Thyme for Love (Cooking Up Trouble Book 1)

by Pamela S. Meyers

  I laughed and shook my head. “You never give up do you?”

  “Well, it is away from work. Kendall can’t tell you what to do on your own time.”

  “It’s a girls’ night out. One of Candy’s friends is meeting us there.” I looked at my watch. “I really need to leave. See you later.”

  As I drove in from Shore Drive after shopping, the van full of food supplies, Karl waited for me with the wheeled platform cart, looking more like he belonged in a corral than a turn-of-the-century manor.

  With his help the cart was quickly loaded, and I stood by, while he angled the overloaded dolly through the kitchen door

  “Want some help putting all this junk away?”

  I grinned. “You’ll soon be stuffing this so-called junk into your big mouth and asking for more. I’d love some assistance since we have that staff meeting in less than a half-hour.”

  He chuckled. “I was just messin’ with ya. I’ll hand off and you shelve.”

  We soon had a two-person assembly line going. A few minutes into the process he asked, “You believe the rumors that Ramón was done in by one of his ladies?”

  “Rumors rarely turn out to be true.”

  “But this one makes sense. I think his sister, Isabel, did it.”

  And they said only women liked to gossip. Marc couldn’t have called that meeting any sooner. “Aren’t you afraid of pointing fingers at innocent people by naming names?”

  “April, I don’t get you. You’re the only woman in this place who hasn’t loved to speculate about this. Is it gossip if it’s true?”

  “But you don’t know it’s true. Do you?”

  “No, but Isabel sure had a reason from what I hear. Correction. From what I know.” He handed me a bag of sugar. “She’d been hitched once before, but married up last time. Man, I’d love to spend some time on her husband’s spread. The dude owns a huge cattle ranch in New Mexico. I hear he was quite a roper in his day.”

  It seemed if Karl wasn’t busy spreading rumors, his only other topic of choice was rodeo. “How did a roper get to be so rich? Couldn’t be by winning at rodeos.”

  “Raising and breeding stock. Big money in genetics these days. That’s my dream.”

  “How did he and Isabel meet?” At least we weren’t talking about Ramón’s cause of death anymore.

  “Through her job with an international bank. She’s got old James wrapped around her finger tighter than a dally rope. She wouldn’t say, ‘I do,’ until he built her a mansion in Albuquerque. Wanted to be in town. Now a foreman runs the operation while James sits in his office and counts his money.”

  “How do you know so much about her?”

  He tapped his right ear with his index finger. “A guy can learn a lot minding his business and fixin' what needs fixin'.”

  A country-western tune rang out and he pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “I gotta take this.” He stepped into the kitchen and pulled the door closed behind him, but it didn’t latch.

  “Why you calling me during work hours?” Karl’s lowered voice filtered into the pantry. “You got the message right. A grand on Star to buck off the rider. And no to the other question. You know I can’t play the bulls. That’s my event.”

  Stunned, I placed a bag of sugar on the shelf.

  Karl stepped into the pantry. “Sorry about that.”

  “No problem.” No problem at all, except it appeared our resident handyman liked to gamble and didn’t mind doing so on rodeos. Should I say something or not? It seemed prudent to wait. “Back to Isabel. Do they have children?”

  “Nope. What I don’t get is why she still works. Without kids she could do whatever she wants.” He pushed his black baseball cap back on his head. “If it were me, I’d be buckin’ bulls all week long, get me into the PBR.”

  “PBR?” I came down off the step stool and studied his cap. “Like what it says on your hat?”

  “Yeah. Professional Bull Riders. Win the finals, and it’s easy street from then on.”

  “Some people work because they enjoy it, Karl.”

  He gaped at me. “I’d never be that crazy. Give me enough money and it’s bye-bye Rescaté.”

  I laughed. “And on to the PPR no doubt?” I followed him into the kitchen.

  “PBR.” He picked up a box of shredded wheat, along with a bag of fresh veggies and fruit.

  “That bird eats better than some people.”

  “Maybe Ana gave him to Ramón hoping he’d copy the parrot’s diet.”

