Murder on the Menu

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Murder on the Menu Page 6

by Miranda Bliss


  “Not satisfied?” If you asked me, it was a mighty odd way to express heartbreak. “Not satisfied with what? With what Dylan did to her? What he left her?”

  “Maybe she just wasn’t satisfied with her life. Or heck, maybe he was a lousy lover. We’re never going to know.” Tyler’s voice snapped, and I think his temper would have, too, if he didn’t control it with an effort that was nearly palpable. “Look…” He drew in a breath, let it out slowly, and after he put the note back in his pocket, he scrubbed his hands over his face. “I know this can be tough. Finding a body is bad enough, but when it’s someone you know…well, it’s not easy. Believe me, I’ve seen this enough times to know. You’re looking for answers, I’m not giving you any, and it’s frustrating. But I’m not trying to stonewall you, and I’m not trying to give you a hard time, and I’m not trying to keep information from you, because there isn’t anything that you don’t already know. This is sad, and it’s difficult, but it’s as straightforward as it gets. Ms. Whittaker killed herself. I know it’s hard to make peace with something like that. Especially when it’s a friend. But that’s the end of the story. Wineglasses or no wineglasses.”

  Tyler was right, and I knew it. So did Eve. As much as she would have liked to argue with him, she pressed her lips together. I saw her shoulders rise and fall. We could spin this any way we wanted, but when our heads stopped whirling, we knew we had no choice but to face the truth.

  I was about to tell Tyler this when Doctor Masakazu’s howling grew louder and more insistent than ever.

  The sound Tyler made from between clenched teeth was something like a growl. “Maybe she killed herself because she just couldn’t stand living with that dog anymore,” he said. “Maybe she wanted you here to make sure somebody found it before the neighbors stormed the door and tossed it out the window.”

  “Well, I never!” Eve marched forward and stood toe-to-toe with Tyler. “How you can be so insensitive at a time like this is a wonder to me. No, wait! It isn’t a surprise at all. You were always a coldhearted bastard.”

  A tiny smile quirked the corner of Tyler’s mouth. “That’s not what Kaitlin says.”

  I had to give Eve credit—she didn’t flinch at the mention of Tyler’s current fiancée. “That poor little girl just doesn’t know you well enough,” she said. “She’ll come to her senses. Sooner or later. And when she does—”

  Doctor Masakazu’s yaps rose to fever pitch, and Tyler threw his hands in the air. “Will somebody do something about that dog!”

  I have a feeling the order was intended for the cops who were still in the bathroom, making their final notes about the scene, but Eve could move pretty fast when she wanted to. Even in four-inch heels.

  She was in the guest room in a flash. Before I could remind her that what she was doing was making a commitment and that she was commitment-phobic, she was back, dog carrier and dog—quiet now that someone was paying attention to him—in hand.

  “We’ll take him,” Eve told Tyler. “The poor thing is upset and hungry, and somebody needs to watch out for him until Sarah’s sister can come and get him.”

  He snorted. “I can’t let you do that.”

  “Would you rather listen to him?”

  As if the dog understood Eve’s question, he ratcheted up the noise, and Tyler gave in with a good-riddance wave of both hands. “It’s that or I’m getting out my gun,” he said.

  Apparently, Eve wasn’t willing to wait around and see if he was kidding. We hightailed it out of Sarah’s apartment.

  No sooner were we back in Eve’s car than Doctor Masakazu was sound asleep.

  Five

  WHEN I WALKED INTO THE KITCHEN OF BELLYWASHER’S the next evening, I found Eve on her break. She was sitting on a stool in a quiet corner between the walk-in cooler and the pantry where we kept the canned goods. At least she had the good sense to look embarrassed when I took one look at her and my mouth dropped open; she had Doctor Masakazu on her lap.

  Red-faced or not, it didn’t stop her from breaking off tiny bits of goat cheese and artichoke bruschetta and feeding them to the dog.

  I hadn’t had a chance to talk to Jim since I’d arrived; he was busy going from table to table (all three of them that were full), greeting our guests and making sure everything was to their liking. I knew there was no way he knew the dog was there—if he did, the dog would be gone. I looked over my shoulder to make sure he was still busy and made sure the door between the kitchen and the restaurant was firmly shut. Then I closed in on Eve. Suddenly, my heart was racing double time.

