Lizz Lund - Mina Kitchen 02 - Christmas Bizarre (22 page)

It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust
to the daylight, but eventually I saw a small shed, with its door ajar. It was loaded with gasoline cans. Dozens more were piled outside.

“He’s
sailing to Iceland?”

She put her hand to her forehead.
“No, fool! He’s stockpiling fuel a little at a time, sneaky like. You see?”

“But why?”

“Probably to get rid of any evidence.”

“Like?”

“Us.”

“You mean, if he thinks the cops are going to rescue us, he’ll blow up the house?”

“Sky high.”

“Won’t that be a tad
unusual?”

“In this neighborhood?
It’s unusual that this house is standing. It’ll probably be considered a gas leak, until forensics gets through with it.”

“And us.”

“Precisely.”

“So Vito’s getting to us first would be lots
safer?”

“
A silent Towncar versus a three-alarm fire. You pick.”

“I guess this would be bad time to tell you about the fortune cookie I got telling me someone was being held prisoner in Mantoloking
?”

“YOU got the fortune?
What did it say?”

“Help – prisoner 1465 Conch Avenue, Mantoloking, NJ!”

“Well, that’s almost what I told him to say, with the exception of my name. How did
you
get the fortune?”

“Norman took us to lunch at Lucky Palace.”

“Lucky Palace? Oh, the little twit.”

“Huh?”

“Lucky Palace is a franchise, the one down here where the kid works. He probably set the damn thing down in a box of fortunes getting shipped to PA instead of taking by hand to Vito like I told him to.”

“I guess your instructions got lost in the translation.”

Mrs. Phang flapped her arms. “Well, what’s done is done. At least now I know why it’s taken so long.”

The basement door flapped open and Bernie thumped downstairs.
I dove back to the pole and put my hands behind my back.

“
Okay girls, what’ll it be? You’ve got lots of choices but I’m not so sure I’m gonna like any of them.”

“Sure, you will.
It will be fun,” Mrs. Phang walked toward Bernie and his menu. Bernie held up a gun.

“Sorry,
Tina. Nothing personal. Just business.”

Mrs. Phang took a step back.
“I just wanted to see the menu, Bernie. Honest. I’m trying to help you.”

“Sure.
Understood. Here’s the menu, and a pen.” He tossed the menu and a ballpoint on the floor.

Mrs. Phang
picked up the menu, trying to see. I noticed it was trembling in her hands. Bernie hadn’t put the gun down.

“So, let’s see.
It’s Asian Fusion so we have lots of choices.”

“What do they got for appetizers?”

“I guess fried is definitely out for you, right Bernie?”

“You betcha.
Terrible for my cholesterol.”

“How do you feel about sushi?”

“You mean raw fish?”

“Yes.”

He thought a moment. “Does it have any blood?”

“It probably did at one time.”

“Okay. I’ll try it. But I don’t want no wasabi mustard. It ruins my sinuses.”

I banged
the back of my head calmly against the pole.

“And for your entrée?”

“ I’ll try the pepper steak again. And they can cook the peppers. But NO onions. And I want the steak RAW. And no rice.”

“Got it.
Now let’s see, Mina – would you like some dumplings?”

I rolled my eyes.
This was a bizarre last meal. “Sure.”

“Do you like General
Tso’s chicken?”

“Yes.”

“Spicy? Extra spicy? Mild?”

“Spicy.”

“Great. Now, I think I’ll have the vegetable spring rolls, and veggie lo mein.”

Bernie winced.
“What are you, some kind of vegetarian?”

“Actually, I’ve been
one for some time now.”

I raised my eyebrows.
“You don’t say?”

Mrs. Phang nodded.

“I’ve got to look into that. I don’t know that much about vegetarian cooking per se; and almost nothing about vegan recipes.”

“I understand there’s a lot to prep
ping and technique.”

“That’s what I thought.
You see, James is going to have a lot of catering clients for me at the beginning of the year, and…”

“LADIES
, please! Tina, you got your orders?”

“Sorry. Sure, here.”
She handed over the marked-up menu.

“Fine.
I’ll place the call. I already got your credit card, Tina. Thanks a mil.”

Tina
smiled. “Anything for an old friend. Just one thing before you call though, okay?”

Bernie huffed with impatience.
“What?”

“Well, I mean.
I know I gave you the go ahead to use my card.”

“Yeah.”

“And you know it’s okay.”

“Yeah?”

“But the kid taking the order might wonder why a middle-aged white guy is placing a credit card order under the name of Tina Phang.”

“Huh.”

“Besides, you want to make sure you get your meat umm… the right way, this time, right?”

“
Yeah?”

“
So how’s your Vietnamese?”

“Huh?”

Mrs. Phang rubbed her forehead. “Remember, the kid taking your order last time mentioned the owner is Vietnamese?”

“So?”

“Bernie, listen: I speak the language. Like as in, special order?”

Bernie brightened.
“Oh, yeah, right! You got an inside track on the gook thing.”

Mrs. Phang and I winced.

She smiled tightly. “Yes, it’s a special club.”

“Okay, here. But no monkey business this time, you got it?”

“
Enough with the monkeys!”

Bernie dialed and handed the phone over to Mrs. Phang, pointing the gun
at her head. To her credit, she appeared to calmly commence ordering. She smiled and nodded her head a lot, with a lot of uh-huh’s.

