Murder Love on the Menu

by Dyann Love Barr

  Her heart sank at his impersonal manner.

  Getting him back would be a lot harder than she’d first thought. Maybe she should blurt it out, but there were still issues of her family and their differing lifestyles to hammer out. She loved his family, but Jordan didn’t like country life, or kids. He always had an excuse or a valid reason for his actions. It would be a long journey toward reconciliation if he didn’t plan on treating her like an equal partner. Still, he’d apologized.

  She decided to take one baby step as well. “It’s okay. I overreacted.”

  “No, it’s not okay. I violated your space.” He moved a little closer and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close.

  A thrill, the giddy sensation she got whenever she was around him, settled deep in her belly. She settled in as close as she could. She’d take what she could get right now. The scent of his spice-and-citrus aftershave made her want to wrap her arms around him and bury her face in his chest like she used to. A quick glance upward broke her momentary lust bubble. He continued to stare straight ahead, looking completely unaffected.

  “What about now?” she asked.

  “One colleague keeping another out of the rain. Very professional, wouldn’t you say?”

  It wasn’t much, but she’d run with it. “Very.”

  The rest of the afternoon was spent at reception. Jordan had kept his distance after the funeral, seeing her to the limo, but now he circulated around the room, ignoring her.

  “Tilly.”

  She turned to find Katherine Hirschberg standing behind her. The woman’s eyes followed Tilly’s gaze.

  “He’s quite a man.”

  “That he is.” Tilly smiled, thinking of all the mad, passionate nights, the lazy Sunday afternoons, and yes, even their fights. She wanted all of that again.

  “I didn’t think I would get through the service.” Katherine’s voice cracked. She drew in a deep breath, dabbing at her eyes with her handkerchief. “Jordan told me that my love for David hadn’t died, nor my son’s for me. He said David wouldn’t want me to grieve so hard. His words were comforting.” She gave her a wan smile. “We’re looking forward to the wedding.” Much to Tilly’s shock, Katherine took Tilly’s hand in hers. “Don’t let anyone snatch him up.” She patted her hand. “He’s a keeper.”

  “I know, ma’am. I won’t.” She gave Jordan a quick sidelong glance.

  He sipped a red wine and nodded at whatever Greg Hirschberg was saying.

  She was sure it had something to do with the wedding, especially if the bride and groom were at odds. Jordan had to propose again first.

  “Good.” Katherine took her leave and greeted a producer of a popular late-night talk show.

  Tilly decided it was time to leave. The shoot for her last show was tomorrow, and after that, she, Ruby, and Sarah were heading back to Tennessee for six months.

  She left the reception without talking to Jordan again. He gave her a small wave, and that was it. Her heart was heavy and bruised.

  The sounds of Sarah and Ruby arguing about what to order for dinner greeted her. It was chaos, but she found it comforting and annoying at the same time. This was where she needed to be. This was her family, and Jordan would have to decide if he wanted to be a part of it.

  “Pizza.” Ruby stood in the living room, arms crossed with the cordless phone in her hand. Her wrinkled face was scrunched up, her eyes narrowed. “Italian sausage and black olives.”

  Sarah waved her cell phone in front of Ruby. “Fried chicken.” Her daughter had every takeout place on speed dial.

  “Give me that.” Ruby made a lunge for Sarah’s phone, but the kid had five inches on her and held it out of reach. “You know New Yorkers can’t make decent fried chicken to save their souls, but they damn well know how to make pizza.”

  Tilly decided to break the stalemate. “I vote for Chinese.” She pulled her phone from her purse. “Oh, goody. I win.”

  “Mama!”

  “I wanted pizza.” Ruby’s complaint held a touch of a whine.

  “Well, I want world peace and a place where parents don’t have bury their children.” She flopped down onto the couch and kicked off her black flats. “I don’t see that happenin’ anytime soon, so I’ll settle for Chinese.” She started to dial the Happy Lotus Garden, but Jordan’s ringtone blared to life with Yes, Chef. No, Chef. Yes, Chef. Her hands had as much finesse as canned hams as she fumbled to answer his call. He was the last person she’d expected to hear from that evening.

