Shoes and Baby: Women Sleuth

by S. Y. Robins

  “Well, why would she lie about that?” Tate asked shoving another licorice piece into his mouth. He seemed to be enjoying this in some sort of sick and sadistic way.

  “I am not a killer and I have never threatened to kill anybody. I had no reason to hurt that man.”

  “Well, he bothered you and touched you inappropriately. That could drive some to murder.”

  “You would have to be a complete psycho for something like that do drive you to murder.”

  Tate smiled.

  He didn’t say anything for a few minutes. He just continued to scribble in his notebook and to look over papers in his file. Hannah found the silence unnerving and she wanted to speak and ask him what in the world he was doing and how he could act so relaxed when her entire world was turning upside down. Of course his world was just fine she was sure. He was about to book his suspect and probably had something airtight enough that it would stick, but she had no idea how this could be. She had done nothing wrong.

  Just then there was a knock at the door. A secretary came into the room looking meek and apologetic. Tate looked up from his scribbling looking mildly annoyed, which was the first bit of real emotion Hannah had seen him display since she had been arrested that night. It was kind of fun to see him be anything but totally happy for a few minutes.

  The secretary handed him an envelope and quickly disappeared.

  Tate opened up the envelope and examined the contents. They appeared to be photographs. As he perused the contents of the pictures his brow furrowed slightly and he almost seemed amused after a few minutes. He was almost giddy and chuckling by the end of it. He sat the pictures down and looked at Hannah quizzically and with a look of almost total relief.

  Hannah was now deeply confused as he left the room.

  Hannah watched through the screening room into the interrogation room at Tate’s interrogation of Andrea. She looked overly confident and almost happy to be there putting the finishing touches on this master plan of hers to lock Hannah away for murder. Hannah had to try with all her might to not grit her teeth together when Andrea spoke in that phony way of hers. It was a way that many might find appealing and attractive but when that person had just had you arrested for murder because they straight up lied on you, it was a little less than attractive. It was downright revolting.

  “So I’m going to give you one last chance,” Tate said.

  Andrea seemed confused.

  “One last chance for what?”

  “To come clean and tell the truth,” Tate replied in that super calm and unnerving way of his. Hannah thought watching it from this side of things was funny.

  “The truth? About what? What are you talking about?”

  “We saw the pictures.”

  “What pictures?”

  “These pictures.” Tate laid the photos that had just been brought to his attention on the table in front of Andrea. Her face went white and she pulled back a gasp. It was as if the oxygen had been sucked out of the room and she finally realized that she might be in a lot of trouble now.

  “Are you getting the picture?” Tate asked.

  “I can explain...” Andrea began.

  “Great. I love explanations. It makes my job easier, but I’m going to save you the trouble and do it for you. Your boyfriend there was messing around on his wife with you. When Jared got wind of this he threatened to tell Matt’s wife. You see Jared and Matt’s wife, Nancy, went back a bit. They used to be pretty serious until they broke up and Matt swooped in and married the gal. Well now Matt couldn’t have that going on so he confronted Jared about it and things got a bit physical. He hit Jared harder than he meant to. He freaked out and left him in the alley to die.”

  Andrea was speechless. Hannah had to smile. This was the first time she had ever seen Andrea speechless.

  “I didn’t know about any of this,” Andrea said.

  “Well, I might have believed that, and as of right now I can’t prove that but I will soon. But what I can prove is that you tried to frame an innocent woman for the crime of murder, you made up a stupid story and that fiend Matt corroborated it. You did this because she caught the two of you making out in the back of the restaurant. You couldn’t have anyone else knowing about you two so you figured this was a way to kill two birds with one stone.”

  Andrea lowered her head and began to sob.

  “Right Jared?” Tate said.

  Andrea’s head flew off of the table as Jared came walking through the door. He was bruised up and had several lacerations on his face held together by stitches, but other than being a bit worse for wear he was still very much alive.

  “Hi there Andrea,” Jared said. His voice was cold and angry.

