by Sonia Parin
“We excel at those and our customers always receive exactly what they expect. What sort of numbers are we talking about?”
Eve plucked a number from out of nowhere.
“Two hundred. We can do that easily and if you don’t have your kitchen set up, one of our trucks is fully equipped.”
“What about staff?”
“We hire only the best. Our chefs are fully qualified with extensive experience.”
“And your kitchen assistants? Are they qualified too?”
The woman lifted her chin slightly. “Of course. We have inspectors making sure we adhere to regulations. They are all fully qualified in food handling.”
She was given a tour of their showroom set up with different table settings and shown a variety of menus. Cost was something that would be discussed when Eve had a better idea of what she wanted.
To her surprise, Lana Bishop didn’t give her a hard sale.
“What now?” Jill asked as they sat in her car.
“Now we wait for Millicent to finish up for the day.”
“You think she knows something?”
“She worked in the kitchen that night and she said she wasn’t supposed to. I want to know how and why. I have a vague recollection of seeing her in the background. If she’d done something wrong, it would have been obvious. Chefs are not known for their patience and someone would have told her off straightaway.”
“Yes, but... do you think she’ll talk to you?”
“Leverage. I have it. She wasn’t supposed to be in the kitchen. She could have been covering for someone, or maybe moonlighting to get extra money. I did it myself when I first started out. We’ll know soon enough.”
“What about Lana Bishop? She looked suspicious to me.”
“We’ll ask Millicent about her. If she says anything to raise our suspicions, we’ll follow it up then. Remember, I want to talk to the people who worked in the kitchen that night. I think Millicent can give us the foot in the door we need.”
They had an hour to wait, but their patience paid off.
First they saw Lana Bishop leave in her flashy little convertible. Soon after, Millicent came out, her head bowed, her shoulders hunched in a way that suggested she’d had a hard day at the salt mines. Eve felt a twinge of reluctance. But she needed to get to the bottom of this and she refused to go home empty-handed.
“Millicent.”
She hurried her step so Eve broke into a trot.
Thankfully, Millicent didn’t break into a run. Instead, she stopped and swirled around to face Eve.
“What?”
Clearly her customer service amiability didn’t extend outside office working hours. Fair enough, Eve thought.
“Were you trying to pick up extra cash that night or covering an absence?” That seemed more feasible.
“Why do you want to know?”
“You weren’t meant to be there, Millicent.” Playing a guessing game, Eve said, “That could get you into trouble.”
Millicent looked around her and pushed out a breath. “I had to drop something off or else heads would have rolled.”
Did that mean Lana Bishop was another Charlotte type?
“When I arrived,” Millicent continued, “One of the chefs said they were short staffed. I had to find a solution, solve the problem, so I stayed on. He only needed help washing vegetables.”
“What did you have to drop there?”
“One of the boxes had been left behind. It should have gone out with the trucks the day before. It was an essential ingredient. I’d been responsible for keeping track of what needed to go that day but I must have missed it. One moment it was there, the next it wasn’t. I got side-tracked and I assumed it had been loaded. The truck left and the next day I noticed the box had been left behind. Sometimes it gets hectic.”
“And what was in the box?”
“Pâté.”
“The pâté. The poison had to have been in the pâté. The box was in the Mayflower Catering office overnight. Anyone could have tampered with it.” Eve left the message and disconnected the call. Belatedly, she realized she hadn’t told Jack anything he didn’t already know. The lab people had already determined the cause of death so that meant they’d found traces of the poison in the pâté.
“Jack didn’t answer?”
Eve slipped her cell phone inside her pocket. “No, but hopefully he’ll listen to my message and get back to me.”
“What if he doesn’t? You’ll never share information with him again?”
“You talk as if this is going to be a recurring problem. This is it. No more deaths on the island, thank you. We’ve already had our run of bad luck.” She relaxed her shoulders and took in the pretty scenery. The leaves were turning, but there were still some splashes of color, the last blooms of summer. Potted plants still hung on verandas but soon they’d be taken in. Some of the houses had had fresh coats of paint and that would brighten up the cold days ahead.
“It might be like a fad. Island life had been too quiet for too long. Now it’s our turn to experience murder and mayhem.”
“In that case, I might have to pack up and leave. I don’t think I can live in a place where I have to constantly look over my shoulder.”
“You’ll get used to it. You do realize we’re under constant threat of a meteor hitting the earth. But you don’t see people walking around looking up at the sky to see if they can spot one. Everyone gets on with the business of living life because the disaster they fear might never happen.”
Eve frowned. “Hang on. What about the doomsayers?”
“Do you see anyone standing at the curve holding up a placard, beware, you might be next?” Jill asked.
“I wouldn’t joke about it.”
“No, I guess not.” Jill laughed. “This mental image of you walking around with a sandwich board popped into my head. It’s going to be like one of those tunes you can’t rid of.”
