Recipe for Love (Entangled Select Suspense)

by Dyann Love Barr

  “You’re right—I mean—I wasn’t expectin’ company so early in the mornin’.” She smoothed down the front of her robe, her eyes darting away from his scrutiny. “I’m not even dressed.”

  “I can see that.”

  “I had a restless night so I took a hot shower. Very invigoratin’.” She hoped that would explain her red face and rattled composure. She gave him a bright smile and closed the door just a bit to let him know she didn’t plan on inviting him in. “Why don’t you go to the lobby and wait while I get dressed. We’ll have those doughnuts—downstairs.”

  “Are you sure everything is all right?” He scanned the room with cold, analytical precision. “You seem distracted.”

  “Tyler—” She didn’t have to stumble over an explanation. To her horror, Jordan sauntered up to her and threw his arm over her shoulder. “Perfect timing.” He leaned forward to take the bag from Tyler’s hand. “I thought the whole cops and doughnuts thing was just a stereotype.”

  “The KCPD takes our doughnuts very seriously, Kelly.”

  She shook off Jordan’s arm. “Play nice.” If they started up again, she’d throw both of them out, even if Jordan had left her body humming and unfulfilled.

  “Busted.” Tyler’s tight smile said he hadn’t missed Jordan’s little display of possessiveness. He held out the coffee to her. “Light, no sugar. I got some more of the little half and half containers just in case it’s not right.”

  “Thanks.” She took the caddy and placed it on the end table by the couch. “I’m sure it’s fine.”

  “I don’t remember making any breakfast plans with you.” Jordan glanced over at her. “Did we?” He opened the bag, dipping in his hand and pulling out a glazed doughnut.

  The sugary, sweet scent of the icing, along with the heady aroma of yeast dough made her stomach pitch and roll. “We didn’t.” She decided the wrong person hid in the bathroom. “I need to get changed.” She plucked at the front of her robe. “I’ll only be a minute.”

  Jordan took a bite of doughnut. His eyes widened in surprise as he licked his lips and swallowed. “These are outstanding.” He pushed half of the remaining doughnut into his mouth and made a little moan of ecstasy as he chewed. “Ooo godda haff ond uf deebs.” He held out the bag and gave it a shake in Tilly’s direction. The doughnut muffled his words, but she understood what he meant.

  The last thing she wanted was a doughnut. A good escape route, but not a doughnut.

  She held up her hand to ward off his attempt to get her to eat the deep fried pastry. “No thanks. Be right back.” She grabbed the clothes she’d laid out on the bed before Jordan showed up and ran into the bathroom. Her face burned with embarrassment. She sat on the closed lid of the toilet seat and prayed for a nice, black hole to open up and engulf her whole. Sometimes the answer to prayer is ‘no’. A big fat ‘NO.’

  …

  Jordan put the bag of doughnuts on the table by the coffee and dusted the sugar off his hands. “This is awkward.” No matter how nice he’d planned to be, he felt himself morphing into a knuckle-dragging Neanderthal the minute Jericho knocked on the door. Once again, gut-deep jealousy twisted him into knots. He’d never felt this way about Gemma, or any of the other women he dated, but he had flipped a switch in his psyche the moment she swore off cocktail weenies.

  “A bit.” The guy jammed his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. His cold, penetrating stare made Jordan’s jaw jump with a nervous tic. “You went out of your way to embarrass the lady.”

  He hated the flash of heat warming his face. “You’re right. Absolutely right. Matilda is a lady, but she’s a gargantuan pain in the ass.” He thumped his chest with one hand and remembered he’d seen something similar in a special about gorillas on Animal Planet. He chuckled. “But she’s my pain in the ass.” Memories rushed at him with the speed of a runaway semi. “You know, I disliked her the moment I met her. Our take on food is a complete one-eighty from each other. I have awards, degrees, and recognition from the highest culinary institutions in the country, but that little twerp has beaten the pants off me every time we go head to head.” He paced the floor and raked his hands through his hair. He wasn’t about to tell the detective that she’d become as important to him as his next breath, but he could make sure the guy knew to leave her alone. “Things change. They have changed.”

