The Chef at the Water's Edge

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The Chef at the Water's Edge Page 8

by Kee Patterbee


  As he further explained his suspicions, she grew even more skeptical of the police and coroner’s reports. When Borg had finished, Hannah knew that she was on the right track. “I couldn’t agree with you more. It all seems to lack something. In fact, that’s why I’m here. I was hoping you could help me fill in some blanks.”

  “I’ll do what I can. The memory is not what it used to be. Meds and all. Thinking about that case, sometimes at night, I wrestle with it in my head. Kind of like the fish that got away.”

  The man was prone to metaphors. It was something that Hannah could appreciate. “Well, maybe you and I can reel it in together.”

  “Deal.”

  “You were among the first on the scene. What can you tell me about the body’s condition?”

  “Well, to me it seemed she had to have died before she hit the water. She’d hit that post with a lot of force. The wound was considerable. All along the forehead and side of her face.” Borg drew an imaginary line along his face for comparison. “I remember thinking, ‘If it’s this bad on the outside …’ Borg began coughing. Hannah rose to go get a nurse, but he waved her down. “It’ll pass. It always does.” A few moments later, he proved himself right. “Now, where were we? Oh, yes. The body. The bruising showed through, even though she was pale and rather bluish. It’s common in water victims that have floated for some time. Anyway, there was no way for me to know if there was water in her lungs. I’m sure there was some. Question is, was it enough?” Borg shrugged his shoulders.

  “Well, I do know that after a person dies and the air is gone from their lungs, water does get in.”

  “Yeah. I read that somewhere. Just before the case. New finding. But it takes a long time. Many, many hours as I understand it. I just keep coming back to the fact that that water was so damn cold. I remember because it wasn’t natural for the time of year. She had been in there about seven and a half hours by the time the fellow who worked the grounds pulled her to the bank. And then the coroner concludes her death was by accidental drowning after hitting her head on the frame support. Phhpptt. I don’t buy it. Not then. Not now.”

  “What did you do after you made your initial report?”

  “You understand I had no hard proof. Just my gut instinct. Something you develop over years of police work.”

  Though she said nothing, Hannah understood this. Although investigations are fact based, experience comes into play. And after twenty-nine years on the force, she was following her instinct that the retired lawman’s ‘gut’ was dead on.

  “I knew there was something not quite right. I tried to rattle a few cages, family, the staff, but no one would budge. Pressure started to mount for me to close the case. They wanted closure given who she was. With no evidence, I had to wrap it up and move on. Even in a small town like Zebulon, there are other crimes to handle.” Looking at Hannah, Borg smiled. “But I’m glad someone decided to look into it. That woman, someone murdered her. As sure as I’m sitting here, someone took her life.”

  Hannah returned Borg’s smile. “Thank you. You’ve been a big help.” As she rose to leave, she asked, “Was there anyone you wanted to look more closely at but never got the chance?”

  “Yeah. The manager.”

  “Jack Miller?”

  “That’s the one. He’s a piece of work. For a man who had lost his number one client, he showed a decided lack of concern, sympathy, or mourning. She made him millions, but he seemed unaffected. That surprised me because when you lose your bread and butter, it should affect you, at least a little. He came across as arrogant. Thought he was irresistible to women.” Borg paused for a second, then shook his head and coughed hard. “I don’t know. People react to death in different ways. There was nothing specific. I just never cared for his sort of people.”

  Hannah leaned toward the man and pointed at his abdomen. “What does that ‘gut’ of yours say?”

  Borg chuckled. “Well, I can’t say he is a killer but I can say he didn’t care about helping us get to the bottom of this incident. My unofficial opinion was that he was trouble of some sort. You’re going to find his fingerprints in the pie at some point along the way.”

  “Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome. Would you do a fellow investigator a favor?”

  “Name it.”

  “Find out who did it and then let me know. After a year, I could use a good night’s rest. I don’t get many of those these days.”

  “Will do.” And with that, Hannah exited.

