Murder on the Menu

by Miranda Bliss

  As hard as I tried, I couldn’t reason my way through any of this. Facts swam through my head. Dylan was looking into Sarah’s murder? It didn’t explain why he’d threatened her, but it sure went a long way toward helping me figure out why he’d been so uncooperative. Dylan had his own agenda and his own investigation to conduct. No wonder he was less than helpful.

  And now he was dead.

  My head pounded like a high school marching band drum line.

  “It doesn’t make sense,” I groaned. “None of it makes sense.”

  “And none of it has to. At least not tonight.” Jim stepped between Eve and the bed. “You’re staying here. You’ll rest, and in the morning, your head will be clearer. Until then, don’t worry about it. Nobody else is going to bother you.”

  As if.

  No sooner were the words out of Jim’s mouth than I saw Tyler and the senator jockeying for position outside the cubicle. The senator got through the doorway first, and Tyler didn’t look happy about it.

  The senator took Eve’s hand. “Did you tell her?”

  Eve’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink. “I was going to wait until morning. You know, when Annie’s feeling better.”

  “Great. Wait until Annie’s feeling better.” Tyler moved forward. “Until then, if you’d all just excuse yourselves, I’ve got a couple more questions to ask her.”

  I sighed. “And I’m so tired, I can’t keep my eyes open.”

  “And we really should tell her now,” the senator said. “If the news gets out…”

  Tyler snorted. “If this guy’s bothering you…” he told Eve.

  “This guy…” Douglas Mercy’s eyes snapped. “Is a United States senator, detective, and I think the least you can do is control your jealousy.”

  “Jealousy? You think that’s what it is?” Tyler snickered. “I’m here to tell you, Senator, I was just trying to do you a favor. This woman is—”

  “What?” The senator stepped up, toe-to-toe with Tyler. He raised his chin, and his hands curled into fists.

  Even muzzy-headed, I knew trouble was a-comin’. Fortunately, so did Jim, and he hadn’t been bonked on the bean. He stepped between Tyler and the senator.

  “It’s been a long night,” Jim said. “I think you’ll both agree.”

  “Which is why Eve needs to get out of here.” Tyler never took his eyes off the senator. “My car is right outside the door,” he said, and we all knew he wasn’t talking to Douglas Mercy. “You go on ahead; I’ll get you home.”

  “You’ll do no such thing.” The senator’s eyes flashed lightning. He leaned around Jim, the better to aim a laser look at Tyler. “A woman returns home with the man who was her escort for the evening. I don’t know about where you come from, but in the more refined segments of society, that’s how it’s done.”

  “Refined, huh?” Tyler put a hand on Jim’s arm to push him out of the way. “Well, if that’s what you call it—”

  “Boys! Boys!” Eve stepped forward. “I think we need to settle this once and for all. Tyler…” She looked his way. “You’re just gonna have to face facts, sugar. You don’t have any claim on me. Not anymore.”

  Tyler’s mouth thinned. “And this guy—”

  “This guy is who I’m going home with tonight.” Eve wound her arm through the senator’s. “And not only that, but we have an announcement. Tyler, Jim, Annie…” She looked at all of us and grinned. “Doug and I are engaged!”

  Eighteen

  NEAR-DEATH EXPERIENCES, ENGAGEMENTS, AN ALMOST-fistfight between Senator Mercy and Tyler…It was too much excitement for one night, and I was really feeling it. By the time I was taken up to a private room on another floor, it was past two, and I was completely wiped out. I knew Jim must have been tired, too, so after the nurses had me settled, I fully expected him to say good night.

  Which is why I was surprised when he plunked down in the chair next to my bed.

  “Staying for the night,” he said.

  I attempted one shake of my head, then decided it wasn’t the best idea. “Don’t have to,” I said on the end of a yawn. “Go home. Sleep. I’ll be fine.”

  “Yes, you will be.” He sounded more certain of it than I felt. “And I’m going to make sure of it.” He snapped off the light. “I’ll be as quiet as a mouse, so I won’t be any bother, and if you need anything, I’ll be right here beside you.”

