She placed the bag on the bedside table, picked up the control button and pressed it until the bed squeaked to a sitting position. “There, is that better?”
“Much. Thanks.” And then I asked her what was really on my mind. “Did you call Mitchell?”
She squirmed, avoiding my eyes. “I tried to reach him but the call went straight to voice mail. I thought it better to speak directly to him rather than leave him a message.”
“Oh.” I wasn’t convinced she’d even tried. I’d seen that guilty look on her face.
“But I promise I’ll try again later. Why don’t you look in the bag?”
I stared at it, famished. “What did you bring me?”
“Ah, so you’re hungry. Well, that’s a good sign.”
“I’m not sick, Toni. I broke an ankle. Besides when have you ever seen me not be hungry?”
“You’ve been doing a good job of sticking to your diet.”
Ha, little did she know.
She opened the bag, pulled out a plastic container and tore off the cover. She handed it to me along with a knife and fork, and the delicious aroma of tomato sauce and garlic filled the air.
My salivary glands went into instant overdrive. “It smells divine.”
“You’re going to love it—another one of Charles’s wonderful creations, chicken Parmesan and only two hundred and ninety calories per serving.”
She tucked a napkin under my chin, bib style, and I dug in. “Heavens, this is so good.” I took another bite. “Did you call the editor at The Toronto Daily?”
“I told you I would. And it’s all set up. As it turns out, she’s decided to hold the article back a couple of weeks. That’ll give us time to come up with a few good recipes, and then we can start the column at the same time the article comes out. Anyhow, that was her suggestion.”
“Great idea,” I said through another mouthful. “In a few weeks the rush from the TV interview might have slowed down. We’ll probably need another plug by then. How are the dogs?”
“They’re fine. I stayed overnight and then on my way here from the restaurant I stopped by again. I let Jackie out back, filled the bowls and changed the wee-wee pads.” She wrinkled her nose. “Boy, they sure poop a lot for such tiny little things.”
“Dogs do poop, you know, which is why you have to take them out regularly. Are you sure you’re ready to commit to the responsibility of a dog? You’d have to take Trouble out at least three times a day. You’d better let me know now if I have to start looking for another home for him.”
She put up her hand, swearing on an invisible Bible. “I promise Trouble is coming home with me, and I will take excellent care of him.”
“Good, I don’t know what I would do if you suddenly announced you’d changed your mind. I can handle Jackie and one pup, but no more.” After falling in love with all three newborn puppies, I’d decided to keep one, the little female I’d already named Sugar. I just knew she’d wear her name well. I gestured toward my ankle. “You’d be a real friend if you took him as soon as possible.” I returned to my meal, expecting her to put up some objection.
She quietly watched me eat for a few minutes, looking preoccupied. She cleared her throat. “Are you ready for the bad news?”
I looked up at her and put down my fork. “Give it to me.”
Her mouth tightened. “It turns out that Jake hasn’t been entirely forthcoming. He’s been keeping a secret from us.”
What was she talking about—cooking the books, embezzling? I dismissed each thought just as quickly as it popped into my mind. I couldn’t imagine Jake doing anything illegal. “Keeping what exactly?”
She gave me a concerned look. “I don’t want you to get excited now.”
“Toni! When somebody tells me to not get excited, it only makes me worry more. Cut to the chase, will you.”
“It turns out he got a phone call from some woman during our television interview.” She stared at me, watching for my reaction.
I shrugged. “So?”
“He said she sounded hysterical, screaming something about us stealing what was rightfully hers, and she was going to see us all dead.”
I gaped at her. “Why didn’t he tell us earlier?”
“Don’t be upset with him. I would have done the same thing. We’d just given a great interview. Reservations were coming in faster than we could take them. He didn’t want to put a damper on our day. Besides, he figured it was just the same mental patient who made those wild accusations to you and Charles and that she wasn’t dangerous.”
“Was he sure she was the same woman?”
