Chapter 10 - The Chef’s Broken Hands and the Scent of Bitter Almond in the Sauce
Suddenly, a muffled groan echoed from inside the dry pastry alcove ten feet from where they stood.
Ethan moved forward, parting a plastic butcher curtain.
Tied to a stainless-steel prep table with industrial zip-ties was Chef Antoine Vance. His chef’s whites were torn, his face bruised, and his right hand was swollen and dislocated where Pike had brutally struck him with a heavy torque wrench.
"Antoine!" Detective Vance hissed, rushing forward to slice through the plastic restraints with his tactical knife.
"Marcus..." Antoine gasped, coughing weakly. "They... they made me sign a false confession claiming I was running the embezzlement ring with Mia. Reed has an offshore wire transfer receipt with Mia's forged signature ready to upload to the press the second the fire starts!"
Mia knelt beside the wounded chef, using a clean bar towel to dab the blood from his brow. "Antoine, why didn't you run?"
"Because your father gave me my first apprenticeship when I was seventeen, Mia," Antoine whispered, tears cutting clean tracks through the soot on his cheeks. "I couldn't let them burn his restaurant. I tried to lock the gas valves, but Pike caught me from behind."
Ethan helped Antoine to his feet. "Can you walk?"
"I can walk," Antoine said, his eyes filled with stubborn defiance. "And I can testify."
"Marcus," Ethan said, turning to the detective. "Get your brother out through the coal chute. Call the tactical response team. Seal the perimeter from the outside."
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"I'm not leaving you in here with two armed killers, Ethan," Vance countered.
"You won't be," Ethan replied, pulling a heavy iron chef's skillet from the hanging rack beside the range. "Mia and I are going up those stairs. It's time for the CEO to conduct an unannounced performance review."
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