Expiration Date

by Devon Delaney

  “Not at all. We just didn’t want you to get hurt in the process. I was told, though, you had indeed already picked up your foodstuffs. Do you require any more assistance, for example, locating those bags that don’t seem to be with you?”

  His expression challenged Sherry to reply.

  “No, thank you. May I ask you, was that Patti Mellit I spotted leaving your office earlier? I just love her writing.” As she spoke, Sherry thought she detected a slight grimace in Nick’s facial expression, as if he had just bitten into a raw cranberry.

  “Yes, she’s my sister-in-law.”

  “I know. I admit I was quite surprised when she mentioned it at the cook-off.”

  “She mentioned it?”

  “I was on my way back from the ladies’ room and passed her looking at a trophy case. She apparently won an award as editor of the yearbook or school newspaper. Frankly, I was in a bit of a hurry and don’t remember the full conversation.”

  “Patti may have peaked in high school if she’s still holding that memory dear.” Nick’s eyebrows crawled together, with only a bulging vein separating them.

  “Wait, that wasn’t when she mentioned it.” Was his vein going to keep growing until it burst? “I know when it was. After I returned to cooking, you and she were talking in front of my worktable. I couldn’t help but overhear her call you her favorite brother-in-law. That was very nice to hear.”

  “She’s married to my half-brother, Rafe. Patti’s writing a short article on tomorrow’s recipe demonstrations. Her article on the cook-off was incomplete, and her editor wanted something in its place. It’s good for my business to get my brand’s name out there in print. We’re new in the field of organic food products, and I’d like to think we’re on our way to being the best. Getting the good word out is my current mission. Anyway, back to your original question, yes, that was Patti. It was a surprise to me Patti showed up here, but she’s never been inside my office, so I showed her around.”

  Despite the calm in his voice, Nick’s fingers fidgeted like the legs of a lobster just before it’s thrown in boiling water, resulting in the black Sharpie he held dislodging from his grip. Sherry watched it arc toward a large potted plant. Seizing the opportunity, Sherry bent over and retrieved the pen from the soil it lodged itself in. She neglected to return it to the desk, and Nick didn’t appear to care.

  “Looks like you’re a plant lover. That’s a beauty.” Sherry gestured toward another plant next to his desk. It had distinctive leaves, dark green with beautiful ivory markings, the color of which reminded Sherry of the fresh cream she loved to put in her morning coffee.

  “My secretary is always trying to spruce up my office. Plants make her happy, and the result is a contented work environment. I just hope she doesn’t expect me to water it.”

  “Plants do make people happy. Well, I better be on my way. I’m sure I absentmindedly put the bags of food in my SUV already, so it should all be there. Will you be at the grocery store tomorrow?” Sherry forced the edges of her mouth to curl upward.

  “Yes, I’ll be there, and I’m very excited to have OrgaNicks showcased by you great home cooks. Don’t let me down. See you tomorrow, and be careful not to lose your way going home. You may be directionally challenged.”

  Sherry stood on jelly legs, shook Nick’s hand, and backed out of the office. She returned to her car to find Amber and Detective Bease involved in a conversation.

  “Detective Bease, add this to your evidence collection.” Sherry held up a tissue-wrapped bundle. “It’s a pen from Nick Andime’s desk, and it’s sure to have his fingerprints on it.”

  “Ms. Frazzelle, I appreciate the fact you seem to be on a mission to gather what you believe might be helpful evidence, but it’s bordering on interference at this point. I have no reason to suspect Nick Andime.”

  Sherry eyed Amber. Amber lowered her head. Sherry’s cheeks burned.

  Detective Bease took a step toward Sherry. “Ms. Frazzelle, your efforts don’t go unnoticed, but you’re taking undue risks snooping around the way you did today. You don’t want a trespassing charge hanging over your head, among other things.”

  The detective’s words twisted Sherry’s gut like week-old sushi.

  “Ms. Sherman told me she tried to stop you. Take your friend’s advice next time. She’s a smart cookie.”

  “Okay. Point taken.” Sherry lowered her gaze, then turned toward Amber.

