“Just work on it, Ade. Okay, the first thing we should do is get all these boxes into the rooms they’re supposed to be in. Why don’t you take a breather, and I’ll do that.” I didn’t want pregnant Adrianna moving anything larger than a salad bowl. I made her sit down. “Give me ten minutes, and then we can move some furniture.”
I successfully pushed boxes down the hall into the bedroom but ran into problems in the galley kitchen, where the boxes were too wide to fit in at all. Ade started unpacking the kitchen boxes just outside the tiny area. Meanwhile, I shifted boxes from the living room into the hallway so we could arrange furniture in the living room before moving the boxes back.
Ade stood in a corner and directed me. “The couch should go here, in front of the window.” I heaved and pushed and prayed I wasn’t scratching the wood floors. So much for a security deposit. “And obviously the coffee table in front of it.” More pushing. “And this armchair facing the window. Then the TV stand can go here. I’ll let Owen hook up the whole sound system later.”
“See, this is better already,” I said, wiping sweat from my brow.
“I think Owen will like how we’ve set this up. I can’t wait until he gets home! I’m dying to hear about his meeting. It’s so nice that he’s finally found a regular job. Remember when he worked for that blimp company? But I really think the puppeteer was the worst. I thought I’d spend my life surrounded by freaky marionettes with wooden jaws. And at least this delivery job isn’t boring. You know how Owen isn’t a desk-job kind of person, and with the Daily Catch, he’s always on the move driving, delivering, talking with people. It’s really perfect for him.”
Another Psychopathy Checklist item: “Need for stimulation/proneness to boredom.”
Ade continued talking happily as she cut open a box of books. “Once he’s able to buy his own truck, his commission will increase, and all these big accounts will get even bigger!”
Owen already had his own truck! Another checklist item: “Pathological lying. Lack of realistic, long-term goals.” Owen was certainly lying about quite a bit these days. The debt he’d gotten himself into suggested that he was being completely unrealistic about the future. The DSM’s antisocial personality criteria included the “failure to conform to social norms.” Owen was one of the most nonconformist dressers I knew; he drove according to his own idiosyncratic traffic rules; and his odd career path, no matter how amusing, was hardly the steady work that the DSM and the checklist valued.
And what about Adrianna’s stealing? Was it as harmless as she thought? Hers was yet another name to add to the list of people Leandra might have witnessed taking Gavin’s possessions from Simmer. Leandra sounded like someone who’d have taken nasty delight in reporting even a single incident of thievery to Gavin. If she’d seen Ade making off with restaurant property, she might have threatened Owen with the knowledge.
Even worse, Leandra had worked in restaurants for quite a while and could easily have heard the gossip that Josh had passed along to me: that Owen had bought his truck and that he was lying about the quality and quantity of his seafood accounts. Leandra and Kevin, I remembered, had worked together somewhere. Digger and Lefty had both known her. She could easily have tapped into the restaurant grapevine. I was sure that Leandra would’ve enjoyed confronting Owen with what she knew and making him squirm. Because Owen was determined to provide for his new family, he would have interpreted her slightest taunts as major threats; and in a person with a psychopathic personality, the result might have been homicide. Owen, in a fit of protective rage, yanked out his stolen apron and choked the life out of Leandra!
Okay, I had my doubts. Still, I simply had to have a frank discussion with Owen about his recent behavior. Adrianna deserved better than lies, and Owen had to let her know what he had been up to. I’d worked hard at Adrianna’s, but I’d worked efficiently. Maybe it was still early enough in the day for me to get to Simmer before Owen made his delivery and to wait for him there.
In a crowded, public place with a host of witnesses.
SEVENTEEN
“ADE? I’m sorry, but I just looked at the time, and I told Josh I’d meet him over at Simmer,” I lied. “Will you be okay now? We got a lot done, I think.”
“Absolutely. I’m fine. I feel better having put some of this stuff in place. Thanks for your help.”
I hugged Adrianna and left her to store her stolen cream pitchers and salt shakers. Lord knew what else she had hidden in those boxes! I ran home to get my car. On the way to the restaurant, I called Josh to see whether Owen had arrived with Simmer’s seafood.
