The Taxman Killeth Read Free Page B

but I had the fresh poached
salmon and it was wonderful.”
    “She didn’t like the beef?”
    Amy shook her head. Todd closed
his menu, resigning himself to stringy meat. Immediately the waiter rushed over
to take their order.
    “I can’t decide.” Todd couldn’t
believe it when Amy asked the waiter what he’d recommend. He was definitely
lean and didn’t look like he ate much. As he listed several dishes, Todd
realized there was an epidemic of phony accents in the place.
    She ordered the sweetbreads
appetizer, but decided to play it safe and stick to her poached salmon. Todd
watched her gawk as he ordered the beef with a small salad. The waiter cleared
his throat and suggested one of the fish dishes instead. Todd felt like
suggesting meat tenderizer but thought it better to placate both staring faces.
    “I’ll have the tuna steak.”
    The waiter judged his choice to
be perfect and slid the leather-bound wine list in front of Todd.
    “Let’s see, we’re both having
fish, so it’ll have to be white.” A red meat man, Todd was an expert on reds. “Do
you like anything in particular, Amy?”
    “They probably don’t have the
discount wines I buy.” She laughed self-consciously.
    He wanted to share his lack of
knowledge. If he did, it would be opening up to a personal relationship in the
midst of this case. Damn, if he wasn’t lucky. Each wine had a picture next to
it. One a chicken, another a cow, hey, and there was a fish. When the waiter
returned he ordered that wine and was again commended upon his choice. Not too
difficult, he thought.
    “I didn’t know that Mr. Pickens
was old enough to retire,” Amy said.
    “He took early retirement so
that he could spend more time on his hobbies. He has quite a collection of
model trains, you know.”
    Joey was the one with the model
trains, but he was sure that Pickens and this woman had nothing in common and
had probably kept most of their conversation to the work they were doing.
    “I wanted a set of trains when I
was a child, but my parents wouldn’t buy it for me. They said it wasn’t
feminine; instead they bought me a new wardrobe for my Barbie Doll every time I
complained.”
    “What a shame. You’d be cute in
an engineer’s cap.” Todd reached over and mussed her copper curls. Soft, he
thought, running his fingers down through a curl that fell against her jawline.
He pulled his hand back when the waiter brought the first course.
    Amy’s sparkling eyes looked up
at the waiter, and Todd heard a quiet giggle before she went on to talk of her
family. She was fifteen years younger than her sister. A mid-life baby, as she
described herself.
    He enjoyed listening to her
speak: the precision of her words and the breathy hint of laughter as she
described her early years. Again, the conversation was halted by the changing
of the plates.
    The tuna looked fine. A steamy
mist rose from Amy’s salmon.
    “Careful, looks hot,” he said.
    Amy grinned and took a small
forkful, allowing a few seconds for the fish to cool before placing it in her
mouth.
    “Mmmm. Scrumptious.”
    Maybe the food wouldn’t be half bad,
he contemplated before cutting into the tuna. After taking a bite, Todd noted a
silkiness about the fish. The center was cool and squishy. He checked his plate
and found that the fish wasn’t cooked in the middle. Before he could call the
waiter, Amy commented on how good the tuna looked.
    “It’s rare in the center.” He
turned the plate to show her the red center.
    “That’s perfect. That’s just the
way seared tuna should be.”
    Perhaps, but he wasn’t above
calling the waiter back to have the fish cooked well-done. Of course, when it
was returned, the entree was tasteless.
    Todd was relieved when Amy was
too full for dessert. Once, when he had been in New Orleans at Antoine’s, he
had felt ridiculous when he had ordered a flaming desert for which they turned
off all the lights. Not able to see their own food in the dark, the other