  “I won’t lie and say I’m okay with this. She can tell me what she wants, when she wants it.”

  The bathroom door opened and she came out dressed in jeans and a light blue sweater. Jordan’s eyes went to her breasts for a quick check. Shit, still braless. That would have to be taken care of ASAP. He didn’t want the guy getting any more ideas about her. The ones he already had were bad enough.

  He took a quick peek at her feet. Brown and blue striped socks now covered the daisies. Just as well. No telling what those daisies would do to whet the detective’s appetite.

  It didn’t stop the guy from checking her out from head to toe.

  She hadn’t bothered with makeup. Not that she needed it. Soft brown lashes accented her eyes and her complexion was flawless, except for a few freckles across the bridge of her nose. Jordan’s eyes narrowed as he watched Jericho’s appreciative smile.

  It was time to bring the detective back to planet Earth. “You said something about a new development.”

  His gaze swung away from her and back to Jordan. “The email turned out to be a dead end. It was all bogus, exactly like you thought it would be. Green’s email was spoofed, and it was made to look as if it had originated from Olivia’s computer. There’s one little problem with that scenario—she dropped off her computer for repairs Saturday, right before the competition. The killer didn’t know that.”

  “He’s startin’ to make mistakes.” Tilly hugged herself and rubbed her upper arm with her good hand as if to ward off a chill. “I knew she didn’t do it.”

  “I have to agree with Tilly.” He wrapped his arm around her, this time to comfort instead of stake a claim. She leaned into him. “Someone is framing Olivia Vargas.”

  “What? You believe me now?” She looked up at him, surprise in her glorious blue eyes. “Why did you change your mind? I mean, weren’t you all—the evidence says she’s guilty—case closed.”

  She didn’t pull any punches. Her words gave him the same dull ache in the pit of his stomach that he had after he’d witnessed Olivia on the news. He’d been so sure of the woman’s guilt. ““The more I think about things, the less cut-and-dried it is.” He frowned. “She was arrested early this morning for Bolzano’s murder. It was on the news.”

  She looked at the detective. Concern and a touch of anger clouded her face. “Is that true?”

  “Yes.” Jericho didn’t flinch at the accusation in her voice. “The police have the murder weapon. Her fingerprints and blood were found on the chef knife. The lab did a rush job on the DNA, courtesy of The Culinary Channel. It was expensive as hell, but they got the results back in less than six hours. The genetic material on the knife belonged to both victims and Vargas.”

  “She cut her hand during the competition on Friday night.” Jordan frowned as he thought over the sequence of events. “Tom’s out. He injured his hand before Friday night but he doesn’t have any new cuts. Besides, his blood wasn’t on the murder weapon.”

  “That means my theory about the murderer havin’ a cut on their hand was wrong.” Her shoulders slumped with disappointment. “I was so sure that had to be it.”

  He gave her a quick squeeze of encouragement. “It means everyone else is still a suspect.”

  “The killer is still out there.” Her whispered words said what they all knew, deep down.

  “It still looks bad for her.” Jericho motioned to one of the green and white striped chairs. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “No, not at all.” She glanced up at Jordan to see if he had any objections.

  He gave in with a sigh. “Sure, why not.” He pulled out a chair at the small d
ining table for her. Jericho sat opposite him.

  She picked up her coffee, took a sip, and nodded in approval. “Good, it’s still warm.” She sat and took another drink before rolling the disposable cup back and forth between her fingers. “What else could go wrong for that poor woman?”

  Jordan sat beside her and took her good hand in his. “I think you ought to know why I changed my mind. A lot of little things that didn’t add up.” He glanced up at the detective. “I turned on the news this morning because I couldn’t stop thinking about the murder. There she was, being led out of the police car and into jail. She swore her innocence on her children’s lives.”

  Tilly’s other hand went to her mouth to cover her wobbling lips. Tears shimmered. “Oh no. That just breaks my heart.” A red flush stained her cheeks and her face looked as if she were in pain. “I know I should have said something earlier. It was wrong to hold back information from you, Tyler. I think I tried to tell you on the phone while I was in the emergency room, but I was so out of it.”