“How’s your handcuffs, kid?”

I sat up, wide-eyed. “Okay.”

“You know, if they’
re rubbing you the wrong way, I got some powder upstairs.”

“That’s great.
But I’m fine, thanks.”

“
You sure? Here, let me take a look…”

Mrs. Phang leaped in front of him.
“Here you go, Bernie! Said they’d be here in twenty minutes!” She shoved the menu at him.

“Hey, how’s that for service?
Last time I called it took over an hour.”

“Glad I could help.”

“Sure. Thanks.” Bernie started upstairs. Then, he turned back around.

“And
Tina?”

“Yes?”

“Put the cell phone on the steps, where I can see it, okay?” He held the gun resolutely by his side.

Mrs. Phang’s face
went pale. “Oh, right! Ha, ha, almost forgot.”

“Sure, it’s an easy mistake.
Wouldn’t want to go using up my minutes now, would you?”

“Ha, ha.”

“Ha, ha.”

He took the phone and went back up the stairs, locking the door.

Mrs. Phang fell to her knees, shaking and crying. I sprang up and hugged her.

“You did great!
You’re really brave!”

She shook her head.
“We’ll see.”

“How did they take the part about the raw meat order?”

She wiped her eyes. “Dunno.”

“Huh?
You were on the phone with them for over five minutes. And I saw you give them a credit card number.”

“I asked for a manager right away
. I was afraid a kid would think it was a prank call.”

“Our order would be a prank call?”

“No. Our escape.”

“That was smart!”

“Maybe.”

“What’d the
manager say?”

“He yelled at me for taking up their business line
playing games. I told him to take our order and check my card number with the police.”

“Did he take the order?”

“I think so. Don’t know. I’m not too hopeful.”

“Why?”

“He said he was going to call back to verify it. And that pranking about kidnapping wasn’t funny.”

Upstairs we heard Bernie’s cell phone ring.
“Why, yes, my uh, wife just placed an order with your outfit a few minutes ago. Yeah, she ordered that. Uh, huh. Yep. Great. Thanks.”

The minutes ticked
away. I felt like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz – the wicked Chinese take-out manager had upturned our hour-glass timer. We heard a siren wail and we scrambled toward the chink in the wall to see. Then it faded into the distance. So did our hopes. We were scared. We used the bucket.

“I guess they’ve been treating you okay?”

“Mostly. But mostly it’s been just Bernie and me. Myron and Dexter have only made guest appearances. ” She shivered. “They had me locked upstairs in a bedroom. At least it had a toilet.”

The heat exchange kicked in.
“And you had to have been warmer there.”

“I know.
I should have thought of that. Maybe we should have played for more time.” She rubbed her arms.

“I don’t know.
Not if Myron and Dexter are both coming back tonight.”

“That’s exactly what I’m afraid of.
This isn’t the norm.”

Awhile later w
e heard a car pull up to the house, and footsteps spring up to the front door. The doorbell rang. A chair scraped against the kitchen floor. The front door opened.

“Delivery for
Tina Phang?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Sign here please.”

“Where do I sign for your tip?”

“Tip? Oh,
thank you
! Here!”

Mrs. Phang spewed a deluge of
whispered expletives that I’m sure would choke someone later. Particularly Bernie, since he was over-tipping on her dime.

The front door banged shut and we heard the tumbler lock.
Steps were heard going into the kitchen. A bag rustled. We smelled food.

“Insane bastard’s gonna eat it all.
Raw my ass,” Mrs. Phang whispered.

“Then he’ll get a belly ache.
Then maybe we could sneak away?”

She shot me a look.
I guessed I was a little too Nancy Drew for her Ellery Queen.

The door to the basement opened.
“All right ladies, come and get it.”

I started to get up
when Mrs. Phang shoved me back down, kicking some boxes over on purpose, while she slammed the cuffs back on me.

“Hey, Bernie, love to oblige.
But Mina, you know?”

Bernie ambled down the steps.
“Oh, right. Sorry. Forgot. I’ll give you her food, and you can feed her, after you eat with me, okay?”

Mrs. Phang closed her eyes, and crossed her fingers.
“The atmosphere down here might not be conducive to eating.”

“Huh? Whaddaya mean? If this
anymore of your monkey business…” Bernie lumbered down and stood at the base of the steps. “Phew! It smells like piss down here!”

Mrs. Phang stood with her hands on her hips.
“You know?”

“Geez! I was only kidding about the bucket!”

“Why you not say?”

“A
ll right, all right, don’t go getting all Asian on me.”

“
Do you have a key or don’t you?”

“Of course not.
I wasn’t kidding about Dexter. But I got this.” He opened up a small, sharp instrument from a keychain in his wallet – the kind your grandpa wore.

Bernie leaned over and
picked open my handcuffs.

“This is great! Thanks!” I pretended, rubbing imaginary numb wrists.

“Don’t mention it. And I mean, don’t mention it. We’re gonna eat, you girls take a pit stop, then back down here you go. I don’t wanna piss off the boys.”

Mrs. Phang cleared her throat.

“Yeah, seriously. Let’s get out of here.” Bernie led the way up the steps, standing at the top with his gun trained on us. “Just to make sure there’s no monkey business.”