  “Won’t need…anything.” My words wandered along with my thoughts, and sleep wrapped me like a wooly blanket. “Won’t…bother you. Just…sleep.”

  I couldn’t see much in the dark, but I heard him slide forward in his chair. He kissed my cheek. “Good night, Annie,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  When I drifted off, I was smiling, but not for long. A weird dream engulfed me.

  In it, I was walking down a long church aisle in a pink matron-of-honor gown that was too tight and cut way too low for my curvy figure. Doc was barking louder than the organ music playing in the background. People in the pews were throwing flowers at me, and one of them clunked me on the head.

  It made a sound loud enough to jerk me awake.

  I stared into the dark. Had I been asleep for minutes? Or hours? I knew I wasn’t in my own bed, and for a few scary seconds, I wasn’t sure where I was or what I was doing there.

  Until I heard Jim’s gentle, even breaths from the chair in the corner.

  Glancing that way, I breathed a sigh of relief, and automatically, I found myself smiling again. In the dim square of light that seeped into the room from the window, I saw that Jim’s tartan bow tie was loose and hanging around his neck. His tuxedo shirt was unbuttoned at the throat. His head was thrown back against the high back of the chair, and there was a lock of hair hanging over his forehead. A wave of peace washed over me. I closed my eyes again.

  Until I heard a sound.

  The same sound that the dream flower made when it bonked me on the head.

  Since I wasn’t asleep and no longer dreaming—at least, I didn’t think I was—this didn’t track quite right. Even in my mixed-up brain. Carefully, I lifted my head off the pillow so I could look around. I was just in time to see a woman step into the room and close the door behind her.

  “I’m awake,” I whispered. “You don’t have to worry about disturbing me if you need to take my blood pressure or something.”

  Except for the dim glow of her white lab coat and a thatch of dark hair, I couldn’t see much of the nurse. She didn’t speak a word.

  She didn’t check my blood pressure, either.

  Or my temperature.

  Or feel for my pulse.

  Instead, I saw a glint of light against the syringe she held in one hand. She moved toward the IV line attached to a bag of fluids that hung above my bed.

  “This will teach you to mind your own business,” the nurse growled. While I was still wondering what was going on, she plucked up the IV line with one hand and put the needle of the syringe against it.

  I still wasn’t sure if I was dreaming or not, but I wasn’t going to take any chances.

  My head might be busted, but my lungs were working fine, and just to prove it, I let out a scream loud enough to wake the dead.

  Fortunately, it also woke Jim. More fortunately, he’s one of those morning types who wakes bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, and ready to take on the world.

  Or in this case, the mystery nurse.

  The second Jim’s eyes flew open; he knew something was wrong, and he wasn’t about to take any chances as to what it was. He leapt out of his chair and tackled the nurse.

  We weren’t exactly subtle, what with me screaming and the commotion Jim and the nurse made as they wrestled around the room knocking into the bed and the dresser across from it. A second later I heard footsteps racing down the hallway. The door flew open; the overhead lights went on. When they did, I saw that Jim had control of the situation.

  And of none other than Lorraine Mercy.

  “Dr. Mercy!” The floor nurse
who’d turned on the lights looked from Dougy’s wife to the syringe she still had in her hand. “What on earth are you doing here at this time of night? And what…?” Don’t ask me how the woman had the presence of mind, but before Lorraine could move, she snatched the syringe out of her hand and held it up for a better look. “Air?” The nurse looked past the syringe to me. “You weren’t—”

  “She sure was.” Jim was standing behind Lorraine with his arms wrapped good and tight around her. I was glad. When she looked my way, her eyes flashed with hatred. I gulped down a wave of nausea. “I saw her. She was going to—”

  “You little bitch!” Lorraine squirmed and kicked. She elbowed Jim in the ribs. His cheeks darkened, and he puffed out an oof of surprise, but no way was he going to let her get anywhere near me. His determination only made her more angry. “You were going to ruin everything,” she spat. “You were going to tell everyone about Dougy and Sarah. Once word got out and the media got wind of it…” She screeched her frustration. “You were going to ruin my chance of ever being First Lady!”

