She shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe.”
“What would be the worst-case scenario if you saw him again?”
“That’s easy. Heartbreak.” She replied without a moment’s hesitation.
I nodded. “Now consider that against the best-case scenario.”
When she glanced up at me, her eyes were sparkling. “If I thought there was even a slight chance…”
“There’s your answer. I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re a strong lady. If things don’t turn out the way you want them to, you won’t fall apart. You’d hurt for a while, but in the end, you’d be fine. Besides, you won’t get him unless you take a chance.”
As she listened, she gradually regained her composure. “You’re right,” she said in her usual cocky tone. “You’re absolutely right. Like I always say, ‘Don’t be afraid of going out on a limb. That’s where the fruit is.’” She looked at me. “You would do well to remember that yourself, my friend.”
* * *
On my way home I turned on the car radio. I was concentrating on the traffic, so by the time I paid attention to the news, the announcer was halfway through his report. With a start, I realized that he was speaking about Mona.
“…was found in her Carlaw Street home last night. The police are treating this as a homicide. Until the victim’s family has been notified, the name of the victim will remain confidential. A source close to the department tells us that the police already have a suspect for this, the eleventh murder this year. We’ll have more on this later.”
My hands shook so hard I had to pull over. I made a quick right off University onto College and slid into a parking spot. Faint with nausea, I fished through my bag for my cell phone and called Toni.
“Are you listening to the radio?” she asked, before even saying hello.
“I just heard.” My voice trembled. All around me, pedestrians went on their business but I had the horrible feeling that everyone was watching me.
“Oh, God, Toni, she’s dead! What do we do?”
And of course, the one time I wished Toni did have an idea, all she said was “I have no fucking clue.”
“I think we should tell Steven.”
“No!” Toni screamed so loudly I almost dropped the phone. When she continued, it was in a calmer voice. “No, you can’t do that. I don’t want Steven to find out I had any part in this.”
“Arrest isn’t a possibility anymore, Toni. The police will arrest me.”
She disregarded this. “Swear to me you’ll never tell Steven.”
“Toni, there is no way in hell I’m risking my freedom just so you can snag Steven.”
“Okay, fine. Go ahead and tell the truth, but just don’t tell them I was there.”
After that, I couldn’t bring myself to go home. I was certain the police were there waiting for me. I glanced at my watch. It was already one o’clock. I started the car again and drove to Skinny’s. I parked two blocks away, hurried over to the restaurant and took refuge in the kitchen. All around me were the things that gave me comfort. The wonderful Wolf stove that came with the rental of this space, the myriad copper pots hanging from racks above the counters, and the cast iron pans stored on the shelves under those same counters.
I ran my hand over the worn wood of the decades-old butcher-block island facing the stove. I closed my eyes and prayed. Please, I don’t want to go to jail.
I had to keep busy. I decided to practice a new recipe I’d been thinking of adding to our menu. I went in search of onions and began to peel.
By the time two-thirty rolled around, I had caramelized-onion flatbread baking in the oven, homemade fettuccine drying on dish towels, and tomato-basil sauce simmering on the stove. The wonderful smells in the air made me feel much better. Cooking always soothed my nerves.
By now I’d managed to convince myself that the smartest thing to do was nothing. I’d had time to recall my unpleasant encounters with Crawford and Driscoll. The last thing I wanted was to endure another interrogation. It was probable that the police would question me regarding Mona’s murder. Not only was I connected to both Rob and Mona, but the same brand of knives had been used to kill both of them. The Chroma used to kill Rob had probably been a weapon of opportunity, but in Mona’s case? Somebody had gone to the trouble of purchasing that knife in order to frame me, not knowing that I only had the one. I tried to remember if I’d seen any knives in Mona’s kitchen, and if I had, what brand they were. I drew a blank.
The chances of Mona having the same brand of professional knives as I did were slim, to say the least. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure. I was being framed. But why? And by whom? Cold dread washed over me.
Toni was right. I couldn’t let anyone know I’d been in Mona’s house the night she was murdered. If anyone found out I was there, I wouldn’t be a sitting duck any longer. I’d be a cooked goose.
I was sitting at the corner table of the dining room when Toni burst in. “You can’t tell a soul,” she exclaimed, her hand still on the door handle. “No one.”
“I—”
“You told someone, didn’t you?” she snapped. “I can see it in your eyes. Who did you tell?” The door closed behind her, and she strode toward me.
“Nobody, I swear.” I raised my right hand, swearing on an invisible Bible. “Not a soul.”
“Don’t lie to me.” She sounded frantic.
“I’ve been cooking all morning. Go look in the kitchen if you don’t believe me.”
“Are you sure you didn’t tell anyone about finding Mona’s body? Not even Kim?” She asked, slightly less anxious.
“Kim? Why in the world would I tell her? As much as she acts as if she’s a close friend, trust me, she isn’t. I would never confide in her about anything, especially that.”
The door opened, and Jake walked in with Marley on his heels. “You would never confide especially what?” Jake asked.
I felt the blood drain from my face. If those two had walked in a second earlier, they would have heard everything.
