Getting Rich (A Chef Landry Mystery) (17 page)

“Not Charles. I refuse to believe that.”

She sighed. “Okay, so maybe it wasn’t Charles, but if that house belonged to Jennifer, it would suggest the woman had money—maybe a lot of money. I can’t help but wonder who inherits her estate.”

I preferred her theory that Jennifer had been the intended victim. I felt an immediate stab of guilt. Poor Jennifer. She didn’t deserve what happened, so unfair. It was just too scary to think somebody was after Toni—or me—or both. What bothered me was her suggestion that Charles might have been involved.

I shook my head again. “There are too many things wrong with that idea. First of all, Jennifer was killed in our restaurant. That is one coincidence too many. I’m not buying it.”

She leaned forward, speaking excitedly. “What I’m saying is, if Jennifer was the intended victim, what better cover than making it look as if her death was a case of mistaken identity?”

I turned this over in my mind. Somebody could make an argument for that.

She continued. “And who knows, maybe the threats and the hit-and-run were all part of the same plot. They might have wanted to turn the attention off the real motive by staging that crazy-lady confrontation and the hit-and-run. Don’t forget, it was Charles who suggested I hire Jennifer to help in the kitchen.”

I stared her in the eyes. “You’re talking about Charles, Toni.
Our Charles.
Do you really think he’s capable of murder?”

She lost her earnestness and became serious. “One thing I’ve learned is that no matter how much we think we know another person, we only ever see what they allow us to see. The truth is we have no idea what really goes on in other people’s minds. How often have you heard people say, even after years of marriage, that their spouses turned out to be complete strangers?” She was talking about herself and Steven again.

I put up my hand. “Stop it. You were there when Charles got the news. The man was devastated. Do you really believe his grief was all an act?”

Her certainty of a moment ago wavered, leaving her looking frightened and confused. She crossed her arms sullenly. “I just want the case to be solved. I want the whole thing to go away. I don’t want to walk around wondering who wants me dead.”

I gave her my best reassuring look. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure it out. But coming up with absurd theories is not going to help.”

She jutted out her chin. “It is not an absurd theory.” I waited. At last she scowled, sighing. “Okay, I admit, I don’t want to believe that somebody is trying to kill me. If that were true, it would mean it’s somebody I know and love.” She counted on her fingers. “That leaves only three people, you, Steven and Judy—unless you suspect my five-year-old niece.” When she put it that way, it did sound ridiculous. It sure as hell wasn’t me. And I would be shocked if it turned out to be Steven or Judy.

She looked at me pleadingly. “Can’t we talk about something else for a while?”

I’d had all I could take of the subject myself. There were a few other things I wanted to discuss, starting with how we’d go about resuscitating our business.

No matter what she’d said earlier, I refused to believe she’d willingly walk away from Skinny’s. But getting her to agree wholeheartedly with a plan to rebuild would demand some finesse. I made a quick list of possible arguments in favor of starting over.

We had so many exciting things to look forward to—the newspaper column for one. What I should not mention was that we didn’t have insurance and that all costs would have to come out of her pocket—not that I planned to keep that from her. But choosing just the right moment to drop that bomb would be crucial.

When it came to money, Toni had her own unique way of deciding what made an investment worthwhile. Once, during those early months when the business kept getting deeper in the red, I had asked if she would mind lending the company a bit more money. She had bluntly refused, giving me a good lesson in the way the rich handled money.

“I didn’t mind contributing the start-up money,” she’d said. “I calculated just how much I was willing to gamble, hoping it would pay off. But the business isn’t taking off the way we’d hoped. And one thing I never, ever do is throw good money after bad.”

I’d been shocked. The amount was small—not to me, but it was less than what she spent monthly on her wardrobe, as I’d pointed out. But she just shook her head, saying that spending on her wardrobe was a good investment, one that brought very nice dividends. The dividends to which she was referring was the plethora of men she was dating at the time.

“Toni,” I said now, deciding the direct approach was best. “We have to come up with a plan to start over again.”

Toni snorted. “And why exactly would we want to do that?” From her tone, I knew this discussion had a very real danger of turning into an argument.

I pulled myself off the sofa and hobbled over to the kitchen. “If I remember correctly, just a few days ago, you were talking about opening a second location. And just around that same time, you were giving me a speech about opportunity coming in different disguises.” I expected a sharp retort but to my surprise, Toni was silent. Was she considering it? I dared hope.