  “Ah—um—Jordan.”

  Two sets of expectant eyes bored into her. She waved them away and started down the hallway to her bedroom.

  “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “No. Just give me a couple of seconds.” She closed her door behind her and hoped Ruby and Sarah would have the good grace not to eavesdrop.

  “Got it. I take it you have an audience.”

  “Yes.” She settled on her bed and pushed aside Sarah’s makeup work from school. The school hadn’t been too happy to have Sarah out for a week, until Tilly explained the situation. The principal had been horrified to find out how Sarah had gone to New York on her own. “You caught us in a battle over what to have for supper. I wanted a little privacy. What did you need?”

  “Hank told me you went to Rikers to see Lena.”

  “Yes. It was pretty…grim.”

  “Would you be willing to meet with Hank and me tomorrow after you finish shooting?”

  “Sure.” The idea of seeing Jordan again sent little fingers of apprehension and excitement feathering over her body. The giddy sensation returned. “Where?”

  “My office. I’ll call to let you know when Hank arrives.”

  “Okay.”

  “See you then.” He ended the call without any how are you doing after the funeral? Nothing. Short and sweet, and very un-Jordan-like.

  She ruffled her curls and shook her head in confusion. At least he was talking to her about the investigation. It might serve as the opening she needed to begin rebuilding their relationship, if it could be healed at all.

  A few minutes later she changed into a pair of bright electric-blue pajamas and went into the living room. Both Ruby and Sarah looked up in question.

  “I’m meeting with him after my taping.” She went to the fridge and pulled out a Diet Coke. “We’re going over the case with Hank. That’s it.”

  They looked crestfallen.

  “Hey.” She clapped her hands and tried to look happy. “Let’s order something to eat. We’ve got a lot of stuff to do to get this place ready for the summer. I don’t know about you, but I don’t plan to come back in August and find a new life-form growin’ inside the fridge.” She was looking forward to some time with Sarah. There were also her restaurants in Lewistown, Memphis, and Nashville that needed her attention.

  Ruby and Sarah managed to settle on burgers and fries from the small bar and grill down the street. Dinner was blissfully free from drama. Ruby went to work on a thousand-piece jigsaw puzzle in the kitchen, while Sarah finished the last of her homework.

  Left at loose ends, Tilly decided to indulge herself in watching an old movie. She settled on An Affair to Remember. It was a sappy romance she’d seen several times. It never failed to make her cry with sorrow and joy.

  The sound and smell of corn popping filled the air. Ruby came out with a huge bowl of popcorn and a box of tissues.

  “That movie is a three-hanky job.” She settled on the couch next to Tilly. “Kind of reminds me of you and Jordan. All those misunderstandin’s, the way he finds out why she never met him at the Empire State Building.”

  “I’ve never been to the Empire State Building.” She’d been in New York for three years now and had never made the trek to the famous landmark. A fear of heights made it impossible.

  Ruby pointed at the screen. “Neither had she.”

  “I’m not crippled.”

  “That’s a matter of opinion.”

  Sarah ambled in
from the kitchen with a soda. “What are you watching?”

  “One of the best romances around.” Ruby grabbed a handful of popcorn. “Very true to life.”

  “I remember this movie.” She sat next to Ruby and grabbed the bowl away, along with a couple of tissues. “Just in case.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Tilly sat in the empty studio. She’d finished the last show of the season, and she was tired. Bone-weary, soul-aching tired. All she had to do was to get off the bar stool where her guests sat while she cooked. It took a bit of effort, one foot in front of the other. A grumble from her stomach reminded her she hadn’t eaten anything except the few bites she’d tasted while doing her show. Her appetite hadn’t been the best, and her stomach roiled at the idea of food. It would feel better once she’d eaten.

  There would be food in the green room.

  She was right. The small refrigerator under the kitchen counter contained fruit and cheese, along with champagne and energy drinks. She snagged a bottle of sparkling water. She’d leave the energy drinks for Tom Green. He lived on them.

