Cooking Up Murder (31 page)

"Exactly." I emphasized my point by gesturing with the spoon I was using to do some major damage to the peanut butter myself. "Like I told you back at the hospital, we had it all wrong the entire time. I'm only glad it worked out the way it did."

"And that no one got hurt. Well . . ." Eve's complexion turned an unbecoming shade of green. "Nobody but Yuri." She shivered. "Yikes, Annie, I was that close to him when he died." She held two fingers just a tiny bit apart. It would have been easier to do if they both weren't coated with peanut butter. "I could have been the one killed."

"Not to worry." I licked the remains of chocolate off my fingers. "Beyla made sure of that. As for Drago . . ."

"He was a bad guy, too, so I guess he got what he deserved."

"And Magda."

"Poor lady." Eve lowered her spoon in tribute. "She just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"And we just happened to have solved the case!" We clicked spoons in a toast.

"We'll have lots to talk about tomorrow at cooking class."

"Except I don't think we can." My fingers were sticky, and I wiped them against a paper napkin. "I mean, Witness Protection and gun smuggling and John the accountant not being who he pretended to be . . . Something tells me we're better off keeping our mouths shut."

"Except when it comes to Tyler." Eve's grin was wicked. "Oh, don't worry," she assured me, "I'm not going to give away any national secrets. But I think I can mention that the FBI commended us for the thoroughness of our investigation."

The way I remembered it, Derek had been commending me at the time, but since Eve had been drugged, I forgave her liberal editing.

"Tyler," I reminded her, "has peanut butter for brains."

"No way!" Eve turned her spoon upside down and licked it clean. "Peanut butter is way smarter. And tastier. I hope the man never crosses my path again."

"Here's to that." I saluted her with my mug of tea. "And here's to an end to all the danger we've been in. I don't need any more of that, thank you very much."

"Hear, hear." Eve raised her mug. "We've done our duty. No more bad guys. No more danger. No more--"

Her words dissolved in a gulp.

Because Eve had heard exactly what I'd heard: my front door creaking open.

We couldn't see out into the hallway from where we were sitting. I signaled her to remain quiet and quickly removed the peanut butter jar and the chocolate bars from the tray I'd used to carry it all into the living room, and tucked the tray under my arm. Though I wasn't sure what she planned to do with it, Eve latched onto a pillow. Side by side, we crept into the hall.

The door creaked open a little bit more. Eve and I hunkered down into our positions. When it opened all the way, we flew at the intruder from each side, our weapons (such as they were) raised and ready.

"Holy Jehosephat!" Jim slapped a hand to his heart and nearly fell back into the hallway. "What on earth are you two doing?"

"And what are you doing trying to scare us to death?" I grabbed his hand, pulled him into the apartment, and closed the door behind him. "How did you get up here? You didn't buzz."

Uncertainly, Jim eyed the tray that I had clutched in one hand. "I had the key. The one I used the other morning when I went out and bought the ingredients for the French toast. It's on an I Love Chemistry key chain."

Chemistry?

Peter, of course.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I thought about my ex without my blood pressure shooting to the ceiling and my heart feeling as if it had been ripped in two.

And it felt great.

"I thought I'd surprise you," Jim said, and he had no idea how close his words came to echoing what I was feeling. "But it looks like you've surprised me instead."

"You bet!" Eve tossed the pillow back in the living room. "And wait until you hear the rest of what happened. You'll be plenty surprised. We solved the case!"

"Did you?" When he looked at me, Jim's eyes twinkled. "I always knew you would. Tell me. Both of you, tell me everything."

"Annie will have to do that on her own." Eve disappeared into the living room and came out holding her shoes. Before I could offer a protest, she was already out the door. "I don't need to stay, so don't even say it, Annie. You heard what the doc in the ER had to say. I'm fine, and I feel fine, too. And whatever Yuri gave me, it's out of my system. I'm going to do exactly what that doctor said I should do: I'm going home to get some sleep."

"But--" I followed her to the door.

"But nothing." Out in the hallway, Eve lowered her voice. She looked over my shoulder to where Jim was waiting. "Three's a crowd," she said with a smile and headed toward the elevator.

I barely had time to catch my breath. Jim grabbed my hand, pulled me into the living room and, bless him, he didn't say a thing about the chocolate or the peanut butter. He took the tray out of my hand and set it down, then patted the spot on the couch next to him.

"I want to hear all about it," he said. "But first, I have some news of my own."

"Good news or bad news?"

"A wee bit of both, I'm afraid. You see, my Uncle Angus died."

"I'm sorry." I took his hand in mine. "Was it sudden?"

"Very. It's why I was called away from class last night, and why I canceled class today. Angus was a bit of an old codger and he didn't want a fuss made over him when he was alive or when he was dead. We've had the memorial service already, you see, and the reading of the will. I've got news, Annie." Jim tightened his hold on my hand. "Uncle Angus, he's left me his restaurant."

"His--!" A smile brightened my expression. "That's wonderful!"

Jim did his best to rein in his excitement. "It's not exactly the sort of place I've always dreamed about," he said. "But it's a start. I can leave Tres Bonne Cuisine and the cooking school. I can get started in a place of my own."

His excitement was infectious. "That's fabulous!"

"And, Annie, I want you to be my partner in the restaurant."

"That's ridiculous!" I dropped Jim's hand like a hot potato. I settled back against the couch cushions, far from him and his crazy idea. "I can't work in a restaurant. I'm a bank teller."

"You hate working at the bank."

"That's beside the point. I can't change jobs just like that, without any warning."

"They'll get along fine without you."

"But I've worked there for years."

"Then it's time for a change."

"Working for yourself . . ." My mind raced over every negative statistic I'd ever heard. "It's risky."

"Aye, but living's risky, Annie. And being your own boss, I'm thinking that's worth the risk."

"But I can't cook!" I wailed.

Jim laughed. He reached for my hand again and settled it between both his own. "I won't deny that," he said. "You are truly the worst cook I have ever come across."

"Then why--"

"Do I want you to be my partner? Because you're intelligent. And you're clever. Because you're better at numbers than anyone I've ever met, and I'm going to need that kind of talent on the business side of things."

"You mean I don't ever have to go into the kitchen?"

He held up one hand, Boy Scout style. "I swear it. You can have Angus's old office. It's in a nice wee bit of a room just off the side of the bar. You'll be snug in there, and you can organize it until your heart's content. I promise, it's far from the kitchen."

"And you'll do all the cooking."

"Cross my heart." He actually might have if he'd had a free hand. But one of them was still holding mine. And the other--and his arm along with it--had somehow managed to encircle my shoulders. "No cooking." I swear he knew what the sound of those long, delicious
ooooo
's did to me, because he leaned in close and murmured them against my lips.

Could I argue with logic like that?

"When do we start? Not before tomorrow. Or should I say today?" I glanced at the clock over on the bookcase--it was nearly time for the sun to be up. "Tonight we have dessert class."

"Aye, dessert!" Jim moved a hairsbreadth closer, and my eyes drifted shut when his mouth came down on mine. "I was thinking we could get started on dessert right now."

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COOKING UP MURDER

A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

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Berkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / November 2006

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