Getting Skinny (A Chef Landry Mystery)

by Domovitch, Monique

  “Good grief, you stink,” I told her, and Mitchell and I burst into peals of laughter. We were both laughing so hard that Jackie struggled out of her cover and peered at us as if we were crazy.

  A few minutes later, Mitchell zipped up the back alley and pulled to a stop in my spot.

  “I’ll take a look at that latch tomorrow,” he said, indicating the back gate through which Jackie had escaped. In the dark, I could just make out the line of his jaw. It was a very nice jaw. “You’ll want to make sure this doesn’t happen again.” He smiled, and I got a flash of straight teeth.

  I thanked him and gratefully followed him in the dark to my front door.

  “By the way,” he said, before swinging his legs over the metal railing that separated our doorways. “I think I met one of your friends. She came by and wanted to know if I’d heard or seen anything the night your boyfriend was murdered.”

  “Yes. That was Kim,” I said, thinking “friend” didn’t exactly describe her. “She canvassed the entire neighborhood trying to find anyone who might have seen or heard something.”

  “That’s what good friends do.” He smiled—another quick flash of white. “You’re lucky you have people who care enough to go to such lengths for you.”

  A wave of guilt hit me. Kim was always friendly to me, and here I was constantly pushing her away.

  “About your boyfriend, I’m really sorry,” he continued.

  “Thanks.” For some reason, I felt compelled to explain. “We had already broken up, so it’s not as if—I mean, it’s very sad. It’s just…”

  Was there was something like relief in his eyes? It was hard to tell in the shadows. Maybe it was only wishful thinking.

  “Well, good night,” he said and put his key in his lock. I watched as he closed the door behind him. Hmm. Now why had I thought he was a weirdo?

  By the time I went up to my bedroom, I’d decided that my strange neighbor was not so strange at all. In fact, he was a very nice man.

  As I was climbing into bed, exhausted, I noticed something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. The clock on my bedside table, which I always kept at an angle, was now lined up straight. Someone had been inside my house. Or was I getting paranoid? I hopped back off the bed, looking around. Sure enough, the items on my dresser were all slightly out of place. I pulled open drawer after drawer, and in every one of them, things had been moved.

  A quick inspection of my spare room, the kitchen and the bathroom indicated the entire house had been searched. While I had been searching Mona’s house, somebody had been searching mine. Or—hold on. For all I knew, the intruder could have been going through my house while I was looking for Jackie. But who, and why?

  If Rob was involved with drugs, as seemed to be the case, had somebody come looking for his stash? Another thought occurred to me. Whoever had searched the house could have left the back gate open. But how did they get inside? A cold feeling washed over me. Rob’s key! I’d completely forgotten about it. It wasn’t on the list of items the police had sent. And it wasn’t among the items I’d searched through. Whoever had killed him had taken his key. And the killer could come in any time they wanted.

  I felt weak with fear.

  First thing tomorrow morning I would call a locksmith—if I wasn’t murdered in my sleep during the night. To say I didn’t have a very restful night was to put it mildly.

  tell the truth but just don’t

  tell them I was there

  The locksmith had been and gone, leaving me with a nice fat bill—so nice of him. On the bright side, I now had brand-new, secure locks on all the doors. I was in the middle of my third cup of coffee—a vain attempt to calm my rattled nerves—when the doorbell rang and rang and rang. I made my way hesitantly down the hall, convinced it was the police, here to arrest me. But to my immense relief, when I opened the door Toni was standing there, four-inch heels tapping.

  “Oh Toni, you won’t believe what happened,” I cried. “Somebody broke into my house last night.”

  “What! Are you all right?” She looked me up and down, forehead lined with worry.

  “I’m fine. It happened while I was out.”

  “Oh, thank God. Did you call the police?”

  “Are you crazy? The police must have found my fingerprints at Mona’s by now. The last thing I want is to give them a reason to come over and question me some more. For all I know, the next time they see me, they’ll arrest me.”

