Murder for the Halibut (12 page)

Hearing Victor call out to them, Thomas turned to face the pool. Dressed in tight-fitting
trunks that only emphasized his overlapping belly, the man froze when he recognized
Victor and the others.

“What’s Casey Washington doing getting up close and personal with Thomas Collingsworth?
Isn’t he married?” Emily asked.

Not only was Collingsworth married, his wife had just had their first child. He’d
even missed the fishing trip so he could stay in Texas to be with her.

How much sleazier could he get?

Guess he’d decided if the cat’s away…

Jordan continued to stare, her mind racing with the implications. Something was clearly
going on between Casey and Thomas Collingsworth, but was it just an affair? Could
the cheating jerk also be involved in whatever had triggered Casey and Marsha’s trip
to the kitchen before the competition?

She gasped, suddenly remembering that Thomas Collingsworth was the only one who had
known about Stefano’s allergy to peanuts.

Yet he hadn’t said a word last night when Stefano was fighting for his life and taking
his last breath.

The theater was already near standing-room-only capacity when Jordan and Rosie walked
in. There must have been close to three thousand people in attendance, anxiously awaiting
the first round of the cook-off competition. On stage, a five-man band had the crowd
on its feet and clapping in time to “Margaritaville,” sung by a guy Jordan recognized
as the cute Croatian waiter from Rosie’s restaurant. She thought about what she’d
do if her job required multitasking like the ship’s crew, but she came up empty. Carrying
a tune was not one of her talents and was restricted to the shower and an occasional
karaoke bar. And even then only after everyone was well on their way to a good buzz.

Now, if they needed a really good quarterback…

“Over here,” Victor called from the front row.

Both Jordan and Rosie scrambled over to where Victor
and Lola had saved every seat on the front row of the section to the right of the
stage. Ray and his new best friend, Goose, arrived at the same time as the women and
settled next to Lola.

“So what are they cooking tonight?” Ray asked.

“Appetizers,” Jordan responded, wrinkling her nose. “And I have a pretty good hunch
it won’t be jalapeño poppers or a bloomin’ onion. I hope I can get through tonight
without making a complete idiot of myself.”

Rosie patted her arm before ungracefully plopping into the seat next to Victor. “Here’s
what to do, honey. Make sure you keep the napkin on your lap at all times. Take the
smallest bite you can get away with and slide it to the side of your mouth by your
molars. Then smile sweetly and give it a fake chew. When no one is looking, wipe your
mouth and spit it out.”

Jordan sighed. “But how can I judge anything if I do that?”

“Oh, please,” Victor interjected. “Do you really think anybody’s counting on your
gourmet critique? Or Beau’s, for that matter?” He shook his head. “Seriously? A fudge
maker and a clueless cook with her own column?”

Rosie playfully slapped his arm. “You have such a way with words, you moron.” She
studied Jordan’s face, concern in her eyes.

But Jordan was giggling. She loved Victor and his filterless opinions.

“I was only trying to make her feel better,” he said defensively. “With the legendary
George Christakis up there tasting the food, nobody gives a hoot about anyone else’s
opinion. If Georgie says it’s good, it’s good.” He pointed at the steps where the
world-renowned chef was
making his way onto the stage. “He’s like the Brett Favre of gourmet cooking—even
makes an appearance on
The Biggest Loser
every season.”

“I didn’t know you watched that show, Victor,” Lola said, leaning around him to wave
to Jordan and Rosie. “It’s one of my favorites.”

Victor’s eyes lit up. “I love that show, although Michael says everyone could lose
weight if the only thing they did all day was exercise and eat ground turkey.”

“He’s right,” Lola replied. “But it’s more than that. The contestants work through
their self-esteem issues, and they learn how to make healthier choices.”

“Jordan!”

Hearing her name, Jordan peered up at the stage and saw Michael peeking out from the
edge of the curtain. He motioned for her to come up.

“Gotta go,” she said, rising from the seat with a sigh. It would be so much more fun
if she could watch the competition with her friends, but this cruise didn’t come cheap,
and she had to earn her keep.

As she walked up the steps, the band finished up and the crowd roared its approval.
She reached for the curtain, which was even more gorgeous up close. The rich, red
velvety material with vertical strands of gold thread weaved throughout sparkled under
the overhead theatrical lights. She was positive it must have cost a pretty penny,
just like everything else on the ship.

It wasn’t called the
Carnation Queen
for nothing and sported some of the most gorgeous furnishings she’d ever seen. And
even though she was hired help, so far, she’d been treated like royalty by every one
of the crew members, who hailed from countries all over the world.

“Hurry up,” Michael called out when she squeezed behind the curtain.

Catching her breath after her first glimpse of the stage, she took a moment to study
it further. Just like the night of the elimination round, it had been transformed
into a gigantic kitchen for the competition. Eight coolers surrounded a huge table
overflowing with vegetables and fruits. Another table was lined with spices, liquors,
and eight bags of marshmallows. Visions of gourmet s’mores popped into her head, which
immediately lifted her spirits. Maybe she could get through this, after all.

“What’s with the grin?” Michael asked, taking hold of her arm and leading her over
to the judges’ table where George Christakis and Beau were already seated.

“I’m thinking this could turn out to be fun,” she admitted, now picturing herself
dipping a hunk of banana into Rosie’s Amaretto Fruit Dip with the creamy marshmallows.

