Killer Cuisine

by Velvet Vaughn

  Kait was the only woman he’d ever met who could hit a home run, sink a three-pointer and throw a touchdown and still look like a runway model. He’d been so proud to have her on his arm when they’d been dating. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. But then he’d do something stupid to screw it up. Why she kept taking him back, he’d never know. He vowed that if he was ever fortunate enough to have another shot with her, he wouldn’t screw it up. But he might’ve waited too late now with Frankie in the picture. He really hated that French bastard.

  A noise penetrated his musings and he jerked his head to see a car laying rubber as it sped forward—right for Kaitlyn.

  Everything happened in slow motion. He glanced at her. She was blissfully unaware of the impending situation. “Kaitlyn,” he yelled and waved his arms, trying to snag her attention. White cords dangled from her ears. Earphones. She couldn’t hear him—or the car. He took off at a dead run. At the last second, he dove for her, plowing into her as the bumper grazed his hip. He propelled her into the air, twisting to cushion her fall. The brush with the car along with the impact of the hard earth jarred his bones. Stars exploded in his eyes.

  “What in the holy hell are you doing, DJ?”

  He couldn’t talk. Couldn’t breathe. His lungs refused to inflate. His vision narrowed to two small pinpricks of light. Somewhere in the deep recesses of his brain, he registered gunfire and muscle memory took over. He rolled to cover her, a loud groan pushing through his lips. He managed to look down at her. She was eying him like he was an idiot. Tendrils of long silky hair escaped her ponytail to frame a heart-shaped face with the creamiest, smoothest skin he’d ever seen. Only now, tiny wrinkles gathered between her eyes as she seethed with anger. Then the shots must have registered because she gasped and jerked. The sudden movement sent her knee into his happy place. He groaned in abject agony and dropped heavily on top of her.

  “Oh, gosh, I’m so sorry, DJ.” She wiggled a hand between them to smooth over the throbbing area. He had just enough strength to grab her wrist.

  “Are you kidding me?” he choked out. Battered and bruised, her touch would have Big Dan saluting in no time. Hell, he could be dead for six weeks and she would still have him rising to the occasion.

  He forced his head up to scan for the shooter but saw none. Not gunshots apparently, but a car backfiring.

  “Is everyone okay?” a man asked, jogging to their side.

  “Define okay,” Dan gritted out as he rolled off Kait to lie on his back in the grass with his eyes closed. He took a mental note at all of his injuries but there appeared to be too many to count. Or maybe it was that he was having trouble counting.

  “I saw the whole thing. The car got away but I got the plate number. You look like you need an ambulance, bud.”

  “S’all good,” he wheezed, hoping like hell he would be able to stand as he took the man’s outstretched hand. He hissed as he put weight on his damaged hip. He saw his hopes at becoming the next US Ninja Warrior sinking faster than a three-hundred-pound couch potato attempting cannonball alley.

  “What is it?” Kait was instantly by his side.

  “Just a little ding,” he downplayed.

  “The car got you, dude,” the man said. “You’re lucky to be alive.”

  Before he could stop her, Kait was lifting his shirt and tugging at his cargo shorts to examine his side. He batted her hands away. “I’m fine.”

  “Wow, Dan, when did you get so ripped?” The words were spoken with awe as she reverently ran her fingers down his washboard abs. There went Big Dan again. He had to stop her before he embarrassed himself. He grabbed her wandering hand and held it. He’d always been fit, but his ninja training had taken his body to the next level. He still wasn’t the specimen his brother Logan was, but he was proud of his hard work.

  Then a thought managed to thread its way through the fog in his brain. “Did I hurt you when I tackled you to the ground?”

  She shook her head. “You cushioned the blow. I didn’t even hear the car. The guy must’ve either been drunk or not paying attention if he was driving on the sidewalk.”

  Dan exchanged looks with the other guy who spoke before Dan could stop him.

  “It wasn’t an accident.”

