Getting Skinny (A Chef Landry Mystery)

by Domovitch, Monique

  She was watching the road ahead and a pensive silence descended that stretched until she turned up Bayview. “Have you thought about how Rob’s mother might react when she sees you?”

  “I don’t know.” I’d been trying not to think about that. “I only hope she doesn’t think I did it.”

  “If she confronts you, just leave.”

  “I’m hoping it won’t come to that.”

  *

  I entered the funeral home bolstered by Toni’s support, my stomach in knots. Near the entrance, guests huddled, speaking quietly. I spotted Kim. I’d been avoiding her calls for three days. She looked up and hurried over. I so didn’t have the energy to deal with her at that moment.

  “Sweetheart, how are you?” She hugged me carefully, as if I might break.

  “I didn’t know you’d be here, Kim. I’m sorry I didn’t call you back.”

  “Don’t be silly,” she said. “I understand. I shouldn’t have called so often, but I just wanted you to know I’m here if you need me.”

  It was nice of her to come, I told myself. In fact, Kim was always nice—nice but imposing. “Thank you for understanding.”

  Further in, I spotted Susan and Brian Harris talking to Harry Johnson. When Susan glanced my way her eyes lit up, then just as quickly they grew cold, and she turned away. I wanted to run. Did everybody here think I was a murderer?

  “Nicky,” a voice next to me said. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Gordon Page took my hand and squeezed it.

  My reply came out choked. “Thank you,” I murmured. He released my hand and I ventured further inside.

  I stopped before Rob’s memorial table. Toni picked up a silver-framed picture of Rob as a baby. “Look at those fat cheeks and that toothless smile.” She replaced the picture and chose another. “Here he is in his graduation cape and cap.”

  This was too painful. I turned away. Toni moved closer and patted my back.

  I looked up and my heart almost stopped. Rob’s mother stood a few feet away. She was crying softly in a handkerchief, nodding at something a nearby woman was saying when she looked up and saw me. As much as I tried to, I couldn’t read her face. Then she held out her hand and smiled.

  The wave of relief that rushed through me was so overwhelming, it left me faint. “Mrs. Grant, I…I…” I was at a loss for words.

  “Come,” she said. “Let’s find a corner somewhere.”

  “Yes, I…” I glanced back at Toni.

  “Go ahead.” She waved me away.

  I followed Mrs. Grant to a couple of chairs in the far corner. “I’m so glad you came,” she said, sitting. “I wasn’t sure you would.”

  “I had to come.”

  She looked me squarely in the eye. “I understand the police consider you a suspect.” She tilted her head, studying me. “Under the circumstances it took a lot of courage on your part to show up here. Nicky, you know I’ve always liked you.”

  I nodded, holding back tears. “I know…”

  “Forgive me, but I have to ask…”

  I gasped. I didn’t need to hear the words. I already knew what she wanted to know. “No, I didn’t. I swear, Mrs. Grant. It wasn’t me. I—”

  She halted me with one hand. “I’m sorry, dear. I needed to hear you say it. I know you loved Robert.” She shook her head sadly. “I heard about his affair.” She hesitated. “Robert was lucky to have you. In time, he would have regretted his behavior.”

  Her words were salve to my wounded soul, and tears quivered on my lashes. “Thank you, Mrs. Grant.” Until she spoke, I had no idea how much I’d needed to hear those words.

  “I know my son loved you. He made a stupid mistake.” Surely, if Rob’s own mother felt this way, then the police would have to believe it, too. “How about you, dear? How’s the restaurant doing?”

  “Everything is fine. Thank you for asking. Mrs. Grant, I still have Rob’s medical books, his art collection—I’m not sure what I should do with them.”

  “Oh, his art collection.” Her voice cracked. “I’d be grateful for a few pieces.”

  “Of course. I’ll bring them by.”

  “That’s very nice of you,” she said. I wished it was pure niceness but I just wanted everything out—all of Rob out from my home.

  After we set a date for me to drop off his belongings, I gathered my courage and walked over to the memorial table again. He looked so young, so happy, in all his pictures. All at once I felt a wave of dizziness, and I had to escape before I fell apart. I couldn’t sit through a litany of eulogies. I turned to flee and came face-to-face with Harry Johnson.

