Getting Skinny (A Chef Landry Mystery)

by Domovitch, Monique

  “That’s not what the cops told me,” he cut in. “They’re still convinced you’re guilty. They came back and asked me if there was any way you could have known about Rob’s affair before the night of the party. From what I heard, they interviewed everyone again, asking them all the same thing.”

  My mouth grew dry. This was so not what I wanted to hear. Somehow I’d convinced myself that the police were losing interest in me as a suspect.

  “When was that?”

  “Sorry, Nicky,” he interrupted, “my phone is ringing.” He got up and stepped away, clutching his phone. Moments later he reappeared. “I have a patient who’s not doing too well. I have to go.” He signaled for the bill. “You stay and enjoy your dinner. We’ll have to do this again.” He kissed me on the cheek and left.

  The waiter was hovering over me. “Would you like to take this home?”

  I shook my head and pushed away my barely touched meal. “No, thank you. I’ll be leaving, too.” I folded my napkin on the table, and the waiter pulled out my chair.

  Had Harry’s phone even rung? I certainly hadn’t heard it. On the other hand, it could have been set to vibrate, but his quick exit felt contrived.

  I was more convinced than ever of Harry’s guilt.

  *

  When I walked into my house, it was to a scene straight out of hell. I stood paralyzed in the entranceway. The living room lamps were on the floor, books were ripped apart, sofa cushions slashed. My home was destroyed. The spaghetti alla carbonara churned dangerously in my stomach. Someone had broken into my house. Again!

  Then it hit me. “Jackie!” I screamed. I ran through the house in a panic. Every room was worse than the last. In the kitchen, cabinet doors had been torn off their hinges. In the bathroom, everything from the medicine cabinet was in the sink and on the floor. A bottle of cough syrup had been shattered in a million sticky pieces, now strewn all over the cream porcelain tile. The office was a complete disaster—printing paper all over, my computer on the floor, the screen smashed. I reached my bedroom. Drawers had been pulled out of the bureau, and clothes were littered everywhere, but of Jackie, not a sign.

  I called her name again, running back down the hall. Suddenly, I heard a small yelp. I rushed back to the bedroom, and there she was, huddled and trembling under the bed.

  “Come little girl.” She scooted over. I picked her up and hugged her close, shaking with relief. “Thank God you’re all right.”

  It was only hours later—after I’d notified the police, after they’d come and taken my deposition while making it clear they thought I’d staged the whole thing, after Mitchell had helped me board up the back door where the thief had broken in, after Toni had come running and helped me clean up, after I’d showered and climbed into bed—it was only after all that, that it dawned on me. Harry Johnson had arrived at the restaurant thirty minutes late. Ample time to trash my place.

  But why? If he’d already broken in once, what was the point of doing it again? Or had this been a warning? The bastard! How dare he try to scare me! If that was his intention, he had gravely miscalculated. I was mad as hell.

  keeping the universe balanced

  First things first. The next day, I called a security company. I’d already sprung for the cost of all new locks, but if I had to put in a security system to feel safe, so be it. I refused to let the creep chase me out of my own home. This, however, would cost money. Money I didn’t have. Thank goodness for credit cards. I pushed my financial worries out of my mind, concentrating on my to-do list.

  By ten o’clock, I had a security expert booked. In the meantime I cleaned. I filled a bucket with hot water. The scrubbing would exorcise all creepiness that bastard had imbued into my home. It could only be Harry Johnson, right? I’d already eliminated Charles as a suspect. But, an intrusive thought insisted, you never took a good look at Toni.

  I dropped the brush for a moment and examined the possibility that my best friend could have killed my boyfriend, and a memory popped into my mind. The night of the murder, when Toni had returned to the restaurant, I’d been surprised to see her wearing a baseball cap. Jake had described the person walking with Rob that night as thin and wearing baseball cap. A wave of dizziness hit me and I sat on my haunches. Other memories came racing back—the leather jacket in Toni’s closet, the way she’d cleaned out my fridge after my allergic reaction. I shook my head, trying to rid it of those crazy thoughts. Toni was my friend. Why would she have killed Rob? Why would she have tried to kill me?