  I sucked in a breath of complete surprise. “Then you were the one? The drive-by shooting? And the flowers coming down on us? You were the one who tried to kill us!”

  “Damned straight.” Lorraine’s eyes flashed. “I had to keep your mouths shut. And now…” She shot a nasty look over her shoulder at Jim. “You weren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to stop me. Nobody is supposed to stop me. And now you—all of you—you’re going to ruin everything.”

  It was Jim who had the presence of mind to set her straight. When she banged her heel into his shin, he never even flinched. “Ruin everything, eh? Sorry to tell you, Mrs. Mercy, but you just did that all by yourself.”

  The truth slammed into Lorraine. Eyes burning, mouth thinned with fury, she went rigid. Then like a balloon pricked by a pin, she collapsed.

  “You were going to tell,” she screamed, tears sliding down her cheeks. “You were going to ruin everything.”

  She was still crying and screaming when hospital security showed up and hauled her away.

  MONSIEUR LAVOIE WAS IN ON THE CONSPIRACY WITH me. So were Larry, Hank, and Charlie. And Heidi, Marc, and Damien, of course. Damien was the one who’d lured Jim to Bellywasher’s with an early morning phone call about an emergency—the only thing, we’d figured, that would get him out of my apartment, where he’d been playing mother hen since my return from the hospital. (Just for the record, I was loving every minute of it.)

  As soon as he was gone, I slipped out with Marc. While Damien and Heidi kept Jim busy in the kitchen, we got to work. When we were done, I signaled from the restaurant, and they led Jim out, blindfolded, to the sounds of Larry, Hank, and Charlie thrumming their hands against the bar like a drum roll.

  “This is making me very nervous!” Jim laughed like it was no big deal, but I could tell he wasn’t kidding. Not completely. I couldn’t blame him. And I couldn’t stand the thought of keeping the surprise a moment longer.

  “OK,” I said. “It’s time,” and when I did, Monsieur Lavoie stepped forward and pulled the blindfold off Jim’s eyes.

  “So, what do you think?”

  I would have liked to twirl around like a model at a car show, but even though it was two days after the incident at the fund-raiser and Lorraine’s middle-of-the-night attack, I wasn’t taking any chances. Not with my head, or with my broken arm. Instead of twirling, I made a Vanna-like gesture (with my good arm, of course) toward the walls of Bellywasher’s.

  Jim’s mouth fell open. He looked over the pictures that jammed the walls, and at the kilts and the old broadswords, the Scottish flag that had been hung above the door, and the thistle border that had been stenciled on every single wall just that morning. “It looks just like it did when Uncle Angus owned the place. Only there’s even more junk!”

  We all applauded.

  “It’s your junk,” I said, stepping back (but not too quickly) to admire it all. “I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help.” I smiled at Monsieur and the rest of them. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Nah. You’re gorgeous. Even with that cast on your arm.” Hank gave me a gap-toothed grin. “This place…” He sighed with contentment. “Thank goodness, this place finally looks like home again.”

  “You did this? All of you?” Jim’s astonishment might be complete, but I could tell he wasn’t totally convinced. He turned a skeptical eye on me. “Do you need to go back to the hospital to have your head looked at again, woman? What were you thinking? This isn’t the place we envisioned.”

  “No. It isn’t. But the place we envisioned wasn’t a place that made you happy. You told me so yourself. Besides, it was the least I could do.”

  “All this, just for saving her life!” Charlie slapped a hand against the bar and laughed.

  “Not just for saving my life.” I smiled up at Jim. The old Annie would have been embarrassed to lay her emotions out on the table, especially in front of Charlie, Hank, and Larry and the rest of them. Not to mention Jim. But I was a new Annie. Or at least I was trying to be. Just so he’d know it, I gave Jim a hug. “For being there for me. For being there with me.”