She quirked an eyebrow. “Gee, I don’t know. I mean—how many lunatics would you say are running around out there, imagining we somehow stole their restaurant?”
“I know. I know.” I suddenly clicked on what she’d just said. “And now she wants all of us dead. That means you’re in danger too—maybe even the guys. Did Jake check the call display? Maybe we can locate her.”
She gave me a sardonic smile. “Of course he checked. But it seems our lunatic was smart enough to call from a confidential number.”
“Figures.” I must have grimaced because she leaned over, and put on her solicitous voice.
“How are you feeling, sweetie?”
“Okay, I guess.”
“Make sure they give you lots of Demerol. That’s the only positive thing that can come out of this.”
“I may be nice and high on painkillers right now, but I’m really low on morale. So it’s pretty much a wash.” And then, with a catch in my throat I said, “Oh, Toni, what are we going to do? Do you think her threats are serious? That she’s really coming after us?”
She tilted her head, looking serious but surprisingly calm under the circumstances. “It sure sounds that way.”
“Why don’t you look more scared?”
“Hey, like I always say, being alive is a lot more dangerous than being dead.”
“You are so full of it, Toni Lawford,” I said, chuckling. “If you thought for one minute that you were in danger, you’d be the first to scream bloody murder. What gives?”
She put a finger to her mouth, opened her purse and angled it so I could see inside.
I gasped. “You’ve got a gun?”
“I told you to be quiet,” she said, glancing furtively around. “I don’t want the whole world to know.”
“Are you crazy?” I whispered. “You don’t even know how to use a gun—or do you?” I realized there were still a few things I didn’t know about my friend. Maybe she did know how to shoot. Toni aiming a gun—now there is a scary thought.
She snapped her purse shut. “It’s not as if we can count on the cops to protect us, is it?”
I grimaced at the truth of that statement. “I told Crawford and Sanders about that woman’s threats. I described her as well as I could, but I doubt they’ll even try to find her. But back to the gun—you don’t know how to use it, do you?”
She looked at me as if I had rocks in my head. “Of course I do. Don’t you remember me telling you about that movie where I played the detective? Well, I had to take shooting lessons—you know—so I’d look like I knew what I was doing.”
I let my head drop back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling. “Have I ever told you, you drive me crazy?”
She gave me a crooked smile. “Oh yeah? Well it’s a short drive.”
“Ha-ha. Very funny.”
“You don’t believe I can shoot, do you?” She was already fumbling with the latch on her purse. Oh God. The last thing I needed was a demonstration.
“I believe you. I believe you.”
She studied me, trying—no doubt—to determine whether I meant it.
“Really,” I added, and this seemed to convince her.
She gave me a little self-satisfied smile. “I don’t believe in gun control. I believe in idiot control.” She leaned over and patted my hand. “Just so you know, I called Steven and told him everything that happened—a
bout that woman and her threats.”
Steven was one of the best defense attorneys in Toronto. He had once been very kind to me, helping me with invaluable legal advice, which I had followed—at least for the most part. Without him, I might have gone to jail and, for all I knew, could still be there. It was during that time that he and Toni began seeing each other again. As far as I was concerned, that meant their reconciliation was entirely because of me. Toni owed me.
“Getting back to the hit-and-run,” I said, “did anybody take down the license plate?”
She shook her head solemnly.
“What about the driver? Was it a man or a woman?”
Again, she shook her head.
“Did anybody at least recognize the make and model?”
She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “Sure, at least half a dozen people did. One person was sure it was a Lexus. Another swore it was an Infiniti. His wife disagreed, said it was a Volvo. And for what it’s worth, Jake is convinced it was an Audi.”
“Some help.”
“The only thing everyone did agree on was that it was big and dark—either navy, dark green or black.”
“Well, at least we know it was some kind of big expensive car. That’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Eh, I don’t think that will help. There are probably a hundred thousand luxury sedans in Forest Hills alone,” she said, naming one of Toronto’s most affluent neighborhoods.
