He hugged me a little tighter. “Sorry, darling. I’m used to you wanting more information, not less.”
“I’m rethinking my position on that.” I appreciated that he was trying to keep me in the crime scene loop, but Kevin’s description had creeped me out thoroughly. No wonder she went tearing out of here.
Strangely enough, I’d recently been involved in another murder by poisoning. If things kept going like this, I was going to need a follow-up therapy session with Guru Bob.
Thinking of Guru Bob reminded me of something else. While I might’ve been grossed out by the thought of Monty dying in such a horrible way, this wasn’t about me. No, this was all about poor Monty, big, brawny, fun-loving Monty, who didn’t have an enemy in the world until last night. Somebody had killed him brutally, painfully, willfully. And I vowed to go to any lengths necessary to bring that cold-blooded killer to justice.
I also had to find a way to wrap this up quickly. With two chefs murdered now, I was more worried than ever about Savannah. What if she had inadvertently seen something? Or heard something? She might be oblivious to whatever it was, but if a killer thought she was a threat, he’d stop her as Monty had been stopped.
Oh, God.
Just the thought of how Monty had died turned my stomach, but I had to stay strong. Not just for him, but for my sister and the other chefs who were my friends.
“I’m going back to the kitchen to talk to the police,” Derek said, snapping me out of my short mind trip. “Will you be all right out here with your sister?”
It was official. Derek thought I was a wimp. Damn. I was not a wimp. Okay, I never did too well around blood. And I hated this “gift” of finding dead bodies. But I wouldn’t run and hide. Never had, never would. (Despite how much the craven part of me might want to!)
After a few head-clearing breaths, I said, “I’ll stay here, but only because they won’t tell you anything if I’m with you. But I’m going to want to know what happened, okay? I was just a little woozy there for a minute after Kevin and I talked. I’m fine now.”
He lifted my chin, studied my eyes, and then nodded. “You are absolutely more than fine, my love. I promise to tell you everything, even if it’s not pleasant.”
“Thank you.” And it wouldn’t be pleasant, I thought, as I watched him cross the room and disappear down the hall.
Chapter Seventeen
Rub all things with butter.
—The Cookbook of Obedience Green
I noted at least one glaring difference between the aftermath of Baxter’s death and that of Montgomery’s: the amount of tears that people shed. With Baxter, there were a few sad moments when the chefs first heard the news. But with Monty, everyone was overwhelmed with grief and it didn’t seem to be subsiding.
Oh, there was plenty of laughter when someone recalled a funny line of his or some melodramatic rant he’d taken off on. But then people would stop and remember and dissolve into tears all over again.
I didn’t think I could take much more of it, mainly because I was a sympathetic weeper. Within minutes of arriving, my eyes were drenched and it was a pretty good bet they would stay that way for as long as I remained with the other mourners. Of course, there was no way I could leave, not while Derek was still back there talking to the police. And I wasn’t about to go without Savannah. She was a mess. I was pleased to see that Dalton had remained at her side. I could’ve hugged him for that.
So I stayed where I was and occupied my time by watching everyone else. Looking for a clue. Any clue. Because a stone-cold murderer might not stop at just two deaths.
I thought I had gotten to know these people, but I didn’t know them so well, after all. If one of them was wearing a mask, it was going to be difficult to see past it.
Colette and Margot huddled together in a quiet corner, and every few minutes one of them would hiccup or sniffle or melt into another round of tears.
Margot had already contacted Monty’s boyfriend, who agreed to call his restaurant manager and his parents. That was a thankless task and I was glad I didn’t have to do it.
I was worried what would happen when the press and the paparazzi got wind that another chef had been killed. But I refused to dwell on those ugly details right then.