  “Ana?”

  “His fiancée, or I should say his ex-fiancée. Pedro was delivered two days after Ramón broke their engagement.”

  “But why would she do that? Didn’t someone say the other day he broke up with her?”

  “Maybe to drive him crazy. I’m about ready to stuff a sock in his beak if he says, ‘Ana loves you,’ one more time. And if he isn’t saying that, he’s squawking all the time. Good chatting with ya. You’re easy to talk to. See ya at the meeting.”

  As he left, I grinned at the image of a sock hanging from Pedro’s mouth. But funny as it was, I had to wonder why Ramón kept the bird.

  At exactly 3:00 the entire Rescaté staff crowded into the conference room off the reception area. Kendall sat at the head of the long table. His chest thrust forward, he surveyed the crowd as a hint of a satisfied smile filled his features. To smile at all seemed disingenuous to me, but then what more could I expect from him? Marc sat to the board president’s right, unsmiling, his hands clasped on the table, while Bob sat at Kendall’s left, wearing a pensive expression.

  Kendall stood, and a hush fell over the room, ending the pockets of whispered conversations around the table. He dropped his gaze to the tabletop then looked up, his face expressionless. “Thanks for coming everyone. We’ve all experienced a terrible shock these past days. I know I have. I don’t want to take up anymore of your valuable time than necessary, so I’ll get right to the point. It’s come to my attention that speculations regarding Ramón’s death are circulating. All it takes is one idea to be expressed and it takes on a life of its own.” He gave a pointed stare to Rosa, whose face reddened.

  “We—that is Marc, Bob and I—want to assure you that we have taken the matter seriously. This morning I spoke with Dr. Fuller, who is also the county coroner, and he assured me that all signs point to the cause of death being cardiac arrest. Also, Marc and our newest employee, April Love, inspected the apartment for any signs of a struggle. Nothing was found out of order.

  Now, we have a memorial service to honor our fallen leader coming up. I ask that we put this pointless chatter to rest and concentrate on that. Any questions?”

  Everyone looked around, but no one spoke. Marc caught my gaze and held it for a split second as if to say ‘don’t mention the pills.’ Did he really think I would? I wanted the rumors to go away as much as anyone.

  “Good. Then let’s all get back to work. Thanks for your time. Marc and Bob, I need to talk to you two alone, so please stay.”

  Except for some low whispers, everyone filed out noiselessly. I waited until the only ones remaining were the king and his court and fell behind Rosemary.

  “April, thanks for assisting Marc this morning.”

  I stopped and faced Kendall. “Not a problem. Happy to help.”

  He dismissed me with his eyes and I left, glad not to be a part of the “in crowd.”

  Kitty glanced up from her newspaper as I entered the sunroom. “I never thought you’d get here. Didn’t you get my calls?”

  I took out my cell and turned it on. “Sorry. I shut my phone off. It must be important if you called twice.” I adjusted the instrument to vibrate and returned it to my pocket.

  “It was. But when you didn’t call I figured you were busy.”

  Since I had exactly ten minutes to change into jeans and leave for the Apple, I sat on the couch arm. “So, why did you call?”

  “I’ve been thinking about the rumors that Ramón was killed. Didn’t you say
you overheard him in an argument on the phone the day before he died?”

  I slid down the arm and onto the couch cushion. How had that totally slipped my mind? “Yes.”

  “What did he say? Do you recall?”

  “Something to the effect that if money wasn’t in his account soon and something happened to him, his people would know who to blame.” I stared at my aunt “Oh my word, do you think?”

  She scooted to the edge of the chintz-covered cushion. “The next morning that person in the orange baseball cap ran you down, and then dropped a bottle of pills like those you found on Ramón’s dresser.”

  “Something that looked like a pill bottle.” Coincidence. Had to be.

  “Mind my asking what type of pills Ramon’s was taking?”

  “Ginkgo Biloba.”

  “I know that. I mean were they tablets?”

  “Capsules, I think.”

  Her face blanched. “I was afraid of that.”

  I checked my watch. In exactly five minutes I needed to be behind the wheel, heading to the Apple. “Afraid of what? That they were capsules?”

