THE SECRET INGREDIENT
429 Words
Camden sat in silence, his coffee untouched, his mind reeling. Mila was alive. Everything he believed about her disappearance had just been shattered. Across from him, Janelle watched him closely.
“She said Vale tried to manipulate her,” she explained. “Used threats, blackmail. Forced her into hiding.”
Camden looked up slowly. “Why would he do that?”
“Because he was protecting someone else. Someone with more to lose than even you.”
Janelle pulled a photo from her coat pocket and slid it across the table. It showed Vale shaking hands with a heavyset man in a crisp navy suit.
“Chef Anton Russo,” she said. “Owner of Ember House. Competes with Cendre. And a known investor in underground food labs. Vale reviewed Russo’s restaurants favorably for years. They were partners.”
Camden frowned. “What does Russo have to do with Mila?”
“She believes Russo tried to steal her saffron duck recipe. Vale was the go-between. But when Mila refused to license her ideas, Russo decided to erase her from the scene.”
Camden stared at the photo. “I’ve seen this man once. He came into Cendre last year. Said he was looking to ‘buy inspiration.’ I thought he was joking.”
Janelle leaned forward. “He wasn’t.”
---
Later that day, Janelle and Camden walked into Ember House under the pretense of dining. The restaurant was sleek, modern, and cold. Russo stood near the entrance, greeting patrons with a practiced smile.
When he saw Camden, his smile tightened.
“Well, well,” Russo said. “Didn’t expect to see Manhattan’s golden chef grace my humble spot.”
Camden forced a smile. “Just thought I’d try something new.”
Russo turned his attention to Janelle. “And you are?”
“Hungry,” she replied.
Russo laughed, but there was tension in his eyes.
They were seated near the kitchen. As they waited, Janelle scanned the staff. Young, efficient, quiet. Too quiet. Like soldiers following strict orders.
The first course arrived. Saffron duck.
Camden’s stomach turned.
Janelle picked up her fork, eyes on the plate. “Looks familiar.”
Camden didn’t touch his.
When Russo returned to check on them, Janelle stood.
“I think we’ve had enough,” she said.
Russo’s grin faltered. “Already?”
Janelle flashed her badge. “Detective Ward. We need to talk.”
Russo’s face went stone cold.
“I have nothing to say.”
“You do,” she said. “About Mila Jordan. About the journal. About
- Writer