  Just like my imagination.

  In my mind’s eye I saw teams of health inspectors in full riot gear raiding the place. They all had health regulations code books in hand and pens poised over papers that said violation in big black letters at the top.

  My voice was shrill, but I tried to keep it down. No use attracting any more attention from Marc or Damien, who were both busy at the grill. Besides, from the way they avoided looking at me, something told me they knew what was going on. No doubt, Eve had already worked a little of her mumbo jumbo guy magic. No way they were going to squeal on her.

  I, however, was not so easily swayed. “Are you crazy?” I asked her, but I didn’t wait for her to answer. “You can’t bring an animal into a restaurant. It’s against every health regulation there is. Does Jim know? He doesn’t know, does he? No way would he be out there acting as if everything was normal if he knew. If he sees that dog, he’s going to have a coronary.”

  There were windows in the swinging doors between the kitchen and the restaurant, and Eve sat up tall and craned her neck to confirm that Jim couldn’t see us. Satisfied the coast was clear, she broke off another piece of bread and held it in front of the dog’s nose. He sniffed appreciatively, licked his tiny chops, and gobbled it down.

  “He’s been here all day,” Eve said. I knew the him she was talking about wasn’t Jim. “Jim hasn’t found out yet. That’s because my little Doc is being a perfect angel. He’s been asleep most of the day. In there.” Eve looked toward where we stored the clean linens. Tucked between the shelf and the wall was a large purse I’d never seen before, fire-engine red and studded with rhinestones that matched the dog’s sparkling collar. It was just about as big as the bathroom in my apartment. “He helped me pick it out this morning, and it’s just perfect for him. He has his blanky in there and a chew toy and—”

  “And it doesn’t matter!”

  Heidi banged through the door to pick up an order. I scurried out of her way, and Eve turned on the stool so that the waitress couldn’t see the dog. I didn’t open my mouth again until Heidi had headed back up front with a loaded tray of food.

  “He’s not allowed to be here,” I reminded Eve. “Even if he is behaving. If somebody finds out and reports us—”

  “Nobody’s going to find out.” Just as the little guy wolfed down the last of the bruschetta, Damien walked by with a tiny wedge of lemon pound cake. “Don’t sweat it, Annie,” he said. He tugged me away from Eve, clearly looking to keep me from freaking. “I’ll show you how to make this pound cake. It’s a killer of a recipe. You could serve it at a party and—”

  “I could not serve it at a party,” I said, and I didn’t bother to add that not only did I not throw parties, but that if I did throw parties, I could never serve anything I made at them. Didn’t Damien see the cook’s equivalent of the surgeon general’s warning over my head? The one that said I should avoid close contact with stoves at all costs?

  I guess he wasn’t into warnings. He breezed right on. “Give it a taste,” he said, and before I could protest, he had a piece of the cake to my lips. “Come on, Annie, just a little bite.”

  What’s a woman to do?

  I bit.

  It took no more than that for me to understand why Doctor Masakazu was sitting there with the doggy equivalent of a smile on his face. “It’s heavenly,” I said.

  “You betcha. Come on.” Another tug, and Damien succeeded at getti
ng me even farther from Eve and the dog. “Marc’s gonna whip up another pound cake. He has to. What he made earlier is almost gone. People are ordering it like crazy.”

  “It’s the secret ingredient,” Marc chimed in. “Not anything folks expect to find in pound cake. But see, here’s the secret…” He had a small amount of butter melted in a saucepan, and he sprinkled a dried herb in it that looked and smelled like…

  “Lavender?”

  Marc met my question with a smile. He plopped a dollop of whipped cream on a dish. “I’ll steep it in the butter for ten minutes, then strain and discard it. It gives the cake a great flavor, doesn’t it?” he asked, and he took the plate over to the dog, who promptly licked it clean.

