Getting Skinny (A Chef Landry Mystery)

by Domovitch, Monique

  She wasn’t convinced. “Who else knows about this?”

  “No one. I haven’t told a soul.”

  “Keep it that way. You don’t want it to get back to Harry somehow.”

  As I hung up, Toni called me from the dining room. “Can she come over?”

  “She’ll try to come over in a while.”

  “That’s good. How do you want me to set the table? There are eight people and only six chairs.”

  “Not anymore. Janice and Simon won’t be able to make it.”

  “Oh, no. All that lovely food you bought.” She furrowed her forehead, and then brightened up. “I know. I’ll come, and I’ll bring a date.”

  I glanced at her. “And who would that be?”

  She shrugged and turned away, but not before I noticed that secret little smile again.

  “Fine, don’t tell me. I’ll find out soon enough.”

  Her face became unreadable. “Back to my question.” She gestured to the table.

  “I think buffet style. Just set the plates in a pile and wrap the utensils in the napkins. That way we can pull a few of the chairs to the living room and there will be plenty of room for everyone.”

  “Great idea. Informal is always more comfortable. As they say, ‘Hospitality is making your guests feel at home, even if you wish they were.’”

  I returned to my chopping, laughing. An hour later, the preparations were complete. The salsa was marinating in the refrigerator, the fresh salmon divided into exact portions, the parsley chopped and the cherry tomatoes soaking up the sun by the window. By tomorrow, they’d be ripe and sweet. All I had left to do was steam the rice and grill the fish, both chores I’d leave till the last minute.

  “Let me help you pick an outfit,” Toni said, moving toward the stairs.

  I wiped the counter and hurried upstairs where Toni was already raiding my closet. I stopped in the doorway and took in the scene. Everything I owned was draped somewhere—on the bed, hanging from the door handle, the drawer pulls, even from the curtain rod. “I can’t believe I have so many clothes.”

  “Well,” Toni said in her snootiest tone. “Don’t get all excited. Most of these are only good for the Salvation Army. Girl, it’s time you and I went shopping.” She resumed her normal voice. “You clearly need some guidance.”

  “I, uh, would love to, but until the restaurant brings in enough money…”

  Toni sighed. “Oh, pooh. You spend too much time worrying. Tell you what, I’ll take you shopping. We’ll call it an early birthday present.”

  “My birthday is in April.” I quickly counted on my fingers. “That’s in eight months.”

  She shrugged. “Oh, all right, a very early birthday present.”

  After going over a few makeup techniques and making me model half a dozen different outfits, Toni at last found one of which she approved, a dress I’d only worn once, years ago, for a sixties party.

  I looked at it dubiously. “I don’t know about this. Don’t you think the style is sort of…?”

  “Don’t be silly. Since Mad Men, everything sixties is in again.” She adopted a stern look. “Tonight, I want you to relax. You have a hard day ahead of you tomorrow. What you need is a drink. You put all these clothes away, and I’ll go make you one.” Five minutes later, I joined her in the kitchen where she handed me a tall clear drink.

  “Don’t look so worried. It’s only a spritzer.”

  I picked up the glass and took a sip. “Mmm, this is good.”

  “My favorite drink, next to Champagne.” She lifted her glass in a salute. “To your health.”

  I noticed the open bottle of Chablis on the counter. “I was keeping that bottle for tomorrow night.”

  She shrugged. “I’ll bring you another one. Tell you what, I’ll bring you two. Here’s to catching the killer.” She lifted her glass again and took a sip.

  “There’s a toast I never thought I’d make.” I dared a small laugh.

  Toni glanced at her watch and gasped. “It’s already a quarter to six. I have to run. I’ll see you tomorrow.” Rushing out of the kitchen, she called over her shoulder. “And don’t worry. You’ll look gorgeous. You’ll have Mitchell wrapped around your little finger.”

  A second later, the front door slammed shut. Not thirty seconds later, the doorbell rang. I hurried to the door, already calling out, “What did you forget?” But when I opened, there stood Kim.