  His grin never faded. “Then you’ll be happy to know that I’ve made some decisions about Bellywasher’s, too.” Like he was making a speech, Jim cleared his throat. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and we faced our friends. “We’re closed on Mondays, you all know that. So after Christmas, we’ll be starting something new. Every Monday night.” He reached in his pocket for a piece of paper, unfolded it, and handed it to me.

  I looked at the crest like a coat of arms at the top of the page. Instead of the usual charging lions and crowns, this crest had a chef ’s hat, a spatula, and some vegetables on it.

  “Bellywasher’s Academy.” I read the words under the crest. “A cooking school?”

  Jim’s eyes glinted. “What do you think?”

  “I think…” Quickly, I read over the information on the flyer. It was all about providing hands-on opportunities to create delicious meals using the freshest ingredients, and about sitting down after every class and enjoying the food and friendship with fellow classmates. “I think it’s brilliant!”

  “Will it fit into your business plan, do you think?”

  “Will it make you happy?”

  His smile inched up a notch.

  It was the only answer I needed. “Then we’ll make it fit with our business plan,” I told him.

  Jim’s smile softened. “I miss teaching,” he said, and he looked at Monsieur. “This will give me the chance to keep my fingers in it, so to speak, and still keep the restaurant going. It will give Marc and Damien experience at being instructors, too.”

  “And we’ll get to sample.” Charlie applauded.

  “It’s perfect.” Jim pulled me closer and kissed me. Through the ringing that started up all over again inside my head, I heard more applause. “All because of you.”

  “Not perfect. Not yet.” I’d saved the biggest surprise for last. Taking it slow and easy, I untangled myself from Jim and went around the bar to the new menu board we’d installed that morning. There was a tablecloth covering it, and I whisked it off and watched Jim’s eyes light up.

  “Today’s hot dog special!” He punched a fist into the air. “Yes! Bellywasher’s is back.”

  We were all still hooting and laughing and applauding when the front door opened. Eve and Tyler were standing outside. One look, and I knew this was a chance meeting.

  As if he’d just bitten into a sour apple, Tyler’s mouth was puckered. And Eve? She had the same little grin on her face that had taken up permanent residence ever since Doug proposed. Only it was brighter than ever. I had not one scrap of doubt that this was for Tyler’s benefit. I also didn’t doubt that he knew it. Of course, he would sooner have been boiled in oil than admit that it was driving him crazy.

  His shoulders rigid, Tyler stepped back to let Eve walk into the restaurant first. She knew what
I’d been planning to do that morning, of course, and she breezed inside, glanced around, and nodded her approval. Tyler stepped inside after her, closed the door, and stopped right there.

  “Looks like I’m interrupting a party,” he said.

  “There’s so much to celebrate these days,” Eve cooed.

  “And it’s just the first of many celebrations around here.” Jim smiled in my direction. “What can we do for you, Lieutenant?”

  “You could get me a cup of coffee.” Nobody had chutzpah like Tyler had chutzpah. He looked right at Eve when he said it. She ignored him, but Heidi didn’t. While she went into the kitchen, Tyler chafed his hands together. “Just thought I’d stop in,” he said, “to wrap things up.”

  After the disaster at the fund-raiser, Eve was convinced she needed a deep pore cleansing and her hair an intense oil treatment. Her skin glowed, and her hair was sleeker and glossier than ever. She tossed her head. “Or maybe, Tyler honey, you were just hoping for the chance to see me again. You know, before I’m officially Mrs. Senator Douglas Mercy.”

  Tyler did not grace this comment with a reply. He pulled out his notebook, and when Heidi arrived with the coffee and set it on the table nearest to where Tyler stood, he sat down and got to work.

  “Dr. Mercy has been hospitalized and is being kept under close observation,” he said.

  “And isn’t that a shame.” Eve slipped out of her coat. She was wearing her brown suede skirt along with an ivory silk blouse and the diamond ring—it was as big as my apartment, I swear—that she and Doug had purchased only the day before. She stepped far enough away from the table so Tyler couldn’t fail to get a good look at her. “The good news, of course, is that the whole crazy daughter-in-law thing doesn’t seem to be hurting Doug’s political standing. He’s always had a concern for the mentally ill.”