  Amber mouthed, “Sorry.”

  “Amber and I have our photograph assignment. It’ll have to wait until after the demo, though, so give us until dinner tomorrow, please.”

  Detective Bease extended his hand to receive the confiscated black pen from Sherry. He seemed leery of the crumpled tissue it was wrapped in. After giving the bundle a prolonged once-over, he took it from Sherry.

  “Sorry. It got smooshed in my pocket. No guarantees, but I don’t think it’s been used, much. But you must be used to handling unsavory items. Wait. See the label stuck on the tissue? Take that, too.”

  Detective Bease relayed the items to Detective Diamond. After doing so, it didn’t go unnoticed when Bease pulled out a fraying handkerchief and wiped his hand repeatedly.

  “What do you do with those things?” asked Amber.

  “They’ll go to the crime lab,” said Bease. “But not before we make a visit to another contestant.”

  “Good luck,” said Amber.

  “No luck involved. Only skill and persistence.”

  Chapter 14

  In the morning, Sherry brought out the box of photos she had received from Detective Bease. The prints were in chronological order, with a time stamp in the lower-right corner. Sherry laid them on the kitchen table in piles of ten.

  “This is a good one of you, Sherry.” Amber held up a photo. “Your focus on your food prep is laser-like.”

  “I was chopping parsley. Didn’t want to lose a finger. Oops, no offense to Kenny with his missing finger. Hold on. Can I have another look?” Sherry took the photo out of Amber’s hand and scrutinized it. “In that shot, Nick Andime and Patti Mellit are behind me. The look on Andime’s face is the exact one he had when he told me in his office Patti was his sister-in-law yesterday. And also the same sour expression he wore when the two of them were arguing in the OrgaNicks parking lot. Judging by the look on his face, either he sucks on a lemon when he’s with her or he’s not too fond of her. Let’s put that photo aside.”

  “Why? This is about Chef Birns, not two feuding in-laws.”

  “I’m beginning to wonder.”

  They continued flipping through the pictures and placing any of interest in select piles.

  “Can you find the one of Jamie Sox holding his finished plates of food again, Amber? And the two right before it, where he’s in the final stages of his plating. Check the time stamps so they’re in the proper order. Let me run and get my reading glasses.”

  “Right here.” Amber placed the requested shots side by side on the table.

  Sherry donned her glasses. “Something in those pictures seems awfully familiar.”

  “I don’t think Jamie would be too happy with this one, which caught the moment he threw up, nearly all over his food. Yuck.”

  “Okay, let’s separate out that one, too.” Sherry pinched the corner of the photo and moved it to the growing pile. “I’m putting them on top of my special interest pile, even though they’re out of order.”

  Half an hour later, the task was wrapped up. Sherry brushed her palms together. “Okay, done and done. Cook-off photo review complete.”

  “I was just thinking, still no call about my cook-off apron,” said Amber. “Aren’t they going to send me one? I want to start my collection.”

  “I have no clue what’s going on with those aprons. I guess we could call OrgaNicks and see if they know anything. I think you should call, though. I don’t want to push my luck after yesterday’s run-in.”

  “I will, right after the demo,” said Amber. “Don’t you think we shou
ld head out now? I’m excited to see this trendy gourmet all-natural food store.”

  “It’s go time.”

  * * *

  “Hi, we’re here for the OrgaNicks recipe demonstration.” Sherry stepped up to the store’s customer-service counter. “We have all our supplies. We just need to know where to go.”

  The helpful man behind the counter responded by waving the ladies in the direction of the prepared-foods section. There they found their designated workstations. A third table was already set up with ingredients, dishes, and utensils.

  “Hi, ladies.”

  Sherry did a double take when she saw Diana Stroyer in a striped maxi-dress.

  “Diana. What a surprise! We were wondering who else was going to be here.” Sherry hoped her face didn’t betray the astonishment she was trying to conceal.

  “Well, it wasn’t actually supposed to be me, but Jamie Sox canceled, and it seems I was the next best thing,” said Diana. “OrgaNicks switched my flight plans for the third time, and here I am.”