I’d been in the kitchen about ten minutes and during all that time I hadn’t heard a peep out of my friend—stewing, no doubt. While I busied myself, I debated how hard I should push. Toni was notoriously obstinate. She was more likely to turn down a suggestion than to accept it—unless she believed the idea was hers.

When at last Toni appeared in the doorway, I had butter sizzling in the pan and my ingredients measured and lined up on the counter.

She held a cup of coffee in each hand. “You left it in the living room.” She stepped closer. “What’s with all the racket?”

I had been opening and closing cupboard doors and drawers, gathering my cooking utensils and ingredients, and I was already beginning to feel calmer. Whenever I felt most stressed, cooking was my cure of choice. Toni used to joke that she always knew when I was most upset by the amount of baking I did.

“I’m making us something to eat.” I cracked another egg into the bowl and whipped them with milk and a tiny amount of walnut oil. “I liked your Skinny French toast and I’m trying my hand at Skinny pancakes. I don’t know about you but my mind is sharper when my stomach is full.”

“Good idea.” She opened the cupboard and took out two plates. “Come to think of it, I am a bit hungry.”

Funny, I didn’t have to think to know I was hungry. As long as I was breathing, I could eat.

coming after us with a vengeance

Toni set the table. “So, getting back to the restaurant, how, exactly, do you propose we start over again? Are you talking about waiting for our building to be repaired and setting up in the same location, or finding an entirely new place?”

“Waiting for the building to be fixed could take months. I suggest we find a new location.” This was met with a long silence. I finished mixing and measured quarter cups of batter onto the hot griddle, making half a dozen perfect silver-dollar-size pancakes.

At last she said, “So much work. I don’t know if I have the energy.”

“That’s normal. I wouldn’t expect you to feel any other way after all that’s happened. But a few days from now you’ll be seeing things differently.”

“Hey, that’s my speech.”

I flipped over the pancakes. “For one thing, this time around we can do it faster and cheaper. We learned a lot getting ready for our Queen location. Also we’d cover the overhead in no time. We already have an established reputation and clients who will follow us.”

She waved away my arguments. “Speaking of customers, did you call back that lady?”

I picked up the spatula and scooped up the pancakes. “Damn. I completely forgot about her. What’s her name again?”

“Edna Jamieson.”

I put down my spatula. “I still don’t understand why she wants to speak to me. Might as well get it over with. What did I do with her number?”

“Tell me where it is. I’ll get it for you.” She jumped up and disappeared up the stairs, returning a moment later with the piece of paper in hand.

I wiped my hands on a dish towel, and grabbed my home phone from its cradle. I punched in the woman’s number, waited three rings and got a voice message.

“Leave your name and number, and the reason for your call. Thank you.”

I left a brief message and hung up. “At least she’ll know I tried.” I hurried back to the stove and flipped over the second batch of pancakes. “Getting back to business, the first thing we should do is find a new location. Unless you think we should wait and reopen in the same place? The problem with that is that it will take months. All the goodwill we’ve earned will be gone by then.”

“We don’t even know that the owner will want to rebuild—at least not the same commercial-type building. Remember? When we signed the lease he was talking about how he didn’t want to give us a long lease because he was considering tearing it down and putting up condos?”

I did remember vaguely. “All the more reason to start looking. Once we have a place we like, we can send out flyers announcing our new restaurant and the date of our reopening. Then we work like mad to get everything ready on time.”

She smiled at me the way I might at a four-year-old talking about wanting to become an astronaut. “You’re making it sound as if all we have to do is show up for work as usual, the only difference being the location.”

I turned off the burner and wiped my pan clean. “I’m not saying it will be easy, but it wouldn’t be nearly as difficult as it was when we prepared for Skinny’s opening.”

“For your information, finding a new location is the least of our problems. Once we found it, we’d have to fix it up.” Toni carried the food to the table.

We sat down to eat, and I continued my argument. “Don’t forget we have a staff with nothing but time on their hands at the moment.”

Toni dropped a dollop of vanilla yogurt on her pancakes and covered it with blueberries.

“We can keep the guys on payroll and split up the work,” I said. “Give everyone a list of chores to accomplish. With five of us working, we can probably get everything done in a month or so.” I paused. “Make that four of us. I doubt Charles will be up to working for a while.”

Toni took a bite of the pancakes.

“What do you say?” I asked.