  “Do you mind if I come in? I need to talk to you for a moment.” Her demeanor was so serious—a far cry from her usual syrupy sweetness—that I let her in.

  She followed me to the kitchen and pulled herself a chair. “I haven’t been honest with you,” she said, fumbling through her purse.

  Something metallic caught the light and I gasped. Kim had a gun in her purse. I swallowed hard. Could she…? But what she pulled out was a leather card carrier. She flipped it open, displaying a police badge.

  “I’m an undercover cop,” she said. My mouth hung open. “The police had their eye on Rob for a long time.”

  “I…you…” I was so stunned, I couldn’t form a sentence.

  “Yes, that’s why I tried so hard to get close to you.” She chuckled. “But you are a hard nut to crack, Nicky Landry.” She said this with amusement.

  All at once I found my voice. “You were the one who searched my house the night Mona was killed, weren’t you?”

  She nodded. “I did. I was trying to find evidence to eliminate you as a suspect.”

  “So you did that without a search warrant?”

  She put a finger in front of her mouth in the international sign for secret. “I’m sorry I had to resort to kidnapping Jackie to get you out of the house. But I needed to make sure you stayed out for at least half an hour. She was completely safe the entire time—in my car, parked a couple of blocks away.” She smiled apologetically. “Her getting pregnant was not part of the plan. But I left them alone in the car while I was searching your house. I guess they did what came naturally.”

  “If you had her the whole time, how did Jackie get sprayed by a skunk?”

  “My mistake. I took them for a quick walk through the park and Jackie got loose for a few minutes. She came scrambling back, stinking to high heaven.”

  “So Charlie was not lost that night,” I said, as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. “He wasn’t even at the clinic was he?”

  “I made that up so you wouldn’t worry about what breed of puppies you’d be getting.”

  “What about the second breakin?”

  She shook her head. “Not me.”

  My head was spinning.

  She continued. “I had to come forward and tell you everything because the police would like you to wear a wire during your party tomorrow.”

  “They want me to—” A thought occurred to me. “Does that mean they believe I’m innocent?”

  She smiled. “Maybe not entirely, but you’ve got me on your side, and I’ll do whatever I can to make sure they catch the right guy.”

  “So you think Harry Johnson is the killer?”

  “That seems the most logical possibility.” She dropped her badge back into her purse. “So here’s what I want you to do.”

  She laid out the plan. I would go to the station an hour before the party and get wired up.

  She stood. “By tomorrow, this whole nightmare will be a thing of the past,” she said, making her way to the door. “Oh, and by the way. You can’t tell anyone about me. Right?”

  “Not a soul, I promise.”

  I was in such shock—Kim, a cop, who would have believed it?—that I completely forgot to tell her about the pills I’d found. By the time I remembered, she was gone.

  I raced out. She was two houses down, stepping into her car. I opened my mouth to call her but stopped. If I told her about the pills, Kim would take them away. And producing them during the dinner party would only make Harry’s confession more likely. I stepped back in and closed the door quietly.

  keeping
those pills one

  more night couldn’t hurt.

  pretend like nothing

  By ten o’clock I no longer expected Janice to drop by. I was hardly surprised. The woman was so devoted to her husband, I should have known she wouldn’t leave his side for a second longer than she needed to.

  I decided to call it a night and slipped into my pajamas, still light-headed from Kim’s revelation. All I had to do before bed was let Jackie out and lock up.

  “Let’s go, girl,” I called out, heading for the mudroom. Jackie waddled after me. I unlatched her doggie door, but Jackie parked her little butt on the floor and refused to budge. “What’s the matter? Are you getting a bit fat for your doggie door?” I asked, opening the back door and nudging her out. Jackie hopped down the stairs slowly. I was about to turn back inside when a movement in the shadows startled me. “Is somebody there?”

  “It’s me,” came the reply. I recognized Janice Bradley coming out of the darkness.

  “Janice, what in the world…?”