  “Great.” Sherry dropped her bags on the table with a thud. She turned to Amber and whispered, “Ugh. Now I’m nervous. I’m such a novice in comparison to one of the all-time greats.”

  “You! What about me? I really am a novice.” Amber sighed as she set down her ingredients.

  “Let me help you two set up.” Diana stepped out from behind her small table, revealing the full volume of her flowing garb. “I wasn’t sure how long it would take me to get here from my uncle’s home, so I arrived very early. I’ve walked around all the aisles twice and know where every overpriced and underwhelming item in the store is if you need something! Is it mandatory for the shoppers here to be dressed in yoga-wear? The clientele looks like they haven’t eaten in weeks. I can’t believe such skinny people have the strength to get their down-dog on or whatever that position is called. One day they’ll appreciate the functionality of caftans and the fact that you can let it all hang out while wearing one.” Diana twirled around once.

  Sherry exploded with nervous laughter.

  “Hello, I am Philipe L’Herb, Au Natural’s head chef in residence,” announced a doughy man wearing a towering chef’s hat. “If you need anything, please ask.” He lumbered away, glancing Diana’s table with his stomach as he passed.

  “Who was that?” Sherry asked.

  “Isn’t he adorable? I could just tickle his belly for hours.” Diana wriggled her fingers in his departing direction before returning to her table.

  “I do not want to see that. I couldn’t help but notice Diana must have fixed her hearing aid. She seems to hear just fine today.”

  “I noticed, too,” Amber said. “Sherry, I’m a little worried about all the prep steps I have. What if I’m too busy to field questions from anybody?”

  “Once you start working, just pretend you’re at home in your kitchen. You’ll be fine. I promise. What can go wrong?”

  When setup was complete, the three women stood idle near their tables, waiting for further instructions. Chef L’Herb appeared again, studied the scene, and raised his eyebrows. “Home cooks are so quaint. My sainted mama was a home cook.”

  Sherry was amazed at the lengthy once-over Diana gave the chef before issuing him a challenge. “What wine pairing would go with a gamey bison sausage pizza, in case someone asks?”

  “Madam, pizza is a peasant food, but it can be made dignified when combined with an artisan beer. The spirited bison element transforms the recipe into something worthy of pairing with Merlot. Its notes of dark cherry, chocolate, vanilla, and cinnamon will round out the dining experience.” The chef wiped his hands on his apron then disappeared.

  “I’m in love,” said Diana. “Just between you and me, I knew the answer before I asked, of course, but I just wanted to hear him speak. If I had found someone that dreamy when I was younger I would have definitely considered taking the marriage plunge. But on second thought, after hearing both your stories, I’m kind of glad I didn’t.”

  Sherry scrutinized Diana’s ingredients. “Diana, didn’t you make pork chops at the cook-off?”

  “I did, but because I was given such short notice to sub for Jamie, the store wasn’t able to reprint my recipe in the flyer in time. So, I’m making Jamie’s recipe.” Diana glanced at the print copy of the recipe, “‘Chicago Style Bison Sausage and Greens Pizza on Whole Grain Crust.’”

  “Have you made it before?” asked Sherry.

  Diana didn’t respond, but the nonplussed tip of her head she gave Sherry belied the fact she had no fear conquering anything new.

  “It actually reads like a very good recipe,” Diana added. “The kid may have had a decent chance at the OrgaNicks event. Not the Grand Prize, but maybe second place.”

  Sherry didn’t even have to ask whom Diana thought the Grand Prize winner should be. Sherry glanced at the time on her cell phone. “I’m just going to run to my car.” She left her perfectly organized table and dashed out of the store’s automatic doors. Instead of opening the car door, Sherry remained next to it and pulled her cell phone from her pocket. She found the number she needed in her contact list.

  “Bease here.”

  “Hi, Detective Bease, this is Sherry Frazzelle.”

  “Ms. Frazzelle, what can I do for you?”

  “I’m at the Au Natural Market about fifteen minutes south of Hillsboro, and we’re just about to start a recipe demonstration. I wanted to mention there’d be a number of people here who were involved in the OrgaNicks Cook-Off. Things have already taken an interesting turn.”

