrugged. “I have to run. Good luck.”
    At least the comment was positive. It was also easy to translate: Leandra was a beautiful woman with much to offer the world.
    I found Kevin the bartender up front removing bottles from a cardboard box and affixing those funny little pouring spouts to the top. “Hi, Kevin.”
    He looked up from his work. “Hey, Chloe. How are you doing today?”
    Kevin’s sideburns were even more pointy than usual. It always amused me to see men experiment with their facial hair. But I refused to be distracted from my cause, even when I noticed Kevin’s tight black Simmer T-shirt clinging to his muscular body as he lifted another box up onto the counter. “Did you get the form I had Wade pass out? I’m trying to gather some happy memories of Leandra for the memorial on Monday.”
    “I did get it. I just haven’t had a chance to write anything,” he said apologetically.
    Sensing that Kevin might be the lone soul who’d give me a good recollection or remark, I offered to do the writing for him.
    He said, “Leandra and I worked together before at another restaurant, and she was a great waitress and a nice person. I’ll probably miss having her around.”
    I wrote: “I worked with Leandra for years and found her to be highly skilled at her job. She was an exceedingly compassionate and warm person whose presence will be greatly missed. ”
    “That’s great. Thanks, Kevin.”
    “No problem.”
    I came close to telling him that it had been a gigantic problem for almost everyone else.

TWELVE

    BACK at home, I settled in at the computer to see whether I could find some of the items stolen from Simmer on eBay. Although I’d bought a few things from the online auction service, I was by no means an expert eBay shopper, and I’d never sold anything there at all. When I opened the cheery, welcoming home page, with its primary colors and its wealth of shopping categories, I immediately remembered that I loved everything about eBay. As much as I wanted to browse through antique linens, DVD collections, and discount designer clothing, I reminded myself that my purpose was to search for the stolen goods. Well, I did take the time to log in. On eBay, you never know what you’ll come across, and if I happened to stumble on something irresistible, I’d better be all set to bid, right? I entered my online ID and password. The first time I’d gone on eBay, I’d had no idea what to expect and was beyond intimidated by the entire process of setting up an account, bidding, and figuring out how to pay. It turned out to be very simple: just like regular online shopping except cheaper. Well, usually cheaper. A few sellers set unreasonable starting bids or charged outrageous shipping fees, but there were plenty of good deals, too.
    Individuals or companies listed items for auction, and people like me entered our highest bids, the most we were willing to pay. There were pictures of almost all items, together with descriptions and, sometimes, a disclaimer about the item’s condition and a statement about flaws. Almost any search terms produced results because nearly everything imaginable was on eBay: half-used bottles of shampoo, brand-new ovens, antique bird feeders, sterling silver flat-ware, women’s dress shoes scuffed