  “Was anything taken?”

  I shook my head. “Not that I could tell. I think whoever was here was looking for drugs. They searched everywhere—my bedroom, the bathroom, everywhere,” I repeated.

  She gasped. “You think it was the murderer?” Her eyes darted around. “But how did he get in?”

  “It’s got to be. He must have taken Rob’s copy of my key.” I shivered. “The first thing I did was call the locksmith. I have new locks on the front and back doors.”

  “So we both didn’t sleep last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about you breaking into Mona’s house without wearing gloves.”

  I didn’t like the way she put that.

  “That’s why I’m here. We have to come up with a story. But first, I need a cup of coffee.” She breezed by, heading for the kitchen, stopped, raised her nose, sniffed the air and grimaced. “What in the world…? It stinks in here.”

  “It’s called ‘eau de skunk.’”

  Her expression was a combination of snobbish disgust and disbelief. “You have got to be kidding.”

  “You won’t believe the night I’ve just had,” I grumbled.

  “Don’t expect sympathy from me because, as I said, I didn’t sleep a wink either.” She wagged a finger at me. “And it’s all your fault.”

  I might seriously have murdered her there and then, if I wasn’t in enough trouble already.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve been racking my brain all night trying to figure out what you should do. If the police question you, I hope I don’t get dragged into it.” She shook her head. “I can’t believe you forgot to bring rubber gloves.”

  Before I could point out that she was the one who had insisted on coming along with me, she took another whiff and pinched her nose. “Phe-ew,” she whined. “Let’s get out of here. Come on. I’m taking you out for coffee.”

  *

  Forty-five minutes later, I was sitting a coffee shop in Hazelton Lanes, where a continuous stream of hunks walked by. The best gym in the city was one floor up and it was always filled with good-looking men with buff bodies. Of course this was Toni’s favorite coffee shop. Made me wonder if the eye candy was why she’d bought a condo in this building.

  At any other time I might have enjoyed the muscle parade myself, but I was worried sick about being arrested. I’d been waiting there for half an hour and there was still no sign of her. I was not amused. I should have known the moment Toni suggested we take separate cars that she’d be late. Punctuality was never her strong suit. Didn’t she realize this was an emergency? Sometimes, I swear. Well, that was it.

  I grabbed my bag and was about to leave when I spotted her. She’d changed clothes and wore a short leopard-print skirt and a pair of vertiginously high zebra-print shoes. Her hair, which had been pulled back into a ponytail earlier, was now loose and tumbling onto her shoulders in luxurious curls. She exuded sex. Every man in the place turned and stared. She, however, seemed oblivious to the admiring glances. Now that was unusual.

  “Gee, how nice of you to show up.” I glared, handing her a cup of cold coffee. “It was hot half an hour ago.”

  She plopped into the leather armchair. “Sorry I took so long. I had to stop upstairs and check my messages.”

  “And change clothes, and do your hair,” I added sarcastically.

  She shrugged. I noticed a vein throbbing on her forehead and worry lines between her brows. At least she had the decency to be worried for me. I kept my face carefully blank and looked at my watch.

 
“Well, I’ve had my coffee so I’ll see you later.” I stood.

  “Hold on. Don’t go.” She grabbed my hand. “I’m sorry I took so long. Please stay. We really have to talk.”

  She sounded anxious. In truth, I desperately wanted her to help me come up with a plan. Still, I hated to be placated so easily. I shook my head with frustration and sat back down.

  “Okay, talk. What do you think we should do?”

  “Oh, come on, Nicky. Don’t be upset.”

  “Don’t be upset? You don’t think that worrying about my fingerprints at a murder scene would be enough to make me upset?”

  Toni shushed me and looked around nervously. “Be careful what you say in public. Now, I told you I spent the night thinking about it and—”

  “And what?”

  “First of all, we don’t know that Mona is dead. I bet she’s in the hospital right now eating Jell-O. You have nothing to worry about. She’ll name her attacker.”