  “Tell me now.”

  “I went to some of the vendors as they were packin’ up and bought a couple of new knives. The guy said he sold one to her the mornin’ after the murder.”

  “I already knew about it. She told us when we questioned her for Bolzano’s murder.”

  “What?” Jordan sat straight in his chair. “Why would she do that?”

  “She said her ten-inch chef knife went missing right after the competition. At first she thought it might have ended up in the utensils provided by The Culinary Channel. She checked, but it wasn’t there. She stated she went to the Old Time Knife and Scissors booth at the convention and purchased a new one. That has been confirmed by the vendor.”

  “Somebody picked up her knife while the crew was gettin’ things cleaned up.” She sat up straight, her eyes squinted in thought. “So it had to be someone who wouldn’t seem out of place.”

  “It could’ve been any one of the contestants. If they used the gloves provided to the staff, then all bets are off.” Jericho pushed away his coffee in frustration, showing the first real crack in his professional cool. “The only person we’ve ruled out so far is Gilmore. He and his partner were out until three in the morning celebrating with friends. His alibi is good. Barrows is still a possibility, but he doesn’t have a clear motive. Miranda Franklin and Austin Kenslo were consoling each other until the wee hours. Even Nick Prochazka was throwing back drinks with the video crew.”

  “Didn’t anyone hear the shower going all night?”

  The detective pulled out his phone. “Let me check my notes.” He thumbed through the phone and finally tapped on the screen. “Franklin said Ethridge liked his privacy and demanded The Culinary Channel book the suites on either side of his.” He sighed in frustration. “I’m not supposed to be biased. It’s my job to look at things from all sides. All sides. But none of the pieces fit together—we may not have the killer in custody.”

  “But you really don’t believe she committed the murders?” Her face lit up with hope. She jumped out of her chair and walked in front of the window while she worried her thumbnail. “Jordan doesn’t think she did it, either. Now how do we prove it to everyone else?”

  Jericho shook his head. “My superiors want a quick resolution to this publicity mess. The place is crawling with national as well as local media.” His eyes grew soft as he gazed at her. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep hammering away until I can find something to prove her innocence. My gut has never let me down before.”

  Jordan glared at the detective. My gut has never let me down before. He had to stifle a snort and resorted to stuffing the remaining doughnut into his mouth.

  “Thank you.” She came back to the table and sat next to Jericho, taking his hands in hers. “You’ve set my mind at ease.”

  “No problem. Oh, and don’t forget.” The detective looked at his watch. “There’s a press conference scheduled for two this afternoon. I understand you’re supposed to be there.”

  “Why? We haven’t done anything to help yet.” Jordan barely got his question past the lump of dough in his mouth.

  “The Culinary Channel is shelling out big bucks for the cost of the forensic analysis. Not to mention the city will be featured prominently in the special they’re doing on Ethridge. KCPD wants to make nice.” Jericho got to his feet, leaned down, and kissed Tilly on the cheek. “I’ll see you later this afternoon.”

  “Okay, we’ll be there.”

  Jordan followed Jericho to the door. The detective glanced over to the table where she sat sipping her coffee and waving good-bye. “See if you can keep her out of any more trouble.”

  “Remember what I said about her being a pain in the ass?” He leaned against the door jamb. “I’ve got my work cut out for me.” He closed the door and turned to see her standing behind him. Her eyes narrowed to dangerous slits.

  “Did you just say I was a pain in the ass?”

  Chapter Fourteen

  “What? No!” His face reddened all the way up to his ears. “I told him to—ah—it was plain as glass.”

  “Plain as glass?” She knew what she heard and wanted to see how he wiggled out of telling her the truth. A niggle of hurt wormed its way into her heart. “That’s what you said? Are you sure?”

  He brushed past her and grabbed up the bag on the table. “There’s still a couple of doughnuts in here. Do you want one?” He shook the bag under her nose. “One glazed and a chocolate Long John. You know you want one. Come on.”

  She pushed the bag away. “Using another man’s doughnuts to bribe your way out of an explanation is just plain tacky. What is plain as glass?”