  “What do you mean?” Kait’s gaze bobbed between the two men.

  “The car accelerated as soon as you turned the corner. He was aiming for you, ma’am.”

  #

  Kait’s world was in chaos. In less than twenty-four hours, she had to report to the studio and someone had just tried to kill her—actually tried to flatten her with an automobile.

  Dan insisted on driving her home. She muttered a token protest but her heart wasn’t into it. She was scared. While they’d waited around for the police, she thought about telling the cops about the things that had happened at work but she was pretty sure it was the machinations of a jealous co-worker. Amy might be petty and cruel but she didn’t think she actually wanted her dead. She just couldn’t picture the woman trying to mow her down.

  The witness, Ricky something, stuck around to give his account of what had happened and provide the police with a description of the car. She couldn’t offer much to the conversation since she hadn’t even known what was happening until it was over.

  “Is there anyone you can think of that would do this?” one of the cops asked.

  Kait’s gaze swung to Dan. He gaped at her. “You’re kidding me,” he mouthed.

  She fought a smile. She and Dan annoyed each other constantly, but she didn’t seriously think he’d actually attempt vehicular manslaughter. She shook her head. “No, no one.”

  The cop stepped back to listen to his walkie-talkie and then said something into the mic before returning to them. “They found the car abandoned a couple of blocks away. It’d been reported stolen earlier today. I’ll get techs there to dust for prints. We’ve got an attempted murder charge along with grand theft.”

  It boggled her mind that someone tried to run her over. Could it be one of the other contestants on the show? Were they attempting to eliminate competition before it even started? But that didn’t make sense. If someone was unable to compete, a substitute would be appointed. Maybe it was one of the two alternates. The only way they’d get the chance to participate was if something happened to one of the six original cast members before filming started.

  Now that she thought about it, there were many possibilities of people wanting her dead. “Something just occurred to me.” She told the cops about the show and her opinions on someone eliminating the competition.

  The cops clearly weren’t convinced. “That seems a little far-fetched,” one said.

  “We’ll make a note of it for the file,” the other said but his skepticism was clearly written on his face.

  His words caused a jolt of panic. They’d have to create a case file. Her name would be on it. Luke was a former detective and still had many friends in the department. It was only a matter of time before word got around to him. She didn’t want her brother to know what had been happening or his protective instincts would come out in full force. Hell hath no fury like the Colton brothers avenging their baby sister. Maybe she should tell Dan. He’d keep the secret if she asked him to. They shared many secrets over the years and he’d never told one. More memories bombarded her.

  Kaitlyn waited in line behind the other second graders to file out of the classroom. Ms. Stansfield was handing out the results of the last spelling test. Kaitlyn thanked her but was crushed to see the big red D minus. “Oh no.” She had a feeling she didn’t do well but she’d been hoping for a B minus, possibly a C. She promised her parents she’d studied but instead she’d been outside playing kickball with the neighborhood kids. Her allowance was on the line since she didn’t do well on the last ungraded pop quiz.

  Danny glanced over her shoulder. “Wow, is that a D?”

  “Shh,” she scolded, hiding the paper against her chest.

  “Who misspells tray?”
<
br />   She did. She used an e instead of an a.

  “I can’t believe you got a D,” Danny hooted. “You always get A’s.”

  She did always get A’s. Her stomach cramped. “What did you get?”

  “B minus.”

  Great. The grade she’d hoped for.

  “Don’t you have to have your mom sign something?”

  How should she know? She’d never gotten a D before. She looked at the paper and the attached note that required her parents’ signature acknowledging that they saw the grade. Her shoulders slumped. There was no way she could let them see the paper. Maybe she could talk Ben or Grant into faking a signature. But then they’d have something to hold over her forever. They’d probably make her wash their stinky socks or clean their smelly rooms. No, she’d have to do this on her own.