  “Nicky, how are you?”

  I ignored him and walked, then ran, until I was in the parking lot, bent over Kim’s car, my palms on the hood, gasping for breath. When I looked up, Toni and Kim were running toward me.

  Toni looked ready for a fight. “Did Rob’s mother upset you?”

  Kim patted my back. “Take a deep breath.”

  I straightened up slowly and Toni wrapped her arms around me. The floodgates opened and I was inconsolable. As she drove me home later, I asked if she still thought I was holding everything inside.

  She chuckled. “Good thing you stopped crying when you did because I was out of tissue.”

  For some bizarre reason this struck me as hilarious, and I started to laugh. I laughed and keep laughing until my ribs ached; I still couldn’t stop. The concerned look on Toni’s face told me she wasn’t too sure about my sanity. And frankly, at this moment, I wasn’t so sure myself.

  like a not-too-happy sitting duck

  In the off-leash area of Trinity Bellwoods Park, Jackie sat inches from my ankles, watching the big dogs at play and feigning innocent interest in their doggy activities. But I knew better. Jackie was biding her time. She tensed. Twenty yards away, a Doberman was running after a ball. Like a shot, Jackie was off. She chased after that Doberman as fast as her four-inch legs would carry her, barking ferociously the whole way. As soon as the dog caught the ball and turned back, Jackie came to a skidding stop and scampered back to the safety of my ankles.

  “Good for you, Jackie. You sure showed that big dog,” I told her, and I swear she looked proud. “You are so vicious.” I clipped on her leash and started for home. Jackie refused to budge.

  “Come on, Jackie. Let’s go.” It amazed me how much resistance my three-pound dog could create when she dug in her heels. “Walk, Jackie. Want a treat?” I fumbled in my pocket for a dog biscuit and inadvertently dropped the leash. In an instant, Jackie was bouncing across the park, her leash whipping in the wind, and I was after her in mad pursuit. When I caught up with her at last, Jackie was muzzle to muzzle with another Yorkie, this one even smaller than she was.

  Standing nearby was Kim, smiling happily at the scene.

  “Kim, what are you doing here? Is that dog yours?”

  “Yes, isn’t he sweet? His name is Charlie. I just got him from the SPCA.”

  “I had no idea you were looking for a dog.”

  “Oh I’ve always wanted one, and lately I thought, why not?” she said, and then, smiling brightly, she added, “We should take our walks together. The dogs would enjoy it.”

  “Well, I—”

  “Oh, look. They’re kissing.” Indeed, the dogs were licking each other’s faces. “How cute is that?”

  “They certainly seem to like each other.” I glanced at my watch. “Wish I could stay but I’ve got to run.”

  “Before you go,” she said, and I steeled myself for another invitation I’d have to turn down, “I don’t know if Toni told you, but I went door to door and spoke to your neighbors. I was hoping to find a witness, but nobody heard a thing.”

  “She did tell me. Thanks for trying.” When I crouched to pick up Jackie, she scooted away. “Jackie,” I reprimanded her. I couldn’t wait to get out of there. “Come.” She huddled up to Charlie. I scooped her up before she could run off.

  “Oh, they were having such a good time,” Kim said.


  “It was nice running into you,” I said. And then I made my escape.

  Damn it. It wasn’t enough that Kim called and showed up all the time, now she’d bought a dog—another ploy to get close—but why? She had been at the memorial service… Could she…? Ridiculous—the woman was a pest, but I couldn’t imagine her as a killer. Besides, what could possibly have been her motive?

  *

  I was fishing through my purse for my keys when I spotted my weirdo neighbor watching from his window again. Why didn’t he get a life and stop spying on me? Okay, I knew he wasn’t actually spying, but he was always there. It unnerved me. On second thought, I had earned the right to a bit of paranoia. He waved at me. I ignored him.