“They’re delicious.”

“I was talking about my idea.”

“Oh—good idea,” she said, sounding more bored than interested. “You’re probably right about Charles not being ready to get back to work. Aren’t you afraid to reopen? What if Jennifer’s death really does have to do with the restaurant? We just might make that lunatic even crazier.”

Here it was again, her greatest objection. “Just a minute ago you were saying you thought the whole thing about us stealing the restaurant was just a diversion.” I put on a mocking tone. “We’re too small. We’re too unimportant, except for you of course.”

She rolled her eyes and went right on eating.

I waited a beat and then said, “Right now we don’t know if anybody is after us or not. So, what are we supposed to do? Sit on our asses and wait? Or just give up?” I forked another few pancakes onto my plate and ate in silence for a few minutes. At last I said, “Maybe you’re right. It’s not as if our restaurant was worth very much. All we really had was some old secondhand furniture and a bunch of recipes.”

Surprise registered in her eyes. “You agree with me?”

“Maybe we should just walk away. Saving our business would mean a lot of work—much easier to do nothing. For all we know that crazy woman wasn’t faking and really is behind the whole thing. And if we reopen she might come after us with a vengeance. To hell with Skinny’s on Queen.” I paused for a moment, and then added, “I think I’ll go into catering.” I wondered if I had overdone it.

Her eyes widened. “Catering! Are you crazy?” She hesitated. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to look for a location...just in case. I mean, there’s no point in deciding one way or another until we at least know what’s going on.”

“If that’s what you want to do,” I said unenthusiastically. I grabbed my crutches and left the table to hide my smile.

a whole other perspective on it

Toni cleaned the table and took the dogs for a short walk, while I used the opportunity to call Jake.

He answered on the second ring.

“Are you still at Charles’s?” I asked.

“That’s right,” he said, in a tone that told me Charles was within hearing distance.

“What about Jennifer’s brother and husband? Are they still there?”

“They’re gone.” He sounded relieved.

“By any chance, did Charles happen to mention at what time Jennifer left the house last night?”

“No, why?”

“It’s just something I need to check. Would you mind asking him? It’s important,” I added when he hesitated.

He covered the mouthpiece for a moment and I heard some muffled conversation. “He said it was around twelve.”

“Thank you, Jake. Tell Charles I’m sorry I had to ask.”

I hung up, and still having a few minutes before Toni returned, I considered calling Mitchell. He had asked that I get back to him as soon as I could, but after waiting so long for a call from him, I was reluctant to give in so easily. For a while I’d wondered if Mitchell had completely forgotten about me. Absence was supposed to let the heart grow fonder but for all I knew, he and Bunny were getting along like a house on fire—no pun intended. An image of him kissing a gorgeous blonde popped into my mind again, making me slightly nauseated. I picked up the phone, still hesitating.

The front door opened and closed, killing any hopes of a private conversation. I put the receiver down.

Toni walked in, followed by the pitter-patter of tiny paws. “I am so in love with that little Trouble,” she said, picking him up and planting a kiss on top of his head.

Trouble did not seem to return the sentiment. He struggled to get out of her grasp. At last she returned him to his pen, along with Sugar. She gave them all liver treats and returned to the kitchen.

“By the way, I forgot to mention that Judy heard about the fire on the news. She was so worried, I told her to come over.” She glanced at her watch, “I thought she’d be here by now.”

“No problem,” I said, and told her about my call to Jake. “If you had any more doubt about it, this proves it. Your gun was not the murder weapon. You had already picked it up before Jennifer had even left the house.”

Even though we’d already concluded that it was highly unlikely that her gun had killed Jennifer, she looked as if a load had just been lifted from her shoulders.

We washed the dishes and cleaned the kitchen and, just as we finished, the doorbell rang. “That must be her.” Toni hurried to answer and reappeared a moment later, followed by Judy.

“I am so sorry about the restaurant,” Judy said, looking heartbroken. “The news report said someone was killed in the fire, but I didn’t catch the name. I can’t tell you how scared I was it might be one of you. Thank goodness—” And then, looking mortified, she added, “It’s still tragic of course.”

“It is,” Toni agreed. She poured Judy a cup of coffee and we all settled in the living room.

Judy looked from Toni to me and back again. “Do you think it has anything to do with that crazy woman who made all those threats?”

