Free Turn up the Heat by Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant

mornings, even for mornings in the artificial light of a restaurant, and his face was haggard. Kevin had some indefinable quality that made me feel a little embarrassed for him. He seemed to be getting too old to be shaping his sideburns and pouring drinks for Newbury Street’s young, rich crowd. Most of Simmer’s dining room customers were well over thirty, but the bar scene was always a young crowd. Maybe I was being unfair to Kevin; plenty of professional bartenders, servers, and hosts were out of their twenties. Perhaps he was trying too hard to fit in? Leandra said that Kevin had been shot down again the other night, and the thought of him hitting on barely legal women was embarrassing. Even Leandra had seemed to feel bad for him.
    Wade leaned over and rested both hands on the table. “Everything was normal last night. Kevin and I were the last people here. We set the alarm, locked up, and left. Leandra left way before we did. We didn’t see or hear anything weird. Like I said, everything was normal.”
    “Maybe I should have put video surveillance cameras outside. Do you think that would’ve helped?”
    Kevin shook his head. “I don’t think so. I mean, we don’t even know what happened, really, but there’s no reason to think this could have been prevented.”
    “Gavin, man,” Wade said, “I know how hard this must be on you and on the restaurant. It’s rough on Josh, too. I mean, he’s so dedicated to you and Simmer. But it’s not your fault. Just, you know, let us know if we can do anything for you.”
    Gavin looked down and spoke in an almost inaudible whisper. “Leandra. She had so many friends from having worked at so many restaurants around Boston. Kevin, you and Leandra worked together before, right?”
    Kevin nodded.
    “And everyone here knew what a great person she was and appreciated all her contributions to Simmer’s success. She’s really going to be missed by a lot of people.”
    Although Wade and Kevin again nodded, Gavin didn’t get quite the passionate response he was seeking. Fortunately, he was too caught up in his grief to notice. From what I knew of Leandra, she’d been a far from congenial staff member. Not that she’d deserved to end up as she had. Still, I could see why her coworkers were having trouble voicing genuine sorrow.
    I excused myself and went over to intrude on Snacker’s flirting session with Blythe. What I walked in on turned out to be Blythe’s description of a term paper she’d written in college about feminist perspectives on pornography. “So there’s one school of feminist thought that decries all pornography as women selling their bodies as a commodity and sees pornography as totally degrading and belittling and all that. Another view is the one that supports a woman’s right to choose what she does. That view doesn’t necessarily approve of pornography but accepts a woman’s prerogative to make decisions about what she does. And the third view actually argues that pornography can be beneficial and empowering to women.”
    “Uh-huh.” Snacker was clinging to her every word. “That is really interesting.”
    Interesting, my ass. Snacker just ate up Blythe’s talk about pornography. The little pseudolecture was vintage Blythe. She was managing to entice and even seduce Snacker by talking about sex and porn while still maintaining her academic air. I had to give her credit.
    “Hi, guys. Hope I’m not disturbing you?” I winked at Blythe.
    “Hi, Chloe.” Blythe smiled warmly, but she had the decency to look a little embarrassed. “You’re not disturbing us. Not at all. I can’t believe what happened to Leandra.” Jingling the silver bracelets on her wrist, she brushed her angled hair out of her eye. “I feel sort of bad that my last conversation with her was that tiff we had. She said that my breasts were so small that I looked like a guy. Granted, I’m no Pam Anderson, but she was really picking on me. The detectives seemed to really