  “But how...?“ Andrea began.

  “Well, Matt left me for dead. But turns out I wasn’t hurt quite badly enough. Sorry to disappoint you.”

  “Hey, I had nothing to do with that.”

  “But trying to send an innocent woman to jail for my murder is bad enough. Matt will get what's coming to him soon enough as well. Don’t worry about that.”

  “But why did you go through with this charade about a murder? I’m confused...” Andrea said.

  “Well, in my years of catching scum bag murderers I find that it’s always easier if you confuse them. I created the illusion of the murder to see how people close to the crime would react because I knew that this would without a doubt lead me to the murderer eventually. Which would lead me to whoever beat up Jared here. He has been in the hospital since the night of the crime. He just got out last night. He almost died.” Tate said. He leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head, obviously satisfied at a job well done.

  Andrea breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t be so relieved yet,” Tate said.

  Andrea’s head shot up inquisitively.

  “Your boy Matt has been spilling some beans on you. He claims that he came and asked you about what should be done with Jared and it was your idea to kill him. He claims you knew Jared wasn’t dead yet and that you tried to deliver the death blow by hitting him in the head with a club. But as luck would have it you didn’t swing hard enough and hit Jared square in the top of the head, which happens to be the hardest part of the body.”

  “I never! No! He is lying.”

  “Jared was still somewhat conscious when this happened. He can recall it all.” Tate smiled widely.

  “So what does this mean?” Andrea asked hesitantly.

  “It means you are being charged with attempted murder and so is your boyfriend Matt.”

  Andrea lowered her head and began to cry again.

  Hannah smiled and looked over at Chris who was on the other side of the control room. He smiled at her warmly.

  “Chris, just wanted to thank you for being such a good photographer,” Hannah said.

  Chris smiled.

  “I’m available for you anytime. And with my trusty camera.”

  Hannah smiled as she felt the weight of the world ease up off her shoulders.

  Tomorrow she would get on with her life.

  Killer Tiramisu

  Cozy Mystery

  About the Book

  Hannah is a 22 year old apprentice chef who dreams of greatness; unfortunately, her dreams don't quite meet up with reality, and she spends just as much time in the kitchen accidentally starting fires, mixing up ingredients and ruining functions as she does cooking. However, she gets her chance at a big break when the regular dessert chef calls in sick and Hannah is asked to make the dessert for a huge wedding reception that the restaurant is catering. Hannah decides to make her famous Tiramisu recipe - a family recipe that has been passed down for generations, and taught to her by her grandmother. Hannah is sure nothing can go wrong with a recipe she knows so well.

  However, disaster strikes when the restaurant manager dies after sampling a trial version of the dessert. Has Hannah's carelessness struck again? Or, are one of her co-workers out to get her? After Hannah is fired a
nd disgraced she sets out to clear her name - and to restore her Tiramisu's reputation.

  1

  "Hannah!" I heard a voice screaming at me.

  I spun around, almost dropping the large bowl full of salad I was unsuccessfully trying to dress. It was slipping around in my arms, threatening to topple over as I craned my neck to see who it was, specifically; who was yelling at me this time. At Lucetta's Italian Restaurant, it could be anyone.

  Lucy, the restaurant manager, came storming towards me with a red face. She slammed down a plate of calamari. "Table 8 just sent this back."

  I glanced down at the dish. "Did they? What did they say was wrong with it?"

  "Did you put this dish together?" She demanded to know.

  As the restaurant's first year apprentice chef, I was responsible for preparing entrees on busy nights like this one, when the more senior chefs concentrated solely on mains and desserts. "Yes?" I answered meekly. Oh no, I thought, what was wrong with it? Knowing me, anything could be. Had I forgotten to defrost the squid? Under-dressed the side salad?

  "What is supposed to be on top of it?" Lucy asked.

  I snuck a look at the deep fried calamari rings. "A nice little squirt of aioli -"

  "And what did you squirt on top?"