  “Olivia’s innocence.” He looked everywhere but at her. “Coffee, we need more coffee.” He raced over to the small coffee maker and pulled out the complimentary coffee packet. He grabbed the glass pot. “Excuse me. I’ll go get some water.”

  “My cup is still half full.” She took the carafe from his hand and set it on the small countertop. “And I distinctly heard ‘pain in the ass.’”

  “Eavesdropper,” he grumbled, and threw the coffee packet on the counter beside the pot.

  “Oh, it’s my fault I heard you say it, hmmm?”

  “I basically told him to back off, that you were taken.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her hip to one side. “By telling him I’m a pain in the ass?”

  “Sure.” He gave her a wan smile. “It’s not easy putting up with someone as pigheaded as you. It takes an individual who’s equally as stubborn. Personally, I don’t think the guy has the chops.”

  “He looked rock steady to me.” She waved her finger in the air. “Just because you saw me naked doesn’t give you the right to run my life. Got it? We’re goin’ too fast. I don’t want to end up another statistic because, Lord knows, I’ve already been down that road and the damn horse went lame.” She bit her lower lip. How many times did her lack of judgment about men come back to bite her on the butt? In spite of this gorgeous man lobbing hormonal hand grenades in her direction, she needed time to think. She took him by the arm and led him to the door. “Go on. I’ll see you at the press conference.”

  He balked for a second. It was there in the dark depths of his eyes. He didn’t want to leave without winning the debate, but he finally nodded with a sigh. “Okay. Call me if you need anything. See you around two.” His hand came out to touch her cheek, stroking her skin with his thumb and stoking the embers into a flame. That incorrigible thumb feathered across her bottom lip. Little shards of desire skittered down her spine.

  “Jordan, please.” She didn’t want to give him the pleasure—or ego boost—of letting out so much as a small moan. She lost the battle. The ache of emptiness grew stronger, the need to be filled pooled between her legs.

  “‘Please’ what?” His breath whispered over her skin. “Tell me.” His self-satisfied tone threw water on her heated libido.

  “Go.” She jerked back from his caress. “Just
go.”

  He held up his hands in surrender as he backed out of the door. “We’ve got until two.”

  “Forget it. I don’t want to see you until the press conference.”

  “But—” Tilly pushed the door shut in his smiling face.

  The morning had started off with an almost bang and ended in a whimper—hers.

  She needed something to do, anything to take her mind off his proposition to while away the time until the press conference. It would be too easy to give in to him. She’d already caught up on work, but it wouldn’t hurt to check in with her executive chef in her Louisville restaurant about the shipment of turkeys for the Thanksgiving rush.

  The rest of the day loomed into a vast wasteland of television or Pay-Per-View movies. She hated the idea of running into Miranda and Nick if she left her room to go shopping. They’d follow her around for no good reason except they were bored and needed something in the can for Hirschberg.

  The media lay in wait the minute either she or Jordan made an appearance. It was a madhouse. She had to get out of here, get some fresh air before she went crazy, took a page from Jordan’s book, and went ninja on everyone.

  She rummaged around in her purse for a pair of overlarge sunglasses. The goofy things were another gift from Sarah. The glasses had bright red, heart-shaped frames with rhinestones around the lenses. She carried them to feel closer to her kid, but now they might help her get out of the hotel without being noticed.

  She slid them on and searched in her luggage until she found the red and blue scarf to hide her famous red hair. She grabbed up her purse and jacket and left the hotel, going down the stairs and into the kitchen where she used a side entrance. Once outside, the fall wind picked up, the chill of it biting her fingers and toes. The walk was only a couple of blocks down the street to a Starbucks, but Tilly kept looking over her shoulder just in case Miranda or Nick caught sight of her.

  She opened the door, thankful for the warmth. The thick smell of fresh espresso flavored the air. The line at the counter was long, but she had no real desire for coffee or any of the treats offered in the glass cases. Instead, she pulled out a chair at one of the small tables and made herself comfortable. Once seated, she checked her phone for local numbers until she found Barrow’s Bites. She entered the number and waited.