Red Beans and Vice by Lou Jane Temple

thinks he got sick from the food. Someone who doesn’t like the open mike nights. Someone who personally doesn’t like one of your employees.” Bonnie waved for a waiter. “Could I have some coffee?” she asked when one hurried over. Heaven’s table was always considered VIP at the Cup.
    “And then?” Heaven asked glumly.
    “People who don’t like the groups mentioned in the letter. Someone who hates gays, or waiters, or cooks,” Bonnie said calmly, not feeling Heaven’s sense of doom and drama.
    “What’s the largest circle?” Heaven asked.
    “The poison-pen version of random violence. Someone who could have chosen any restaurant to terrorize, and you just happened to get chosen.”
    Out of nowhere three desserts appeared, compliments of Charlene, who waved at them from behind the coffee counter. The two were quiet for a while as they tasted a baked apple with cinnamon ice !ream, a dense dark-chocolate brownie, and a piece of key lime pie.
    “Will you do one thing for me, Bonnie?”
    “You know I will within my limitations.”
    Heaven polished off the last bite of the brownie. “Will you ask around the department? Maybe some other restaurant has been getting these too and we just don’t know about it. Or maybe some other kinds of businesses that hire lots of gay people have been targeted. We might be able to eliminate one or two of these possibilities.”
    “Now that I can do,” Bonnie Weber said.
    H eaven rolled over on Hank again. She kissed his neck and the little hollow where his collarbone fit on his chest. She licked his shoulder, wanting to set the taste of him in her mind. “I’ll miss you,” she whispered.
    Hank ran his hand through her hair. “You’re only going to be gone for a few days. Why are you acting this way?”
    “I’m afraid.”
    Hank pulled her down until her head was on his chest. He wrapped her up in his arms and let the beat of his heart calm her. After a few minutes he sensed that she was more relaxed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say that before, that you’re afraid. What of?”
    “The fact that there are people out in the world that I don’t know that may want to do me harm scares me. Whoever wrote that letter about my restaurant scares me. The person who vandalized the convent in New Orleans scares me. The fact that some or all of these things could be just random really scares me.”
    Hank stroked her head. “If you know what you’re up against, you can figure out how to fight it. I know you’re a warrior, Heaven.”
    “I’m a tired warrior. I feel defeated.”
    “Then I’m going to take your mind to a completely different level for a minute. I have a favor to ask you.”
    “Anything, as long as it doesn’t require warrioring,” Heaven said, rolling over and propping her head up with one arm so she could look at Hank.
    “I have a package of little gifts and a letter that I’d like for you to take to my cousins in New Orleans. They live in a Vietnamese enclave just out of town. Its called Versailles. I think it’s very well known and shouldn’t be hard to find.”
    “Of course, but why not send them UPS?”
    “Because I want them to meet you, that’s why. This way there will be no embarrassment, no one has to ask the other to dinner or something that might be strained. You can deliver the package and they will get to meet you. And you them, of course.”
    Heaven was touched. “Is this because your mom has told them what an evil white witch I am? You want to show them I don’t have horns?”
    “I want them to see the remarkable woman that I love. That’s all.”
    “Aren’t you afraid that when they see how old I am, plus being an Anglo, it will just make things worse?”
    Hank laughed. “Two of my cousins are general practitionersand run a family practice together, and a third is a dentist. They should be able to handle any geriatric medical emergencies that might occur.”
    “I think I’m having one now.” Heaven grabbed