  Chapter 9

  “Well, well. Look what the cat drug in,” Louie called from the kitchen as Hannah opened the door. “We were just about to send out the posse.”

  Full of licks and love, Critic greeted her. After removing her jacket and hat, she provided him with the attention he sought. Making her way to the kitchen, she found her friends putting out food. “Just in time,” Buster said with a wink. “Spaghettiiiiiiiiii!”

  “Ooooh. Is that garlic bread? Smells awesome.”

  Taking a seat, Hannah watched as Louie, Cate, and Buster scurried around the kitchen. Feeling the weight of the day’s activities, she stretched and rubbed her eyes as Cate sat a plate before her. “You look beat.”

  “Long drive.”

  “Did you find out anything?”

  “Well, the police report was interesting more for what it didn’t say than what it did. The man who signed off on the report, Alexander Borg, retired after this case and moved. He’s living at a cancer center north of here. That’s where I’ve been all day. Getting some answers.”

  “Sorry to hear that,” Louie said, placing a salad bowl on the table. “That’s a tough haul. Anything come of it?”

  “Not from the report. I didn’t expect it to. Remember, as far as the law goes, the ruling is that it’s an accident. There was no criminal investigation.”

  “What about this Borg fellow?”

  “Well, he’s interesting. He suspects a cover up. But at the time, he couldn’t do anything about it. Zebulon is a town of limited resources. He had no proof and was under pressure to close the case.” Hannah looked over to Louie and paused. “He thinks she was dead before she hit the water.”

  Louie stood up straight, took in a noticeable breath, but said nothing. His face was almost expressionless as he turned back toward the kitchen counter. Although she had offered nothing in the way of evidence, her statement had hit him hard. The fact that yet another person suspected foul play in the death of his beloved Julia was enough to upset him. Whether his concern was the confirmation of the way she passed, or the chance that he had something to do with it, Hannah was uncertain. She did not want to consider the latter. She knew she had to consider an inkling of a possibility. Let the facts play out, she reminded herself, no matter how painful the consequence may be.

  “This was a police report, right?” Cate asked, placing a large bowl of spaghetti on the center of the table. “What about the coroner’s report?”

  “I haven’t gotten hold of it yet. Nor a detailed one. Or a tox report. A summary of both findings carried over into the police report, but it is of limited value. I got a copy on my thumb drive, much to the chagrin of the police receptionist. Y’all can take a look at it if you want.”

  Looking at the spaghetti, Hannah licked her lips. Noticing this, Buster pushed the bowl toward her. “Dig in.” She dug into the steaming pile, heaping a large mound on her plate. “I’m starving,” she said as a large smile scrolled across her face. “What was the day like over at the event?”

  “Loved it!” Buster answered, passing Hannah a plate full of bread. “Jazlyn was there and gave us passes to Friday’s taping of the show. She asked me to come.”

  Poking around her salad, Cate stabbed a small cherry tomato. She lifted it up to study it as she spoke. “That surprises me. She sent mixed signals, didn’t she?” She popped the small red food bit into her mouth.

  “I suppose. She was all flirty, but then that Miller guy showed up. ” Buster stared at his pla
te. “I figured I mis-read the situation but then she gave me her card, now the passes, and now a personal invite.” His eyes darted around the table. “Got any Parmesan?”

  Louie nodded and pointed to the refrigerator. “Second shelf. In a blue container. Already grated.” Returning to the conversation, he twirled his fork in the noodles. “I’d be careful of that one. She wants to get a piece of you. When she’s done, she’ll spit you out.”

  “Yeah. Yeah. I get it. No one trusts her.”

  “Just watching out for you, darling,” Cate called out as she once again took on her salad.

  Hannah grinned at them all. Despite having conflicted reservations about Louie, she loved the company of this group. That created the guilt she felt about including her new friend on the list of suspects. They were easy to understand and even easier to get along with. Even when teased like Buster, there was a sense of camaraderie. It made her determined to remain focused. Especially when it came to her new friend. Glancing over at him, she thought, I pray you are as nice as you seem. Otherwise, I might lose a friend or two. The thought disturbed her, so she pushed it aside for the moment. “Did anyone see Vera?”