“Nope. He’s late with his delivery. He was supposed to be here earlier, but he just called and said he’d be here within the hour.”
I contemplated the idea of warning Josh not to be alone with Owen but decided that there was no way Josh would take me seriously. “I want to talk to him,” I said. “If he gets there before I do, do you think you can stall him for a few minutes?”
“I guess so, but why don’t you just call him yourself and tell him to wait for you?”
“Because…” I stammered. “I just don’t want to. You might not want to be alone with him.”
“Why wouldn’t I—”
“I’ll be there soon.” I hung up.
By the time I got to Newbury Street, every legal parking spot was taken. I gave up trolling side streets and parked in an expensive lot. I scurried through tourists and shoppers to reach Simmer’s patio, where I immediately saw Naomi with her boyfriend, Eliot, and a beautiful young woman who was, I assumed, Kevin’s crush, Penelope. The three were seated at one of the outdoor tables. I had forgotten my promise to Naomi to stop by for lunch.
Naomi’s face lit up when she saw me. “Chloe! I’m so glad you can be with us. We’re having a wonderful lunch, and Josh even worked around my dietary needs to create an incredible salad.” She leapt from her seat to swaddle me in her usual hug. “Obviously you know Eliot, but I’d like you meet Penelope, his assistant at the gallery.”
“Hi, Eliot. Nice to see you.” I shook his hand. Eliot had the most bulging eyes I’d ever seen. His striking combination of bug eyes and frizzed-out hair evidently struck Naomi and me in rather different ways. In her gushy, New Age fashion, she was crazy about him. Penelope, on the other hand, had no peculiar features and was very pretty by anyone’s standards. Her straight brown hair was parted in the middle and fell softly to her shoulders. “Great to meet you, Penelope.” I smiled at her.
“You, too. Your boyfriend is an excellent chef. Eliot has brought me here quite a few times, and it’s always been just great.”
Naomi slipped something into my hand. I looked down to see that she’d given me a sample-size bottle with a label that read Intimate Oil with Nutmeg and Tangerine. I shuddered and dropped the gift into my purse. “Thanks.”
Blythe appeared at the table to clear the plates. “Hi, Chloe. Josh said you were coming by. You can go right into the kitchen if you’d like.” She turned to her customers. “Can I get you some dessert and coffee?”
I quickly apologized to Naomi. “I have to go see Josh, but I’ll try to come sit down after.” I rushed off before anyone could protest. I was just about to push open the door to Simmer’s interior when Kevin opened it for me, said hello, and eagerly moved past me to Penelope’s table. For his sake, I hoped that she returned his crush.
Simmer’s dining room was almost empty. It was nearly three o’clock: the lunch rush was over. When I found Josh in the kitchen, he immediately shot me a quizzical look.
“What was your phone call all about? Why shouldn’t I be alone with Owen?” Then his mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Chloe, don’t even try to tell me that you think he has something to do with Leandra’s murder!”
“Okay, just listen! I know it sounds crazy,” I agreed. I pulled Josh into the office, dropped my purse onto a chair, and explained my two theories. Josh dismissed the first one: he thought that it was unlikely that Leandra had known anything about Owen�
�s lying binge. Then I moved on to the second theory. I began by describing the things that Adrianna had taken from hotels and restaurants, and I went on to point out Owen’s possible motive for killing Leandra: she could have threatened to report Adrianna to Gavin or, worse, to the police. “Owen or Ade,” I said, “could have swiped an apron from Simmer. And then Owen used it to strangle Leandra!”
Josh laughed uncontrollably for a few moments before he pulled me close to him and rubbed my back. “You are so funny. I love that you are innocent enough to think that this stealing business is so alarming. It’s totally normal in restaurants and any hospitality industry, really. Blythe and Snacker even said so the other night. Besides, this software that Gavin is making everyone use makes it impossible to keep track of the inventory anyway. It’s practically an invitation to people to take whatever they want.”
I pulled far enough away from Josh to look up at his face. “Listen to this. Blythe is stealing from the kitchen and selling things on eBay. I know because Adrianna made a bid and won a peacoat, and the seller turned out to be Blythe, who is also listing some of the things that you realized were missing the other day. The mandoline, the stick blender, and the Wüsthof knife. Oh, by the way, you better check your knife collection. She’s selling two.”