  “When you were a toddler. Someone in the Chicago area substituted bottles of poisoned painkillers with bottles already on store shelves. No one suspected poison at first when people started showing symptoms more related to heart attack or stroke. Several people died before they discovered the capsules contained poison. I can’t remember what the killer used. If everyone knew Ramón took those Gin . . . Gango . . .however you say it, it would be a perfect way to poison him.”

  I slumped deeper into the couch. “I’m not even supposed to be discussing this. Kendall told the staff this afternoon to stop passing rumors around. Besides, Doc Fuller, who happens to be the coroner, said he died of a heart attack and he should know.”

  She blew a puff of air through her lips. “Coroner, shmoroner. Doc’s not exactly the sharpest fork in the toolbox. He told Eileen Waddle she had an upset stomach. Last January she delivered seven pounds of indigestion. As for Kendall, I’m not a Rescaté employee and I’ll talk about it if I want to. You just listen.”

  My sentiments exactly, but I wasn’t ready to be fired. Still I was at home and not work, and this was a private conversation. “If Doc Fuller is that bad, how come he’s the coroner and still practicing medicine?”

  “For years he was the only doctor in town and for some, old habits die hard. Newcomers go to him because he doesn’t lay it on the line. He probably told Ramón to cut back a little on the sweets.”

  “And the coroner job?”

  “The last time we had an incident in Canoga County was ten years ago when Joe Blanchett shot his brother over a gambling debt. It’s hard to make a mistake when the guy is full of a half-dozen bullet holes. What if Ramón mistreated a Rescaté employee and she decided to repay him?”

  “But how would that fit into the conversation I overheard?”

  “It doesn’t. And that’s what’s troubling me about the theory.”

  I rubbed my temples. “Well, Candy Neer was almost fired by Ramón until Marc stepped in.”

  Her eyes brightened. “Good for him. He’s a fine Christian man. You should see him with the middle-school boys at church.”

  My heart warmed as the memory of him talking to the boy last Sunday came to mind. Working with kids was a nice switch for him. I wrestled my thoughts away from dangerous territory and back to the subject. “But then Ramón cut Candy’s hours, making her ineligible for medical insurance. She had some sort of family plan that included her disabled mother.”

  Kitty’s eyes sparked. “What a scoundrel. I’m surprised she doesn’t look for another job. Do you suppose he’s been giving bad recommendations for her?”

  “It’s worth considering. But, really, Kitty, I think we need to table this conversation. I had one with Karl the handyman before the meeting—or rather he had one with me—discussing another possible killer. This seems to be turning into a virtual Clue game. Next thing I hear will be that it was Colonel Mustard in the ballroom with a candlestick.”

  Her features dissolved into a frown. “But what if it’s true?”

  Didn’t Karl ask me the same thing an hour ago? “There’s a saying that goes, don’t borrow trouble before it happens. It’s good advice. Ramón’s memorial service is Wednesday and after that I’m sure his sister will bury him. This will all soon be forgotten. I stood and moved toward the door. “Right now I need to change and hit the Apple.”

  Chapter 14

  A large red apple outside the rustic building assured me I’d found the right place. I guided my car into a parking slot next to a Ford pickup. The lot held only a smattering of cars, but it was still early. If only I could rid myself of the ache pressing against my gut that Kitty was buying into those rumors. Kendall could try squelching them as far as the Rescaté staff was concerned, but he had no control over my aunt.

  The crunch of wheels turning over gravel broke into my thoughts, and I looked to my left. A blue pick-up had pulled in next to me. A man wearing jeans and a blue work shirt jumped to the ground and ambled toward the entrance, I grabbed my purse and let myself out of the car.

  Inside the establishment, the man I saw was nowhere in sight. I took a moment to let my eyes adjust to the low lighting. A perky redhead who looked no older than eighteen approached, menus in hand, and asked how many in my party.

  “I think three. Do you know if Candy Neer is here?”

  “Sure is. Follow me.”

