“Then it wasn’t truly blackmail,” Dalton reasoned.
But Derek shook his head. “I can’t agree. I think this was the reason he was being blackmailed. Perhaps a few folks back home knew the truth, but if Baxter was threatening to tell the whole world of his kleptomania, Peter would have felt he had no choice but to pay him off. I can’t imagine you’d want the clientele of your five-star restaurant to know that the chef might be pilfering their pocketbooks while they were dining.”
“Oh. Well. I suppose, since you put it that way. No chef would want that,” Kevin mused.
“Kevin,” I said, “do you think Peter and Margot and Montgomery were the only ones being blackmailed?”
“I have no idea. He wasn’t blackmailing me, I can tell you that much. I would’ve kicked him in the…well, you know.”
“Yes, we know where you’d have kicked him,” I said, swallowing a laugh.
She bared her teeth in a grim smile. “And I’d have handed him his bollocks stewed in sauce.”
There was a moment of bemused silence.
“You always were a creative chef,” Savannah said finally, as Dalton squirmed uneasily in his chair.
*
Later that afternoon, Derek and I were lounging in the living room when Inspector Jaglom called back to let us know that the police had just sent Peter home. Jaglom confirmed that they had received a call about Baxter blackmailing a number of chefs. He assured Derek that the cops would be questioning the other two chefs who’d admitted to being extorted.
As soon as they ended the call, Derek related the rest of the conversation to me.
“Did he tell you who called in the tip?” I asked.
“It was anonymous.”
“Damn.” I jumped up and paced back and forth along the couch. “Did you ask if it was a man or a woman?”
“Yes, love,” he said. “They think it was a woman.”
“They think?”
“That’s about the same tone I took with Nathan,” Derek said, his lips quirking up.
“Well, what did he say?”
“He said they’ll analyze the tape if it becomes an issue.”
I was pretty sure my eyeballs were rolling like whirlybirds. “If it becomes an issue? It’s an issue!”
“Yes, love,” he said, chuckling at my righteous ire, and reached out and grabbed me, pulling me down on the couch next to him. “I convinced him of that.”
“Good.” I leaned against him and rested my head on his strong shoulder. My poor brain was racing with too many questions and not enough answers. “Thank you. I should get up and call Kevin to let her know, but I’m too comfortable to move.”
“Then stay here.” He wrapped his arm around me. “And Peter’s probably called her already.”
“Oh, good thought.” I sighed and cuddled up to him. “Do you like them?”
“I presume you’re referring to Kevin and Peter. I do like them.”
“I do, too.” I glanced up at him. “I always have. And I hate seeing them so worried. I was thinking maybe we could invite them over for dinner sometime this week. Of course, she’s a chef, so I wouldn’t dream of actually cooking for her. But we could order in Thai food or something.”
“Something.” Derek grinned.
“Kevin was really nice to me in Paris. I just hope she and Peter get back together.”
“Kevin is charming,” he agreed.
I frowned at him. “I’m hearing a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”
“You’ve got good ears.” He turned and faced me. “But I’m frankly worried that someone you consider a friend might be unmasked as a murderer.”
My mouth dropped open. “You think Kevin killed Baxter?”
“No, I honestly don’t,” he insisted, though his thoughtful scowl told me there was more coming. “But we’ve been wrong before about such things, haven’t we?”
Frowning, I stared at my hands. We had been wrong before, damn it, and I really didn’t want to be wrong this time. I really needed a manicure, I thought absently. Working with paper made my nails so darn dry.
“Darling?”
“I’m thinking,” I replied grumpily. I knew what Derek was talking about. Last year, I’d met a really nice woman while on a job, and we became fast friends. I invited her into my home and introduced her to my family, only to find out much later that I was being used as a pawn in a clever killer’s game. It wasn’t a good feeling and I never wanted to go through anything like that again.
“But this is a different situation,” I claimed, determined to let the past go as we worked toward a solution to the present problems. “I’ve known Kevin for years. She’s one of Savannah’s dearest friends and she was very good to me when I was in Paris. And there’s Peter, too. We’ve known him a long time.”
“I see.” He nodded soberly. “So in a way, you’re saying they’ve been vetted.”
I smiled. “Exactly.”
“All right, I’ll go along with that. The fact is, I like them both, too. So we’ll hope for the best and proceed apace.”