Written in Stone by Ellery Adams Page A

a very long day,
     so she waved at the men and women who’d be calling The Boot Top home for the next
     eight to ten hours and asked them to join her in the kitchen.
    Michel had laid out an exquisite breakfast buffet of scallion goat cheese muffins,
     chorizo frittatas, applewood smoked bacon, poached apricots, and rum raisin sticky
     buns. The table was festooned with citrus-colored orchids, and a French press filled
     with coffee stood at the ready.
    The Boot Top’s head chef was industriously chopping carrots at the butcher block when
     Olivia and the TV crew entered the kitchen. He looked up as if he were pleasantly
     surprised by their arrival, wiped his hands on his apron, and spread his arms wide
     in a gesture of welcome. He was beaming.
    “Welcome to my kitchen!” he called out happily, his faint French accent more pronounced.
     His smile wobbled slightly. “Where’s Mr. Wiseman?”
    “Being spoiled by Gabe,” Olivia assured him. “Let these folks indulge before your
     magnificent dishes grow cold, and in the meantime, you can introduce yourself and
     the rest of the kitchen staff.”
    Taking her advice, Michel described the dishes he’d prepared and then served coffee
     with steamed milk to the crew, asking their names and pausing to exchange brief biographical
     tidbits with each and every person. He was so gracious and charming that the crewmembers
     nearly forgot they were there to work.
    Noah Wiseman quickly put an end to the relaxed atmosphere. Waltzing into the kitchen
     he announced, “No, no. This won’t do at all!”
    Michel looked stricken, the sous-chefs offended. Even the dishwasher frowned and quickly
     dried his hands on a towel as if he might be called upon to defend The Boot Top’s
     honor by stepping outside and throwing a few punches.
    Candice immediately put her fork down and hastened to Noah’s side, clipboard at the
     ready.
    He turned to her. “How am I going to get a wide shot? I need to see this kitchen in
     action. I want curtains of steam and flames leaping from sauté pans. This space is
     too, too narrow.” Throwing out his hands, he said, “It’ll be like shooting in Manhattan
     all over again!”
    “And look what magic you were able to create there,” Candice said in a honeyed voice.
    Noah brightened. “It was exciting, wasn’t it? Where’s my chef?”
    At last, Michel was able to present himself to the director and the pair fell into
     an easy conversation over the proposed menu. Meanwhile, the crewmembers had second
     helpings from the breakfast buffet and began to wander around the restaurant to search
     for outlets, test the lighting, and pile up equipment in the bar.
    Leaving them to their tasks, Olivia disappeared into her office. She walked around
     Haviland’s sleeping form and sat down in front of her computer. The poodle opened
     his eyes briefly, only to shut them again after receiving a cursory pat on the head.
     Accustomed to the clanging of pots and pans and the sound of Michel shouting to his
     underlings, he was unfazed by the additional noise created by the TV crew.
    Olivia decided to use the time before her interview researching the class ring embedded
     in the memory jug. Though the name of the school was hidden from view, it was still
     possible to see a sliver of green stone poking out of the epoxy. Last night, Olivia
     had studied the exposed side of the ring with a magnifying glass and had discovered
     a small symbol inside a shield. It looked like a bee or wasp, but she had yet to find
     a high school whose mascot was an insect.
    Unable to sleep, Olivia had taken her laptop to bed and had surfed until she’d found
     several companies who produced class rings. Since then, she’d gone through online
     catalogues until the bright gemstones, embossed crests, Latin mottos, and school names
     blurred together.
    None of the catalog samples matched the shield found on the jug’s ring, but Olivia
     refused to give up. Hoping the piece of jewelry