“Do you think I like working late nights here, alone, while the love of my life is off playing Dick Tracy?” Marlene asks.
Caleb watches as her face tightens with what looks like real pain.
“He broke both of our hearts, Patsy. I probably hate the piece of shit even more than you do. You guys only dated. Us? We tied the knot. And he still couldn’t be faithful. He’s a real bastard.”
Patsy seems to pause at Marlene’s words. So does Caleb. And they feel like a sharp knife to his gut. Is his ex-wife just acting? Or does she really mean some of that?
“I can show you where he keeps his jalapeños,” Marlene says, her eyes lighting up with evil mischief. “Let me get them for you. A little poison—”
“Don’t move!” Patsy snaps. “I’ll get them. Where are they?”
“There,” Marlene says. “That metal jar on the counter.”
Keeping her knife aimed at Marlene, Patsy slowly approaches the counter and reaches out for the metal container. But as soon as she touches it—
“Ouch!” she shouts—since it’s actually holding the formerly scalding-hot oil from the deep fryer. Her hand recoils from the burn and Caleb sees her grip on her knife loosen—
And he takes his chance, lunging at Patsy from behind.
She’s caught completely by surprise but instantly wriggles to escape, stronger than Caleb would have thought.
They struggle and grapple in the tiny kitchen, knocking over pots and cooking trays, until finally Caleb manages to knock the knife from her hand and pin her arms behind her back.
“Get off of me!” she shouts, but Caleb ignores her and slaps on some handcuffs.
“It was you, Patsy?” he demands. “All this time? I did love you, it’s true…but what the hell is wrong with you?”
Patsy doesn’t answer. Instead, her lip begins to tremble and tears start to stream down her cheeks.
Caleb already has his phone out and is dialing for backup. He scoops up Patsy’s knife, then embraces Marlene. Her tough-gal facade from moments ago has completely vanished. Now she’s shaking in his arms, flooded with a rush of emotion.
“Good thinking with that grease can,” he says, stroking her hair.
“Good thinking sneaking into the truck. If you hadn’t shown up…”
Caleb shushes Marlene and continues to hold her tight.
In the distance, they hear police sirens.
“I didn’t actually want to kill you, you know,” Marlene says. Then, to Caleb’s delight, her signature sarcasm starts creeping back. “I mean, I thought about it before, don’t get me wrong. But then I’d have to hire someone to cover your shifts, and it’s so hard to find good help sometimes.”
Caleb smirks. Now that Marlene is herself again, he turns his attention back to Patsy.
“Why’d you do it, Patz? Kill all those people? Poison in your own restauraunt?”
“What?” she says. She looks at him with shock that seems genuine. “I didn’t!”
What? He knows her so well—but not what she’s capable of.
Suddenly, Caleb remembers. The chase that brought him here. “Where did you get that hat, Patsy?”
“The…oh, this hat. From Tariq.”
“Tariq Bishar?” Caleb asks, surprised.
“I’d seen your car near Andrea Feldman’s house. So I went there…but ran into him. He said I was in the wrong place.”
She paused.
“He…knew I was angry with you. He’s at the restaurant a lot.
“He gave me the hat and said that I should disguise myself and get close. I’m so sorry, Marlene…I guess I just got so angry once I was here and saw you…I was really mad at Caleb.”
But Caleb is already out the door.
Chapter 30
Caleb thought he’d been sprinting before, but now he charges down the street as if his life depends on it. Lungs burning and muscles screaming, he curses himself for having left his post at Andrea’s house.
It seems like hours when he rounds the back of the mansion, slowing to catch his breath and silently creep toward the door. There’s no movement at the windows. Fleetingly Caleb thinks about calling for backup, but there’s no time to lose.
Finding the French doors to the patio unlocked, he eases one open and steps inside. It’s silent. He tiptoes to the central hall, with the ballerina paintings on the walls, making for the stairs. But rounding to the staircase, he hears a muffled sob.
There, in the sitting room he’s now facing, is Andrea. With a gun to her head.
“Oh, hello, Caleb,” says Tariq, with his customary shit-eating grin. He stands protectively behind Andrea, who sits in a chair, trembling. One hand covers her mouth and the other holds the gun. “I had a feeling you’d turn up here. But it’s too late for you to do anything now.”
“Put the gun down, Tariq. Step away from Andrea.”
“So you care about Andrea now, do you?” Tariq says, a dangerous glint in his eye. “Where were you when she was being criminally neglected and abused by her joke of a husband? Or led along by that crook, Brent? Or that swindler, Jonah? All unfaithful. All a disgrace to this city.”
“Did you kill them, Tariq? And then try to frame Albatross-Gomez? But it was you who added the poison to their dishes. You killed them, didn’t you?” Caleb tries to maintain eye contact, hoping to push Tariq into doing something sloppy. “You did, Killer Chef. Or so the headlines will say. ‘Killer Chef Tastes His Own Recipe? Case Closed.”
Tariq raises the gun and points it directly at Caleb’s face.
“Don’t, Tariq!” Andrea shouts.
He looks down at her, gun still leveled at Caleb. “He’s no good for you.”
“He’s nothing to me. I want to be with you—but we need to get out of here fast. The police will be here any moment.”
“You saved my life. But we need to go.”
Andrea grabs Tariq’s hand, pulling him down for a kiss. Caught off-guard, he leans in but then pulls back, remembering the gun, the final act.
But it’s too late. Caleb lunges across the room, knocking Tariq down and the gun out of his hand.
As he pushes Tariq roughly down on the ground, he realizes in a panic that his handcuffs are still on Patsy.
But then, in a moment of sudden calm, he registers the sweet sound of sirens coming closer and closer.
Chapter 31
For the second time in an hour, Caleb holds a woman in shock. But this time he needs the comforting as much as she does.
“I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. Tariq has access to every kitchen in the city. And he knows every bit of gossip when it comes to the rich and famous: every debt, every feud, every affair. But I don’t understand. Why did he fixate on you?”
Andrea is holding him tightly. “I saw him at parties…and he’d read my books. I used to get fan letters from a stalker, always signed ‘the Loving Tarantula,’ but I never made the connection. He and Marty once had a public battle over some luxury apartments Marty refused to knock out public housing for. I never thought it would come to this….”
Marlene rushes into the room, now filled with police waiting to take statements. Never a favorite with the New Orleans Police Department, Tariq has been handcuffed and unceremoniously thrown into a squad car.
“Caleb! My God! You scared me half to death, left me with that crazy woman, and now I find out you’re chasing down a madman all by yourself….”
Caleb smiles broadly at his two favorite women. “What do you say when all this is over, I whip us up a couple killer sandwiches and we go listen to a little jazz?”
Marlene smiles and nods at Andrea. “I think that sounds like the perfect end to a crazy night.”
About the Authors
James Patterson has written more bestsellers and created more enduring fictional characters than any other novelist writing today. He lives in Florida with his family.
Jeffrey J. Keyes is a writer, photographer, and producer who lives in New York City. His writing has b
een featured in several publications and he holds an MFA from Columbia University’s School of the Arts.
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Copyright © 2016 by James Patterson
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Killer Chef Page 8