“It could come to that.” Eve shook her head. “Honestly, there have been three deaths since I’ve come to live here.” And to think she’d come here to relax...
“Freakish coincidence. Let’s hope it has nothing to do with the law of attraction.”
“What do you mean?” Eve asked.
“You know, what you think about, you bring about because that would mean you have murder on your mind.”
“Hey, why me? Why not someone else on the island?”
“Because you’re the newcomer.” Jill smiled. “An easy target. By the way, I took some photos of the guests on the yacht. What do you want to do with them?”
“We’ll print them up and start a pin board.”
“Do we get to draw circles around the main suspects?”
“You sound thrilled.”
Jill hummed. “I’ve had a quiet month.”
“I thought you were happy dating Officer Matthews.” The two had paired up when Officer Matthews had been assigned to watch over Mira’s beach house when a killer had been on the loose and, since then, they’d become inseparable.
“I was, but he’s on a training camp so I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks.”
“Sorry, I should have noticed... I should have asked. Does that make me selfish and self-centered?” She had been busy thinking and planning. And once again, trying to get over the experience of having a gun pointed at her.
“You notice other stuff. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
Eve brushed her hand across her brow. “I’m not usually. I’m putting it down to Charlotte’s presence on the island. She’s a force to be reckoned with and has a lot to answer for.”
Jill fell silent for a moment, and then she said, “We all have a Charlotte in our lives. Mine was the woman I worked for at the magazine.”
A woman who’d turned Jill’s working life into a nightmare. She didn’t understand why some people had to justify their existence by making other people miserable. It would be enough to drive anyone over the edge... but how far?
What
drove a person to kill? Desperation? Greed? Vengeance. “If you had the chance... would you...”
“Plot her downfall?” Jill asked.
“Kill her.”
“Let me think about it.”
“I guess you wouldn’t. If you have to think about it, it means you still have command of your reasoning mind.”
“But I could still decide I’d be a happier person if I took matters into my own hands. Of course, by then it would become a premeditated act.”
“We’d make dreadful killers.”
“Incompetent,” Jill agreed.
Eve’s cell phone rang. “Jack.”
“You sound surprised,” he said.
“I am.” In truth, she always sounded breathless when she heard his voice. “I didn’t expect you to return my call so soon.”
“What are you up to, Eve?”
“No need to sound suspicious. I’m parking my car. Now I’m getting out of the car. Walking toward the front door.”
“Cute.”
She heard what sounded like a sigh of frustration. “I’m baking a chocolate tart if you’d like to come by later on.”
“I doubt I’ll be able to get away. Now, please tell me you didn’t go snooping around the Mayflower Catering company.”
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you can’t help yourself.”
“You seem to have forgotten, so I’ll remind you. I’m in the process of setting up an inn and I want to throw a party.”
“You’re a chef. Why would you hire outsiders?”
“Because I want to enjoy the party and not have to work.”
“The answer is yes.”
Yes? It took a minute for Eve to figure out what he meant and then she remembered the text message she’d sent him. “So, it was the pâté. Did you question Lana Bishop?” She didn’t expect him to answer.
“We did but it sounds like you managed to walk away with more information.”
“Is my winning way beginning to grate on you?”
“Please try to avoid antagonizing people. They reserve the right to accuse you of harassment.”
“I’ll keep that in mind, detective. Anyhow, Lana Bishop didn’t reveal much. The receptionist, on the other hand, had some interesting information. Did you talk to Millicent?”
This time, she heard a growl.
Eve did a little dance on the spot. It suddenly hit her. They were onto something.
“We narrowed it down,” she whooped with joy and then filled Jack in on what she’d found out about the pâté being left behind at the office.
“All right, Sherlock.”
“You’ll have to be very careful how you approach Millicent. You don’t want to spook her. I think she’s under a lot of pressure from Lana Bishop and she’s probably scared she did something wrong.”
“Are you doing an online psychology course? Where’s all this insight coming from?”
“I’m only putting myself in her place. Lana Bishop is as bad as Charlotte and Millicent depends on her for her livelihood.” Which Eve had now put at risk. If Lana Bishop had anything to do with the poisoning, then she’d go to prison and Millicent would be out of a job. “You need to look further into Lana Bishop.”
“Do you have a motive to go with your suspicions?” Jack asked.
“No, but I’ll think of one while I’m baking my tart. I’ll call you with the results.”
She strode into the house and found Jill organizing their notes in the kitchen.
“I hope you were serious about baking that chocolate tart. It’s all I can think about now.”
“I’ll get right onto it.” Eve brought out the ingredients. “You could start on a clean page. Put Lana Bishop and her catering company at the top.”
“What about Millicent?”
“I think she’s an innocent bystander. We can think of her as a witness. Jack asked me about motive. We’ll have to come up with something.” Lana Bishop drove a flash car. “Did you notice the make of Lana’s car?” Eve asked.
“Brand new top of the line BMW.”
“Dollar value?”
“A couple of hundred.”
