Murder After a Fashion by Grace Carroll

Author:Grace Carroll
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
ISBN: 9781101623831
Publisher: Berkley Prime Crime
Published: 2013-06-03T21:00:00+00:00

I sat down on the edge of my bed and fished out the paper I’d found at the restaurant. It said, “I have to talk to you.” I turned it over and over. No signature. If it had come from the bartender, how had Jack known that? And what had he said when they got together? Damn Jack for not confiding in me after all I’d done for him, including setting myself on fire. Kissing was fine, more than fine. But as usual, I wanted more.

Now what?

Naturally Dolce wanted to know how it went with Jack. I told her we’d accomplished what we set out to do.

“You got to know each other better?” she asked anxiously as she stopped pushing a wheeled rack of coats from the hall to the great room.

“I’m not sure about that,” I said. “But we did get to meet Eduardo, the chef who is Guido’s brother, thanks to my setting my shawl on fire. Otherwise I don’t think he would have come out of the kitchen.”

That information caused Dolce to sit down on a velvet chaise and fan her face. “I hope Detective Wall appreciated your gesture.”

“Hard to tell with him,” I said, feeling my face heat up with the memory of his kisses. “But Eduardo said he was at work the night of the murder and at work the day of the funeral. So there we are. Nowhere. Unless…”

“It’s true that chefs work long hours,” Dolce said.

“Isn’t it true that they take breaks also?” I asked. “Step outside for a cigarette or a quick trip across town to knock off a rival? And who would notice?”

“You’re letting your imagination run away with you,” Dolce said.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” I said. “The strangest thing was that Jack kept asking me about Diana Van Sloat. When I’d only just met her at the funeral.”

Dolce frowned. “Funny you should say that. She just called me and said the police want to talk to her again. I assured her all of our customers were being questioned so she wouldn’t worry, but of course they aren’t.”

“I don’t understand,” I said. “What’s the reason they’re focusing on her all of a sudden?”

“I told her you might be able to find out.”

“I wish I could. Sometimes I think Jack tells me less than he would if we, if I…”

“If you two weren’t romantically linked?” she asked.

I nodded.

“I just don’t want any other customers to hear she’s a…whatever she is,” Dolce said.

She didn’t want to say “suspect,” or “person of interest,” but what else could we think? Of all the suspicious people at the funeral with their various motives to kill Guido, Diana was the last person I’d ever question. What was wrong with Jack?

“This may be off the subject,” Dolce said after a long silence, “but I have to ask. Which of the three men—the detective, the Romanian or the doctor—do you prefer?”

I was relieved she’d focused on me for a change, and not on the murder. “As if I had a choice,” I said.

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