  Having concluded that I was definitely becoming paranoid, I resumed my cleaning. I was ninety-percent sure the intruder was Harry Johnson, but, just in case, from now on I would keep a watchful eye on my best friend.

  The next day, I was raring to return to work. I’d hardly slept the past two nights, every creak in the house nearly sending me into hysterics. But as of yesterday, I owned a security system complete with a panic button and a siren powerful enough to wake the entire city. If the creep decided to drop by for a surprise visit, one little press of the panic button would startle the man out of his skin. Six days, that was how long I had to wait. Six short days until my dinner party, and then I would bring him down. In the meantime, I would busy myself at the restaurant.

  As I stepped into Skinny’s kitchen, I heard Jake scream, “Get that lobster away from that counter. What are you trying to do? Kill Nicky?”

  Thank goodness somebody here had my back. The last thing I needed now was another episode of anaphylactic shock. I picked up the reservation book and checked the evening’s bookings. Damn. Another blank page. Two in a row, the worst run we’d ever had. I closed the book. Oh well, a quiet night meant we could work on perfecting our skinny recipes. A few minutes later, Toni walked in wearing a red jersey dress, which clung to her curves in a most revealing way.

  “Wow, you look great,” I said, forcing myself to behave normally around her. “Do I take it you have a date tonight?”

  She gave a little shoulder wiggle. “Yes. And he is hot.” She came over and rubbed my arms. “How are you doing?”

  “I’m fine,” I answered breezily. “Do me a favor. Let’s stop talking about this. All it does is bring it back.”

  She ignored my request. “Any news from the police?”

  “You’re kidding, right? Why would they look into a breakin when they’re busy building a case against me?”

  “Did they question Harry Johnson?”

  I shrugged. “You know what? I don’t care anymore.” I stopped. “Actually, I take that back. I’d rather they did nothing. I’ll get him myself.” I headed for the kitchen.

  “I don’t think I like the sound of this,” Toni called after me.

  I turned swiftly. “You don’t like the sound of this? That’s laughable. Every time I tell you not to get involved, you ignore my warnings and jump right in, and then you blame me for getting you into trouble.”

  She looked taken aback. “Maybe you’re right. Best if we don’t talk about it.”

  After a few deep breaths, I calmed myself. Toni’s iPhone rang and she fished through her purse to retrieve it. “Eight o’clock?” she asked whoever was on the line. It was a male voice, and it sounded like… She glanced at me, turned away and whispered, “Great. See you then.” She dropped it in her bag.

  “That sounded an awful lot like your ex.”

  She hesitated, then casually said, “He wants us to have dinner.”

  “And?”

  She shrugged. “We need to go over some financial stuff—about the divorce settlement.”

  “You’ve been divorced three years, and now he wants to talk alimony? Who do you think you’re fooling?” For once, I had the satisfaction of seeing Toni blush. “You don’t owe me any explanation, Toni. Just promise you’ll invite me to the wedding.”

  “Wedding! Are you crazy?” she shrieked. “As far as I’m concerned, bigamy and marriage are the same thing. In both cases, there’s one husband too many.”

  She stomped
off to the kitchen, leaving me giggling. That was Toni. Even when I felt like shit, I could always trust her to make me laugh.

  *

  Later, I let myself into the house and punched in my new security code as Jackie came galloping over. I felt better having the alarm system, despite the six-thousand-dollar credit-card charge. It had been worth it. I almost felt safe again. I picked up Jackie and smothered her with kisses.

  “Do you know that you still smell of skunk, Jackie Chan?” After every bath I gave her, the smell had gradually come back, increasing in intensity until six or seven days later she reeked again.

  I walked to the mudroom. “I know it’s not your fault. But if you hadn’t gone running around, you’d still smell like your sweet little self.” I put her down, turned on the outside light and opened the door. She ran out, and seconds later was back. “Okay, it’s bath time for you.”