“Thousand?”
Jill nodded. “And that suit she wore is expensive too. Right along with her hairstyle. You don’t get haircuts like that from your local hairdresser.”
So, Lana Bishop’s business did well enough to support her lifestyle. Had that always been the case? Eve’s restaurant had done well from the start, but she’d employed a marketing guru and her ex-husband had insisted on hiring the most expensive stylist he could find. In no time, they’d become the place to be seen in. It hadn’t come cheap. Eve had used her savings and had borrowed heavily. But there were other ways. In fact, at one point her ex had suggested getting investors on-board.
“Let’s play with the idea of linking Lana Bishop to Jon O’Brian.”
“You do realize we’re not professional private detectives.”
“That’s right. We’re not detectives, but we have brains. We can figure this out.”
Eve cut up the butter into cubes, measured out the flour and sugar and got to work preparing the short crust pastry rubbing the butter in while she kept an eye on what Jill wrote.
Jill had a wobbly pen moment going. “I’m going to follow your lead and call on my friends. I used to work with Ellie. She has this incredible system of cataloguing all her magazines. And then there’s her photographic memory. It might take her a couple of days, but if she’s seen or read something, she’ll remember.”
“And what do you think she’ll be able to come up with?”
“The major social events are covered in the social pages. There might be some mention of Jon O’Brian appearing somewhere. Also, Lana Bishop might have catered some glitzy event. There’d have to be something about her company. Someone who drives a car like that has to be doing the catering for important people.” Jill sat back and smiled. “I hope you realize this is a major breakthrough.”
The pâté had been tampered with. The only way to connect someone would be to find a motive. A solid reason to kill. The killer would have worked out a plot and, most importantly, he or she would have known they could execute it without a glitch. Only a person who thought they were in full control could do that and Lana Bishop struck her as the controlling type.
Eve smiled.
“I guess you didn’t see me do my happy dance outside. But it’s really too early to tell. Let’s celebrate when we have a solid lead.” That meant they’d have to dig deep and start making connections. “Lana Bishop has to be somebody of note in the catering world. Otherwise, Charlotte would not have used her.”
“Unless it wasn’t Charlotte’s choice to make.”
Back to Jon O’Brian pulling the strings and backing Charlotte into a corner, forcing her to bend to his will because he held the purse strings.
Chapter Nine
Lana Bishop. Jon O’Brian. The jet setters. Charlotte...
There had to be a connection.
And what about Marjorie?
Charlotte’s assistant had come across as a scared little mouse. A prime candidate for a crime of vengeance. Push someone hard enough...
Eve nibbled the tip of her thumb.
“Either you’re mulling over something or you’re turning against yourself.”
“I’m frustrated.” Eve picked up the menu, and then set it down again. She’d been in touch with Shelby and had subtly hinted at wanting to know when and if the high-fliers made a booking at Shelby’s Table and Shelby had come through that morning saying they’d booked several tables for lunch, but so far, no one had shown up. Her frustration didn’t end there. Eve felt they should be concentrating on Lana Bishop. But where to begin? Jill’s friend hadn’t come through with anything yet but Jill had said it could take her a couple of days to sift through her massive memory bank of magazine articles read over the years.
“Come on, out with it,” Jill said.
“I feel we’re lac
king purpose. Wandering around aimlessly.”
“I disagree,” Jill said. “We’ve come up with a few ideas.”
Eve gave a slow shake of her head. “We need to start asking the right questions.”
“Is that all that’s bothering you?”
“No. I don’t understand their attitude. Their lack of concern. The way they celebrated someone’s untimely death. And the social barriers don’t end there. It’s them and us. I can’t get my head around where they come from. How they live. What they do with their days. I couldn’t go through my days doing nothing the way they do.”
“You’re overanalyzing.”
Eve had to agree. “Yes, trying to look beyond surface appearances.”
“There’s nothing to it. They’re enjoying life. They function at a slower pace. A more appreciative one. They have time to smell the roses while the rest of the world rushes around.”
“So explain to me how they finance it all? Some of them are fifth generation and they don’t appear to be doing anything to increase their money. Yet we know life is more expensive now than it used to be. And there’s more to do. More to have.” Money, Eve insisted, had to be a main motivator for murder.
“What’s really worrying you?”
The information trickling in was getting mixed up with her feelings. Eve threw her hands up in the air. “I’ve never envied anyone. A part of me must resent them because I’m not willing to let them off the hook, even after turning our focus to the catering company. I’m not naturally a jealous person. And I don’t envy their easy lifestyles. But maybe... maybe I do resent their aimlessness. Do they serve a purpose?” She shrugged. “I’m really fixated with their lack of concern and sympathy. Those are basic ingredients... the makings of a coldblooded killer. Someone from the jet setter’s group has to be involved too.”
“It could be a group effort.”
“All of them in on the conspiracy?” Eve shuddered.
Jill nodded. “Like a club. A killer’s club.”