One Taste Too Many

by Debra H. Goldstein

  He eased himself into the space on the bench vacated by Harlan. “I know how it must feel to you, but sometimes people who’ve done something bad can’t face their loved ones.”

  Sarah slid a few inches away from him. She tried to focus on what he was saying, but none of it sounded logical. “Peter, I don’t care what Emily said. We’re sisters and I want to see her.”

  “I’m sorry. She was emphatic that she doesn’t want to see or talk to you. Like I said, sometimes people feel guiltier for not living up to expectations than for the crime they’ve committed.”

  Sarah rose. She faced him stiffly. “Peter, my sister isn’t guilty. I don’t know if she’s in shock or thinking she’s protecting me, but Emily didn’t kill anyone any more than I stole Mother Blair’s bracelet.”

  Peter didn’t flinch from her gaze.

  “You seem to take every accusation Jane makes as being truth. Maybe you should examine her veracity. What if, instead of being loyal to Bill, Jane moved on to Marcus? Perhaps they wanted Bill out of the way to have the restaurant and trust for themselves? Or, maybe Jane, for some unfathomable reason, is simply jealous of Emily and me?”

  “That’s not what the evidence says.”

  “Then it’s time you look for more evidence.” Sarah stalked out of the building.

  He called after her, but she ignored him, hoping he hadn’t seen the tears obstructing her vision. She absolutely refused to give Peter the satisfaction of seeing her cry.

  Sarah held herself erect until she reached the safety of her Honda’s front seat. As the windows fogged up, she rested her head on the steering wheel and let the tears flow until there were no more to cry. She pulled a tissue from a pack she kept in the console and wiped her eyes and nose. Although she turned on the ignition, she didn’t pull away.

  Being shut out by Emily made no sense. True, lately they hadn’t been as close as in the past, but just as she knew Emily would always have her back, she firmly believed Emily instinctively shared the same knowledge. Emily’s excessive deference to Marcus and her failure to mention Bill’s involvement in the restaurant were totally out of character, but not so far as to make her a murderer. It reminded Sarah of when Emily tap-danced around the truth to keep their parents from finding out Sarah had done something bad. Perhaps that was the answer. For some misguided reason, maybe Emily thought she was protecting her.

  But there was nothing Emily could be protecting her from this time. Her relationship or lack thereof with Bill since their divorce was out in the open. No, it couldn’t be her.

  She ran through the cast of other characters. Obviously, it wasn’t Jane, but who could it be? Grace, Jacob, and Richard competed against Emily for the sous chef position but only Richard seemed angry when Emily was promoted. The other two hadn’t displayed any negative reaction to the announcement. In fact, both Grace and Jacob helped Emily with everything that came up after she was named sous chef and the two came to Sarah’s aid after Emily’s arrest. Could they be hiding so much anger and disappointment at Emily’s selection to have sabotaged her?

  And what of Marcus? In the last few days, he’d run the gamut of emotions. Completely in despair, far more than a seasoned chef should have been, when the refrigerator cord was cut and the prepared food ruined and then ferocious when he thought Grace and Emily were poisoned.

  Was Emily risking her own future to protect someone who not only had sabotaged Southwind but might be a murderer?

  Maybe, once she got back to his office, Harlan and she could brainstorm something from all of this. She pulled out of the parking lot. Emily’s stuff was at their mother’s house, but that was the last place she was going to go. She didn’t have time. Sarah turned toward her own apartment. She had enough extra toiletries at home to easily make a care package for Emily. Besides, she could take a few minutes to check on RahRah before heading to Harlan’s office.

  Unlocking her door, Sarah smiled. RahRah lay stretched out in his sunny patch on the linoleum near the kitchen sink. He made a noise when she walked in but didn’t move.

  “Hey, RahRah. Are you having a good day?” She laughed at the series of sounds her cat made. No matter how bad a day she was having, RahRah could always make her smile. She plopped down on the small rug next to him and petted his head. “Talking to me, huh? Was it too quiet for you while I was gone?”