This subject was starting to give me a headache. It was time to change it. “I have another problem. You know me. I’ll go crazy if I stay home by myself. I want to go back to work, but how am I supposed to get around with a broken ankle?”
“Give yourself a break, will you? It wouldn’t kill you to take a few days off, you know. The restaurant won’t go under if the guys and I take over while you recover.” Her eyes lit with sudden understanding. “That’s it, isn’t it? The reason you want to get back isn’t because you’re bored. It’s because you don’t trust anybody else to run the business.”
She was more right than I cared to admit. I had a brief vision of the kitchen looking like a cafeteria food fight and almost groaned out loud.
“It’s not the restaurant I’m worried about. It’s my sanity.”
“Oh, well, in that case don’t worry. It’s already too late.”
I tried to keep a straight face but I could feel a smile peeking out from the corners of my mouth. I gave in and laughed.
“I can’t stay too long. I took off as soon as the worst of the lunch rush was over. I told the guys to put up a sign that we’d reopen at five. And Jennifer is such a help.”
I nodded. “She is, isn’t she?”
“So there’s nothing to worry about. Everything’s fine.” She checked her watch. “Oops, I think it’s time I got back.” She hopped to her feet, gave me a peck on the cheek and took off, blonde hair bouncing on her shoulders and high heels clicking. “See you later, sweetie.”
“Don’t forget to call Mitchell,” I called after her, but the door was already closed.
For the rest of the day, I couldn’t stop thinking about the threats the woman had made. Was she the hit-and-run driver? And if so, what else was she planning? I was probably safe as long as I was in the hospital. But it was just a question of time before I’d be released. I had a quick vision of myself with a bull’s-eye painted on my back, and cringed. Did that mean Toni was now in danger too? There had to be something I could do to keep us all safe.
some things are just not meant to go together
At six o’clock the next morning, I was considering the bowl of cold and glutinous porridge when Dr. Goodall stopped by. “How are we doing today?” He picked up my chart from the foot of the bed and scanned it briefly. “Are you still in very much pain?”
I looked at the spoonful of unappetizing oatmeal before me and let it dribble back into the bowl. “My one complaint around here is the food.” I beamed him a smile. “Good thing those painkillers more than make up for it. They are magical.”
He chuckled. “All I can say is don’t get used to them. I can’t prescribe them for more than a few days.” He moved closer. “Let’s take a look at that ankle now.” He gently unwrapped the gauze around the splint. It wasn’t as bad as I’d feared but I still gritted my teeth against the pain. He looked at it from one angle and then another, testing the swelling and pressing down lightly with an index finger much the way I might test cookies for doneness.
He nodded. “There’s still considerable swelling, but I think we can give you an air cast. They’re light, comfortable and adjustable, and you can tighten it as the swelling continues to go down. I’ll show you how before you’re discharged.”
“Does that mean I can go home?”
“Yes—just as soon as we get you that cast.”
A short time later, I signed myself out and hobbled on my new crutches all the way to the main entrance of the hospital. My purse was slung over one shoulder. I had a winter boot on one foot and some newfangled thing that looked more like a ski boot than a cast on the other. By the time I got to the front door, I felt as if I’d run a marathon. My underarms had taken a beating, and I suspected the palms of my hands would soon begin to blister. And I was supposed to do this for six to eight weeks? My arms would either give up and I’d spend all my time in bed. Or maybe I’d end up with a toned upper body. Hmm, maybe not a bad trade-off.
A cute intern hurried over to hold the door open for me, and I stepped into a gorgeous fall day. The sun was shining and the streets were dry—thank God. I gathered my strength and trudged over to the taxi at the front of the line.
Twenty minutes later the driver pulled up in front of my house. He ran around to the passenger side and helped me out.
“There you go,” he said, and before I knew it, he’d jumped back into the driver’s seat, calling out, “Have a nice day,” before slamming the door shut.
