Getting Skinny (A Chef Landry Mystery)

by Domovitch, Monique

  Ah, a glimmer of hope. “Thanks, Toni.” Steven Lawford would know what to do.

  “And no matter what, don’t say a word,” she added. “Tell them you refuse to make a statement without your lawyer present.”

  “It’s too late, Toni. I already told them everything.” And just like that, my little bit of hope was shattered. I would spend the rest of my life in a six-by-six-foot cage.

  I got out of the bloody clothes and changed into a clean pair of pants and a shirt. A few minutes later, Crawford bagged my garments while I brought Jackie Chan upstairs and locked her in her kennel.

  “I’ll be back, little girl.”

  Jackie looked at me with her head tilted, a puzzled look in her eyes. Her whimpers broke my heart as I went downstairs.

  I followed Crawford outside, knowing that while I was at the station my house would be searched with a fine-tooth comb. A wave of nausea hit me again. Rob had been murdered. And my home was the crime scene. I would never again feel safe in my beloved house.

  Just then, a black Mercedes pulled up in front of my neighbor’s house, and a handsome man in an expensive suit climbed out.

  “Nicky Landry?” he called out to me as he hurried over.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m Steven Lawford, your attorney.” He turned to Crawford. “Has my client been charged with any crime?”

  Crawford’s face turned crimson. “I’m taking her to the station for a taped statement.”

  “In that case, she’s under no obligation to make any statement, taped or otherwise. That’s not to say my client refuses to cooperate, but she has the right to confer with me before speaking with the police.” With a curt nod to the cops, he turned to me. “Let’s go.” As we walked away, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll let you know when my client will be available.”

  Steven opened the door on the passenger side, and I slid onto the buttery leather seat. Was it my imagination or did my new neighbor’s living room curtain flutter? Was that creep watching again?

  I was too tired to care. Exhaustion filled me and all I wanted was to close my eyes and sleep. But as worn out as I was, my mind was spinning. In my worst nightmare, I could never have imagined the events of the past twelve hours.

  A wave of misery engulfed me.

  I remembered being happy—was it only yesterday? It seemed like a lifetime ago.

  a tub of ice cream is my best friend

  We crawled from one red light to the next in the rush-hour traffic, a pace as drowsing as a sleeping pill. My head was pounding—my just reward for drinking too much. I wanted to sink into oblivion. Exhaustion and panic were fighting over me, and panic was winning as nightmarish thoughts did the whirlies in my throbbing head. I flashed on an image of myself in handcuffs, quickly replaced by a picture of Rob’s bloody body, followed by a judge pounding his gavel. Guilty! Guilty! Guilty!

  I didn’t hear a word Steven was saying. His voice was no more than a drone. Rob was dead, and my life was over. I’d watched enough cop shows to know that innocent people got convicted all the time. Even if I was found not guilty, how much would my defense cost? I had exactly—I quickly added up the sums—a little under seven thousand dollars. That was my safety net, my rainy-day fund, and judging by Steven’s suit and the car he drove, my nest egg wouldn’t cover more than a few days of his time. One week tops.

  “You’re in good hands, Nicky.” Hearing my name jolted me back to the present. “Nothing to worry about,” he assured me.

  Yeah, right. What was I going to do? I had some assets I could sell. There was my house. Oh my God, I’ll have to sell my house.

  Get a grip, I told myself. There were more important things in my life than my house; like those I loved. Oh my God, who’ll take care of Jackie if I go to jail? Oh my God! Jail!

  I turned to Steven, who was talking as he wove in and out of traffic. He was saying something about needing a cup of coffee. It was suddenly extremely important to me that he believe in my innocence.

  “Just so you know,” I blurted out imploringly, “I didn’t kill him.”

  He glanced at me with a reassuring smile. “Toni told me you wouldn’t hurt a fly. That’s enough for me.”

  By the time we pulled up in front of his office building, it was eight-thirty and Toni was already waiting outside the revolving doors. How in the world had she managed that? Driving down Yonge at this time of day was hell. It should have taken twice as long as from my place to here.