  “But what if she isn’t in the hospital? What if she’s in the morgue?”

  She cocked her head and stared me in the eyes. “You’ll just have to tell the police you were there before she was killed. That you and she had a talk, that’s all. That when you left, she was fine.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You mean you want me to lie to the police?” I asked furiously.

  “It’s not like it couldn’t have happened that way,” she answered righteously. “Most women in your situation would have wanted to confront their boyfriend’s mistress.”

  “If this is your idea of a strategy, I’m not impressed. You’re no help at all.” I was halfway out of my chair again when she grabbed my arm. I pulled it away. “What are you trying to do, get me convicted?” I picked up my bag and bolted out of there. I was going up the escalator when Toni caught up with me.

  “Please, Nicky. You can’t tell Steven that I had anything to do with breaking into Mona’s.”

  “Some fine friend you are,” I muttered and climbed a few more steps. “First, you insist on coming along. And then when you could vouch for me, you chicken out.”

  She followed right behind me. “It’s just that he seems interested in me lately and I—I…”

  At the top of the escalator I turned to face her. “You don’t want him to find out because he’ll be angry with you. And if he’s angry, it’ll be bye-bye reconciliation.”

  Tears brimmed in her eyes. She nodded. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I can’t let you face this alone. That would be incredibly selfish of me. Don’t worry. I’ll stand by you.”

  I knew I should have my head examined, but Toni’s tears mellowed me. I sighed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it won’t come to that.”

  She looked at me with such hope in her eyes.

  I shrugged. “I suppose it is a plausible story. And it does sound better than breaking and entering.”

  She nodded enthusiastically.

  “And if I have to go to jail,” I continued, giving her the guilt trip she deserved, “there’s no point in both of us doing time. Someone has to stay behind and take care of the business—and of Jackie.”

  But the darn thing about Toni was that she didn’t do guilt. “That’s right,” she said. “I knew you’d see things my way.”

  My anger had dissipated, so I told her about Jackie’s disappearance.

  “Sprayed by a skunk,” she exclaimed. “Well that explains the stink. You’ll never get rid of that smell.”

  “You might be right about that. I gave Jackie two more shampoos, and she still smells like Pepé Le Pew.”

  “You’ll have to keep your windows open for days.”

  “Great, so whoever broke in can just climb in.” I sighed. “I’m just grateful I found her safe and sound. I don’t know what I would have done if I’d lost her. I love that little dog like she’s my baby.”

  “Hmm. Reminds me of the old saying, ‘The more I know men, the more I love my dog.’” She shrugged. “The way you talk about Jackie, you make me wish I had a dog, too. I’ve been considering adopting one.”

  Now that startled me. “Really?”

  “Then I remember my last dog.”

  “I had no idea you’d had a dog.”

  She chuckled. “Come on. Of course you remember. I showed you the wedding pictures.”

  It took me a moment to get her joke. “Ha-ha. Very funny.”

  “Speaking of that particular dog,” she said, looking slightly embarrassed, “he left me a message. He wants me to have dinner with him.”

  Ah, that explained it. “Admit it. Something is going on between you two.”

  “No, nothing at all,” she declared, her eyes wide with innocence. “I swear.”

  I searched her face. “So, will you accept his invitation?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe if he orders crow.” Her sneer evaporated. “I don’t know what I should do.” Her bottom lip quivered. “I think I might still have feelings for him.”

  I let a minute pass while people walked by. Toni stood there looking tortured. “The question is,” I said, carefully weighing my words, “do you think he still has feelings for you?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea. Maybe.”

  “What would be the worst-case scenario if you saw him again?”

  “That’s easy. Heartbreak.” She replied without a moment’s hesitation.

  I nodded. “Now consider that against the best-case scenario.”

  When she glanced up at me, her eyes were sparkling. “If I thought there was even a slight chance…”

  “There’s your answer. I think you’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’re a strong lady. If things don’t turn out the way you want them to, you won’t fall apart. You’d hurt for a while, but in the end, you’d be fine. Besides, you won’t get him unless you take a chance.”

