Murder in the Pearl District (Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series Book 5)

by Dianne Harman

  “Yes. Elena Wright seems to have some major psychological issues. She spent a lot of time in a private mental institution out of state. Her father is a very wealthy lumber baron and didn’t want anyone to know about it, so he paid for her to be admitted to a very expensive private facility in Washington, near Seattle.”

  “Were you able to find out why she was admitted to the facility?”

  “Yeah, it took a little doing, but it looks like she suffers from a mental condition everyone’s heard of, delusions of grandeur. I was able to talk to the doctor who treated her at the facility, and he told me that when she entered the facility she believed she was the most famous hostess in the United States.”

  “What kind of therapy do you use for something like that?” Kelly asked, sitting back in her chair and doodling on a notepad.

  “He told me it usually is part of a larger psychological issue, such as the person being bipolar or even having substance abuse issues. There didn’t seem to be a history of substance abuse, but he did put her on the same medication he uses to treat bipolar patients. He said she didn’t have a lot of the symptoms of someone who classically suffers from the disease, but her mother had been bipolar and there are different degrees of it. He seemed to think the medicine helped her.”

  “Given that kind of medical background, I suppose she very well might have felt terribly threatened by the scallop incident. In other words, as the French would say, her ‘raison d’être,’ which means the thing that was most important to her, was ruined because of Donatella, or at least that’s how she possibly saw it. I suppose in her mind that could have been reason enough for her to want to kill Donatella. I’ve even heard rumors that Donatella wanted to discredit Elena because of her reputation as the foremost dinner hostess in the district. Donatella wanted to be the top food person in all respects. I also heard a rumor that she took a gamble that someone from the Midwest who had never had scallops might have a food allergy to them, and that’s why she served scallops. Seems a bit far-fetched, Machiavellian if you will, but who knows? Things aren’t always what they look like on the surface.” Kelly said.

  “No, they’re not.”

  “Did you find out when she was in the private mental facility?”

  “I asked the doctor that very question, and he said it was five years ago. I suppose it’s possible she could have stopped taking her medication or that her mental situation has taken a turn for the worse. There’s no way to tell without a battery of tests being done on her.”

  “If it turns out she’s the one who did it, I imagine the court would insist on a full mental fitness evaluation. I don’t know if you found out anything about Tina Ramos, but let me tell you about a visit I had from her this afternoon.”

  “Yes, I researched Tina, but I’d like to hear what you have to say first.”

  Kelly told him about the surprise visit she’d received from Tina and the one hundred eighty degree turn she’d made between yesterday and today. “Honest, Mike, it was like I was talking to a completely different woman.”

  “Well, it may seem like that, but she still had a very good motive for killing Donatella. From what my research showed, she has a long history of alcohol abuse. She’s had three DUI’s and even spent some time in an alcohol rehab center as part of her court sentence. As a matter of fact, the entire family has a long history of it. She inherited quite a sum of money from her parents when they died in an auto accident after they’d been drinking heavily at a bar in Portland and ran off the road on their way home. Her brother died a few years ago of cirrhosis of the liver, so even though she says she’s never going to have another drink, I’m not so sure she’s to be believed. Sounds more to me like a classic morning after thing to say.”

  “Wow! To come from a family like that and then have your husband leave you for another woman. That’s kind of sad.”

  “Don’t go getting all soft on me. It’s not a good characteristic to have when you’re investigating a murder case. Believe me, I speak from experience. Just keep in mind that she very well may be the person who did it.”

  “I suppose you’re right. Mike, you won’t believe the meeting I just had with a private investigator who told me all about Bill Hossam and Chef DuBois.” She told him everything Dirk had told her and the strange difference between his education and how he chose to earn a living.

  “First of all, I’m not surprised that he acts and talks like that. He’s absolutely right, if people think you’re on their level or below it, they’ll tell you a lot more than if you come off as highly educated. It’s probably a pretty good strategy in his line or work. As for the chef and Hossam. They both jump to the top of my list of possible suspects. They both had an awful lot to lose if Donatella ever blew the whistle on them.”

  “I wonder if she threatened the chef. Remember, Carlotta said she’d overheard Donatella threatening Hossam. Maybe she was going to go to the Gazette and blow the whistle on him. That would certainly give him a reason to murder her. I agree with you. I’d put him pretty high up on the list of suspects.’

  “I’ve got to go. I’m running late for a meeting. I’ll call you later. Don’t forget we have a deal. You, the gun, and Rebel. Deal?”

  “Deal, Sheriff. Love you.”

  “Bye, babe. Be safe.”

  CHAPTER 22

  Kelly had just ended her call to Mike when the office phone rang. “This is Kelly.”

  “It’s Carlotta. I don’t know what to do. We don’t open until 5:30 for dinner, and not only is every table reserved tonight, there must be twenty people standing in line outside the restaurant. I can’t believe it. It makes the lunch line look like nothing. I can’t figure out how everyone heard about the new dishes. One of the people said they saw something on television, and someone else said they read about the restaurant in an article that was in the Gazette. We must be all over the media, but I’ve been too busy to look at the television or turn on the radio. Plus, I just got a call from that restaurant critic, Bill Hossam, and he made a reservation for four people for tonight. I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I was pretty sure you’d want me to work him in.”