  “She wasn’t around,” Cate responded. “I think they have her out of site to let Jazlyn shine.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Louie added reaching for the bread. Taking a piece, he continued, gesturing toward the living room. “Her resemblance to Julia is clear to you because of the pictures you just saw. But most people just know Julia as she was when she was on the show. Not from her college years. She looked different then. However, if people saw her, with all the retrospectives going on, they might see her as an imitation Julia. A publicity stunt. The potential backlash, well, it might just upset Asa’s plans.”

  Hannah noticed that Louie never said the word ‘died’ or referred to it in any way. He had come to terms with Julia’s death in many ways. But that one final step, that one last admission, kept her alive for him.

  Sitting back down with a tub of cheese in hand, Buster applied a generous amount to his meal. “Women have this ability to change their looks. I never could figure it out.”

  “Jedi mind trick,” Cate said, raising her eyebrows for emphasis and causing everyone to chuckle. After gulping down another bit of salad, she proceeded. “I got the statements you emailed me, by the way. While you were off and about today, I read them. For the most part, all the alibis seemed air tight, including the staff.”

  Swallowing the last bite of her bread, Hannah both made a statement and broached a question to all. “Well, someone had to do it. Theories?”

  Louie was the first to give an answer, and it did not stray far from the usual.

  “My money’s on Asa. He fought with Julia. Left for a mysterious meeting with some unidentified individual. Claims he passed out and never noticed she wasn’t in bed. Plus, it’s a high probability that he had an affair. And with his niece, for God’s sake. That’s creepy enough. His story’s got more holes than Buster’s Swiss cheese there.”

  “Swiss? I thought it was Parmesan?”

  “Check the labels, dude. Anyway. The man’s got enough money to arrange anything. And he’s controlling as all get out.”

  Hannah was willing to consider Louie’s theory, if just to find its flaws. “All right, then. Why? What’s his motivation?”

  The question caught Louie off guard, a symptom of having not thought his theory through. Again, his jealousy was shining through and clouding his judgment.

  “Uh, well, let’s see. If he had an affair, maybe Julia wanted out of the marriage. Maybe he was afraid of a messy, expensive divorce. It would go against his controlling nature…”

  Louie stopped mid-sentence. His sudden halt caused Buster and Cate to follow his gaze to Hannah. “No ring,” she muttered. Cate looked at her friend as a look of discovery rolled over her friend’s face. “What?”

  “No ring. She didn’t have a ring on her finger when they found her. Get it?”

  Everyone shook their head no. Sighing, Hannah proceeded to explain. “When I read the police report, valuables listed were a necklace with a key. No ring. No wedding ring.”

  This intrigued Cate. “She would have had a ring. No doubt. Married to a man like Asa, he would have insisted. And it would have been a doozy, too. To show status.”

  Louie agreed. “It was. Huge. I remember there was an article on it at some point. Just about the ring. Something like 21 carats.”

  Hannah leaned back in her chair. “But it wasn’t listed as stolen.”

  “So she didn’t have it on,” Cate considered. “That’s not something you just take off and toss into the jewelry box.”

  “Unless you’re getting a divorce,” Buster tossed out.

  “I agree. It may be something else but given the rumors. The fight. Asa’s meeting. This is something I need to check into.”

  “See. Now that’s what I’m talking about.” Louie’s smug look once again gave up his distaste of Asa.

  “Just because they may have, and I stress may have, been getting a divorce doesn’t mean he murdered his wife. There are plenty of other possibilities.”

  Hannah’s rebuttal stung Louie enough that his aggressive stance came to a screeching halt. He slumped back into is chair in a huff. Satisfied that she had backed him down, she continued. “Cate? Best guess.”