“At this point we have no idea who’s behind it,” I said. “We don’t even know if the hit-and-run and the fire are related. At the risk of sounding like a conspiracy nut, I think that woman might have been wearing a disguise. And if I’m right about that, it puts a whole other perspective on what’s going on.”

Judy’s eyes widened. “Oh my God.” She seemed to digest this for a few seconds and then said, “That makes it even scarier.”

“Our thoughts exactly,” Toni said. “And you don’t know the worst of it.” She waited a beat for drama. “Jennifer was shot.”

Judy’s mouth dropped. “She didn’t die in the fire?”

Toni shook her head. “Her body was found in the rubble, but she’d been shot. And—” she paused for dramatic effect, “—the police think I was the intended victim.”

Judy’s eyes grew wider. “Was the fire set to try and hide the murder?”

“That’s one possibility,” I said.

“What are you going to do?” Judy asked.

Toni shrugged. “It isn’t as if there’s a lot I can do, short of standing in the street, waiting for whoever it is to come and get me.”

If I didn’t know her better, I might have thought Toni was enjoying this. I gave her the eyebrow. To Judy I said, “Don’t worry. The police are investigating. It’s just a question of time before they catch the killer.” And then I changed the subject. “Before I forget, Toni, one of us should call
The Toronto Daily.
Whether we reopen or not, we have to make sure we don’t lose that column. It’ll be worth a fortune in free advertising no matter what we end up doing.”

She looked at me as if I had rocks in my head. “I don’t see how it could be worth a dime if we decide not to reopen.”

“The food industry is huge,” I said. “Restaurants are only a small percentage of it. There’s catering—”

She grimaced. “Oh for God’s sake, will you forget that idea? Can you imagine me at some function walking around dressed in a little French maid’s outfit?” She glanced from Judy to me. “Don’t answer that.”

I tried to keep a straight face, but it crumpled into a grin. Judy laughed out loud. Even Toni was suppressing giggles. It was a welcome moment of lightheartedness.

Toni regained her composure. “Come on, be serious. Catering is the last thing I’d want to do—long days and even longer nights. We’d be on our feet eighteen hours a day.”

“Sometimes it feels like that already,” I said, still chuckling, “but I happen to agree with you. I’m just giving catering as one example. Then there’s also the gourmet-meal pick-up or delivery service.”

Judy said, “Oh, I love those. There’s one place in Ottawa where I go all the time.”

Toni nodded unenthusiastically. “I like that idea better.”

“Or, we could give skinny-cooking classes—teach people what kind of ingredients they can use to replace the high fat and sugar in their regular recipes.”

“That’s a great idea,” Judy said. “I’d sign up for something like that.”

Toni shook her head. “There’s no money in teaching. What else.”

“We could...” I snapped my fingers. “We could start a line of frozen diet meals. Or write diet cookbooks.”

Toni got a dreamy look in her eyes. “Written by Toni Lawford and Nicky Landry,” she said, underlining the imaginary line with her hands. “I’d be an author.”

“Don’t go shopping for your book-tour wardrobe until we’ve at least written the first page,” I said, stifling a laugh. “Those are just off the top of my head. There are countless other things we could do.”

“You’re right,” she said, showing some interest at last. “There are lots of opportunities. You know, maybe reopening wouldn’t be the best thing to do. We could think of something so much more exciting that operating a restaurant.”

Uh-oh. I’d gone a bit too far with my sales pitch. I had to do some backtracking, and fast. “I still think our best bet is to reopen our restaurant. Even if we did eventually decide to expand into other areas, Skinny’s could remain the parent company. I think your idea of finding a decent location before making a decision is a good one.”

Toni hesitated and looked at Judy, but her sister kept silent, leaving the discussion to us.

At least Toni hadn’t given me an outright no. But if I wanted her cooperation, I would have to let her choose the location—or at least make her believe it was her choice, otherwise my friend was likely to dig in her four-inch heels.

“It wouldn’t hurt to look,” Judy said. I could have kissed her.

Toni shrugged. “I suppose you’re right.” She retrieved my laptop from my bedroom and set it on the dining room table. I sat, and Judy drew up a chair and settled next to me, sharing the laptop.

Toni pulled out her iPhone. “Looking for a new location when we still don’t know who’s behind the hit-and-run and Jennifer’s death makes me nervous.”

“It would make me nervous too,” Judy said. “But you can’t put your life on hold until the police figure out what’s going on.” I was liking this woman more and more. “Let’s make a list of what you’re looking for, everything the space absolutely must have.”