“Jesus Christ!” Josh said angrily. “I’ll deal with her later. But I bet Leandra was doing the same thing. Call it a gut feeling, but this has her name written all over it. Either way, no one rats on anyone else around here, because everyone is doing it. You think I’m going to tell Gavin that Snacker took a bunch of chicken to make tamales? Actually, the only person around here who isn’t stealing shit is probably Isabelle. But that’s only because she hasn’t been in the industry long enough to know we all do it. So there. You think that makes her a suspect? Because she’s the only one not stealing?” He winked at me.
“Well, Isabelle obviously idolizes Gavin and didn’t think Leandra was good enough for him, so maybe she told Gavin about Leandra, hoping that he’d feel so betrayed that he’d dump her.” I paused. “But instead of just feeling betrayed, he killed her!”
“Are you done with this nonsense? Gavin may have some quirks, but he didn’t kill Leandra.” Josh leaned out of the office. “Santos! Take the bread out of the oven, will ya?”
“Sí, Chef!” Santos called back.
Josh obviously wasn’t taking my theories seriously. “Okay, smarty,” I said, “who do you think killed Leandra?”
Josh shut the office door and leaned against it. “Here’s what I think. Like I was saying, in restaurants no one rats on anyone else because no one can afford to. Except for Wade. He’ll throw anyone under the bus if it makes him look good.”
“Right, like you guys were telling me the other night at your place.”
He nodded. “The night Leandra was killed, Wade and Kevin were closing. Supposedly, they gave each other an alibi, but that means nothing, because Wade is a lowlife. You have no idea how much crap he’s said about me and then turned around and told me how much he admires me. Horseshit like that all the time from him. And the truth is, he’s a lousy GM at that. Anyhow, Wade is the one with the faulty personality, not Owen or Gavin. If you’re looking for a suspect, I’d put my money on him. Look, Chloe, I have to get back to work. Snacker just got here, so I’m going to be really busy.”
“All right. I’m going to hang out and wait for Owen, if that’s okay with you.” I wasn’t looking forward to my conversation with him, but it needed to happen.
“Stay as long as you like. You can come watch me prep if you want.”
Josh and I left the office, and I sat on a stool a few feet from where Josh began seasoning some rib eye steaks. I loved watching him work, but I was always worried that I’d cause a kitchen calamity by hanging out in the wrong spot, so I sat frozen to my seat.
Kevin entered the kitchen and spotted Josh. “Hey, dude. Any chance I could get three desserts on the house?”
“Depends. Who are they for?” Josh flipped over the steaks and continued generously sprinkling salt, pepper, and sugar across the meat.
At that moment, Blythe entered the kitchen and said exactly what I was thinking. “They must be for Naomi, Eliot, and Penelope, right?”
So, Kevin was trying to impress Penelope with Josh’s dessert. Cute! The strategy always worked for me!
“Yes, actually, they are,” Kevin said shyly.
“Sure, no problem. Let me see what I have that’s ready to go.” Josh washed his hands and then went into the walk-in refrigerator, where prepped desserts were kept.
Snacker materialized from behind a counter. “Miss Penelope is out there, huh? Nice going, Kev!”
“Kevin’s got a girlfriend,” sang Blythe.
Josh came out of the walk-in with three ceramic ramekins that held raspberry crème brûlée. He set them down near Kevin. “Here you go. Can you just finish them off for me? Sprinkle them with sugar and throw them under the broiler for a minute or two.” Josh handed over three ramekins. “And there’s some more fresh raspberries around here somewhere, too, for garnish.”
While Kevin sprinkled sugar, Blythe leaned over to me and whispered in my ear. “You probably don’t know this, but Kevin has it bad for that Penelope girl!” She giggled. “He’s been making eyes at her for weeks now, and I don’t think she’s interested in the least. It’s pathetic, really. He keeps asking me if I’ve seen her outside, and he made all of us say that we’d go find him the minute she comes in. Maybe if he got rid of those stupid sideburns!”