  “Absolutely. Thanks, Carlotta. Give me a couple of minutes, and I’ll come out and help you. Let’s do it this way. We’ll give the people with reservations first priority, and if we have any open seats we’ll plug in the others as best we can. Since they don’t have reservations, I really don’t think there’s anything else we can do, and they’ll just have to understand. It’s also kind of a reverse psychology kind of thing. The more you can’t have something, the more you want it. Try and get as many people as you can into the bar area. I know that’s where the restaurant makes the most profit. See if you can call in another bartender for tonight. If this continues, we’re definitely going to have to hire more people. I’ll go alert the kitchen.”

  She gave Rebel his evening meal which he ate with his usual vigor. “Between what’s happening at the restaurant and trying to solve Donatella’s murder, I’ll really be glad to get back to sleepy Cedar Bay. How about you, big guy?”

  He wagged his tail and looked up at her. She could swear he was sending her a message that he wasn’t a big city dog, and he couldn’t wait to get back to Mike and Lady. “Okay, you stay here and guard the receipts, while I do battle in the restaurant. See you in a couple of hours.”

  She walked into the kitchen where Nico and Sophie were huddled in the corner going over the food that needed to be ordered within the hour for delivery the next morning. “Whatever you’re ordering, I’d suggest you double it.” Kelly said.

  “What are you talking about?” Sophie asked in her soft French accented voice.

  She told them about the call she’d just received from Carlotta. “It looks like tonight’s going to be busier than we were at noon, and tomorrow’s going to probably be even busier. I know we can only serve a certain number of dishes, but what worries me is that they’re going to start placing orders to take out, and we should be ready to fill those
as well. Nico, if you need to call in some more kitchen help, feel free to do it. I’m going to work with Carlotta in the front of the restaurant. Call me if you need me.”

  Kelly walked into the dining area of the restaurant just as Carlotta unlocked the doors at 5:30. By 5:40 there wasn’t an open seat at any of the tables and it was standing room only, and not that much of it, in the bar.

  “I called several waitresses and waiters to help us out tonight,” Carlotta said.” We should be fine for tonight, but we definitely need to hire more people. A number of people waiting in line have decided to place orders to go instead of waiting for a table, if one even opens up, so I have one of the wait staff assigned to take care of the to go orders.”

  “Good thinking. That’s been a concern of mine.”

  “Kelly, I know you’re new in town, but everyone who is anyone in the Pearl District either has made a reservation for tonight or is presently standing in line. I can’t believe what I’m seeing.”

  Kelly looked at her watch and realized an hour and a half had already gone by. She’d made two trips to the office to put the receipts from the bar and the reception desk in the floor safe. Each time she admonished Rebel to be on guard. She looked outside when she returned to the reception desk the second time and saw that even more people were standing in line.

  This must be every restaurant owner’s dream, but in some ways it’s becoming a nightmare. I’m ready for this night to be over.

  Much later, after the night had finally ended, she’d look back and remember that innocent thought.

  CHAPTER 23

  Kelly stood behind the reception desk while Carlotta showed the diners to their tables and gave them the old and new menus. While she was looking at the seating chart and wondering if any more diners could be accommodated, she heard a voice say, “Good evening, Mrs. Reynolds.” She looked up and was face to face with the restaurant critic from the Portland Gazette, Bill Hossam.

  “Hello, Mr. Hossam. It’s good to see you, but I must say I’m surprised. I thought you weren’t going to come back for a week.”

  “I’ve been getting calls all afternoon about the changes here in the menu at Mangia! Mangia!, and I thought I better see what all the buzz is about before it dies down. You know you can’t possibly expect to maintain this,” he said haughtily as he gestured at the full restaurant.

  “Good evening, Mr. Hossam,” Carlotta said, “Do you wish to be seated now, or do you want to wait for the rest of your party?”

  “Seat me now. The other members of my group texted me they’re running a little late.”

  Kelly noticed he didn’t bother to thank Carlotta or show her any other courtesy. Obviously he feels he’s superior to her. One of the things I hate more than anything else in the world – people who think they’re better than everyone else and don’t even need to acknowledge those they consider to be lesser than them. Yeah, Mr. Hossam, but I know the truth about you, Mr. Big Shot. I’m tempted to blackmail you myself, but I suppose that wouldn’t go over very well with a certain sheriff I happen to be married to. I’ll just have to keep my mouth shut and grin and bear it.

  A few minutes later she said, “Carlotta, I’m going over to Mr. Hossam’s table for a few minutes. I need to talk to him.”

  “Sure. I can handle it. The line outside is down to a trickle, but we sure did a huge take-out business. I wonder how close the kitchen is to running out of ingredients for the new dishes.”

  “I have no idea. The only time I left the front desk area of the restaurant was to take receipts back to the office. I have no way of knowing what the previous best night’s receipts were for the restaurant and bar, but whatever they were, I bet we’ve already broken that record tonight. We still have a couple of hours to go, and from the looks of the bar crowd, some of them might be around until closing time, meaning even more profits.”