  “You got me. Equal possibilities all around. Asa would be good for it except for the vindication of every part of his story other than whom he met. Whatever he told the police, they didn’t find it worth mentioning. Even that doesn’t scream murder, just adultery. Jazlyn says she was at a party. A lot of people saw her, but there was a lot of alcohol tossed about. She could have slipped out at any point. Then there’s Miller. He stopped by and dropped off some stuff. But no one saw him leave. He was out later that night with witnesses, but if he timed it right, there was a small window of opportunity.”

  “What about Vera?” Buster stopped eating. He tapped on the table, emphasizing his point. “She was the only person who heard the fight at the studio? I mean come on. That place is crawling with people. There’s something she’s not telling us.”

  Hannah listened. She asked for her friend’s theories because each offered a unique perspective. This served to freshen her own. “What would she get out of that?”

  “An opportunity. Considering the handling of this case, I doubt they did little more than confirm with her roommate that she was home. I bet that if you look hard enough, you might find there were plenty of opportunities to slip out. Just like Miller. Who knows? Maybe it was a combo. Asa met Vera. Vera met Miller. Miller met Asa. They all met.”

  “Or Jazlyn could have met with any one of them. Or all of them, as well,” Cate added.

  “Yeah. I suppose.”

  Having finished off most of the food on her plate, Hannah took a few remaining noodles and slipped them under the table. Critic had been waiting for a tidbit, and she rewarded the hound’s patience. He gulped down the treat and accepted her following pat on the head. “Well, that’s enough for me right there,” Hannah emphasized. “I’m stuffed.” Looking to Cate, she queried, “You said all the staff’s alibis were good?”

  “Yeah. They weren’t in-depth statements, by any means. But for the most part the police ruled them out. It was just the groundskeeper. Peter Grimes, I think his name was. Mr. and Mrs. Staples--”

  “The cook and the valet, right?”

  “Umm hmm. And a day guard named Jonas .… darn. Hang on. Let me get my laptop.” Cate rose and disappeared in the other room. Louie and Buster seized the opportunity to refresh everyone’s drinks. Hannah took the opportunity to continue spoiling Critic, who was glad for both the attention and the treats.

  “You’re going to make him fat,” Louie half complained.

  “It’s not just him,” Hannah argued, patting her stomach. Cate reappeared with laptop open and ready, sitting it in front of Hannah. “Here.”

  Hannah read the names loud enough for e
veryone to hear. “Peter Grimes. Leona and Homer Staples. The security guard, Jonas Grumby. That’s pretty much it.” As the group pondered in silence, each had their own thoughts on the situation. Hannah furrowed her brow as usual. “We must be missing something. The staff is straight up.”

  After a moment, Louie looked up. “Well, maybe we are thinking too inside. That it’s just internal.”

  “If you got any ideas, let’s entertain them.”

  “What about Xabiere Dauphin and Timothy Holloway?”

  “The fired chefs?”

  “They did threaten both Julia and Asa.”

  Cate interjected. “The police did question them about the threat before she died. No filed charges. After, Holloway had already taken a job out of the country. Some fancy hotel in Germany. Dauphin was in the hospital recovering from an accident. He busted himself up in some kind of fall at his apartment.”

  “So this Xabiere stuck around, even after Asa let him go.”

  ”So it would seem. If you call laid up in the hospital sticking around.”

  Hannah gave a one-corner smile. “I do.”

  Cate shrugged. “All righty, then.”

  Turning to Buster, Hannah grabbed the end crust from his garlic bread and gave it to Critic. “I take it you called Vera about the ‘date’, so she knew not to show.”

  “I did.”

  “Good, I’m glad you got my text, I wasn’t sure you would as I was way out in the boonies,” she laughed. “I’m beat and need to let this all go for a bit. Any agenda for tonight?”

  Louie, who had been looking in the fridge, turned toward the group. In his hands was a huge cake. “Desert! Italian Crème Cake.”

  Hannah, Cate and Buster’s mouths fell open. “Before I do anything tomorrow,” Hannah confessed, “I’m going for a run.”

  Chapter 10

 

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