I giggled and then noticed Kevin looking over at us. “Mmm,” I muttered vaguely, trying to cover up my smile. Seriously, though, Kevin did need to get rid of those things. At a guess, he’d grown the sideburns in an effort to make himself look young and trendy, but their effect was exactly the opposite.
Blythe must have seen Kevin watching us, too, because she said jokingly, “Yes, we’re talking about you, Kevin! And Chloe’s going to go tell your new girlfriend everything I’m saying!”
Kevin took the raspberry desserts to the broiler and ignored Blythe’s teasing.
The kitchen phone rang. Josh picked it up. “No. Not yet…I have no idea…Okay. Bye.” Josh turned to me. “That was Adrianna calling to see if Owen is here. Where the hell is he, anyway? We’re supposed to get our fish in the morning, not just before dinner!” Josh put his hands on his hips. “God, I barely got through lunch with what we have. Owen better get his ass here fast, or I’m gonna drop him!” Josh continued his prep work.
“Dammit!” Kevin yelled as he pulled out three burned brûlées from the broiler.
“I got you!” Josh said, retrieving more raspberry delights for the nervous bartender. “Keep an eye on those. They’ll burn in a second.”
“Thanks, man.” Kevin took a breath and started cleaning up the mess.
Owen stomped into the kitchen in his heavy work boots, a white box in his hands. “I know! I know! I’m sorry!” he hollered out to the entire room. “I’m totally behind schedule today, and I forgot your razor clams at the warehouse, so I had to go back to the waterfront, and there was an accident right at the turnoff to—”
Josh held up his hand to stop Owen. “Just give me my clams, you loser,” he said, grinning at the frazzled Owen.
Owen smiled back at him. “Let me grab the rest of your stuff from the truck.”
“Hey, Chloe.” Blythe nudged me and started whispering again. “You know how I told you that my friend Katie picked Kevin up at a bar? Well, you won’t believe what else she told me!” Blythe raised her eyebrows and bit her lip. “Kevin doesn’t know that I know that they slept together, and it’s a good thing, too, because then he’d really be afraid of me making fun of him.”
Oh, this sounded good. “What?” I asked, always eager for a little gossip.
She softly cleared her throat. Speaking so softly that I had to strain to hear her, she said, “Apparently…How do I say this? Kevin’s, you know, thing,” she said with a knowing look, “is ve
ry…um, weird.”
I choked back a laugh. “What? What do you mean?”
Blythe spoke out of the corner of her mouth, as if twisting her lips would somehow lighten what she was trying to say. “Katie said his penis is bent. Like, not just a little, but, you know…” Blythe held up one hand in the shape of the letter C and put her other hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing.
“What are you talking about?”
“Like, seriously bent. Curved. Whatever it is, it’s not, well…straight!”
“Oh, my God, Blythe, I so didn’t need to know that!”
“You think I want to know that? I had to tell someone, though!”
I turned so that my back was to Kevin. There was no way I could watch him hover over the crème brûlées right after hearing this weirdly intimate detail. “I’m definitely not repeating that! But if Kevin winds up with that Penelope girl, I guess she’ll find out for herself.”
“Yeah, but by then it’ll be too late. Who knows?” Blythe continued whispering. “Maybe Penelope the Beautiful won’t care. Anyhow, Kevin gets crazy whenever he talks about her, so that’s why we all tease him. It’s like being in junior high around here. We love each other, but we have to give each other hell.”
“No kidding. I don’t want to know what you guys say about Josh and me!”
“Oh, nothing bad,” she said at normal volume. “Don’t worry. Anyhow, I have to get back to work. Kevin, you want me to help you carry those out?” Blythe made kissy faces at Kevin as they left the kitchen to deliver the desserts to Penelope, Eliot, and Naomi.
“I haven’t seen you in ages, Chloe.” Owen walked toward me.
Everything about Owen was familiar and comforting. Instead of feeling enraged at him for his stupid lies, I felt happy to see him. There was simply nothing threatening about Owen. My DSM theory was falling apart. Owen was empathic and kind. He was a great friend. No one in Boston obeyed traffic rules; Owen’s driving was no more deviant than anyone else’s. Yes, he was unconventional but unconventional in a healthy, interesting, lovable way.
Turn Up the Heat Page 17