  I took out the doggie shampoo and Jackie began to whimper and struggle. I sighed. “Oh, all right. But we’ve got to do something. You can’t go around stinking forever.” As soon as her paws hit the ground, she scampered off in a panic. I was putting on my pajamas with Jackie watching nervously from under the bed when the obvious solution occurred to me. Jackie needed her hair clipped. She might not look very pretty for a while, but she’d be rid of the smell.

  The next morning, however, when I called the groomers, the earliest appointment she could get was a week away.

  I noted the date and time and hung up. “Well, Jackie. You’ll just have to keep on stinking for a little while longer.” When I picked her up for a quick cuddle, I noticed again that she felt heavier. “You are fat, you little monkey.” She looked at me, insulted, as I patted her little body. “I guess you and I are keeping the universe balanced.”

  *

  Jake and I were in the dining room, discussing the restaurant’s lack of customers, when a UPS van stopped at the door.

  The driver came staggering in under the weight of a large cardboard box. When he let it drop, the floor shook from the impact. “Delivery from Effect Advertising.”

  Jake jumped up and down, whooping. “It’s got to be our new menus and the flyers. I can’t believe how fast you got them printed.” He called out to the others in the back. “Hey guys, come and see.” Marley came rushing out of the kitchen, followed by Scott and Charles.

  “Sign here, please.” The delivery man handed me a pen, and I scribbled my name. A minute later, he was driving away. Meanwhile, the guys had already torn open the box. Within minutes they had dumped the old menus into the trash can and replaced them with the Skinny Menus.

  I put a hand to my heart. Now that they were actually here, I was filled with worry. What if this didn’t work? What if all the effort we put into this new menu didn’t improve the business one bit?

  “Don’t look so glum. This was your idea, remember?” Charles said.

  “I know we set the launch of our new menu for tomorrow, but are we ready? Do we have all the ingredients we need?”

  He waved my concern away and tore open one of the boxes. “We’ve had the ingredients stocked ever since we started developing the skinny recipes.” He pulled out a stack of menus and handed one to Jake and one to Marley. “They look amazing,” he said, running his finger down the list of dishes.

  “Really good, Nicky,” Marley agreed. He put down the menu and grabbed a bunch of flyers. “And so do these.” His face lit up. “I have an idea. I’ll take some with me tonight and deliver them in my neighborhood.”

  Jake handed one to me. “You look great. Feel proud.”

  I’d only lost a bit over fifteen pounds for the after shot, yet I looked sooo much thinner. Toni had done my makeup, and I looked almost beautiful. Suddenly, I couldn’t stay inside anymore waiting for customers to magically appear. It felt so passive. What I would do was go out and get them myself.

  “Charles, take over the cooking tonight. I have to go.” I grabbed a pile of flyers and hurried out.

  what color will you

  paint the nursery?

  At home, I printed out a full list of Weight Watchers meetings, picked a comfortable pair of running shoes and put Jackie on her leash. A few minutes later, I was on my way. I decided that the first area to target was St. Clair and Avenue Road. I parked my car on a side street and walked Jackie up and down the streets, slipping flyers under windshield wipers. By the time I ran out of flyers, I was just getting into the groove. “What do you say, Jackie? Want to keep going?” She wagged her tail.

  I picked up a fresh pile of flyers from my trunk and walked up and down the surrounding streets, stuffing flyers into mail slots. By the time it grew dark, my legs ached and my feet were in blisters. Even Jackie was dragging. “I don’t know about you, little girl, but I’m exhausted. Let’s go home.” She glanced at me with a sudden spark of excitement.

  *

  The message light on my phone was flashing. “This is Tina from the dog groomers to let you know we have an opening tomorrow for Jackie.”

  “Did you hear that? Tomorrow you’re getting a haircut, shampoo and blow dry.” Jackie looked at me in disgust and marched off to her kennel. “You’re an ungrateful dog, Jackie Chan,” I called after her. “I, for one, would love to go to a spa. Do you realize that I spoil you more than I spoil myself?”

  The only answer I got was ruf.