  “Isn’t he just the sweetest thing?” Eve wasn’t referring to Marc. She was using that singsong voice again, and I rolled my eyes. She didn’t notice. She was too busy making funny little squeaky noises at the dog. “He’s my little honey bunch! My little sweetie pie! My little—”

  “Your little ticket to the unemployment line.” If Damien and Marc thought a little thing like lemon pound cake was going to distract me (even if it was incredible lemon pound cake), they were wrong. I unwound my arm from Damien’s hold and hurried closer to Eve and the dog. Maybe if she looked at me, she could shake Doctor Masakazu’s hypnotic spell. I waved my arms in the air. “Earth to Eve! They’ll shut us down. Get it? Closed. No more Bellywasher’s. Are you willing to risk that? For a dog?”

  Eve’s brows knit. She let the dog finish the pound cake, then brushed her hands together and scooped him into her arms. Nose to nose, she whispered something to him, retrieved the purse, and gently settled him inside. “I never thought of that,” she said, and I knew it was true. More often than not, Eve’s heart ruled her head.

  As if she, too, could picture those hordes of health inspectors closing in on us, she darted a look at the back door. She gently nudged the purse farther into the corner. “You stay right there, sweet’ums,” she instructed the dog before she turned back to me. “Honest, Annie, I never wanted to cause any trouble. I just didn’t know what else to do with him. I’ve got a dog walker starting tomorrow. I’ll take care of the mornings, then she’ll come in on the days I work. Once after lunch, another time right before dinner, and a third time on the nights I’m here late. But that’s tomorrow, and today…” She shrugged and glanced at the clock. “It’s just a couple more hours. What could it hurt? Besides, I didn’t have the heart to leave him alone today. He’s been so down in the dumps. I think he really misses Sarah.”

  It was, of course, not the first time that day that I’d thought of Sarah Whittaker myself. Automatically, I checked the clock. Just a little more than twenty-four hours earlier, we’d stood in Sarah’s bathroom, looking in horror at her dead body.

  I shook the thought aside and congratulated myself. Though it wasn’t easy, I’d worked hard on it all day, and I’d been able to compartmentalize everything I’d seen the night before. Little by little, I was coming to grips with the truth: Sarah had killed herself, and as much as we tried to fool ourselves into thinking we could have done something to stop it, it simply wasn’t true. She was in charge of her own life. She’d made the ultimate decision.

  Even before I saw the glimmer of tears in Eve’s eyes, I knew she wasn’t thinking the same way. It was the whole heart-over-head thing again.

  “I know,” I said. It was a lame bit of consolation and ineffectual as well, but it was all I could think to say. “I know it hurts. I’ve been thinking about Sarah, too. But I really don’t think the dog—”

  “He has such sad eyes!” Eve sniffed back her tears. “When I got home last night I walked him and fed him and he was so darling and so thankful, especially for the cheeseburger I got for him at the drive-through on the way home. But even so, I know he’s feeling the loss.

  “Maybe, but sad or not, a restaurant is no place—”

  “If we hadn’t gone over to Sarah’s when we did, think of how miserable he would be right now.” Eve sniffled. “He was so hungry and so lonely. If somebody hadn’t come along, he might even have—” She gulped. “He could have died before anyone found him. Oh, my gosh, it just breaks my heart to think about it. And I was going to leave him home today. Honest! But just as I was leaving, he called out to me with a pitiful little bark. And I thought about how sad he is and about how lonesome he is and about how he could have starved to death if we didn’t find him and get him away from Tyler who would have just left him there because he’s a coldhearted son of a bitch. Tyler, that is, not my sweet little Doc,” she added, as if I needed the clarification. “I thought about all that, and I tried to leave him home. I couldn’t.”

  “I know, but—”

  “And I know what you’re going to say: that an animal can’t know what’s going on around him. That he can’t be sad. But Doctor Masakazu does. He is. He’s so grateful for all I’ve done for him. You should have seen him last night, curled up there in bed next to me. Why I—”

  “You let the dog sleep with you?” I have already admitted that when it comes to cleanliness, I have something of a compulsion. OK, it’s an obsession. Just the thought of a dog in Eve’s—or anyone else’s—bed gave me the heebie-jeebies. “You can’t let a dog sleep in your bed!”

  She raised her chin. “Why not? He’s clean and cuddly and better behaved than any man who’s ever been there! And he was just so sad.”