  I’d just locked the door behind me when the telephone rang. I hurriedly unclipped Jackie’s leash and dashed to the phone. It was Toni. “Nicky, guess who just reserved a table for tonight?” Without waiting for my answer, she continued in a stage whisper. “Janice and Simon Bradley.”

  “I’ll be right over.”

  *

  When I walked into the restaurant kitchen, the place was chaotic. Pots were steaming on the stove, and through the haze I spotted Marley chopping parsley on the vegetable counter. Next to him, Scott was stirring a sauce chasseur at the stove while, at the assembly counter, Toni was decorating plates of fettuccine alfredo, artfully placing curls of Parmigiano-Reggiano atop the mounds. She fanned slices of roasted red peppers on one side of the plate, interspersing them with sprigs of fresh rosemary.

  How’s business today?” In the month since we’d opened, we hadn’t seen a busy night yet, but I was determined to believe that it was just a matter of time, and that if we kept doing what we were doing—serving great food at good prices—business was bound to pick up. Meanwhile I was racking my brains trying to come up with innovative ideas to attract more customers.

  “Not bad,” she replied with a touch of disappointment.

  “Hopefully things will improve before we run out of money.” I sighed. “I had no idea how difficult running a restaurant would be.”

  She put on her cheerleader voice. “Come on, buck up. Things will get better. And you know what they say, ‘Backbone trumps wishbone every time.’”

  “Maybe so, but these days I have no more backbone than a chocolate éclair.” I looked around. “Where’s Charles?”

  Toni shrugged. “Seems he’s still under the weather. He phoned earlier and sounded so weak, I told him to stay home.”

  “So who’s been cooking?”

  She gave me an offended look. “Me! Who else?”

  “Do I take it you might be open to cooking more often?”

  “In a pinch, I don’t mind, but I prefer plating.”

  “And nobody does that better than you,” I said, earning myself a smile. “Charles has been sick a lot lately, hasn’t he?”

  She came closer and whispered, “I think it’s drugs. I didn’t tell you, but I happened to catch a peek inside his backpack a few days ago and he had syringes. I think we should have a talk with him as soon as he gets back.”

  “Drugs?” I was silent for a second as I digested this. The idea had occurred to me, but only in passing, and Toni’s information about syringes shocked me. “That’s not good. Do you think we should start looking for someone else?”

  “Let’s have a talk with him first. Then we’ll decide.”

  All at once I took in what she was wearing. “Not to change the subject, but, aren’t you brave?” Instead of a chef’s jacket, she was sporting a form-fitting red dress and her usual four-inch shoes.

  She gave me a quizzical look. “What do you mean?”

  I picked an apron from the hook and threw it to her. “Keep that pretty little dress of yours from getting ruined.”

  She put it on. “I do have a date tonight,” she said, tying the strings behind her neck, “And this is my lucky dress.” She tossed her hair back and grinned at me. “And lucky is what I plan on getting.”

  “And who might the bad boy be?” I asked.

  “Oh, nobody you know,” she said with a sly smile. She walked over to the door and snuck a peek into the dining room. “Can you believe how busy we are? This is the busiest we’ve ever been.”

  I walked over and looked. More customers had come in, and Jake was rushing around seating them. Of all nights for Charles to not come in, he had to pick the one time we were busy. There was only one empty table, which had a Reserved sign. I ventured a guess. “I’m not sure, but I’m hoping it’s because we’re starting to get famous.”

  “Ha! Wishful thinking.”

  “Well, why else?”

  “It might have something to do with Sugar’s being temporarily closed. Seems someone set fire to the shed behind their kitchen last night, and it spread. I’d like to shake that arsonist’s hand.”

  Sugar’s was our closest competitor and a constant thorn in our sides since we’d discovered three of our dishes on their menu, three dishes that I invented. In the restaurant business, that meant war.

  A horrible thought occurred to me. “Toni, you didn’t!” I whispered.

  She smacked my pointed finger away and planted both hands on her hips. “What do you think I am, crazy? Of course I didn’t. I was joking, for Christ’s sake. I have no idea who would do a thing like that.”

