DEAD....If Only (The Alvarez Family Murder Mysteries Book 4) by Haven Heather

Author:Haven, Heather [Haven, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: The Wives of Bath Press
Published: 2014-10-13T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nineteen

It’s All In How You Present Yourself

“Are you ready, Tío?”

I adjusted the white Dodin cap on my head, which looked like one of those upside-down paper cups you put inside a cupcake-baking pan, only bigger. That and my pristine, white jacket were perfect. My outfit had been obtained courtesy of Tío’s pal, Slavio, from the hospital’s kitchen after a fast call. I also wore my reading glasses as a bit of a disguise, even though they made me squint.

“Now just follow my lead.”

I looked over at my uncle. Tall and elegant, he was also dressed in one of his own spiffy white chef uniforms, minus the toque. That would have been overkill. He did, however, bring along his chef knives. No chef worth his or her salt travels without them. They were encased in his black canvas eighteen-piece knife case, complete with a full accessory compartment.

Experience has taught me that in the game of pretend, wearing the right costume goes a long way to making whomever believe whatever it is you want them to believe. Standing before the double-doors of the Samuel Randolph mansion was a master chef and his sous-chef applying for the recently advertised position.

It had taken everything I had or could think of to talk the family into doing this. By seven-thirty we were set. The Étouffée had been set on a back burner for consumption when we returned later.

The rain still fell, but it was completely dark, save any light coming from the porch and landscaping. I didn’t hear a dog, but figured it was off duty and in its doghouse, trying to stay dry. I lowered the mammoth umbrella I held over us and dropped it into the outdoor umbrella stand when one of the doors swung open. A gaunt-looking man in his early thirties and dressed completely in black, stared at us in outright disbelief as we stood there in all our sparkling white beauty.

“What the…” His jaw dropped open and he froze in place, the door half opened.

“Good evening.” I all but chirped. “My name is Margaret Lee. Please allow me to introduce to you Chef Manuel Rodriguez.”

I thrust a lengthy résumé into one of his hands, printed out by Richard from online, very impressive in its looks and content. My uncle stood silently beside me with a noble but grim look on his face. I prattled on with a big smile.

“We are here for the eight p.m. interview with Mr. Randolph for the position of private chef to the household. I’m Chef Manuel’s interpreter, as well as his sous-chef. While he is the chef extraordinaire, as I’m sure you know from having read articles about him, he --”

“Well, no, no. I hadn’t. I haven’t read…” The man stuttered, but continued to gape. “What?”

“Chef Manuel’s English skills are not on the same level as his cooking, so he relies upon me totally.” I went on.

“Si,” Tío put in, pointing to himself. “Solamente Español.”

“What?” Completely thrown, the man looked down at the resume then around him, as if hoping to conjure up someone who knew what was going on.

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