BAKER'S DOZEN

The aroma of roasting chiles filled the kitchen. Fran smiled at Catalina as she entered the room. "You're just in time to help out. Take the chiles off the grill and put them in a paper bag."

Catalina nodded happily. "My grandmother always had me help with this."

"Then you know what to do after they cool a bit."

"Uh-huh, peel and seed."

"Put on some gloves so you don't rub your eye and get the chile oil in them." Fran pointed to a drawer. Catalina grabbed plastic gloves, pulled the chiles off the grill with a tong, dropped them into a paper bag, and took them outside. She returned ten minutes later to find Fran browning meat in a huge skillet.

"Chop them on that board and put them in the pan, will you?"

Catalina took a paring knife out of the drawer. Fran shook her head.

"You need a larger knife, chica. It will take forever to get done with that one". She gave Cat a chef's knife from the drawer. Carefully the girl chopped the chiles when she was done. Fran pointed to the onions and garlic. The girl chopped the vegetables and put them in the skillet with the meat and seasonings.

Fran tasted, added spices, tasted again, turned the heat down to a simmer, and covered it.

"Why are you cooking so much food."

"We have friends over for dinner tonight. Maybe you could feed the dogs? I'm sure they'd appreciate getting their dinner."

Catalina grinned broadly and went to the food bin by the door. Opening it, she took a scoop, dipped it in, and poured it into a bowl. She repeated the motion two more times, following it by filling three other bowls with water. She went over to the French doors and opened them, calling out, "Dogs! Dinner!"

In response, two Belgian Groendahl Shepherds, one jet black with a white patch on her chest, the other, a tan and black male, barreled in, nails clicking on the hardwood floor. Both had lean. narrow, intelligent faces resembling a cross between a German Shepherd and a wolf, with long coats like a collie. They were followed by a Terveuren puppy that looked more like a bear cub than a dog, with its fluffy dark brown fur. They lined up at their bowls, scarfing the food ravenously as if they'd not seen food all day, slurping water like they lived in the desert. The two adults checked each other's bowl to see that it was empty. Cat scooped up the puppy, plunked down on one of the stools, and stroked the squirming animal as Fran started making corn tortillas. Quickly she beat cornmeal, salt, and water together, forming the batter into small balls.

"Put Trip down, wash your hands, and you can help me with the tortillas."

The puppy raced off to find the others while Cat washed her hands in the sink. She took the balls out one at a time, squishing them in the tortilla press, handing the flat disks to Fran, who cooked them quickly on the griddle.

"Who all is coming tonight?"

"People from Ed's office and their spouses. Us, the Chief, and Mark."

"Who are the Chief and Mark?"

"Our old boss from San Francisco. Mark Sanger is a judge now, but he worked with Ed and me. You'll meet Mac's wife, Eve, tonight; she used to work with the Chief before I did. She's my best friend.

"Why are we having chili and not hamburgers?"

"When I was growing up, my father loved to play poker. He would have his friends come over to play every Wednesday. Mamita would make chili and tortillas for them. It's how I met the Chief. He was my dad's partner, and the Chief loves chili."

The stack of tortillas grew taller. Fran put a cloth over them, sticking them in the oven to keep them warm. Taking salsa, cheese, and sour cream out of the refrigerator, Fran chopped more onion and cilantro. She put them all into small bowls and back in the refrigerator.

Ed came into the kitchen. "Mmm, smells wonderful." He grabbed a spoon and stuck it in the pot. Fran good-naturedly slapped his hand after he ate.

"You're as incorrigible as dad was."

Ed gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "High praise."

"Catalina, I need you to help set the table," Sarah called from the dining room. "We don't have too much time before people come."

Catalina left to help Ed's mother.

"I invited Steve Timmons to come. He needs to know what's going on too." Ed said.

"He'll want dessert."

"I told him to bring it."

"He likes snacks."

"Told him to bring his own popcorn."

"You're a good man, Ed Brown."

"Yep, and you are a wonderful woman to do all this."

"I had lots of help tonight. Flattering the cook will not get you a bowl of chili early."

Ed shrugged his shoulders. "You can't blame me for trying."

The doorbell rang Westminster Chimes. They could hear Orval give a slight growl as he got up to check the door. Duchesse followed. Sleepily, Tripel looked up from his bed, rolled over onto his back, and extended his legs.

Ed looked at his watch. "Seven-thirty. Right on time. Anything else I need to help with before everyone's here?"

'No, being my official taste tester was enough."

"I thought so," he grinned.

The doorbell rang again.

"Edward, will you get the door!" His mother called.

"Yes, Ma, I'm coming."

By the time he got to the door, Catalina had already opened it, revealing the MacAllisters, Mark Sanger, and the Chief. Ironside looked up at the girl.

"Good evening Señorita. You must be Catalina. I'm"

"You're Chief Ironside."

"I am."

Ed walked up behind the girl. "Chief, c'mon in. You've met Cat, I see. Orval, Duchesse, go lie down." The dogs sniffed Ironside's proffered hand, followed by the wheelchair; then, they returned to their beds.

Ironside pushed himself into the house. "Nice dogs. Belgians?"

"Groendahls. The sleeping furball's a Terveuren."

The Chief sniffed appreciatively.

"It's not Wednesday."

"No, it's not Robert, but Fran cooked just for you." Sarah came out from the dining room, bent over, and kissed the Chief.

"Sarah, good to see you again."

"You as well, Robert." Sarah went around to Sam, Eve, and Mark, greeting them with hugs and kisses.

"Cat, will you put their coats in the office," Sarah asked.

Ironside wheeled into the kitchen.

"Chief!" Fran hugged her mentor. "So good to see you."

"How are you doing?"

"Busy, mainly doing good things at the museum."

"How's it going with you having Catalina here?"

"It's going well so far. It's only been a couple of days, but we're all fond of her. We keep her busy. When she needs to talk, someone is there to listen."

"Does she have any clue about why this happened?"

"I don't know, Chief. She hasn't talked about that. I'm glad you're here, though, despite the situation."

"Me too. A week of good Mexican food, friends, and a mystery to solve."

Eve MacAllister breezed into the kitchen. She hugged Fran. "Like old times. We're back together, working on a case. Just like in Vienna."

"I was hoping the only cases I'd have to solve here involved paintings."

"So, what's new at the museum?"

"Typical day. Priceless Lakota Drum smashed by an enthusiastic child; a sixteenth-century Veronese turning out to be a several million-dollar forgery."

"What gave it away?"

"The usual, modern paint. It's not my problem, though. I'll let the Directors deal with that."

"Can I help get things out on the table for you?"

Fran took out the tray of tortillas. "You can start with that."

A/N Dog breeds chosen and name suggestions courtesy of BluseyBelge. Salut, my friend.