Read A Dish Best Served Cold: An Italian Kitchen Mystery (Italian Kitchen Mystery, An) for Free Online Page B

rumbling that boded no good.
    My mother’s eyes grew wide. “Was that—?”
    Before I could answer, the air reverberated with another soft
boom.
My mother grabbed my hand. “C’mon. We need to get everybody inside.”
    In a matter of seconds, the sky darkened and the first fat drops of rain splashed around us. We went from table to table to gather our guests, smiling to mask our nervousness as the wind blew harder. As I watched the empty chairs overturning and the linens on the grape arbor flapping like sails, I was seized with a sudden fear. The wind whipped the trees; the creak of branches presaged the first sharp flash of lightning, followed by a thunder crack that set my heart pounding. The statue of Mary seemed to shiver in the wind, but her serene, sorrowful face betrayed no fear.
    Old habits die hard, and as I grabbed chafing dishes and silver, I found myself reciting my own version of the childhood prayer:
Hail Mary, full of grace, please don’t let me be struck by lightning or hit with a branch. Help us get everyone inside safely. Don’t let the restaurant flood. And while you’re at it, make sure the dunes hold.
My little beach cottage would be vulnerable if there were storm surges.
    The men heaved tables and stacked chairs; one of our temporary hires, a guy I didn’t recognize, his hair shaved close to his head, was folding tables at double speed. He carried two under each arm, his forearms straining.
    “They go in the shed,” I called over the wind.
    “Got it,” he said, without looking up. As he passed me, I noticed colorful tattoos on both arms, bright images of animals and leafy vines.
Hmm,
I thought,
bet those sleeves were rolled down and buttoned when he was hired or he wouldn’t have gotten past Nonna.
    I followed Lori, Florence, and Alyssa, each carrying stacks of plates, and helped guide diners through the restaurant doors. After insisting that Nonna wait inside, my parents and brother directed it all calmly. There was an almost festive atmosphere as the guests pitched in, scurrying behind the waitresses and laughing as their napkins sailed in the wind.
    In all the movement, only one figure was still: Cal. He stood under a tree, staring upward, his arms nailed to his sides as the rain fell on his face. In the next flash of lightning I caught a look at his stricken face; even in profile, I could see the fear.
    “Cal!” I yelled over the wind. “Get away from that tree!”
    He shook himself out of his daze and pointed toward the restaurant. “Get inside, okay? I’ll meet you there in a minute,” he called.
    I kept watching as he joined Jason and a few of the other servers in shifting tables into the shed. What had happened to him under that tree? But my brother was at my elbow. “Inside, sis. Now!”
    Once inside, Detective Daniel Rienzi took over, bringing the noisy, confused group to attention with two words. “Excuse me,” he said, and the room quieted. “First of all, thanks for helping us move this party inside, which is the safest place to be right now. We’ll keep you updated on the storm.”
    I was surprised at the number of diners who’d opted to stay and ride out the storm with us. But shore people are used to bad weather, and we don’t like to let it get in the way of our fun. I waved across the room to Iris, where she and Richard Barone were sitting with Gale Spaulding, the town librarian. Anne McCrae was also still with us, shaking hands and chatting as though she owned the place.
    After putting on a pair of flats, I helped Lori get people settled at tables while Flo and Alyssa started the coffee service; in the meantime, my dad went from table to table pouring anisette and amaretto, making sure the conversational buzz wasn’t the only kind in the room. Apparently, however, I wasn’t moving fast enough, because Nonna gave me the evil eye from the corner of the dining room; it was one of the more charming ways she summoned me.
    “Yes, darling Grandmother?” I asked