“Hey, wait. I can’t—”
To my horror he drove off, leaving me staring at the expanse of slippery sidewalk to my front door. The streets in the city were dry but my sidewalk still looked like an ice rink. Great. It might as well have been a mile long.
Some things were just not meant to go together—for example, icy paths and crutches. I threw a quick look at Mitchell’s house. He had once joked that I sure knew how to make a man feel needed, because he seemed to be forever be coming to my rescue. Where was my prince charming now? Sigh.
I measured the distance to my front door, wondering whether I should just abandon my crutches and crawl, when the door opened and Toni flew out, wearing a sheer negligee, the peignoir billowing behind her.
“What in the world do you think you’re doing? Are you crazy, trying to walk this icy patch on crutches? Here, hold onto me.”
I grasped onto her shoulder with one arm, dropping one of the crutches.
She picked it up. “I’ll hold it. Are you ready?”
I nodded. She took one careful step forward. I followed, half shuffling, half hopping. So far so good.
“You know,” she said, taking another careful step, “if Jackie hadn’t sounded the alarm, I would never have known you were out here.”
“What do you mean?”
“It was the weirdest thing. A few minutes before you got here, she hopped on top of me and then onto the back of the sofa, barking like mad out the living room window. I looked out to see what that ruckus was all about, but there was nothing. And then, the very next second, a cab drives up, and who comes out but you?” She moved another foot forward and I followed. “It was almost as if she knew you were about to come home. I tell you, it gave me goose bumps.”
I chuckled, spotting Jackie still on the back of the sofa, still barking madly. “I’m not surprised. She does that all the time. I can’t decide whether she’s telepathic or just has such a great sense of smell that she can tell when I’m blocks away.”
“I hope it’s the former,” she said, snickering. “I wouldn’t want to think any cr
eature could smell you from so far away.”
A few steps more and we were inside. Toni closed the door behind us and Jackie came galloping over, throwing herself at me.
“No, Jackie, no. Jackie, down, girl.” I wasn’t sure enough on my crutches yet to handle even a three-pound dog. The next thing I knew, I was falling. I put out my arms and saw the floor coming at me as if in slow motion. Then I was on my stomach, with Jackie doing cartwheels on my back, while licking one of my ears with enthusiasm. I’d made it safely all the way down the icy walk, only to end up sprawled on my stomach within two seconds of reaching the safety of my hallway.
“I love you too, Jackie. Now, would please let me get up?”
She hopped off, marching away in disgust and giving me a reproachful look, as if to say, “That’s what I get for demonstrating my love?”
Toni helped me back up to my one good foot, handing me my crutches. “Are you okay?”
I nodded, shakily. But just the jar of the fall had sent shock waves throbbing up and down my leg.
“Thank God. How about I make some coffee? Like I always say, there’s nothing a good cup of coffee won’t fix.”
“Maybe you should make a cup of coffee for that lunatic who wants us dead, and throw a little arsenic in it while you’re at it. That might be a more effective fix.” Suddenly I noticed her feet were blue with cold. “You ran outside in your bare feet?”
She shrugged. “Of course. I couldn’t risk you hurting yourself. What are friends for?”
Once in a while Toni did something so incredibly selfless, it left me speechless.
a much highlighted self-help book
While Toni ran upstairs and changed into four-inch heels and yet another clingy dress, this one turquoise with a plunging neckline, I popped a painkiller and checked my phone messages—three, one of which was from Mitchell. My heart skipped a beat.
“Hi sweetheart. I made it safely to New York. Bunny and I are working like mad.” His editor’s name is Bunny? I immediately pictured a blonde Playboy centerfold in my mind, hating her instantly. “I tried reaching you a few times but I kept getting your voice mail. Anyhow, we’ll speak soon—love you.” I was listening to the message for the third time when Toni came back down. I put down the phone and settled myself at the kitchen table, while she busied herself making coffee. Soon it began to drip, its aroma filling the air.
Getting Rich (A Chef Landry Mystery) Page 9