  She pulled out a block of white cheddar and carved off a piece with a small, very sharp paring knife. Soon, a bit of fruit and crackers, along with the cheese, filled her plate. Her tired feet took her back to the couch. Once she was settled, her stomach growled with anticipation.

  The first bite tasted like sawdust; the second went down a bit easier.

  It didn’t ease the sadness or hurt, but the last thing she needed was to get ill because of her downhearted emotional state. She settled her head back against the couch, closed her eyes, and took another bite of cheese and crackers. The sound of the door opening ruined her moment of solitude.

  Gretchen stood with a blank look her face. She paused, as if deciding whether to come in or not. Finally she walked into the green room. “Hi.” She sat next to Tilly. “It’s been a hectic two or three days, hasn’t it?” A frown puckered her square face. “Are you feeling okay? You seemed a little down during the taping.”

  Tilly wasn’t prepared for Gretchen reaching out to stroke her arm. She remembered her mother objecting to her fawning over her. Lena had said pretty much the same thing. Now her. It gave Tilly the creeps. On a scale of one to ten on the mojo meter, this hit eleven.

  She shifted in her seat to face Gretchen, making it difficult for Gretchen to touch her.

  “I…uh, I’ve been busy here at the studio and with the investigation. My daughter and foster mother dropped in unexpectedly for a visit.” This was a perfect opportunity to tell Gretchen about the breakup, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

  Lying by omission.

  Lord, she was getting as bad as Jordan. She winced at the memory of the words she’d thrown at him for doing the very same thing. Irony piled on top of irony. “I haven’t seen them for so long. Sarah got homesick for me.”

  Tilly’s phone rang. “Speak of the devil.” She hit the call button and turned away to take the call. “What’s up, sweet pea?”

  “Mama, I know we’re going back home on Sunday, but is there any chance we can check out prom dresses tomorrow?”

  She thought a minute and debated on toeing a hard line or cutting Sarah some slack. She’d scared the life out of Tilly by her impromptu trip to New York, but it was time to pick her battles. Sarah felt horrible about what she’d done to Ruby and had apologized for that as well as her snotty attitude.

  “Okay, but you will have to pay for half of it out of your babysitting money.”

  “Thank you, Mama.” She heard a yip of excitement, and the line went dead.

  Tilly glanced at the ended call. “You’re welcome.”

  “I couldn’t help but overhear her part of the conversation.” Gretchen patted her on the shoulder again. “You’re a good mother.”

  “I don’t know about that.” Tilly fiddled with a piece of cheese. “She sometimes thinks I’m the mother from hell. Ruby tells me I don’t take her out to the woodshed often enough. But we have our moments.” She gave up on the idea of eating and put her plate on the coffee table.

  “I’m sure that’s an exaggeration.” Gretchen pushed a stray lock of her unruly frizz behind her ear. A glint caught Tilly’s eye. A small speck of purple glimmered against the sleeve of Gretchen’s navy blue sweater.

  Purple glitter?

  Tilly’s heart raced. Her breath grew thin. There had to be a logical explanation for the glitter. She couldn’t see Gretchen as the killer. It couldn’t be—but the glitter was there.

  Gretchen caught the direction of Tilly’s gaze. “What’s wrong?”

  She shook her head and smiled. “Nothin’. I noticed a little bit of glitter on the back of your sleeve.”

  “Oh?” Gretchen turned her arm akimbo to look at the spot. “Glitter bomb.” She grinned. “Mina stopped by my office, and I helped with her art project. I always keep stuff to do crafts in the credenza. The child isn’t happy unless we put at least a pound of glitter on everything she makes.”

  Now the glitter made sense. “Sarah was the same way in grade school, except her thing was sequins on her clothin’. It wouldn’t do unless she had enough bling to blind the teacher and all the other kids.”

  “I worry about Mina.” Gretchen’s voice held a wistful, ethereal quality.

  Goose bumps prickled Tilly’s skin. “How is she doin’?”

  “Okay. She doesn’t miss David all that much, which is a blessing. He was a lousy father—never made time for her.”

  “That’s so sad.”

  “Mina’s better off,” Gretchen snapped. “Sienna was abused by David. Did you know that?”

