By Beka Gremikova
“Final meal choice, Dunbar. What do you want?”
Vic Dunbar lifted his head. He’d thought long and hard, trying to decide between steak and spaghetti. “Got anyone who can cook a good steak?” Nothing beat Lady Love’s cooking, but beggars couldn’t be too picky.
Kate, his prison guard, narrowed her eyes at him. “Not that I know of. What do you think this is, the palace?”
Dunbar sighed. Somehow the prospect of a disgusting last meal irritated him more than his upcoming execution. “Prison budget that tight?”
Kate pressed her lips together. “If they could afford someone who cooks a good steak, they could afford to give me a raise.” She leaned against his cell’s iron bars. “Hurry up and choose.”
“Don’t rush me.” If he had to face Queen Helen’s gallows, he wanted the right fortification.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, diva. I’ll go ask the other death rows, then I’ll circle back.” She sauntered away, hands in her pockets.
Dunbar flexed his fingers. Blast, what he wouldn’t give for a good steak: rare, seasoned with salt and pepper and maybe lemon. His mouth watered.
But knowing his luck, some dirty-fingered prison cook would spoil his favorite dish.
When Kate returned, he ordered spaghetti.
“Spaghetti?” Betsy-Lou stared at Kate in disbelief. Over her three years of employment, she’d never felt so offended by a death row inmate’s request. “One of the most renowned criminals of our time, and he orders spaghetti?”
“Wonder what his girlfriend would say. The infamous Lady Love.” Kate fiddled with her badge. “Wonder how she’s dated all those criminals without ever committing crimes herself. Now that’s talent. Not to mention—”
“She’s never lost a man to the gallows.” Betsy-Lou quoted the popular phrase, smiling.
“Well, until this guy, anyway.” Kate sidestepped as Marie, another kitchen worker, bustled past to start the spaghetti.
“Criminals must be her type,” Marie joked.
Betsy-Lou sniffed. “Can’t believe Dunbar was stupid enough to get caught.”
Marie dumped a package of ground beef into her pan. “Dunbar was such a good boy. I think Lady Love ruined him.”
Betsy-Lou scoffed. “Maybe he wasn’t as good as you think.”
“Not a fan?” Marie asked.
“Spaghetti,” Betsy-Lou snapped, “is beneath a man connected to Lady Love.”
“Oh, you’re a Lady Love fanatic.” Marie squinted at her. “Makes sense, considering all your makeup. Except hers is always done perfectly.”
Betsy-Lou ignored Marie’s verbal stab and pondered another dilemma. Since being hired, she’d cooked her way through thousands of worthless meals to reach this one. She’d imagined preparing lobster tails and caviar… or the perfect steak: rare, with salt and pepper. Not spaghetti.
This would be in the newspaper, for heaven’s sake. Annoyed, she whirled and dashed to the kitchen fridge. Her fellow workers stared at her as she rummaged and produced a small strip steak. She grimaced. “No tenderloin in here?” That would be a tad fancier.
Kate snorted. “First Dunbar, now you. We’re not the palace, sweetheart. I didn’t even know you could cook steak.”
Betsy-Lou slammed the fridge door shut. “The other blighters never asked for steak.” And I don’t care about them.
“Dunbar didn’t order steak, either.”
Because he couldn’t show even a sliver of pride. “Consider it my gift to a famous criminal.” Betsy-Lou hurried over to the spice cabinet where the kitchen workers kept their own supplies from home. “You cook him that blasted spaghetti, Marie. I’m going to cook something worthy of my talents.” And add in a special ingredient of my own.
“I’m supposed to tell you it was made with love.” Kate’s voice was edged with laughter.
“Was it made by a fan or something?” Dunbar slid his knife through the perfectly grilled steak. His eyes widened. “It’s rare.” He grinned.
“That good?” Kate shook her head. “Maybe that means I’ll get that raise.”
Dunbar lifted a forkful to his mouth. The meat was tender and piping hot. He closed his eyes and sighed deeply. As he chewed, the fiery sensation of pepper ignited his taste buds, then died away to reveal… His eyes flew open. He sat up straighter, staring down at the steak resting in au jus. That flavor! Slight sourness mixed with the pepper in a combination most people only used on fish.
My favorite. And a preference very few knew.
He glanced toward Kate, but she had already moved on to deliver meals to the other death row inmates.
Pondering, he took another bite and frowned. A different, mystery flavor lurked, masked by the sour fire of the lemon-pepper mix. The more he ate, the more that taste heightened—a lingering, frosty heat, like someone had dragged an ice cube across his tongue.
He finished the steak and licked his lips. Kate had brought him a bowl of spaghetti, too. Though the steak had satisfied him, who knew if they had feasts in hell? He might as well gorge now.
As he slurped spaghetti noodles, the steak’s lingering cold tingle punctuated the acid spark of the tomato sauce coating his tongue.
His heart started speeding faster than a runaway horse. His thoughts stretched like taffy.
Saliva filled his mouth, but he couldn’t swallow.
His fork fumbled from his fingers and clattered to the ground.
With a sigh, Betsy-Lou locked the kitchen doors after her. What a long day. Her personal blend of spices rested safely in her pocket. She’d mixed it with a poison the prison kept for executing female inmates—Queen Helen considered hanging women to be in poor taste.
Betsy-Lou smiled. Three long years of waiting, working, had led to this day. Now, her reputation protected, her job done, she could go home and change her makeup, get rid of her disguise. Maybe find a new beau.
“Sorry, Dunbar,” she murmured. “It was nothing personal.”
It was a matter of pride more than anything else. After all, Lady Love had never lost a man to the gallows, and she wasn’t about to start now.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Wonderful. Even as I saw the ending coming, I found it satisfying. To lay a clear logical path to your conclusion without making this reader roll her eyes- that’s a hard trick in so few words.
Thank you so much! That means a lot!
Ahhh I love this one so much! 😍 such a delicious (pun intended) mystery that was perfectly foreshadowed but still satisfying. And that last line is PERFECT.
Thank you so much, dear friend! The last line is my favourite, too! ❤️
I loved this! Great job Beka!
Thank you, Julia! :-D