  “You’ve got that right. My life is rough.”

  *

  The pretty blonde girl behind the counter picked up Jackie and ruffled her hair. “Good morning, Jackie. Are you ready for your bath?” Jackie looked at her warily. The girl wrinkled her nose. “Oh, is that skunk I smell on her?”

  I nodded. “It sure is. She got sprayed over a month ago, and I’ve shampooed her at least a few dozen times. She smells good for a few days, but the odor keeps coming back.”

  She nodded, sympathetically. “I’ve come across this before. The smell gets absorbed into the fur, and the only way to get it completely out is a full shave.”

  Jackie’s ears popped up, and she looked at me with imploring eyes.

  I gave her a reassuring pat. “Oh, I don’t want her shaved.”

  The girl chuckled. “She’s got such long hair. I think if we just get rid of a few inches, that’ll do it. How about a puppy cut?”

  “That sounds perfect. Can I pick her up around one o’clock?”

  I left the groomer’s, went straight to Skinny’s and picked up another pile of flyers. I took a peek at the evening’s bookings. Eight customers! That was more than we usually had. I walked to my car with a new skip in my step.

  *

  By one-thirty, I’d delivered another two bundles of flyers, and my feet were killing me. I returned to the groomer’s. The blonde was behind a glass wall, combing out a humongous sheep dog. She waved, disappeared into a back room, and reappeared a moment later with a shivering but perfectly coiffed Jackie, who threw me a reproachful look.

  “Oh, Jackie! You look so bee-oo-tee-full.” I gathered her into my arms and buried my nose in her neck. “And you smell so good.”

  “You should have told me that she’s pregnant,” the girl said, writing up the bill. “How far along is she?”

  “Jackie is…pregnant?”

  Now it was her turn to be surprised. “You mean, you didn’t know?”

  “I—I had no idea.” I looked at Jackie, and her ears perked up. “How the hell? Jackie, I thought you’d been spayed.”

  *

  Jake was putting down the phone as I walked into Skinny’s. “Hey, where did you disappear to last night?”

  I plopped into the nearest chair and pulled off my shoes. “I told you. I went to deliver flyers.”

  “All evening?” he asked, flapping a tablecloth.

  I threw him an injured look. “I delivered more this morning, and I have the sore feet to prove it.”

  “I delivered some, too,” he said, smoothing the cloth over the table. “I must have dropped off a couple of hundred all around Little Italy.”


  I bent over and massaged my feet. “I just hope all this pain pays off.”

  Jake set salt and pepper shakers on the table and turned to me, grinning. “It already has. We had a group of women around eight o’clock last night. They had a million questions about our skinny menu. When I asked them where they’d heard about us, they said they got flyers on their cars.”

  I sat up. “Really? They came in because of the flyer?”

  “Sure did, and guess what? They loved us and promised to come again.”

  The front door swung open and Toni waltzed in, wearing a contented smile. Her expression was one of such bliss that I couldn’t help but poke fun at her. “You look like a well-loved woman this morning.”

  She wiped the smile off her face and replaced it with a neutral expression. “How many reservations do we have for tonight?” she asked, all business.

  Jake strode over to the reservation desk and picked up the book. “Ta-da!” With a flourish, he handed it to Toni.

  She ran her finger down the list, and her eyes nearly popped. “Did Sugar’s kitchen catch on fire again?”

  “Better than that,” I told her, beaming.

  “The only thing better would be if the place burned down completely.” She raised her right hand. “And if it did, I swear I had nothing to do with it.”

  “Much better than that.” But before Jake could explain, the telephone rang again. “Skinny’s on Queen,” he answered in an affected tone. He gestured to Toni to hand him the reservations book. “A table for three at seven-thirty. We look forward to seeing you, Mrs. Margate.” He hung up and turned to Toni. “We’ve even got some reservations for tomorrow.” He flipped the page, pointing to a couple of entries. “See? I know there aren’t that many, but when was the last time we had any customers reserve a full day ahead?”

  Toni looked from Jake to me and back again. “But how?”