  Steven turned to me. “Why don’t I drop you off here? Toni will show you upstairs.” He rolled down his window and called out to her, “Bring Nicky up to my office. I’ll join you in a minute.”

  She nodded and looked at me with worried eyes.

  “I’m okay,” I assured her. “How’d you get here so fast?”

  “I took the subway,” she explained, leading me into the lobby.

  “You?” I stopped in my tracks. “Took the subway?” The information almost gave me a chuckle. The picture of Toni all dolled up, blond hair coiffed and sprayed, wearing her—what was that? An Armani suit? And four-inch heels—being tossed about in an ocean of commuters was a sight I would have paid to see. “No way.” I tried to smile. “I’m sorry, I—I…”

  “Ah, honey.” Toni wrapped an arm around me and led me to the bank of elevators. “You have nothing to worry about. As soon as the cops know I was with you all night, you’ll be off the hook.” She rubbed my back and I found that small gesture disproportionately comforting.

  The receptionist led us into one of the firm’s conference rooms. The space was hardly bigger than Toni’s walk-in closet, yet it contained a credenza, a table and four overstuffed chairs without appearing crammed. A few minutes later Steven breezed in with a cardboard tray of Starbucks coffees and a bag full of pastries.

  “Thank you,” Toni and I said at the same time.

  “I’ll do that, Steven.” Toni pushed back her chair and went about playing hostess with great flourish. She smiled coyly at Steven as she stirred the milk in his cup, then flipped her hair.

  If I hadn’t known better, I could have sworn she was flirting. I had never seen the two of them together, but after hearing Toni complain about the man for as long as I’d known her, just about the last thing I would have expected was to see her play the seductress. At last she grabbed a plate from the sideboard, opened the bag of pastries and pulled out half a dozen assorted muffins. I was famished. I hadn’t had anything to eat since…since that pan of tiramisu at the restaurant. I’d actually forgotten about food since then, but now my stomach was rumbling, and I gratefully accepted a cranberry-lemon muffin.

  Steven took a sip of coffee and set down his cup. “Much as I don’t mind you staying, Toni, this meeting should be confidential, between Nicky and me.”

  “I don’t mind if she stays,” I said quickly. “Actually, I’d feel better if she did.”

  “Nicky, whatever you tell me is under lawyer-client privilege. Toni, on the other hand, is not legally bound to keep anything confidential. If you’re brought to trial, the prosecution could compel her to testify. Not only that, but having her here could nullify the lawyer-client privilege.”

  “But I didn’t kill him,” I insisted. “So I have nothing to hide.”

  Toni put a restraining hand on my arm. “Sweetheart, Steven is right. There are always things, even innocent little things, which a good prosecutor can twist into evidence against you. You know what they say, better safe than sorry.” She patted my arm, picked up her coffee and muffin and left the room, but not before giving her hair another toss and Steven another flirtatious smile.

  What was that all about? I turned to Steven, who was staring at the now-closed door, mesmerized.

  “She’s still full of clichés, isn’t she? She can rattle them off one after another all day long.” He shook his head and smiled. “She sure knew how to make me laugh.”

  Steven seemed almost nostalgic. What the heck was going on here? What about all those four-letter words
I’d heard her call him?

  He was a surprisingly distinguished-looking man. Not that Toni had ever said otherwise, but after listening to her complaints, I’d created a picture in my mind of a cross between the Hulk and Hannibal Lecter. Instead, the man was handsome. His blue eyes crinkled when he smiled. His lips were generous and his teeth perfect—his parents must have spent a fortune at the orthodontist. What a gorgeous couple he and Toni must have made.

  I knew I shouldn’t like him. There were many unspoken rules among girlfriends and one of the first ones went something like, “Any ex of my girlfriend’s is an enemy of mine.” Still, the man was here to defend me at Toni’s own request, so maybe she wouldn’t mind my liking him, just a little bit…only out of gratitude.