  “Come-on.” She grabbed Danny’s hand and hurried to the cafeteria. She plunked down her backpack and rooted around inside.

  “What are you doing?” Danny asked.

  She pulled out the paper with her mom’s signature. “You’re going to help me sign my mom’s name.”

  “Un-uh.” He scooted away and shook his head.

  “Oh, come-on,” she cajoled. “Didn’t I give you the answers to the math quiz?”

  He looked like he wanted to argue but he slapped a hand on the table. “Fine.”

  She opened a notebook and ripped out some blank paper. She tried several times, failing miserably. They all looked like what they were…the scribbling of a child.

  “I’ve got an idea,” Danny announced. He scooted the test page over to her. “Go ahead and sign.”

  “But they don’t look at all like my mom’s.”

  “Just do it,” he huffed.

  “All right.” She scribbled the name and it didn’t look any better on the official paper than it did on the test papers. Tears gathered in her eyes.

  “Wait a second.” He disappeared and then returned with a can of pop.

  “Where did you get that?” She glanced around the cafeteria making sure no teachers were in sight. “We aren’t supposed to have sodas.”

  “I swiped it from the janitor’s closet. He keeps a supply in there.”

  “You stole for me?”

  The tips of Danny’s ears turned red. “I didn’t steal it. I left some change.” He popped the top and then tipped the can.

  “Hey.” Kaitlyn screamed, grabbing the paper away.

  “No, don’t,” Danny said. He took it from her and then added a bit more soda before he mopped it with a napkin. He handed it back to her with a flourish. You could still read the name but it was smeared from the liquid.

  She looked up at Danny in awe. “It’s perfect. How did you know how to do that?”

  “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

  “You watch too much TV.”

  “You don’t watch enough.”

  “Do so.”

  “Do not.”

  “Shut up.”

  “You shut up.” He stuck his tongue out in typical boy-speak.

  Kaitlyn slugged him.

  Danny grabbed his arm and rubbed. “Ow. That hurt.” His lower lip puffed out and started to tremble.

  “Grant told me if a boy was being a meanie, that I could slug him.”

  “I wasn’t being a meanie,” he pouted.

  “You stuck your tongue out at me.”

  Danny’s breath hitched as he inhaled and he sniffed. “If you think I’m a meanie, then I guess I am. I’m telling everyone Miss Perfect got a big fat D.” He stood. “Minus,” he added petulantly.

  “Don’t you dare.”

  Danny grabbed his bag and her spelling quiz and stomped out of the cafeteria. “Hey!” Kaitlyn quickly gathered her papers and shoved them in her bag. She didn’t bother zipping it up as she scrambled after him. She skidded out of the cafeteria and looked both directions. She didn’t see him anywhere. She took off for the parking lot. She pushed the doors open with both hands. “Danny.”

  He was running for his brother’s car and he dove in the back seat. Logan saw her and waved out the window. He said something to Danny, whose head whipped from side to side and he crossed his arms. Logan nodded in understanding, gave her a little wave, and drove off.

  Kaitlyn’s shoulders drooped as she plodded to her mom’s car as if she were headed to the principal’s office. She probably would be, tomorrow. Ben raced ahead of her and jumped inside. She debated whether to tell her mom now or wait until Danny did the deed for her. He had the paper…the proof of her crime. She decided to wait.

  She ran to her room as soon as she got home, not wanting even to play. When dinner rolled around, her stomach hurt so much, she could barely eat. When the doorbell rang at six, she was dismayed to see Danny and Logan when Luke opened the door. He was here to tell her parents.

  “What’s up?” Luke asked.

  “We came to return Kaitlyn’s notebook. Dan said he picked it up by mistake and thought she might need it.”

  “Kait,” Luke called.

  She hustled over and took the book. Wait…it wasn’t hers. It said Danny Bradley in big, black letters. Danny wouldn’t even look at her. “We’re headed to the batting cages. Want to come?”