  Tilly became more uncomfortable by the second. “I’m not sure I should be hearin’ this.”

  “Oh, he never did anything beyond a slap at first, but the mental torture was horrible. He had his flings, right and left. He enjoyed telling Sienna about them, but let another man look at her and he screamed bloody murder.” Gretchen’s soft, conversational tone added to her growing suspicion that Gretchen might be the killer.

  Jordan had been right. Why had she not seen it? Could she have been blinded by her sympathy for the woman?

  “Sienna was a virtual prisoner in their big, beautiful apartment. David wanted her to have an abortion when they found out she was pregnant.” Gretchen’s jaw hardened. “She refused.”

  “She seems happy now.”

  “I helped hide her while she got a divorce.” Gretchen smiled, but her eyes were unfocused, as if reliving the memory. “He even tried to intimidate her afterward, but once she met Chatan, it was all over for David.”

  “I’m glad they continue to be a part of your family.” Tilly chose her words carefully.

  Madness grew in Gretchen’s eyes.

  Tilly didn’t want to do anything to set her off.

  “That little girl is my life.” Gretchen gave her a wistful smile. “I’d do anything for her—but you’re a mother, you understand what I’m saying.”

  “Yes.”

  Gretchen looked down at Tilly’s plate. “That looks good. I only had a bagel with my coffee this morning.” She went to the cheese and fruit tray Tilly had left out and picked up a small plate from the stack on the counter. She sliced some cheese and selected a few strawberries.

  Tilly pulled her phone from her chef jacket’s pocket when Gretchen’s back was turned and texted Jordan. She knew he and Hank should be in his office by now. Her fingers flew over the keys. Gretchen with me in green room. Has purple glitter on her clothes. Acting strange. I think she’s the killer. She hit send.

  “What are you doing?”

  Tilly looked up and slipped her phone back into her pocket. Her mouth went dry. The little fingers of bad mojo squeezed her heart. “Oh, this? I forgot to tell Sarah when I would be home. I need to get some last-minute work done before we leave for Tennessee.”

  Damn, I’m gettin’ good at lyin’.

  She licked her lips, hoping Gretchen couldn’t see how nervous she was.


  “I wish my mother was like you.” Gretchen’s comment came out of the blue.

  “Oh?”

  “She could care less if I live or die. I’m afraid I’m a big disappointment. I’m not pretty—I take after Father, so that’s his fault. Horrible genes on that side of the family. I got all of them.” She set her plate on the coffee table next to Tilly’s and settled back onto the couch. Her hands were folded in her lap, but Tilly could see the sharp point of the little paring knife that lay underneath. “I tried everything to get my parents’ attention.”

  It was hard to think fast with the knife in Gretchen’s hand. “They must realize what a great job you’ve done lately?”

  “Not really. The only thing Father can talk about is David’s death and your wedding. He said it fell into my lap. Can you believe that?”

  This was definitely not the time to tell Gretchen that she’d broken up with Jordan. Her main objective was to get out of the green room. She prayed Jordan got her message.

  “Jordan and I know how hard you’ve worked.”

  Gretchen smiled, but a light of insanity lurked in the back of her eyes. “Yes, I have.” Her gaze traveled around the room. “We need to redecorate in here. Don’t you think so?”

  “It could use a touch-up.” She stood and took two steps toward the door.

  “Where are you going?” The singsong question slithered over Tilly’s nerves. She had to get out of here.

  “I…uh, I thought I’d get some more cheese and crackers.”

  “No, no. Sit down and talk to me.” Gretchen patted the seat next to her. “It’s been so long since I’ve spoken to anyone, one-on-one. It’s too bad Lena is in prison. I miss our little get-togethers. But she said horrible things to me.” The short blade was no longer hidden. “Why would she do that?”

  Tilly sat. She cleared her throat, thankful she hadn’t hurled her snack on Gretchen. “Well, I suppose her hot temper got the better of her.”

  Gretchen nodded. “Too true. She is prone to tantrums, but I still miss her. It’s her fault she’s locked up. You know that, don’t you?”