  Steven became serious, all business. “Toni told me she was with you most of the night. I’ll let the police know this. I doubt that you have anything to worry about, but I want to go over everything with you.”

  He asked a million questions and led me through a detailed account of my whole life, starting from when I’d first met Rob to early this morning when I found him in my backyard. As I told him about my relationship, which until yesterday I’d been convinced was wonderful, I realized just how naive I must have sounded.

  “And according to you, Rob was about to propose. What gave you that idea?”

  “I overheard him on the phone a few days ago. He was telling someone about getting a ring, and of course I thought…I…I assumed…” That’s when another possibility occurred to me. “Maybe the ring wasn’t for me. Maybe it was for her,” I said bitterly.

  Steven ignored my comment. “Can you remember his exact words?”

  A week ago I’d been halfway up the stairs when I overheard Rob on the phone talking about getting a ring. My heart had just about stopped. I was dying to hear more but I tiptoed away. Afterwards, I’d kept expecting Rob to drop down on one knee. Then it occurred to me that he was planning to propose at the party.

  I felt too stupid to explain, so I said vaguely, “Um, something about a ring. But I can’t remember his exact words. Why? Is it important?”

  Steven frowned and leaned back. “The word ring can have many meanings. It can mean a circle, a phone call, a sound.” He cast me a sharp look. “It’s sometimes used to describe a cartel or even the Mafia.”

  I gasped. “You can’t imagine…”

  “It’s my job to shoot as many holes as I can through police assumptions. If there’s even the slightest possibility that Rob was involved in something illegal, that conversation you overheard could shoot a hole the size of a cannonball through their theory about you.”

  My mind spun. Rob? Mafia? It simply couldn’t be.

  “Let’s backtrack. Tell me exactly what you overheard in the washroom.”

  I told the story almost word for word. It was a conversation I would never forget.

  “I’ll need the names of both those women.”

  I gave him Janice’s name. “You can reach her at St. Timothy’s, the same hospital where Rob works…I mean, worked.” My heart lurched again at the mention of his name. “As for the other woman, I have no idea what her name is, but apparently she works there, too.”

  He looked thoughtful. “Did anything happen lately that sticks out in your mind? Anything that, although it seemed unimportant at the time, gave you pause.”

  I shook my head.

  “I want you to think carefully. Even if it seems completely unconnected to Rob’s murder, I want to hear about it.”

  “I told you everything about my relationship,” I insisted. “Even things I never told Toni.”

  He smiled, and the sexy crinkles appeared again. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’ve heard much worse. I’m only here to help.”

  “I honestly don’t think I forgot anything.” I sighed.

  “So the last time you saw Rob alive was when he left—what is your restaurant called?—Skinny’s on Queen?”

  “Yes,” I said and stopped. “Wait a minute. I did see him after. I was looking out the window after he left, when I saw him about a block and a half down the street. He was walking alone.” I gasped. “Someone caught up to him.”

  Steve perked up. “What direction were they headed?”

  “Toward my house.”

  “That’s great,” Steven said, suddenly intense. “Could you recognize that person again?”

  “They were too far away. I couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman.”

  He fell against the back of his chair, clearly disappointed. “Too bad. If we could prove that someone else saw him after he left the restaurant, it would take much of the suspicion off you.”

  I felt a rush of hope. “All we have to do is find someone who saw them. That shouldn’t be so hard.”

  “I’ll call the police and let them know about this,” he said, no longer sounding hopeful. He thought for a minute. “Have you noticed anyone behaving strangely around you lately?”

  “What do you mean?”

  Instead of answering, he said, “From now on, keep your eyes open. Guilty people tend to act differently. If you notice anyone doing things that are out of character, let me know.”

  “You mean you think the killer might be someone close?”

  He shrugged. “We never know.” He glanced at his watch and abruptly stood. The interview was over. “All right, you still have to make an official statement to the police, but I’ll be there with you. Before you answer any question, I want you to look at me. When I shake my head, you keep your mouth shut. Is that clear?”