  Her finger caught in his red collar. She hadn’t noticed it had a small split in the leather. “You must have caught this on something the other night during your attic escapade.” She thought about changing it but decided playing with him was more fun than standing up and getting one of the many decorative collars Mother Blair had bought him.

  Sarah grabbed a pink rubber mouse lying nearby. She squeezed it until it emitted a squeak. Once she caught RahRah’s attention with the toy, she held it up so he could swat at it. Moving it around, she laughed at the intensity of his play. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

  After a few minutes of good playtime, she sighed and let him have the toy while she picked up his empty food bowl. She opened the cabinet she used as a pantry. To save time, she reached for the dry food container while keeping up a running conversation with the chattering cat. RahRah jumped up and stomped around the kitchen. “Don’t want this, huh? Rather have your other kind of food?”

  She put the dry food back in its place in the cupboard and showed him a can of his wet food. Sarah guessed he preferred it because she could swear RahRah’s purr sounded content as he curled himself into a ball and sat on her feet. He didn’t budge as she reached for the manual can opener lying on the counter.

  The can opener had belonged to her mother. It hadn’t worked well when she and Emily were kids and it was even less effective now, but she couldn’t bring herself to buy a replacement. With effort, she manipulated the opener until its lip caught the can’s edge and circled the top. She put the wet food in his dish.

  Extricating herself from RahRah, who was now interested in his meal, she searched her bathroom drawers for sample-size soap, deodorant, and toothpaste and a toothbrush to take to Emily. Or, she thought, at least for Harlan to deliver to Emily.

  The bag for the jail zipped, she checked if RahRah was finished. His food was barely touched. He looked at her and meowed. “I’m sorry, guy. I’d like to stay and play, but duty calls. Even if she won’t help us, Harlan and I need to find a way to get Emily out of this fine mess she’s gotten herself into.”

  Chapter Thirty

  “First you let Peter arrest my sister and now you want to talk about Jane taking RahRah.” She banged the drawer of the filing cabinet in the reception area shut. “I thought you are supposed to be representing Emily and me.”

  Sarah crossed the room with three quick strides and followed Harlan into his office. Keeping the manila file folder he held clutched to his chest, Harlan retreated to the far side of his desk.

  “What are you doing?” She pressed her palms into the desk and leaned forward on them. “Do you really think you can shield yourself from me with that flimsy folder?”

  “Of course not.” He laid the folder on his desk. “I’m simply giving you a moment to calm down and listen to reason.”

  “The only thing I want to hear from you is ‘how.’ How you’re going to get my sister out of jail and how you’re going to keep Jane’s hands off RahRah.”

  “Sarah, you’re not being fair. I’ve been working on Emily’s case, but like I already told you, she refuses to help me.” He pointed to a stack of law books piled on his desk. “I’ve looked for a precedent or something to use as a defense, but nothing seems to fit. Your sister may be obstinate, ornery, and unhelpful, but no one would believe she is crazy, temporarily insane, or acting in self-defense.”

  “But—”

  “The evidence Peter has looks bad. Maybe it won’t justify a finding of premeditated murder in Richard’s case, but between the fingerprints on the weapons and the blood and rhubarb all over your sister and her clothing, and Richard and Bill apparently h
aving enough dirt on Emily to get her kicked out of Southwind and maybe even the cooking field, Peter had good reason to arrest Emily.”

  Sarah jerked away from Harlan’s desk. “What about the tox reports? If they’re not back, how can he be sure Bill was murdered?”

  “They’re not back. Hopefully, the reports will exonerate Emily, but we can’t count on it. That’s why we should view this case from all angles. If I can’t find grounds for reasonable doubt, we also should consider what kind of a deal we might be able to strike.”

  “Are you talking about a plea bargain?” Sarah backed into Harlan’s guest chair, as if he had pushed her into it. “Harlan Endicott, you’re supposed to be on her side.”

  “I am. I really am.” He rubbed the back of his neck as a pained expression flitted across his face. “If there was something I could use to raise reasonable doubt . . .”

  “You’re missing something. I’m sure of it.”

  “Believe me, I’ve racked my brain over this.” He again pointed to the books on his desk.