  “Sure,” Luke said. He hollered and told his parents he’d be back later. Then he followed Logan and Danny outside.

  Kait stared at the door before returning her attention to the notebook in her hands. She flipped through it and a paper fluttered out and drifted to the floor. She pounced on it and gasped. Her test. Danny hadn’t told on her? He’d not only kept her secret, he’d returned the evidence.

  Chapter Six

  On the ride to her house, Kaitlyn begged Dan not to mention the little incident to Luke.

  “Little incident?” he repeated incredulously. “Someone tries to reduce you to a big red stain on the pavement and you call that little?”

  It took almost every weapon in her arsenal, including tears, to convince him. She had one tool left. Sex. She wasn’t afraid to use it. But the tears did the job and he finally caved, reluctantly and with the caveat that if they found out who was behind the wheel, he had to tell. She agreed, figuring they’d cross that bridge when they came to it.

  She decided that before she told Dan about all of the things that happened at the restaurant, she’d question Amy. She wasn’t afraid of confrontation. Growing up with three overbearing brothers had cured her of that trait early.

  Surprisingly, Amy was at the restaurant when Kait arrived for her shift, giving her the perfect opportunity. Before all of this started, Kait didn’t have a problem with the other chef. They’d never been friends, but they were at least civil to each other. As she approached, Amy glared at her and turned away. Kait marched up to her. “Do you have a problem?”

  Amy spun around. “Excuse me?”

  “I asked if you had a problem with me. Are you trying to sabotage my participation on Killer Cuisine?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Amy sniffed and turned her back to Kait.

  Kait walked around to face her. “I think you do. And just a friendly piece of advice, you don’t want to mess with me.”

  Amy narrowed her eyes. “No, you don’t want to be messing with me.” She stomped off and disappeared into the dining area. That pretty much convinced Kait that Amy was responsible for the attacks. She considered going after her, but she needed to get prep work done before the crowds arrived. She would deal with Amy later.

  “What was that about?” Henry walked over and tossed a dish towel over his shoulder. “She’s such a bitch.”

  “I think she tried to kill me today.”

  Henry’s jaw dropped open. “What?”

  Kait nodded. “Someone tried to hit me with a car while I was running. I think it was Amy.”

  Henry grabbed her shoulders and looked her over. “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

  She smiled at him. “I’m fine. A friend happened to be close by and saved me before the car coul
d do any damage.”

  “Thank God.” Henry’s brows slanted and then he shook his head. “She’s a major bitch, Kait, but I can’t see her doing something like that.”

  She exhaled. “I really can’t either. But after the things that happened here…”

  “It could all be coincidences.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  “Well, no, but I’d hate to think that someone I knew would be capable of such vehemence.”

  Kait did, too. Even worse, that she inspired that kind of hatred. Hours later when she was leaving work, she stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted her car. Her mouth fell open. Stunned, she circled around to the other side. All four tires were slashed.

  Anger quickly replaced shock. “That’s it.” She’d had enough. Amy crossed a line. She jerked out her phone, not sure who she’d actually call when headlights flicked across the parking lot. She jammed her hand in her purse and fingered her pepper spray, just in case. It was late and the restaurant was closed, but Henry and others were still inside cleaning. The vehicle could be picking someone up. The SUV pulled up to her and the window lowered.

  “Dan? What are you doing here? It’s late.”

  “I just wanted to check and see if you were okay after I tackled…” He broke off as his gaze landed on her tires. Before she knew it, he’d shoved the Escalade into park and swung out. He checked the passenger side and then padded around to the driver’s side. “Who did this?” His jaw was clenched tight, his voice low but lethal.

  “I’m not sure, but I have a pretty good idea.” Now was as good a time as any. She told him about all of the problems starting with the missing spices and ending with the slashed tires.

  Dan looked ready to pound some flesh, and she was afraid she might be the main target of his rage. His next words confirmed it.

  “Why the holy hell didn’t you tell me this before?”