When they approached, Christakis gave her a tiny salute. Beau, who looked like he
could have passed as the poster child for the popular Texas saying “Rode hard and
put away wet,” didn’t even bother to glance up.

I’ve been crossed off his hanky-panky list
, Jordan thought.
What a shame.

Taking her seat between the two men, she wondered if the sweets maker felt as bad
as he looked. She seriously hoped he did. She’d never liked cheating men, no matter
how much chocolate came with the deal. When Beau raised his head and a soft groan
escaped his lips, she smiled to herself, confident he had a huge headache to go with
the rest of his hangover.

The five chefs were walking onto the stage and making
their way to their cooking stations, which consisted of a double electric stovetop.
Overhead mirrors above each station would allow the audience to watch every step of
the food preparation. On the way to his station in the back, Thomas lightly touched
Casey’s shoulder and was rewarded with a half smile. If Jordan hadn’t already suspected
something was going on between the two of them, she would have dismissed it as an
innocent exchange between competitors.

But Jordan knew it was more than that and squinted across the stage to roll her eyes
at Michael, who had heard the story of the two chefs walking hand in hand around the
pool from Victor and responded with a nod. Her attention was quickly diverted when
Emily walked onto the stage, dressed in a bright yellow sleeveless dress that showed
off every curve to perfection.

And she had a lot of them.

“Get ready, folks. The curtain’s going up in five minutes.” She waved to Jordan and
mouthed,
See you later?

Jordan nodded. As much as she wanted to hate the woman for looking the way she did,
she couldn’t. Poolside, Emily had confided she didn’t make friends easily—had blamed
it on working too many hours. Jordan had been flattered when Emily made it clear she’d
like to get to know her better. Although Jordan loved the Empire Apartments gang like
her own family, it would be nice to have a girlfriend her own age aboard.

Microphone in hand, Michael walked to the center of the stage to address the crowd.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it’s time to begin the appetizer round of the Caribbean Cook-Off.
At the end of the cruise, one of these five chefs will walk away with a contract worth
a half million
dollars as the spokesperson for Classic Cuisine, Inc. Join me in welcoming our sponsors,
Emily Thorpe, owner and CEO of Entertainment and Talent Incorporated in New York,
and Wayne Francis, owner and manager of KTLK, the best talk radio station south of
the Red River.”

The crowd went crazy as the curtain was raised, and for a moment, Jordan imagined
herself at Cowboys Stadium right after the national anthem. She let her anxieties
slip away with the excitement, deciding to go with the flow. But just in case things
got dicey, she reached for her napkin and placed it in her lap per Rosie’s instructions.
A girl had to be prepared for the worst.

“Welcome, everyone,” Emily began when the crowd finally quieted down. “With tonight’s
competition the hunt is officially on for the best chef among these five worthy competitors
who were handpicked from all over the state of Texas. We’re so glad you chose to stay
with us after the unfortunate incident last night. We promise you won’t be sorry you
did. Now, let’s get on with tonight’s competition featuring appetizers.” She paused,
turning slightly as the crowd acknowledged the chefs with another rousing round of
applause.

“Before we get started, I’d like to introduce you again to our chefs and give you
a little background on each,” she said when the noise died down.

For the next ten minutes Emily reintroduced the competitors to the crowd; then she
waved her arm toward the judges’ table. “Now, let’s meet the three people with the
difficult job of picking the best chef. Please give a warm
Carnation Queen
welcome to my friend and celebrity chef, George Christakis.”

For what seemed like a good five minutes, the
audience showed their appreciation. Beau and Jordan were introduced to a shorter but
no less enthusiastic welcome.

Moving back to the front, Emily walked over to Casey’s station. “Tonight, our chefs
will be preparing an appetizer of their choice within a thirty-minute time limit.
Along with their favorite main ingredients, each will be provided with a basket with
four ingredients that they must include in their dish.” She opened the basket and
pulled out a jalapeño pepper and a bottle of cayenne pepper. “Being from Texas, you
all know, the spicier the better,” she explained.

Reaching in again, she came out with a small bottle of honey and a huge mango. “As
I mentioned, every one of these four items must be included in the dish. So, without
further ado, let’s get started.” She raised her arm in the air and brought it down
as a signal to the person operating the overhead countdown clock. “Chefs, get ready.
Start cooking now.”

The stage erupted in activity as the contestants ran back and forth between the tables
in the back and their workstations, gathering their ingredients. For the next half
hour, the aroma of cooking food permeated the entire theater. Jordan took the time
to chat with George Christakis, deciding she liked the man, who seemed utterly indifferent
to his own celebrity status. She discovered he had a partner and a school-age son
back in New York and was a huge Giants fan. Despite that last fact—the Giants were
one of the biggest competitors of her beloved Cowboys—she greatly enjoyed the chat.

Finally, the overhead clock signaled time was up, and the chefs stepped away from
their stations, hands in the
air to show they had stopped cooking, finished or not. Emily had been moving from
station to station and chatting with the contestants about their dishes the entire
time. Now she announced that each chef would explain their entry to the judges and
then wait for the critique and the score.

Jordan swallowed hard and looked out to her friends for courage. Seeing Rosie giving
her a thumbs-up helped a little. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She
was about to find out what kind of acting skills she possessed.

She said a quick prayer to Saint Jude, the patron saint of hopeless cases, just in
case she came up short.