  "Aioli?" I asked, hopefully.

  "Nope, white chocolate," she said crossing her arms.

  "That actually sounds kinda delicious to be honest..."

  The head waitress, Emma, walked in and pulled a face at me. "Hannah! Table 8 certainly didn't think so. I had to deal with them going off at me. So thanks a lot for that."

  "I'm sorry Emma - I didn't mean to get you into trouble."

  She shrugged like it was no big deal, but Lucy the manager was still furious. She turned around and spoke to the head Chef Mick, who was watching the scene with a look of 'here we go again.'

  "You'll have to remake all the entrees on that table, and we'll have to give them a discount."

  Mick scowled and turned back to the deep fryer, chucking a handful of calamari in. "This is the last thing I need tonight!" He bellowed. The other chefs, including our new kitchen hand, Ben, cowered, trying to stay out of his way.

  "I'm sorry-" I started to say, but Mick just shot me a look telling me I needed to shut up. Ben gave me a sympathetic look and a smile, but everyone was too scared to actually jump in and defend me. It was Saturday night, and we were booked out at full capacity, and I'd just set everything back by ten minutes.

  "Hannah," Lucy said, "You're on your last warning."

  The night, and my shift, eventually ended and Ben waited as I packed up my section, being careful to put everything away precisely, with labelling. If I'd labeled the white chocolate properly maybe I'd have avoided another disastrous night. Not that anything ever seemed to save me from having a disastrous night. I always seemed to find some new and exciting way to screw up something in the kitchen. I'd been an apprentice for six months, and ever since I'd started it had been one thing after another: if I wasn't dropping entire dishes of pasta or burning pizzas in the oven, I was mixing up ingredients and almost killing customers.

  "You don't have to wait," I said to Ben, gratefully.

  He gave me a grin. "Nah, it's okay. I've got nothing better to do." He winked. Ben wasn't much older than me, 23 or so, and he was only working in the kitchen while he finished up his studies. He was much more chilled and relaxed in the kitchen than I was. Not so stressed. To him it was just a part-time job, nothing to get hung up about. To me though, it was the career I'd been dreaming of since I was a little girl and my grandmother had first taught me how to cook.

  We finished packing up and walked out onto the street. It was close to midnight, but it was summer and there was still a heavy warmth in the air. "So where to now?" Ben asked.

  "Gosh, I could do with a drink after the night I just had."

  He laughed. "Is it always like that?"

  "On Saturday nights, yeah. Especially when Mick gets in one of his moods."

  "Especially when you ruin the food," he teased.

  I pouted, pretending I was more offended than I really was. Though he wasn't wrong."

  "Ben I just -" I sighed.

  "I just wish I could get given a chance in that kitchen. I KNOW I'm not as big of a screw up as everyone seems to think I am. Lucy said I'm on my last chance though. I need a shot to prove that I deserve to be there. I know I can be an amazing chef. It's all I've ever wanted to do with my life."

  Ben laughed again. "I'm sure it will all turn out okay Hannah. Come on, let's go get that drink."

  Emma swanned into the kitchen, full of gossip from out the front. "So, have you guys heard the news?" She asked, looking around at the kitchen staff.

  "Heard what?" Ben asked, chopping spinach, barely bothering to look up.

  "You know that wedding function we've got on this weekend?"

  I nodded, coming closer to her. The up-coming weekend we were catering for - not to mention hosting – was a huge society wedding. We were all a little on edge, knowing that there was a lot riding on it. The reputation of the restaurant, our wallets... we'd all been instructed by Lucy several times already that we all needed to be extra careful, extra vigilant, and extra on-game. She'd directed a lot of these comments at me.

  "What about the wedding?" I asked anxiously.

  Emma grinned. "Apparently it might be called off. There's some customers out the front talking about it. Of course, they don't know I've been eavesdropping."

  "Emma that's terrible news!" I gasped. "Why would you want that to happen?"