  “Maybe the answer isn’t in those books.” She took a deep breath and swallowed before letting the words rush out. “I know you said we shouldn’t do any sleuthing, but Emily and I felt we had to. In fact, that’s why I was working in the Southwind booth.”

  “You don’t say.” He peered over his glasses. “It didn’t take a detective to figure that one out. Did you think I really believed Emily put you on the payroll for your culinary skills? So, what did you two super sleuths discover?”

  “Well, we realized Marcus and Jane are involved in something together.” She filled him in on the conversation she overheard outside the nurse’s station. “Control of Southwind could have been a motive for Marcus. By the same token, claiming the carriage house, RahRah’s trust, and a piece of Southwind might have made Bill’s death attractive to Jane. Emily and I haven’t even scratched the surface on Jacob and Grace yet, but we know Grace has had some dealings with the criminal justice system. We didn’t get time to compare notes before Peter arrested Emily. We’ve got to go back to the jail and talk to her.”

  “I’ll try but . . .” He lowered his voice and kept his eyes glued on his desk. “Emily doesn’t want to see you.”

  “I’ve heard.” She sunk back in her chair. “It doesn’t make sense to me. Until she came back from San Francisco, we’ve always shared everything.”

  “People change.”

  “Not as much as you’re saying. We’re missing something.”

  “Perhaps.” Harlan came around his desk. He parked himself on its edge, in front of Sarah. “Help me here. Your sister isn’t. You keep telling me you know something is different, but what is it?”

  He leaned into Sarah’s personal space. “I can’t sell a judge on your intuition. I need something concrete. What have you noticed? What is it that feels good or bad to you?” He bent so close to her that when Sarah raised her head, she could smell the sweetness of his aftershave. “Well?”

  Sarah ran the events of the past few months through her head. Nothing specific came to mind. In every instance she could think of, things had started as they always did and then Emily had drifted away. Work excuses were her main reason—hours on duty or a minor crisis. Come to think of it, Emily’s issue of the day always distracted her from whatever she planned to do with Sarah but wasn’t so major Emily, who normally never shut her mouth, felt the need to use Sarah as a sounding board. Until this moment, Sarah hadn’t understood how far outside Emily’s inner world she now was. “Secretive and silent—she’s the exact opposite of the Emily I’ve known since the day she started talking.”

  Harlan crunched his eyebrows, narrowing his eyes. “That certainly doesn’t help. Think of how the prosecutor will play that to a jury.” He stood and puffed his chest as he walked around the room and then assumed almost the same posture Emily struck when she’d been role-playing earlier in his office. “Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. The defendant and her sister were always close. They shared everything. That is, until lately, when she began holding her feelings and thoughts close to her heart.”

  Sarah jumped up and gave him a hug. “Harlan, you’re a genius!”

  “I think I’m missing something here. I’ve gone from slacking devil to genius?” He looked at his watch. “In the space of two minutes?”

  “Not even.” She laughed at his solemn frown and crossed arms. “Relax, you’re giving away your feelings in your body language. That’s exactly what Emily’s been doing. We simply didn’t see it.”

  “Sarah, go back a step. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “It’s simple. You’re one hundred percent right about her holding things close to her heart.” She waited for Harlan to catch up with her but then pressed forward. “Think about it. Emily has always been out there—hiding nothing. If Mom asked, ‘How was school?’ I’d say ‘fine,’ but Emily would lay out her day hour by hour. Why suddenly no run-on descriptions or random thoughts?”

  Harlan stared at Sarah, eyes wide.

  “Don’t you see? Emily hasn’t changed. She’s just sharing her feelings and everything important in her life with someone other than Mom or me. Someone close to her heart who she’s protecting.”

  “Someone close to her heart?”

  Sarah nodded. “Emily couldn’t wait to get out of Wheaton, but she came back willingly. Chef Marcus is up-and-coming, but she’s worked for bigger names. I don’t know exactly what happened in San Francisco, but figure it out. They’re both here now.”

  “And Emily is—”

  “Sharing food with him instead of me. We need to talk to Chef Marcus.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  “Whoa! Sarah, where do you think you’re going?”

