The Seven-Course Christmas Killer: A Holiday Novella from the Italian Kitchen (An Italian Kitchen Mystery) by Rosie Genova

Author:Rosie Genova [Genova, Rosie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Jersey Shore, holiday, Italian tradition, small town, family
Publisher: Beyond the Page
Published: 2016-11-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six

Linguini ai Fruitti de Mare

“One for every course,” Sofia said. “Who’d we miss?”

“Brad Schultz.”

She frowned. “But he’s not on the meeting list.”

“That’s what I thought. Until I looked at the original document again. When I copied over the list of attendees, I neglected to include the person taking the minutes—Brad Schultz. He was there, Sofe. And he’s here tonight.”

“But you told me he tried to catch her when she fell.”

“He did. And his concern seemed genuine. But think about this: He’s her right-hand man. He would know where she lives. He was at the meeting when she found the glass in her salad. Who better to go in and out of her conference room and office without suspicion?”

Sofia grabbed my arm. “And—he could’ve had access to her car keys. Or known where she kept a spare.”

“And he would know her movements and her routine. When she would and wouldn’t be home, so he could tamper with that plant and the car,” I said excitedly.

“But there’s one thing missing, Vic—”

“Motive,” I said. “At least that we know of.”

“Even if he’s got one, there are things that don’t make sense.” Sofia shook her head. “Why would he save her?”

I shrugged. “To get in good with her? Throw off suspicion? In any case, these are the acts of a sick person. An unpredictable person. And I’m terrified he—or she—might really hurt somebody before this night is over.”

“Anne?”

“Or someone else. Somebody who gets in his way.”

“Did you ever think, Vic, that if it is Brad, maybe he doesn’t intend to actually hurt her? It’s possible he’s just trying to scare her or make her think she’s crazy.”

“Again—why?” I took a quick glance around and lowered my voice. “And what about my missing knife?”

“Maybe someone moved it?”

“It’s possible but—” I shook my head. Again there was that sensation—a tiny signal that there was some detail tucked away in my brain that just wouldn’t come to the surface. “You know what,” I said. “I’d rather not call attention to it. For now, we have to keep this between us.”

“And we don’t even have Danny for backup.”

“So you were getting cold feet, too?”

She nodded. “That missing knife made it all real.”

“It sure did. And I’ll tell you something else—if things get dicey, you and my niece-nephew are out of here.”

“Promise,” she said, holding up her hand. “But not before the pasta course. I’m going to try to chat up Brad Schultz. Maybe get a sense of where he was in November.”

Back at the table, I ate sparingly while my sister-in-law cleared her plate. Each time I looked up, Anne was giving me the fish eye. So to speak. When I excused myself to use the ladies’ room, she was right behind me.

“We have to stop meeting like this,” I said.

“How can you joke? Do you have any idea what this is like for me?” she asked, her face dark and angry.

“I’m sorry,” I sighed. “But I’m tense enough without you tracking me all over the restaurant. By the way, Jeff Kuchinski could not have walked up your driveway back in November.

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