  I sighed with relief. “For a second there, I thought…”

  “It’s easy to jump to conclusions. That’s what the police did and look at the mess you’re in.” Toni slapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, honey, I’m so, so sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

  Stunned back to reality, I swallowed hard. For a few short minutes, I’d almost forgotten about my troubles.

  Before I could say anything, Jake burst into the kitchen, waving his arms excitedly. “The Bradleys are here,” he said in a gush, and the tension was broken. “I pulled their table as far from the others as I could, like you asked.”

  “Good job,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “Now go out there and get their drink order and,” she added with a wink, “whatever it is, make it a double.”

  Forty-five minutes later, Jake confirmed that the Bradleys were beginning their main course, canard à la moutarde en molère. Loosely translated that meant “raging duck in a mustard sauce,” which pretty much described the way I’d been feeling lately, like a not-too-happy sitting duck.

  I threw on a clean chef’s jacket, stepped into the dining room and began to circulate. I stopped by each table and chatted with the patrons. This was a part of my job I enjoyed. I made sure my clients were happy with their meals. I answered questions about the ingredients and made them feel valued. I reached the Bradley’s table last.

  “Janice, Simon, how nice to see you.”

  Janice jumped out of her chair to kiss me. “Please sit with us,” she said, pulling a chair. “I’ve been meaning to get in touch with you since Rob’s…”

  To my embarrassment, my eyes moistened. It had already been a week since Rob was killed. It was hard to believe. Any allusion to him or to his murder, and waterworks threatened.

  Janice blushed and her comment trailed off unfinished. She started again. “We were planning to go to Seafood Palace just up the street. Have you ever been?”

  I nodded. “I was there just a few months ago.” Kim had cornered me into joining her for dinner there. The evening had turned into a disaster when I tried one of her oysters. “Unfortunately, that’s where I found out that I’m deathly allergic to oysters. They had to call an ambulance and rush me to the hospital.”

  “Oh, that must have been frightening. Anyhow, I suggested we come here instead, didn’t I, Simon?” She was babbling nervously. If I could just stop tearing up whenever someone mentioned Rob, maybe people wouldn’t be so uncomfortable around me.

  He nodded. “We were hoping to see you. We feel so awful for your loss.”

  “I appreciate that.” The awkwardness of a moment ago morphed into gratitude.

  “So tragic,” Janic
e added. “Simon and I really feel for you.”

  “I’m sorry we couldn’t stay for the service. Janice was on call,” Simon explained. Before I could tell them that I’d left before the ceremony myself, he continued, “We know how much you loved Rob, and can only imagine how painful this must be.”

  Janice leaned forward. “We were shocked,” she said, touching my arm, “completely and utterly shocked. We can’t make sense of it.”

  I took a deep breath. “Well, Rob was seeing someone else.”

  Janice’s eyes widened. “What makes you think that?”

  “I overheard your conversation with her, Janice.” I watched her face flush, and took pity on her. “It wasn’t your fault. It was one of those strange coincidences.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, knowing full well.

  I spelled it out for her. “I was in the washroom when you confronted her the night of the party. I overheard everything.”

  “What conversation?” Simon asked.

  Janice glanced from her husband to me. “I didn’t tell Simon about it. I, er, I was looking for Rob at the hospital one night. I thought he might be napping in one of the on-call rooms. When I walked in—” she faltered, “—he and Mona—” Mona! So that was her name, “—were in bed together. This was just a few days before the party, so when I saw her here, I was livid.” She turned to me, her eyes apologetic. “I’m so sorry you had to hear that.”

  “Don’t worry about it, Janice. I’m grateful I found out. Besides, you were defending me.”

  “So you’re not upset with me?”

  “Of course not. Although the police do think I killed Rob out of jealousy. They think overhearing the conversation sent me off the deep end.”

  Janice gasped. “They can’t seriously think you did it?”

  “They sure do.”

  “What can we do to help,” Simon asked somberly.

  “There is one thing. Mona had as much of a motive for killing Rob as I did. Maybe more. When I confronted him, Rob swore up and down that she didn’t mean a thing to him. He swore I was the woman he loved, and begged for another chance.” I was stretching the truth, but what the heck. “He was planning to break up with her.”