  As she listened, she gradually regained her composure. “You’re right,” she said in her usual cocky tone. “You’re absolutely right. Like I always say, ‘Don’t be afraid of going out on a limb. That’s where the fruit is.’” She looked at me. “You would do well to remember that yourself, my friend.”

  *

  On my way home I turned on the car radio. I was concentrating on the traffic, so by the time I paid attention to the news, the announcer was halfway through his report. With a start, I realized that he was speaking about Mona.

  “…was found in her Carlaw Street home last night. The police are treating this as a homicide. Until the victim’s family has been notified, the name of the victim will remain confidential. A source close to the department tells us that the police already have a suspect for this, the eleventh murder this year. We’ll have more on this later.”

  My hands shook so hard I had to pull over. I made a quick right off University onto College and slid into a parking spot. Faint with nausea, I fished through my bag for my cell phone and called Toni.

  “Are you listening to the radio?” she asked, before even saying hello.

  “I just heard.” My voice trembled. All around me, pedestrians went on their business but I had the horrible feeling that everyone was watching me.

  “Oh, God, Toni, she’s dead! What do we do?”

  And of course, the one time I wished Toni did have an idea, all she said was “I have no fucking clue.”

  “I think we should tell Steven.”

  “No!” Toni screamed so loudly I almost dropped the phone. When she continued, it was in a calmer voice. “No, you can’t do that. I don’t want Steven to find out I had any part in this.”

  “Arrest isn’t a possibility anymore, Toni. The police will arrest me.”

  She disregarded this. “Swear to me you’ll never tell Steven.”

  “Toni, there is no way in hell I’m risking my freedom just so you can snag Steven.”

  “Okay, fine. Go ahead and tell the truth, but just don’t tell them I was there.”

  After that, I couldn’t bring myself to go home. I was certain the police were there waiti
ng for me. I glanced at my watch. It was already one o’clock. I started the car again and drove to Skinny’s. I parked two blocks away, hurried over to the restaurant and took refuge in the kitchen. All around me were the things that gave me comfort. The wonderful Wolf stove that came with the rental of this space, the myriad copper pots hanging from racks above the counters, and the cast iron pans stored on the shelves under those same counters.

  I ran my hand over the worn wood of the decades-old butcher-block island facing the stove. I closed my eyes and prayed. Please, I don’t want to go to jail.

  I had to keep busy. I decided to practice a new recipe I’d been thinking of adding to our menu. I went in search of onions and began to peel.

  By the time two-thirty rolled around, I had caramelized-onion flatbread baking in the oven, homemade fettuccine drying on dish towels, and tomato-basil sauce simmering on the stove. The wonderful smells in the air made me feel much better. Cooking always soothed my nerves.

  By now I’d managed to convince myself that the smartest thing to do was nothing. I’d had time to recall my unpleasant encounters with Crawford and Driscoll. The last thing I wanted was to endure another interrogation. It was probable that the police would question me regarding Mona’s murder. Not only was I connected to both Rob and Mona, but the same brand of knives had been used to kill both of them. The Chroma used to kill Rob had probably been a weapon of opportunity, but in Mona’s case? Somebody had gone to the trouble of purchasing that knife in order to frame me, not knowing that I only had the one. I tried to remember if I’d seen any knives in Mona’s kitchen, and if I had, what brand they were. I drew a blank.

  The chances of Mona having the same brand of professional knives as I did were slim, to say the least. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure. I was being framed. But why? And by whom? Cold dread washed over me.

  Toni was right. I couldn’t let anyone know I’d been in Mona’s house the night she was murdered. If anyone found out I was there, I wouldn’t be a sitting duck any longer. I’d be a cooked goose.

  I was sitting at the corner table of the dining room when Toni burst in. “You can’t tell a soul,” she exclaimed, her hand still on the door handle. “No one.”