  She shrugged. "I dunno, we might get the weekend off or something." She tossed her hair over her shoulder. "Plus, I hate weddings." She sighed. "It'll probably go ahead though. Unfortunately."

  Mick came over and interrupted our conversation, telling Emma to go back out the front, and growling at me to concentrate on what I was doing.

  The manager of Lucetta, Lucy, came over to me with a wary look on her face. She seemed to size me up before she spoke.

  "Hannah... you wouldn't..." She hesitated again. "No, never mind," she said, shaking her head and turning around, leaving to go back out the front.

  "Wait, what did you want to ask me?" I asked, anxious to know. "I'm not in trouble again, am I?" It suddenly hit me. "Oh, I know what you want to ask me. You want to ask me not to work this weekend during the Willbond Wedding function. You think I'll do something to screw it up. Okay, I understand if you want me to stay home." I said, sadly.

  She turned back around slowly, placing one hand on her hip. "It's not that Hannah. Quite the opposite."

  "The opposite?"

  She still seemed to hesitate as she started to explain. "It's just the dessert chef, Sandra, can't work this weekend... a family emergency or something."

  My eyes shot wide open. I controlled the urge to bounce up and down as Lucy, reluctantly asked me, "How would you feel about making your famous Tiramisu recipe for the dessert?"

  "Are you serious, Lucy?"

  She shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, why not? I don't see that we have a lot of other options at this point."

  I squealed, as she held a hand up. "Okay, okay, don't go getting too excited just yet. You'll need to do a trial for me this afternoon, so that I can taste it - make sure it's up to scratch for the wedding guests."

  "Not a problem!" I said, running over to my station to start prepping. "Now, I'm going to need a load of mascarpone cream..." I murmured, standing on tiptoes to look inside the shelves of the fridge. I turned back to look at Lucy. "Don't worry! I won't let you down!"

  She gave me the same reluctant shrug that she had earlier. "Just be careful Hannah - pay attention to what you're doing!"

  I gave her my 'scout's honor' sign and told her she didn't have a thing to worry about. As soon as she left the kitchen to go back to tend to the front of house, everyone else in the kitchen turned to stare at me in disbelief. Emma, the head waitress, came in to see what all the fuss was about.


  "Lucy asked you to make the dessert - for the Willbond wedding?" Emma asked. "I can't believe it."

  I grinned. "This is the dish the bride and groom are going to eat. It's such an honor that Lucy asked me to make it!"

  Emma shook her head slowly. "Like I said, I can't believe it."

  "Come on Emma, it's not that unbelievable - my Tiramisu recipe is a total crowd pleaser. Seriously - everyone who's ever tried it says it's the best dessert they've ever had."

  "Yeah, well, just don't burn the kitchen down while you're making it." She muttered, picking up her drinks tray and returning to the front.

  "I won't!" I called after her confidently. "Because I don't need to use the oven!"

  Ben laughed. "You do need to use the stove though, Han," he pointed out, cheekily.

  "Oi! It's only usually the oven I have trouble with." I stuck my tongue out at him.

  "Hey, you two," Mick cut in, sternly. "Cut out the flirting - there's work to do. Ben, you've got all the lunch salad prep to do, and Hannah -" he shook his head. "You've got to work on this dessert. Though Lord only knows why Lucy is trusting you with that."

  We returned quietly to work, trying to stay out of Mick's way for the remainder of the shift. There was no point in trying to get on his good side when he got into one of his moods. During the shift, Ben and I kept sneaking looks at each other, throwing one another a grin or a wink every time Mick made a grumpy comment, or one of us got in trouble.

  2

  Lucy sat expectantly at an empty dining table during the lull in between the lunch and the dinner service. I gulped, took a deep breath and sat a small round glass dish filled with my Tiramisu in front of her. I took a step back and watched like a hawk as she took a careful mouthful.

  "It's alright," I said, laughing nervously. "It's not going to poison you."

  She shot me a look. "I'm not concerned about that. I'm more concerned that you mixed the cream with salt instead of sugar again."