At that moment the phone rang and Toni grabbed it. “Kim, so nice to hear from you.” I signaled madly that I wasn’t here. I was so not in the mood to talk to her, but Toni being Toni, did even worse. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you come over? It’s quiet. We’ll have a glass of wine.”
I rolled my eyes, and as soon as she hung up, I ripped into her. “Now why did you have to go and invite her? I wanted to talk about business. We have to come up with an idea, something that will bring in more customers, and the last thing I want to do is talk about how badly we’re doing in front of her.”
“I disagree.” Jake cocked his hip. “I think you should discuss it with her. Get her to brainstorm with you. You never know, she might help you come up with some great ideas.”
Toni looked back at me. “He’s right.” I could read the mischief on her face. “I don’t know why you don’t like her. She’s perfectly nice. Besides, you know what I always say, ‘Three heads are better than two.’”
I grimaced. “Nobody can massacre a perfectly good saying the way you do. Still, I suppose it isn’t a bad idea.”
“How many tables are booked for tonight?” Jake headed for the reservations book sitting on the table in front of Toni.
“Not one single reservation.” Toni handed it to Jake with a sour face.
“Not one?” Jake repeated in disbelief.
“That sucks, man.” Marley shook his head, sending his dreadlocks bouncing. He plugged his earphones into his ears and trudged off to the kitchen behind Jake. What the staff would do in there was anyone’s guess. Probably stand around worrying about how much longer their jobs would last.
Much as I hated to admit it, they had every reason to worry. I only wished my own worries were no more serious than losing my
job. Having a murder rap hanging over one’s head sure trumped theirs.
being rich would be nice
At ten-thirty, the restaurant was empty except for Kim, Toni and me. No one had walked in all evening. We were sitting at the corner table starting our second bottle of wine.
“Now that Mona has been killed, it’s pretty obvious she wasn’t Rob’s murderer,” I said, taking a sip of chardonnay.
Kim still knew nothing about the entire breaking-into-Mona’s-house episode. But of course, she knew I was a suspect in Rob’s murder.
“I wonder,” she said, looking pensive, “if Rob could have been involved with drugs. It’s not uncommon for doctors. They often have access to unlimited amounts of drugs. It can be tempting, especially for a young doctor with possibly thousands of dollars of debt.”
I gasped. If Kim could come up with that theory on her own, why hadn’t the police? “If he did, he certainly didn’t tell me.”
“Anyhow, don’t worry. The police will find out who did it. I’m just thankful you aren’t crazy enough to try to find the killer yourself,” Kim said, looking at me strangely—almost as if she knew something. “Whoever murdered Rob has now killed two people. Imagine how dangerous it would be to go poking around looking for a murderer.”
“I entirely agree,” Toni said, looking pointedly at me.
Looking innocent, I said. “I would never do anything like that.” Toni raised her brows. I continued. “But I do worry that as long as I’m a suspect, the police are unlikely to look elsewhere.” I looked at Kim gravely. “I wish there was something I could do. I hate to just let the police railroad me into jail.”
“She’s right,” Toni said, “innocent people go to jail all the time.”
I gulped. “Okay, enough about that,” I said, suddenly desperate to change the subject. “Let’s do something constructive instead of sitting around wringing our hands.” I turned to Kim. “Toni and I could use your advice. Business has been slow since we opened. And we need to bring in more customers. Do you have any suggestions?”
Once, months ago, I’d complained of a headache to Toni, who had quipped that the best cure was a good smack on my thumb with a hammer. “Works every time,” she’d said. Well tonight, talking about the restaurant’s future did just that. Our financial problems were the smack on the thumb I needed to forget about my real headaches—murderers, break-ins and being arrested.
Kim looked surprised. “I thought you were going great guns.”
I shook my head. “Not by a long shot. We won’t be able to keep this place open much longer unless we start bringing in some business. We wanted to throw a press party, complete with tastings, but decided to wait until the killer is apprehended.”
Toni added, “All we need is some eager reporter turning our promotional party into an article about the murder.”
“What about advertising?” Kim looked from Toni to me.
“We’ve already spent a small fortune on ads in the Toronto Star,” I replied between sips of chardonnay.
Toni looked at me. “I hope you haven’t poured everything you own into this place.”
I shook my head. “I still have my rainy-day fund.” There was no point in mentioning that it wouldn’t carry me for more than three or four months, after which I’d have to stop paying the mortgage. And that was without factoring in legal bills. Toni’s financial reality was so different from mine that there was no point in explaining.
Toni turned to Kim. “How did you build your real estate clientele?”
Kim tapped a finger on her chin and stared reflectively into space. “I didn’t have two dimes to spend on advertising, so I did the only thing I could. I got on the phone and called everyone I knew. I kept reminding people that I was ready and willing to help.”
I had an instant image of Kim stalking everyone she knew until she wore them down. I wondered if she would eventually wear me down.
She continued, “It paid off. Word got around, and I started getting lots of business. There’s no question that word-of-mouth is the best kind of advertising. But it doesn’t work overnight.”
“We need something that will bring immediate results. Otherwise we’ll need mouth-to-mouth, not word-of-mouth.” Toni lifted her glass and downed it.