  Eve made a move back toward where Doctor Masakazu was tucked away. “Just take a look at his sweet little sad face, and you’ll see. You’ll understand why I did what I had to do.”

  “All right. All right.” I gave in. It was better than letting her get the dog out of her purse so I could see that face. I didn’t want to take a chance that Jim would find out what was going on. “But it never happens again,” I told her.

  “Cross my heart.” Eve did.

  “And you’re sure he’ll be quiet?”

  She nodded. “I’ll walk him on my next break. I promise. He’ll sleep until then.”

  I glanced toward the linen rack. “And there’s no chance he’ll—”

  “Get away?” Eve laughed. “Even if he does, he’s too tiny to go far. And he’s not going to even try,” she added when that wasn’t assurance enough for me. “His itty-bitty tummy is full, and he’s a happy-wappy puppy! Except for being sad about Sarah, of course. And speaking of Sarah…”

  I stopped Eve before she could get started. “Neither one of us needs to deal with the emotional baggage of Sarah’s death. Not now, Eve. Not when we have work to do. Let’s put it aside for now and talk about it later.”

  Eve tapped her chin with her index finger. “But I’m not thinking emotionally. Not this time. I’ve been trying to work through the whole thing the way you always say I should. You know, logically. And I don’t think it adds up. Remember, the linen guy was here.”

  Do I need to point out that I wasn’t following her train of thought?

  I guess my huh? expression said it all.

  Eve pointed at the shelf of clean, neatly folded tablecloths and napkins. “The linen guy. He was here. The same day Sarah was.”

  “And—?”

  “And he looks like a criminal type. And if he was following Sarah—”

  I threw my hands in the air and turned my back, ready to head into my office.

  “I knew that’s how you were going to react,” Eve said, darting in front of me to block the doorway. “I knew you weren’t going to listen. That’s why I did some research.”

  Eve and research. Two words I never thought I’d hear in the same sentence. Who could blame me if I stopped to listen?

  “I looked on the Internet,” she whispered, “for stuff about our linen supply company, Table Top Pros. The company is owned by Ivan Gystanovich.”

  I nodded. I knew this. Like I said, I’d done my homework before I contracted with the company.

  “And Gregor, his last name is Gystanovich. That probably means he’s related to this Ivan g
uy.”

  I hadn’t known Gregor’s last name, but I nodded again anyway. There wasn’t much else I could do.

  Eve leaned closer and lowered her voice. “A couple of the articles I read said that Ivan has ties with the Russian mob.”

  This, of course, was news to me. Still…

  “That’s interesting,” I told Eve. “Really, it is. But it doesn’t mean a thing. Table Top Pros has a sterling reputation.”

  “But Gregor—”

  “Wasn’t doing anything but his job the day Sarah was here. Besides, I think he was already gone by the time Sarah arrived.”

  “But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t watching her. You know, from behind a potted plant or something. Maybe he was waiting outside for her.”

  “No, it doesn’t mean he wasn’t. But it sure doesn’t mean he was. And why would he? There’s no connection between them at all.”

  “No connection that we know of.”

  “And no reason to think that Gregor is dishonest.”

  “Like his shifty eyes don’t mean anything?” Eve cocked her head, the better to try to bring what she saw as my irrational argument into focus. “I told you, Annie, there’s something fishy about that guy.”

  It was hard to argue with that kind of logic, so I gave up without a fight. “OK, let’s say this Gregor guy isn’t on the up-and-up. That still doesn’t mean he had anything to do with what happened to Sarah.”

  “But what if—”

  I was done debating the issue. It was painful and it was hard, but it was time for Eve to face the facts. I put my hand on her arm. “I know, Eve, I know this hurts. Sarah was beautiful and smart and friendly. The last time we saw her…” The last time we saw Sarah, she was bobbing in a tub of bloody water. I decided on a different tack.

  “As much as you might hate to admit it, this is one time that Tyler is right. You remember what he said. Sarah made a choice, and nobody’s responsible for her death but her. Nobody could have stopped her, either. I know you wish you could have done more. I do, too, and I barely knew her. But you’re doing all you can. You’re taking care of the dog until her sister gets here.”

 

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