  “To talk to Chef Marcus,” Sarah called over her shoulder, already in the reception area where her coat and purse were. “I just need to grab my jacket.”

  “Sarah, come back in here.” Harlan went behind his desk and sat down.

  Sarah returned to his doorway.

  “Chef Marcus? I thought you said Jane and Marcus were involved with each other? And now you’re pairing him off with Emily?”

  “I hadn’t thought about that. But logically, he’s got to be the one she’s protecting.”

  “While you think about it, please sit down again. We need to talk.” Harlan focused his attention on the file on his desk that he’d shielded himself with. Opening it, he shuffled the papers. He held a piece of paper up so she could see it from where she still stood in the doorway. “This is what we need to address, now.”

  RahRah’s name was at the top of the sheet. She couldn’t believe it. With everything else going on, how could Harlan and Peter still expect her to give up RahRah tomorrow? For a fleeting moment, she wondered what would happen if she simply refused. Would they arrest her, too? At least that might give her access to Emily.

  The front door chimed. Sarah shoved her thoughts about RahRah away while she walked back to her desk and checked the monitor. She buzzed in George Rogers, the nosy across-the-street neighbor from when she lived in the Main Street house with Bill. Not wanting to have him pry about Emily or Jane, she greeted him and returned to Harlan’s doorway, leaving Mr. Rogers cleaning his feet and the tip of his cane on the little carpet by the door.

  Harlan got up and poked his head around Sarah. “I’ll be with you in a few minutes, George. There should be a new Sports Illustrated on that table by the lamp.”

  Sarah barely moved out of the way quickly enough to keep Harlan from clipping her heels as he closed the door between his office and the waiting area. “Harlan?”

  He reached across his desk and picked up the sheet he had dropped. “Sarah, I run a business. For the past few days, it’s been the last thing getting my attention.” He looked at his watch. “I’ve got to discuss a few things with George and still be over at the courthouse in forty minutes.”

  “Court today?”

  “Judge Larsen is going on vacation next week and asked
me to run by his chambers this afternoon.”

  Sarah nodded. She didn’t know what it was about, but she knew that if the only active judge in town asked you to stop by his chambers, even on a Saturday, you went.

  “I know you don’t work on Saturdays, but would you do me a favor and please stay here and man the phone until I get back? I’ve been expecting a really important call this afternoon and it still hasn’t come in.”

  “But if I can catch Marcus, he might be able to help us find out who is framing Emily.”

  “Believe me, that’s not the issue for Emily this afternoon. Don’t worry,” Harlan hastened to add, “I promise I’ll help track down Chef Marcus later today. For now, we’ve got to take a minute to talk about RahRah.”

  He again held the document out to Sarah, who put her hands over her ears and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping no tears escaped them. She heard him drop the sheet on the stack in his folder and felt him place his hands on hers. Gently, he guided her hands away from her head and put a finger over her mouth.

  Eyes tearless and opened wide, she jerked her mouth away from his finger. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Nothing. Nothing, that is, except stopping you from wasting the little bit of time we have. You need to understand that Jane’s testamentary documents appear to be valid. Accordingly, she has the right, under state law, to take RahRah from your possession to live in the carriage house.” He paused as Sarah stumbled crossing the room to his guest chair. “Are you all right?”

  She brushed loose strands of hair back behind her ear. “I don’t care what Alabama code says. Bill gave RahRah to me. Jane can’t just waltz into my house and take him away. Can she?”

  “I’m afraid she can. Alabama has a statute for creating an animal trust. Under it, Bill’s mother could legally set up a trust, which she did, leaving money and even a home for RahRah. She named Bill as the trustee. Under the old trust law, if she didn’t establish a successor trustee, the court would have to name a successor, and we could have argued in court you should be the new trustee. The modified statute is more lenient. Bill was within his rights to make provisions if RahRah survived him. Whether we like it or not, it appears he appointed Jane RahRah’s trustee upon his death. Peter held Jane off to give you time to surrender RahRah voluntarily, especially with everything going on, but Jane is adamant about picking RahRah up tomorrow morning.”