  “I’m so sorry. I scared you, didn’t I? I didn’t mean to do that.” She handed me a bottle of Champagne and a white cardboard box. “This is to say I’m sorry about canceling tomorrow. You can drink a toast to Simon and me. But the cookies are for right now.” She looked contrite. “Forgive me for coming so late. I realized how important it was that I look at those pills.”

  I was so grateful I wanted to throw my arms around her. “Thank you so much, Janice. It’ll be helpful to know what the pills are.” I stood aside as she brushed by.

  “Sorry I gave you a scare. I tried to find a parking spot on the street, but at this time it’s reserved for permit holders. Then I remembered that there are always spots in the alley.”

  Jackie came running in, and I locked up behind her.

  “Please excuse my outfit.” I gestured to my pink chenille robe. “How’s Simon doing? Is he feeling any better?” I inquired, following Janice to the kitchen.

  She grimaced. “He’s not doing well at all.”

  “I’m so sorry.” I put the Champagne into the refrigerator and reached into the cupboard for teacups. “You’ll have tea, won’t you?”

  “Absolutely.” She hesitated. “So, where are those pills?”

  “They’re upstairs. Should I get them now?”

  “No rush. Let’s have tea first. I’ve been looking forward to these cookies all the way over.”

  “We’ll just have to remedy that right now.” I turned on the stove for the kettle and carried plates to the table. Janice opened the box.

  “Yum, double chocolate chunk,” I said, putting one on my plate.

  “You’ll love them. I can’t believe how everything just fell into place today. A witness comes forward, and you find the pills.”

  “If it wasn’t for what Mrs. Grant told me, I might never have connected the dots.”

  Janice nodded. “What I don’t understand is why that neighbor didn’t come forward sooner.”

  “She’s just an old woman. And she didn’t actually see anything. She’s nearly blind, but her hearing is perfect. She heard the argument between Harry and Rob.”

  The kettle whistled and I turned to shut off the stove. I was dropping the teabags into the teapot when I caught Janice’s reflection in the glass cupboard door. It was like looking at a stranger—a tight-jawed, stone-cold stranger. I was startled. It happened so fast, I wondered if I’d imagined it. I came out of my trance to Janice asking me something.

  “Where does that neighbor live exactly?”

  “Next door,” I said, setting the cups and saucers on the table. “How do you take your tea, Janice?” As soon as I asked, I remembered that the last time she’d been here she’d wanted cream. I was about to tell her that all I had was milk when she replied, “Black, please.”

  “But—” I stopped myself as I remembered something else. The last time Janice had visited was the day I’d had that allergic reaction. Janice had been rummaging through my fridge, looking for the cream she apparently doesn’t use. Don’t get paranoid. Still. Could Janice have put something in my food?

  But how could she have known about my allergy? Hold on—the evening Janice and Simon had dinner at Skinny’s, she’d mentioned the restaurant Seafood Palace. That’s when I told her I was deathly allergic to oysters. Oh, no. But why? Keep a straight face. Pretend like nothing happened. My heart was pounding like an off-balance washing machine.

  Janice indicated the cookie on my plate. “Taste it. They’re delicious.”

  “Thank you, I will.” I sat and sipped my tea.

  “You’re not touching your cookie,” she said with a touch of impatience. “It’s good. Try it. They’re from Newtown Bakery.” She took a bite of hers.

  “I, er, I thought I’d get that bottle of pills first. They’re in the upstairs bathroom.” Without waiting for her reply, I hurried down the hall toward the staircase at the foot of the front door. I had to make it outside.

  “I’ll come up with you,” Janice said.

  My blood cooled as I felt her right behind me, her murderous breath on my neck. “You don’t have to do that,” I said, nervously.

  “Oh, but I do,” she said, and something in her voice made me glance back.

  “Janice,” I began and froze as I found myself staring at the knife in her hand. “What the hell! I don’t understand…”

  “Don’t give me that innocent look. You might not know the whole story, but you know too much.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  She shook her head. “I saw the way you looked at me in the kitchen.” Tears welled in her eyes. If she was crying, surely she wouldn’t… “How did I give myself away?”