  We entered a dining area where several booths and tables were already filled. I followed the hostess, expecting her to stop next to a table, but we ended up in the bar at the far end of the space. “She’s over there.” The girl gestured to a far corner.

  A waving hand on the other side of the room caught my attention. I returned the gesture and headed Candy’s way, stepping past a couple guys.

  “Hey, you made it.”

  I returned Candy’s grin. “Did you doubt me?”

  “I wasn’t sure.” She turned to the petite brunette standing next to her. “Gina, this is my friend from work. April is our chef.” She said the word chef in an affected, la-de-dah way.

  A hint of a tattoo peeked over the edging of Gina’s scooped neck top she’d tucked into skinny jeans. It was all I could do not to wonder how far down that thing went. I inwardly cringed at the thought.

  Her dark eyes widened. “Cool. Like those guys on TV that have to cook like five dishes in an hour?”

  At least the girl watched quality television. “I wouldn’t mind being an Iron Chef, but I’m just starting. I’ll be preparing Spanish cuisine.”

  “What’ll you have to drink, April?” Candy asked.

  “I’ll wait until we go to the dining room.”

  She gave me a quizzical look. “Dining room?”

  “Yeah. To order dinner. Isn’t that why we’re here?”

  She tossed her head back, and laughed. “I didn’t come here to eat. I thought you knew that. If you want to order food for in here . . .”

  “That’s okay, I’ll live.” A whiff of still-sizzling fajitas tickled my nose, and I caught sight of the steaming skillet passing to my right. My stomach rumbled. Turning away, I mentally counted to five, hoping to rid the temptation to order some. Hungry as I was, I didn’t want to be the only one eating. I’d catch a drive-through on my way back to Kitty’s. “A Diet Coke would be fine.”

  Her brows shot up. “Hey, girlfriend, pop is for work. How about something stronger?” She put her lips against the mouth of an amber bottle and took a long draw.

  “Not tonight.”

  “Maybe a little rum in it?”

  I shook my head.

  She eyed me as though I’d lost my senses, but gave my order to the bartender.

  I reached in my purse, and Candy pushed her palm against my hand. “This is on me. Next time you pay.”

  Yikes! She assumed we’d hang out on a regular basis. So far I wasn’t sure I wanted that. Hoping she hadn’t noticed the grimace
fighting it’s way to my face, I scanned the sports and movie paraphernalia that filled every available wall space in the room. “Nice place, but I’m surprised it’s not very busy.”

  “Wait,” Gina said. “The softball teams start up tonight. They finish around nine and head over here.”

  “You guys planning to stay that late?” I wouldn’t last another hour without something more than diet soda. Whatever made me think I’d find some people to socialize with tonight? They were getting started at about the time my head was hitting the pillow.

  “Gina might close the place. Tomorrow’s her day off.” Candy handed me my soft drink. “I’ll be history in a couple of hours, unless something comes up.” She winked at me. “No offense, but I’m not losing my beauty sleep hanging with a couple of chicks.” Her eyes went toward the dining area as though she expected Prince Charming to arrive at any moment. She brought her gaze back to me. “Scuttlebutt says you and Marc knew each other before. You guys date?”

  So, something else had been fodder for the office grapevine besides Ramón. How comforting. I sipped my drink. The cold liquid tasted wonderful against my suddenly parched mouth. “We attended the same college and were good friends is all.”

  A grin split her face. “Cool. Did he get you the job?”

  “I didn’t know he was working at Rescaté until the day I interviewed. It was a nice surprise.” A surprise? Yes. Nice? The jury was still out.

  Candy looked at her friend. “You should see this hunk. Coal-black hair, dark eyes. I think his mom is from Brazil.”

  “Argentina.” I cringed at how fast I corrected her.

  She shrugged. “Whatever. Her gaze went to the entrance, and her face brightened.

  Prince Charming had no doubt arrived. I turned.

  A tall broad-shouldered man stood at the entrance to the bar area. His narrowed eyes flicked back and forth over the crowd. I had to say that Candy had good taste when in came to men. She raised her arm and waved. He acknowledged her signal with a lift of his head and swaggered our way.