A Cookbook Conspiracy

“No, because I didn’t have the money to pay him.”

 

 

“Oh.” Good point. I kept a close eye on that sharp knife in her shaky hand. “Why did he want to blackmail you?”

 

“Why would I tell you?”

 

“Because any minute now Raoul is going to walk back in here and wonder what in the world you’re doing pointing that dangerous knife at me.”

 

“Oh, God,” she moaned, and dropped the knife. It fell to the counter with a loud thud.

 

I let go of the breath I’d been holding. “Tell me about Baxter blackmailing you.”

 

She visibly deflated. As she pushed her hair back slowly with both hands, I could tell she was utterly exhausted. “Fine. I’ll tell you, but I don’t want anyone else to hear it.” Her gaze darted around the kitchen and she pointed to the walk-in refrigerator. “Let’s go in there.”

 

There was no way in hell I was walking into a giant icebox with this chick. “Look, just tell me what Baxter tried to do. The police will give you the benefit of the doubt if he was blackmailing you.”

 

“You’re as bad as Baxter,” she said, her tone an uncomfortable mix of anger and defeat. “Forcing me to tell you what happened to my locket. It’s like blackmail all over again.”

 

“I’m nothing like Baxter,” I said irately, not bothering to mention that she had been pointing a big, scary knife at me a minute ago. “I just want to hear the truth from you for once.”

 

She began to pace along the service counter, then stopped suddenly and looked at me. “Baxter got me pregnant with my first child.”

 

My mouth opened, and then closed. I had not expected that. But it was a really good reason for blackmail. “Does Raoul know?”

 

“Of course not,” she said, sounding irritated. “That’s why Baxter was trying to blackmail me.”

 

“I see.”

 

“There’s more,” she admitted.

 

“What is it?”

 

Reluctantly, she said, “He’s also the father of my second child.”

 

Wow, that was creepy. “So I guess you liked him a lot.”

 

“No! I hated him.”

 

“But it sounds like you’d been having a long-term affair.”

 

“You. Don’t. Understand.” With every syllable, Colette pounded her hand against the counter. She definitely had anger management issues. “He threatened to tell Raoul about the boys.”

 

“Oh.” I frowned at her. “So he was blackmailing you for sex?”

 

Her shoulders dipped. “Yes.”

 

“Colette, did he rape you?”

 

She reacted with horror. “No!”

 

I was relieved to hear it, but it was still strange that she had continued to sleep with Baxter. I would’ve rather come clean to my husband—but that was me.

 

She struggled to continue. “No, it was mutual.”

 

“But why?” I knew it was none of my business, but I had to say it. “You had Raoul. I mean, he’s awesome and he loves you.”

 

Her bottom lip began to quiver. “He was having an affair with Margot.”

 

I couldn’t imagine it. True, Raoul could have any woman he wanted, but it was crystal clear that he only wanted Colette, even if she was a harpy. “How did you find out?”

 

“I heard it from a very good source.”

 

“Who?” I demanded. “Margot?”

 

“I’m not saying.”

 

Damn, I smelled a six-foot-tall, redheaded rat. “Did you confront Raoul?”

 

“Why? So he could rub my nose in it?”

 

That didn’t sound like something Raoul would do, but what did I know about the inner workings of their marriage?

 

“Anyway,” she continued, “I was so upset about their affair and Baxter was there for me and he was so sympathetic and so giving, we just…well, that’s when it started. We carried it on for a few years, but when I finally tried to break it off with him, he pulled that blackmail baloney.”

 

“Creep,” I muttered. “But are you sure Raoul doesn’t know the boys aren’t his? I mean, he and Baxter look nothing alike.”

 

She shrugged. “The boys look like me. There was never a question that they weren’t Raoul’s.”

 

“I see. So it’s no wonder you killed Baxter.”

 

“I didn’t!” She smacked her fist against the poor defenseless counter again. “But I’m glad he’s dead. He was ruining our lives, turning me into a nervous wreck. The night after he died, I got my first good night of sleep in years.”

 

“He was really awful,” I said in all honesty.

 

“He was a son of a bitch.”

 

“So who killed him?”

 

Her eyes widened and she looked away quickly. “It wasn’t me. It was probably someone else he was blackmailing.”

 

“Probably.”

 

She pinched her lips together stubbornly. “Now I want my locket and you’re going to get it for me.”

 

“Okay.” I pushed away from the counter. “I’ll go tell Derek to give it to you.”

 

“Wait.” She grabbed my arm. “I don’t want Raoul to know any of this.”

 

“I won’t say anything to him.”

 

“I—I’m going with you.”

 

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