Read Death by the Dozen Online
Authors: Jenn McKinlay
Death by the Dozen (15 page)
“Thanks, Uncle Stan.” She leaned against him for just the briefest moment in an attempt to absorb some of his strength.
When they broke apart, Uncle Stan took their plates to a nearby trash can and came back and kissed Mel on the forehead.
“Be good,” he said. “I’ll be in touch.”
Mel nodded. As she watched him slip back into the crowd, she thought about what he had said. After hearing Vic’s list of wrongs, she believed someone was mad enough at him to kill him.
She knew about Grace and Dutch and Bertie. They were all old news. But she didn’t know about his sponsor, nor did she know anything about Jordan Russell. The young wannabe Food Channel star seemed as good a place as any to start.
Fifteen
Mel figured the judging should be done by now. She wandered back toward the staging area, partly to check their status on the leader board but mostly to check out Jordan Russell.
The judges were just finishing up. Mel wasn’t sure whose offering was the last concoction of the day, but both Dutch and Bertie grimaced during the tasting. The
Food and Wine
critic delicately spit hers out in a napkin, and Jordan took one sniff of it and then pushed it away. She was not about to let anything so vile pass her collagen-puffed lips.
Food and Wine
critic delicately spit hers out in a napkin, and Jordan took one sniff of it and then pushed it away. She was not about to let anything so vile pass her collagen-puffed lips.
Mel stood studying her. She was young, yes. She was pretty, yes. But what had Vic seen in her besides that? There were scores of pretty young things in cooking school. What had made Vic single her out as his protégée?
She wasn’t even a real cook by her own admission. Was she just riding Vic’s coattails to fame and glory on the Food Channel? How did Vic’s sudden demise affect her rise? Given that she had taken his place, it didn’t appear to be an adverse turn of events for her.
While Mel watched, Jordan tossed her thick dark hair over her shoulder and gave Dutch Johnson, who was seated beside her, a decidedly flirty look. Interesting move on her part, given that her lover had just been murdered. But then, Johnny had all but admitted that there was something going on between Jordan and Dutch.
While the other judges were dressed in professionallooking blazers and sports coats, Jordan had decided this was the place to wear a hot pink halter top and a black ruffled miniskirt. She looked like she was ready to go dance the merengue.
“Melanie, it’s impolite to stare.”
Mel turned to find her mother standing beside her. There was no sign of her friend Ginny.
“Where’s Laverne?” she asked.
“Who?” Joyce frowned at her.
“Your BFF,” Mel said. “The Laverne to your Shirley?”
“Oh, Ginny, well, she got a little overheated, and her husband, Monty, came and picked her up.”
“Overheated or shnockered?” Mel asked.
“It would be indelicate for me to be more specific,” Joyce said.
Mel smiled. Even in her vibrant green shirt and matching visor, Joyce Cooper was every inch a lady. It was one of the things Mel most admired about her mother. She never swore, she always looked her best, and her glass was always half full even when it was empty.
“I love you, Mom.”
“I love you, too,” Joyce said. “Now why were you staring at the brunette at the judges’ table?”
“Her name is Jordan Russell, and she is . . . was Vic Mazzotta’s girlfriend,” Mel said.
“Oh, dear, I didn’t know he and Grace had divorced.”
“They didn’t.”
Joyce stared at the brunette and frowned. She took it personally when younger women made off with older women’s husbands. “I bet those are fake.”
“Well spotted,” Mel said. “I’m pretty sure the whole package is fake.”
“What’s fake?” Angie asked as she joined them.
“Jordan Russell.”
“Hunh,” Angie grunted. “I heard Olivia complimenting her outfit earlier. What do you want to bet she marks Olivia higher than us?”
“That’s fine,” Mel said. “I don’t want her vote.”
“Are you kidding me?” Angie said. “I will worship her heinous fashion sense if it keeps us ahead of Olivia.”
“You’re obsessed,” Mel said.
“No, I’m competitive,” Angie said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go suck up.”
Joyce and Mel watched as she approached the judges’ table. They had finished the taste testing and turned in their score cards and were now calling it a day.
Three of the four judges had grudges against Vic. Maybe Angie wasn’t so far off the mark to get in their good graces.
“I’m going to join Angie,” Mel said to Joyce. “I’ll call you later.”
“Good idea. Try to make nice with them. After all, you could use that prize money for the bakery.”
“Oh, I’ll make nice,” Mel said. “Very nice.”
If Joyce heard a hint of sarcasm in Mel’s voice, she chose to ignore it.
Mel found Angie standing with Dutch looking tonguetied and nervous.
“Nice concoction you pulled out today,” he said to Mel. “Using the stout in a brownie was brilliant, but serving it in a crunchy chocolate shell with a thin layer of chocolate mousse and topped with whipped cream really added texture and complexity. Well done.”
“Thank you.”
Mel bowed her head in acknowledgment. Dutch might be wrapped up in his desire to be a celebrity, but the man still knew his way around a kitchen and the praise was not to be taken lightly.
“Your partner here tells me that you’re dating her older brother, an assistant district attorney?”
“I am,” Mel said.
“Funny, I always figured you’d go for a foodie type, you know, a restaurant owner or a food critic or a TV celebrity chef.”
He glanced meaningfully at Johnny Pepper, who was chatting up a few contestants and contest officials, and then back at Mel. She knew he was trying to determine if her visit to Johnny’s dressing room had been personal or professional. Too bad it was none of his biz.
“Nah, you know the old saying, ‘Too many cooks in the kitchen spoil the stew.’”
