Chapter Three

Chapter Three

Jack's Place was neither large nor architecturally

impressive. The restaurant was located in a nondescript

stucco building on a newly fashionable section of Melrose

Boulevard. It had originally been a barbershop, but as the

neighborhood declined, so did business, and it became a

used-clothing store. When the neighborhood declined

further still, it became an adult "toy" store, selling leather

goods, body oils and other items for those who preferred

sex with accessories. Briefly there was a massage parlor in

the back, where massages tended to get very, very handson.

A police crackdown closed the shop, and the building sat

empty for several years until the fickle winds of fate and

fashion turned Melrose into one of L.A.'s "places to be."

Chi-chi shops with whimsical names and stratospheric

prices replaced the adult bookstores, used-clothing

emporiums and massage parlors. Businesses, legitimate

and otherwise, were displaced to make way for valet

parking, styling salons and a pet-sitting service that

promised to "watch your pets while you shop."

Cat wedged her Volkswagen into a spot between a

Mercedes and a Lexus and got out, careful not to bump

Ruthie's door against the Lexus's shiny black paint. The

hatchback squealed when she lifted it, and she made a

mental note to grease the hinges. Maybe this time she

would even remember to do it, she thought optimistically.

She opened the flaps of the large cardboard box,

checking to make sure her cargo was still in good shape.

Lettuce lay in carefully stacked mounds, a riot of soft

greens and bronze-toned reds. Bundles of carrots, still

dusted with dirt, nestled next to crisp white-and-green

shafts of leeks and scallions, and radishes in colors ranging

from white to burgundy. The rich scents of earth and green,

growing things wafted out, and she inhaled deeply,

savoring the scent even more here, in the midst of the

traffic smells, than she did when she was actually in the

garden.

Satisfied that everything was in good shape, she flipped

the box closed and lifted it out, balancing it on her knee

until she had the hatchback shut. The huge garden behind

Larry's house had been started by his first wife. She'd died

when Devon was a child, and it had lain fallow for several

years before Naomi and Cat moved in with Larry.

Cat had been drawn to the tangled remains of once

orderly beds, and had started pulling weeds and tidying

things up. Over the years, the garden had become her

domain. She planted a few flowers, but her main love was

for growing vegetables. At first she'd grown enough to

supply the family, but she couldn't resist expanding the

garden and trying new varieties, and she was eventually

growing more produce than they could possibly use.

She was barely eighteen when she read an article about

a chef in Maine who bought much of the fresh produce he

used in his restaurant from a home grower. With a feeling

that she had nothing to lose, she began calling upscale

restaurants. Jack's Place had just been starting to get a

reputation as a place to go, and Jack Reynolds's name was

beginning to be mentioned when people talked about hot

new chefs. At twenty-three, he was a rising young star with

a reputation for uncompromising quality. Cat's organically

grown produce fit right in with his philosophy. Their

relationship had started out as business but had quickly

moved into friendship.

The in-crowd was apparently busy elsewhere at two o'

clock on a Thursday afternoon, and the sidewalk was

relatively empty, which made a nice change from

Saturdays, when she found herself maneuvering around

people who were so busy being seen that they apparently

couldn't be bothered to watch where they were going