  “Ms. Frazzelle, I’m very busy.”

  “Sherry! Five minutes! Come on!” yelled Amber across the parking lot.

  Sherry held her hand up with index finger extended. “I’ve got to go. You should try to make it here.”

  “Ms. Frazzelle, this investigation is led by a team of professionals, I remind you. I cannot just follow where the wind blows because you think I should.” Bease hung up.

  Sherry returned her phone to her pocket and ran back inside the store. It was nearing the noon hour, the time the demonstration was to begin. The three ladies took their positions behind their prep tables. In front of them, each had a portable double burner. Behind them there was one shared microwave and two ovens supplied by the store. Sherry saw two familiar faces approaching.

  The woman in the linen pantsuit wrestled with her carryall before placing it at her feet. “Sherry, so nice to see you again. I’m here to write a story on the cooking demonstration.” Patti Mellit pointed to the two men with her. “You remember Mac Stiles, the photographer from the cook-off? He’s here to snap a few shots. And this is my husband, Rafe. He’s here to hustle a few free bites.”

  “Hi again. Good to see you, Mac.” Sherry turned her attention to Rafe. “And you must be the famous Hillsboro High yearbook co-editor. Thanks for coming.”

  “Ah, the good old days,” Rafe laughed. “My career’s been on a slide ever since.”

  “The printed guide lists you, Amber Sherman, and Jamie Sox as the cooks. I only see you and Ms. Sherman.” Patti waved the flyer in her hand.

  “Jamie canceled, and Diana Stroyer stepped in at the last minute.” Sherry continued to re-organize her already organized ingredients. “Diana’s making Jamie’s recipe, though, so the recipe in the guide is correct.”

  “Excuse me one second, guys. I need a word with Ms. Frazzelle.” Patti steered Sherry a few steps away from the others with a gentle tug of her elbow.

  Sherry studied the woman holding her arm.

  “Sherry, you and I both know you’re in trouble.”

  Sherry’s eyes opened wide at the blunt proclamation.

  “Listen, I’m a journalist not a detective, but you passed my character test with the answers to the questions I e-mailed you. No one who’d just committed a heinous murder would ever be so sweet, humble, and unassuming. Forgive me, but I used an old journalism trick to get a better perspective on who you really are. I have confidence you didn’t poison
the chef. I’m willing to stake my reputation on it, so listen up.

  “Here’s what I know. I’m not surprised Jamie Sox is a no-show.” Patti lowered her voice. “He was having all sorts of problems at the OrgaNicks cook-off. My firm belief is that was he should’ve been disqualified because he let someone besides his assigned helper handle his ingredients during the final phase of his plating. I saw the whole thing as I was waiting for the contestant plates to be set out on the display table.”

  “What? No, that’s not right! If anyone was up for disqualification it was Kenny Dewitt because he’s a paid professional in the food industry.”

  “That’s also the case, but Chef Birns apparently told the other judges just before deliberation he witnessed Jamie Sox breaking a rule,” explained Patti. “The chef and I saw Nick hand Mr. Sox two bags of ingredients from the refrigerator. A big contest no-no. We approached Nick and Mr. Sox immediately to point out the indiscretion, but because Nick was involved and it’s his contest, of course, the chef was given the word to let it blow over. Nonetheless, the contestant was horrified with his error.”

  Sherry made a mental note to review a few of Mac Stiles’ photos a second time to check a few details.

  “Just when I thought things couldn’t get any more confusing,” said Sherry. “But you’re saying Jamie was never officially disqualified?”

  “No, the judges were told to turn a blind eye, something they probably had trouble doing in good conscience. The final decision was Nick’s, though. I think that’s why he wanted Jamie Sox here at the demo today, kind of a ‘sorry I messed things up for you’ consolation prize. But the whole scenario smells fishy to me.”

  The irony of Patti’s last statement wasn’t lost on Sherry. Before Sherry could respond, she noticed a crowd was beginning to gather in front of Amber and Diana. “I’d better get back to work. People seem to be heading in this direction. Word must’ve traveled that free samples are available. Thanks, Patti.”