  “Really, I swear. I still don’t…” I stuttered, backing up slowly. If I could just make it to the door, maybe I could—

  “Where do you think you’re going?” She grabbed my forearm and twisted me around. Now she was behind me, holding my arm and pressing the knife to my throat. “Come away from there,” she ordered coldly. I froze. “Now, where are those pills?”

  I was tempted tell her about Kim being an undercover cop and say that she had taken them, but I knew she wouldn’t believe me. “Upstairs,” I replied, my voice tight with fear. “Wait. I’m your friend.”

  “Stop it. I didn’t want to have to do this. It’s nobody’s fault but your own. I tried to tell you to stay out of it, but nooo. You had to keep sticking your nose into it. Now move.” I felt the sharp point of the blade cutting into my skin. She guided me toward the staircase and spun me around again. “Come on. Up we go.”

  I took one backward step.

  “I didn’t want to kill anyone,” she continued, tears streaming down her face. “I only wanted to save Simon’s life. He has cancer.”

  One look at the devastation in her face, and everything began to make sense. Little things that had seemed inconsequential took on new meaning. “The evening of the party, you were upset when I mentioned that Simon looked better. Why?” She forced me up another step. “Did you think I knew about his cancer?”

  She gave me a sardonic smile. “They gave him six months to live. Can you imagine? And when I tried to get him on the blind study, he was turned down. I persuaded Rob to let me have the drugs off the record. Nobody had to know. Simon immediately felt better. Then, out of the blue, your boyfriend developed a conscience. He refused to give me more. He brandished that medication, telling me it was meant to save the life of a child. A child he didn’t even know, while his own friend—my Simon—was dying.” Janice pulled herself out of her sobs. “You understand, don’t you? I couldn’t let my Simon die.”

  “I understand. Really, I do.” I was desperate to calm her. The knife was still at my throat. “I would have done the same thing. I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”

  She laughed, but it came out strangled. “Of course you won’t. You’re going to give me those pills, and then you’re going to eat that cookie.”

  I was halfway up the stairs,
backing up as slowly as I could. Janice was climbing alongside me. I moved slowly, trying to delay the inevitable. There had to be some way. Keep her talking. “But why Mona? I don’t understand why you had to kill her.”

  “Mona was nothing but trouble. She had sharp eyes. She’d seen Rob hand me a package at the hospital and thought it was drugs. I wanted her out of the way at the party because Rob had promised to give me a package of medicine that night. But he didn’t, the bastard, so I followed him to your place.”

  I was almost at the top of the stairs now. Time was running out. I tried to distract her with more questions while searching for a way out. “What’s in the cookie? Poison?”

  She shook her head, no longer anguished, but determined. “No, not poison. Just a little bit of oyster juice, just enough to send you into shock. That way, your death will be an accident, a tragic one of course, but still an accident. A third murder would not be a good thing.” She saw the fear in my eyes and continued. “Or would you prefer the knife?” She chuckled. “That might be a more appropriate death for a chef.”

  I was on the last step, and as I climbed up to the landing, I knew I was out of time. I was about to die.

  Suddenly, I noticed a movement at my feet, nothing more than a quick blur, really. Jackie.

  Janice was a step lower and facing me, her back to the staircase. Jackie must have distracted her, too, because she glanced down, and my instincts kicked in. I punched her. The blow wasn’t hard, but it was enough. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion.

  She looked up at me, shock in her eyes, as she teetered backwards. She hovered there, her arms flapping wildly as she tried to regain her balance. But it was too late. She tumbled backward, and her body slammed against the stairs with a dull thud. She rolled down the stairs until she lay motionless at the bottom.

  I stood paralyzed at the top, my heart in my throat. “Janice?” I called looking down at her. She didn’t move. Next to me, Jackie whimpered, and I picked her up.

  I stayed in that spot for a long time, not knowing what to do. She could jump back up any second and try to finish what she’d started. At last I crept down the stairs slowly. She didn’t move. At the bottom, I hesitated before striding over her inert body. I was about to run out when I noticed the knife in her abdomen. At that moment, Janice’s eyes fluttered open. She was alive.