“Only if it’s one like that one,” Dutch said. He pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to where Olivia had the
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critic cornered in the judges’ booth like a bug in a Venus flytrap.
Food and Wine
critic cornered in the judges’ booth like a bug in a Venus flytrap.
“Someone should really go rescue her,” Mel said.
She and Angie both looked at Dutch.
“Oh, no,” he said. “She’ll suck me into her crazy vortex, and I’ll never get out. She got me and Bertie yesterday, and we thought we’d never escape.”
“What time yesterday?” Mel asked.
“After the competition,” he said. “Why do you think we bolted out of the booth today?”
“Like rats off a sinking ship?” Mel asked.
“Now, is that nice?” he countered.
“Sorry, I’m a little surly since my mentor was found dead in a freezer.”
“I’m sorry about that,” Dutch said. He met her gaze, and he ran a strong hand over his shaved head. It was a nervous gesture that Mel remembered from their cooking school days. “Listen, Vic and I had our differences, but I didn’t wish him dead.”
“Really?” she asked.
She could feel Angie’s eyes boring into the side of her skull, trying to get her to shut up, but she had to know. Did Dutch have something to do with Vic’s murder?
He blew out a breath. “I can’t believe you just asked me that.” He gave her a look full of recrimination, but Mel lifted her chin defiantly.
“I’m planning on asking everyone who had an issue with Vic the same thing,” she said.
He stepped close, leaned over her, and said, “Then you’d better watch your back.”
Mel could feel Angie bristle beside her, but before she could question Dutch further, an arm looped around Mel’s waist and jerked her back. She turned and found Joe standing behind her.
“So, how’s it going, Cupcake?” he asked.
She turned back around to see that Dutch had stepped back with a smirk. “I can see you’re in good hands. Later.”
Without waiting to be introduced to Joe, he disappeared into the crowd, and Mel wondered if it was the fact that Joe was the assistant DA that had him in full retreat.
“Was it something I said?” Joe asked. He kissed the spot just below Mel’s ear, and she felt her entire body shiver.
“I do not like that guy,” Angie said. “He’s as charming as all get-out but about as trustworthy as a toothy alligator.”
“Funny, I had the same impression, especially since he seemed to have my girl in his sights,” Joe said. “So who is he?”
“One of the judges for the competition,” Mel said. “He’s also an old classmate of mine, who just happened to have a big falling-out with Vic.”
Joe raised his eyebrows. “You don’t think . . .”
“I don’t know,” she said.
“Good, then let’s leave it to the police,” he said.
Mel was about to open her mouth to protest. She wasn’t sure she liked his bossy tone, but Angie interrupted her.
“Hey, look!” Angie cried. “They’re putting up the winners on the leader board!”
Sixteen
Mel wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting—okay, maybe she had been expecting them to remain on top, where in her humble opinion they belonged. That where in her humble opinion they belonged. That didn’t prove to be the case, however.
As Fairy Tale Cupcakes slid down to second, a chortle from behind her announced the presence of the new leader on the board. Instinctively, Mel and Joe both grabbed one of Angie’s arms, pinning her between them before she did anything that would get them disqualified.
Olivia and her sous-chef pranced by them chanting, “We’re number one, you’re number two, we’re going to beat the whoopee out of you.”
“Just let me go kick her in the pants,” Angie pleaded. “Please just one swift kick in the derriere and I’m good, I swear.”
“No!” Mel and Joe said at the same time.
“She’ll press assault charges,” Joe said. “And then you’ll be out for good.”
Angie closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath through her nose, held it, and then released it slowly. Mel and Joe waited patiently while she did this several times until the crazy light in her brown eyes dimmed.
“Okay, I’m good,” she said.
Mel and Joe exchanged a glance before they released her.
“I need to see what she beat us with,” Angie said. “I’ll be right back.”
Mel watched to make sure Angie went to the judges’ table to see the tally sheets. Mel wouldn’t put it past her to chase Olivia out of the festival. But true to her word, Angie was up at the table overlooking the critiques.
A crestfallen Polly walked over to Mel and said, “I really thought I nailed it, but look, I slid into fourth.”
Molly’s Moonpies had taken the number three spot. They were located in Phoenix, and Mel wondered what they’d done to knock Polly down on the board. Obviously, they were a competitor to watch.
“I hate her,” Angie said as she stomped back over.
“I’m sorry,” Polly said with wide eyes.
“Oh, no, not you,” Angie said. “Olivia Puckett.”
“Oh, yeah, she is unpleasant,” Polly said.
“Check this out: She beat us with Guinness pudding with whiskey sauce,” Angie said. “That’s just a bunch of baloney. There is no way that was better than ours. She just liquored those judges up.”
“You don’t think she’s corrupt enough to buy off the judges, do you?” Joe asked. He had on his district attorney bad face.
Mel and Angie just looked at him. Olivia had been a rock in their shoe since the day they’d opened Fairy Tale Cupcakes. It was hard to say what lengths she’d go to in order to win.
“Well, that’s really low,” Polly fumed.
“That’s nothing for Olivia,” Angie said.
“Listen, I have to get back to the office,” Joe said. “If you turn up anything that warrants looking into, call me.”
Mel kissed his cheek. “I love having a crime-fighting attorney for a boyfriend,” she said, and he grinned at her, looking embarrassed but pleased.
They watched Joe leave, and Polly said, “Well, I’d better get back to my apartment so I can have another night of insomnia while I try to guess what they’ll throw at us next.”
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