  “Kelly, I don’t know about you, but I’m bone tired. My face hurts from smiling, and if I had a penny for every time I’ve explained what is in the new dishes on the menu, I’d be a rich woman. And I know darned well the diners probably asked the wait staff the same thing! Go and enjoy Mr. Big Shot Food Critic. Too bad Donatella didn’t serve him some of her infamous scallops.”

  “I wish I could say I didn’t agree with you, Carlotta, but I do. He really is a pompous arrogant so-and-so. If it wasn’t for Sophie and the restaurant, I could easily do without ever having anything to do with that man. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  She walked over to his table and sat down across from him. When he was finished reading the messages on his cell phone, he looked up at her. “What can I do for you?” he asked.

  “I’m curious how someone gets to be a food critic. We don’t have any where I come from, just people who like good food. How did you wind up in this kind of a job?”

  “Well, I started out in New York at the Cordon Bleu. After I graduated from there, I decided I’d rather help people find good places to eat than cook for them. The profession has been very good to me. I have one of the best reputations of any food critic in the entire United States. I’ve been told I should think about going to Italy or France, but I never perfected those languages. The only things I know about either one of those countries are the dishes that come from there. A lot of people say that my talent is wasted in a city as small as Portland, but I must admit I like the Northwest.”

  “Well, you certainly have a following. What about San Francisco or Los Angeles?”

  “I don’t like people from California. They’re so into whatever the newest fad is. Once you’ve spent time at the Cordon Bleu and been with really great chefs, you realize there’s far more to cooking than theatrics. Every restaurant I’ve ever been to in California seemed to rely more on some chef’s ability to do what they call ‘molecular gastronomy,’ which is just a fancy word for using all kinds of things like making gas bubbles taste like chocolate rather than preparing food in the classical manner. You know, the kind of food like I had to prepare when I was a student at the Cordon Bleu. And don’t even get me started on those chefs who are so hot on the ‘sous vide’ method of cooking. That’s just vacuum packed food cooked in a warm bath at a low temperature. In my mind, those two methods of cooking are examples of theatrics at its worst.”

  “I have to admit I’ve not tasted anything cooked in either one of those methods, but I sure have been seeing a lot about them in the food magazines and on the television food shows.”

  “Oh those people don’t know anything. That’s why my column is so important and popular. People want to know what someone trained at the Cordon Bleu thinks of a restaurant rather than have some gorgeous hunk or beauty queen who doesn’t know a turnip from a piece of tuna tell them what the latest is in molecular gastronomy or sous vide cooking.”

  “I see your point. If I may change the subject, are you originally from New York? I don’t detect a New York accent.”

  “Yes. I lived and worked at restaurants in New York until I came out here. Several people urged me to come to Oregon because it was obvious to them that the Northwest needed a food critic of my caliber. My parents were originally from the Midwest, so that’s probably why I don’t have an accent.”

  “I see Carlotta escorting some people to your table. Your guests must have arrived. I hope you enjoy the new additions to our menu. The other diners speak very highly of them.”

  “For your sake, I hope I do too.”

  That certainly sounded like a veiled threat if I ever heard one. What an officious horrible liar. I wouldn’t put it past him to be the one who murdered Donatella. Anyone who thinks that highly of himself would no doubt do whatever was necessary to make sure no one ever found out the truth about them. Should have told him that just like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz, he wasn’t in Kansas anymore or maybe better yet, tell him to click his heels three times and say there’s no place like home and I think I’ll mosey on down the road back to Garden City. Too bad Donatella didn’t have a bad scallop day at the restaur
ant or at least arrange for one particular diner to be the recipient of one of them!

  CHAPTER 24

  “Kelly, there’s a call for you on line two,” Carlotta said. “Do you want to take it here or in the office?”

  “As loud as it in here, I better take it in the office. Do you know who’s calling?”

  “Yes. He said it was Detective Masters.”

  “Good. I’ve been wondering why I haven’t heard from him. Please tell him I’ll be with him in just a minute.”

  She walked down the hall and into the office, looking over at the rear door that led to the alley to make sure it was double locked. Even though she’d carefully put all of the receipts for the evening in the floor safe, it still made her nervous that there was a separate entrance into the office. Carlotta had told her that Donatella didn’t want the staff to know when she wasn’t on the premises, so she had a door cut into the wall which gave her direct access to the alley. That way she could come and go whenever she wanted, and the staff would never know when she was gone.

  Probably makes a lot of sense, but it makes me nervous. Maybe that comes from being married to a sheriff. I know some of the things that can happen, and often they’re not always pleasant.

  Rebel walked over to her as she sat at the desk and put his paw on her lap. Kelly knew that was his way of letting her know he needed a little reassurance. “It’s okay, Rebel. We’ll be going home in just a couple of days. One way or the other, whether I solve this murder or not, we’re going back to Cedar Bay, and it can’t be soon enough for me. Maybe it’s time I told Detective Masters everything I know and let him solve the murder. That’s what he’s being paid for.”