“Thank you.”
“Now I can’t promise to clear your sister’s name, but I do pledge to crack the code.”
I was glad to hear it. The whole idea of finding a secret code in a cookbook was intriguing enough to have my natural nosiness kicked into high gear. Of course, it would probably turn out to be some meaningless recipe tips, but the fact that Dalton was intrigued enough to give it a try made me happy.
“I’ll be working in here,” I said, glancing around my workshop. “But it’s fine with me if you’d like to use this desk. It’s a little roomier than Derek’s desk in the bedroom. But the bedroom will be quieter, if that’s what you’d prefer.”
“Thanks.” He pushed away from the table and gave me a wink. “I’ll see how I feel in the morning after a short run. By the way, did you know you live a mere six blocks from a Major League Baseball stadium?”
“Yes,” I replied with a laugh. “That was a major selling point for this place as far as my father was concerned.”
“I agree completely. I’d love to catch a ball game there sometime,” he added wistfully. “I’ll bet you can see the Bay from the seats.”
“You can, and you’re welcome to come back for a ball game anytime,” I said, smiling up at him.
“We’ll see about that. Now I’m off to get a cooking lesson.”
I just had a thought. “You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”
“Lord, no. I was just joking about getting a lesson. My real job title tonight is apprentice sous chef.”
“Lucky you,” I said, as I cleared away the last of the tools from my worktable.
“I think so. Can’t wait to try Savannah’s cooking.”
A wry voice in my mind whispered that her cooking was the only thing he hadn’t sampled yet. “You won’t be disappointed.”
“Absolutely not.” His lips twitched. “I’m pathetically grateful to anyone who’s willing to cook me dinner.”
Ah, something we had in common. Dalton really was charming.
“I know what you mean,” I said with a short laugh.
“I’ll admit to you, it’s not just the food I’m grateful for. It’s the chef.” He shrugged a little and his smile turned tender. “’Tis Savannah, after all. I won’t be disappointed.”
*
The next morning I walked Derek out to the front door. “You’ll swing by and pick me up tonight?”
He leaned in for a slow kiss that gave me a bigger jolt than my first cup of coffee. “I’ll call you as I’m leaving the office, but I expect to be here by seven. I’m looking forward to another gastronomic feast.”
“Me, too.” I patted my stomach. “But you’ll be sorry. I’ll need a new wardrobe by the time the chefs leave town.”
He snaked his arm around my waist and yanked me up against him. “I’m mad about the way you look. Never worry about that. Every part of you is perfect.”
I smiled, delighted. “And I love you. Have I told you lately?”
“Not enough,” he said, his blue eyes twinkling with laughter. “But I’ve scheduled a full week next month to give you time to have your way with me.”
“Only a week? It won’t be nearly enough time.”
“We’ll make do with what we have.”
I reached up and cupped his face in my palms. Honestly, what had I ever done to deserve this amazing man being in love with me? “Why wait? Kiss me, please? And I’ll tell you now.”
He did, several times, and grinned as he left. From my doorway, I watched him walk down the hall to the elevator, where his cell phone began to ring. He answered the call and almost instantly his smiling features went hard and flat. A twist of nerves flared in the pit of my stomach. I continued to watch as his body grew more tense. When he looked back at me and scowled, I ran down the hall to him. He slipped his free arm around me and held tight. What in the world was going on?
Finally, he said, “We’ll be right there.”
“Who was that?” I demanded immediately when he hung up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”
His lips compressed in frustration and anger. “It was Peter.” His arm tightened around me and I knew it would be bad. Still, when he spoke again, I couldn’t believe it.
“He and Kevin arrived at Baxter’s restaurant early to help prepare for dinner and they found Montgomery. He’s dead.”
*
Savannah was inconsolable and I couldn’t blame her. I shed plenty of tears myself, and I had barely gotten to know Monty over the past week. But he was such a lovely, giant panda bear of a man, so funny, sweet, and mischievous in all the best ways. How could anyone who’d ever met him help but love him?
As it turned out, though, there was someone who hadn’t loved Montgomery at all. And I had no doubt that it was the same person who had killed Baxter. Perhaps Monty had figured out who the killer was and confronted him or her. If he had, there was no way the killer could have allowed Monty to live.