Kim laughed. “What you have to do is come up with an idea. An original idea that will make Skinny’s stand out from other restaurants. Something dramatic, something that will make people take notice.”
“That’s what we hoped our name, our decor and our great food would do, but it isn’t working,” I retorted, throwing my hands up.
Toni picked up a menu and read out loud. “Crab cakes, bruschetta, squash ravioli in Asiago sauce…”
“Oh I love the squash ravioli, but the calories,” Kim said, grimacing. “Otherwise I’d eat it all the time.”
My mouth dropped open. “That’s it.” I leaped out of my chair as the idea popped into my head.
“What?” they asked simultaneously.
“You’ll love this. It’s brilliant.” I leaned forward, both palms on the table. “What we’ve got to do is change the menu.”
“What!” Toni was shocked and not too happy. “Why on earth would I love that?”
“Your menu is lovely,” Kim said. “And all your food is really, really good.”
“Yes,” I said, “But Skinny’s is just one among hundreds of other restaurants with good food. On the other hand…” I looked from Toni to Kim, making sure I had their attention. “Nobody has a low-cal gourmet restaurant,” I concluded and waited for their reaction.
They looked at me dubiously.
I sighed and continued, as if talking to two very dense pupils. “I read a report on the weight-loss industry recently and was blown away by the numbers. Don’t you girls know that it’s one of the biggest in the world?” They stared at me blankly. Clearly these two never had to worry about their figure the way I did. “People are obsessed with their weight, and the business of losing weight has ballooned into a multi-billion-dollar industry.”
Toni’s jaw dropped. “Multi-billion?”
I grinned. “I’ve got your attention now, don’t I?” I picked up the bottle of wine and refilled the glasses. “That’s right, and growing by twenty to thirty percent a year.” I crossed my arms. “When was the last time you went to a gourmet low-calorie restaurant?”
Toni and Kim looked at each other, puzzled.
“I’ve never even heard of one,” Toni finally replied.
I threw my arms up in victory. “Now do you get it? Some fine restaurants have a few low calorie options, but a whole menu…nobody has that.” I was on a roll. “I’m telling you, this is a gaping hole in the restaurant industry. That, my friends, means that anyone who opens a low-cal restaurant offering a gourmet menu could get very rich. Wouldn’t it be nice if that someone were us?”
There was a long silence, punctuated by Toni’s nails tapping on the table.
I leaned forward. “And with a name like Skinny’s on Queen, we have the perfect marketing opportunity.” I looked at them triumphantly. “We can call the new menu the Skinny Menu, and all the dishes Skinny meals made from Skinny recipes.”
“But don’t you think the word skinny might have a negative connotation in that sense?” Kim asked.
“A woman can never be too rich or too thin,” Toni remarked.
“Oh yes, she can,” I shot back. “I remember the way you used to look. But the idea here is that the recipes will be skinny—lower fat, lower calories. Healthy is in.”
“I, uh, I guess.” Toni agreed, beginning to accept the idea. “But how are we supposed to come up with good low-calorie dishes? I mean, that would mean no butter, no cream, no cheese, no olive oil. What’s left?”
“Nicky is a brilliant chef,” Kim said. “She can come up with g
reat recipes. She can probably find dozens of low-fat ingredients to replace those.” Her cell phone went off. “Uh-oh! Time to show another house,” she said, reading the screen. And a moment later, she was racing out the door.
I turned to Toni. “Since when do agents show houses at this time of night?”
“For the amount of commission that girl makes, you’d run too, no matter what time a client calls.”
“I suppose.” I changed the subject. “Now that we’re alone, what do you think of my idea?”
“I think we can’t waste time thinking about it for too long. If we decide to go low-cal, we have to start right away, while there’s still a restaurant left to save. I think you have a damn good point. If there’s a fortune for someone to make, why shouldn’t it be us?”
“Being rich would be nice,” I said, sighing. “At least I’d be able to pay my lawyer.”
this was supposed to be
a simple case
Later, I parked behind my house and walked around to the front, hoping to catch a glimpse of Mitchell. For weeks, every time I’d turned around, there he was. But since Jackie’s run-in with the skunk, the man seemed to have disappeared. For some reason, I found this annoying.
A minute later, I closed the door behind me, fully expecting Jackie to come bouncing down the hall.
“Jackie,” I called out, walking into the kitchen. There she was, curled up on the mat in front of the sink. Her food bowl, filled this morning, was still full. She hadn’t eaten all day.
“Jackie, what’s wrong, baby?” She peered at me through drowsy eyes. “Don’t you feel well?” I picked her up gently and cradled her in my arms. Could the skunk smell be making her feel sick? I’d be nauseated, too, if I had to endure that stink twenty-four hours a day. If she wasn’t feeling better by tomorrow, I’d take her to the vet.
I put her down and opened the back door. She toddled out, and a moment later, she was back. To my relief, when I offered her a liver treat, she gobbled it down in a flash. She obviously wasn’t that sick. With my concern for Jackie appeased, I walked around and opened all the second-floor windows.
Getting Skinny Page 16