  “But I already told them…”

  “Is that clear?” he repeated, this time with more insistence, giving me an unexpected glimpse of the intimidating lawyer Steven became at trial. Luckily, this formidable man was on my side—someone was here to think for me now.

  “Not a word unless you give me the okay,” I repeated obediently.

  “Atta girl. For now, I think you should go home and get some rest. I’ll call you in a few hours.”

  As I walked out of the boardroom, I noticed that my muffin was still on my plate, for the most part untouched. At any other time I would have taken it with me, but the one small bite I’d eaten was now lead in my stomach. In fact, my insides were in such knots, I doubted I’d ever be able to eat again.

  Ha! Who was I fooling? Whenever I was upset, a tub of ice cream was my best friend.

  as genuine as a ten-dollar

  Louis Vuitton

  Toni jumped out of her seat the moment Steven and I walked into the reception area. She wasn’t looking at me but at Steven, wearing that same coy smile she’d flashed at him earlier.

  “That took forever. How’d it go?” Now she was batting her lashes.

  “It went very well.” Steven smiled back at her. “Nicky has nothing to worry about. I’ll take good care of her. Expect the police to contact you to confirm Nicky’s alibi.”

  She nodded. “No problem.”

  Rather than say goodbye and leave, Steven lingered, and I sensed that he wanted a moment with Toni.

  Toni turned to me. “I hate to tell you this, but you look like hell.”

  “Whatever I look like, I feel a thousand times worse.”

  “I don’t know how I can thank you for doing this,” Toni said to Steven, making it sound suggestive. She flipped her hair and fluttered her eyes some more. He stepped closer to her, and I felt like a third wheel. Maybe I could sneak out of here and give them a chance to talk.

  “I sure wouldn’t want to see a beautiful innocent woman go to jail.” Steven looked at me.

  Beautiful? Me? My eyes were swollen from hours of crying. My nose was red. I had mascara tracks all over my face. Hell, I probably looked like something Jackie Chan dragged in. Neither of them was talking, and they looked at me as though waiting for me to speak, or maybe disappear.

  “Er, if there’s anything I can do to thank you…”

  “Don’t you worry.” Steven smiled. “You’ll be getting a bill from me.”


  At the mention of the word bill, the picture of a For Sale sign on my front lawn flashed through my mind. Goodbye house, goodbye car, goodbye life. I’d be sleeping on a park bench or under a bridge for the next decade or two.

  Steven was still talking. “Tell you what. I’ll give you the family discount. But there is one thing you can do.”

  “Anything,” I said, dreading his answer.

  He was looking at Toni expectantly. “Maybe you can talk this lady into having dinner with me some time.”

  Toni blinked. Her coy smile abruptly disappeared. Then, without a word, she walked out, and Steven and I were left staring uncomfortably at each other.

  What the heck…

  *

  Outside, Toni put up her hand and a cab zigged across three lanes of traffic, screeching to a halt inches from the curb. In an instant, the cabbie was out of his seat and holding the door open for us.

  I rattled off my address, and we took off.

  “There will probably be cops swarming all over your place,” Toni said, looking distracted.

  Toni was probably right. Police cars would be parked all the way up and down the street. This was a murder, after all. I could just imagine what the neighbors were saying. A surge of remorse washed over me. How incredibly shallow I was. Rob was dead and here I was worrying about gossip.

  Something occurred to me. “Toni, when I came home this morning, I saw a car pull away from in front of my house. Do you think it might have been the killer’s?”

  “Sorry, what did you say?” she asked, looking out the window.

  “I wish I’d looked at that license plate. But I was too far away. I couldn’t even make out the model.”

  Toni didn’t say a word. She was off in some kind of trance, and I continued trying to make sense of things. “Maybe the killer went in through the front, which would mean it was someone Rob knew. Steven suggested it might even be someone I know.” I cringed. “Does this sound plausible to you?”