“Good idea,” I said. We both turned to Toni, waiting until, after a long pause, she nodded.

We threw around some ideas and decided the most important was to find a commercial space that was already set up as a restaurant. Not having too many renovations would save us a bundle. The next “must” on the list was that the location be as close to downtown as possible. Last, the square footage should be larger than what we had on Queen, but still be small enough to feel cozy. Anything more would be a bonus.

“Why don’t you do the real estate listings, while I do the online classifieds?” I said.

“Good idea,” Toni said.

After a few more cups of coffee, we had a list of a dozen places that answered our criteria.

“Why don’t we go over what we have so far and eliminate all the listings we don’t like.”

We reviewed them, discarding some spaces as too big, another as small and too out of the way, and a couple as too expensive. By midafternoon we had narrowed the possibilities down to eight. We split the list down the middle. While I went to check on the dogs again, Judy and Toni started making calls, contacting the leasing agents for the more information. In the end we had a total of three commercial spaces worth seeing.

I looked over the printout. “If none of these works out, we’ll make a new list tomorrow.”

Judy looked from me to Toni. “Are you going to look at those places right now?”

Toni nodded. “We might as well drive by before we book appointments.”

I was about to plead fatigue and ask to postpone this until the morning, when Judy said, “I’d love to come along, but I’d better get back before Richard goes stir crazy.”

Toni threw me a look that said, “See what I mean?” To Judy she said, “Too bad. I’d like your input.”

“Why don’t we reconvene tomorrow morning?” I suggested. “That way Judy can join us.”

“You wouldn’t mind waiting until I can go with you?” Judy asked.

“Sure,” she said.

“What time?”

“Let’s make it early...say...ten?” Toni said.

“Ten?” Judy looked startled. “I was afraid you’d say seven. Sure, ten is fine.”

I laughed. “Ten is the crack of dawn for Toni.”

Judy went to the front, returning with her coat. “By the way, I know we said we’d have dinner tonight but after what you’ve been through, I think we should reschedule.”

I could tell from the look on Toni’s face that she’d completely forgotten about her dinner date.

“Tomorrow works for me,” she said.

“Great. I can’t wait for you to meet Richard. He’s going to love you,” Judy said. She looked at me. “Why don’t you join us? I’d love you to meet Richard too.”

“I’d be happy to,” I said.

Toni jumped to her feet. “Hold off a second. I’m leaving too, so I might as well give you a lift back to the hotel.”

Soon they were both gone and, except for the dogs, I had the house to myself. I made myself a quick sandwich, eyeing a cherry pie in the freezer. I let the dogs out and then climbed up the stairs and curled up on my bed for a nap.

I’d intended on no more than a half hour snooze, just enough to keep myself going until bedtime, but when I next opened my eyes, it was dark. I glanced at my bedside clock—eight o’clock. I threw off the covers. Damn. I’d been sleeping for nearly four hours. Now I’d probably toss and turn all night and I’d feel like hell again all day tomorrow.

I went downstairs and pulled out the cherry pie I’d salivated over earlier. I popped it in the oven. Forty minutes later I’d just finished my second piece and was squashing major guilt when the phone rang. I glanced at the call display—Mitchell. My heart did a happy dance.

“Thank God I finally got you,” he said. “I was going crazy trying to reach you.”

“You were worried?”

“Yes. Didn’t you get my message? I called you back this morning. I must have tried your cell a dozen times, but it kept going to voice mail. And then when I finally hear from you, I find out you were in the hospital, hit by a car. What happened? Are you all right?”

All the insecurity I’d been suffering over the past few days faded away. “I’m okay, don’t worry.”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“Sorry about that. I thought Toni was going to call you, but after everything that happened it just slipped my mind.” I wasn’t trying to sound distant, but I wouldn’t mind him getting just a little bit jealous. “But, as Toni pointed out, there is a bright side to all this.”

“I can’t imagine what that would be.”

“Men are swarming around me, trying to be helpful. They’re opening doors, helping me in and out of cabs, carrying my parcels. I’ve never had so much attention in my life.” Okay, I was exaggerating, but I wasn’t about to admit that the only time a man had rushed to my help was when Toni happened to be standing next to me.

I heard his smile in his next words. “As long as nobody is helping you out of your clothes. I’d have to come back and shoot them.”