Starks' Reality by Sarah Storme Read Free Book Online

inspection.
    “I only found minor infractions,” Yarro said. “A couple of cracked plates , and bearings starting to go bad on a cooler motor.” He looked at her apologetically. “But because of the illnesses, you’ll have to stop serving food until we get test results.”
    Heather worked to steel herself against a wave of dizziness. “Do we have to shut down the kitchen? Can’t we just stop serving oysters?”
    “I’m sorry, Miss Cooper, but I have to follow the law. We don’t know for sure that the oysters are the problem, and with eight reports of illness—”
    “Eight?” She glanced at Starks.
    He nodded. “Three more called in this afternoon.”
    “I don’t have a choice,” Yarro said. He signed another piece of paper and handed it to her. “This is just for food service. You can keep the bar open.”
    Heather nodded as she folded the closure order in half, trying not to appear ungrateful as fear churned into nausea.
    “I’m sorry,” Yarro said. He turned and left with Starks behind him.
    Heather took long, deep breaths as she watched Starks, Yarro, and the assistant inspector talk in the parking lot. After a few minutes, they shook hands. Yarro and the other man climbed into the government truck and drove away.
    Starks returned and stood across the bar from her. “You okay?”
    She nodded, embarrassed by welling tears.
    The chief either didn’t notice, or pretended not to. “They promised to rush the tests through. You should hear something soon.”
    She nodded again.
    As soon as he left, Heather hurried to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face. It wouldn’t help to give into despair; she’d only feel worse. After patting her face dry, she returned to the bar and set to work sweeping the floor, trying to stay focused on mindless tasks in order not to think about the future.
    Skeet showed up a little early. The screen door slammed behind him and he nodded in her direction as he headed for the kitchen.
    “Skeet, wait.”
    He stopped.
    “We’ve been shut down by the Health Department.”
    “How come?”
    “Eight people got sick off the oysters last night.”
    Skeet put his hands on his hips and muttered things under his breath that she was sure she didn’t want to hear.
    The front door opened and Tran Dinh Duc walked in, followed by Huey, his oldest son.
    The older man smiled at her. “I have four sacks for you,” he said.
    “Didn’t Coop talk to you?”
    “I have not spoken to your father,” he said, carefully pronouncing each word. “What did he wish to say?”
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Duc, but we can’t buy any more oysters for a while.”
    The man’s smile vanished. “Why not?”
    “The Health Department closed the kitchen. Eight people got sick last night, and all of them had oysters.”
    Panic widened his eyes. “I give you good oysters. Not bad, only good. No one ever gets sick on my oysters. No one!”
    Huey took his father’s arm and pulled him gently backwards.
    “I’m sorry, Mr. Duc,” Heather said. “I’m really sorry.”
    Even though it was probably his fault her father’s business would suffer, her heart went out to Tran. His entire livelihood was the fish and oysters he provided to restaurants along the coast. How would he care for his children if that livelihood vanished?
    Tears fell from the man’s eyes as he allowed his son to guide him from the bar. Heather glanced back at Skeet, who shook his head in apparent disgust.
    “You need me?” he asked.
    Skeet refused to serve liquor or work the register. Heather had never questioned it, assuming his reluctanc e stemmed from his time in prison.
    “ I guess not,” she said. “I’ll call you when we’re ready to open the kitchen again.”
    Without further conversation, he left.
    Alone in the room, sorrow fell on her like a curtain on a tragic play. No matter how hard she tried, the future she’d dreamed of slid farther and farther away. She couldn’t just sit around and act like nothing was