Getting Rich (A Chef Landry Mystery) (19 page)

At that moment the front door flew open and Bret Atwood stepped out. Jennifer’s muscular husband looked ready to fight, hands tightly fisted at his side. He stared at Charles. “What the hell are you doing here?”

No wonder Jennifer had been afraid of him. Some men’s features looked particularly fierce when they were angry. Bret Atwood was one of them.

He continued, his face a mask of rage, “Haven’t you done enough already? Jennifer and I were happy until you came around.”

I suddenly remembered the gun Charles was carrying, and stepped between him and Atwood. “There’s no reason to get upset, Mr. Atwood. Nothing happened. We’re leaving right now.”

“No reason to get upset? How am I supposed to feel? Three days ago Jennifer and I agreed to give our marriage a second chance. And twenty-four hours later she’s dead.” Atwood glared at Charles. “You killed her, you son of a bitch.”

And before I realized what he was doing, he’d sidestepped me and was lunging at Charles. Fists flew and, seconds later, Charles lay on the sidewalk, blood oozing from his nose.

He looked up at Atwood, his face ashen. “She was leaving me?” He looked so stunned that I just knew he wasn’t pretending. “That’s a lie,” he said, sounding uncertain.

All at once, the fight seemed to leave Atwood. “She didn’t tell you?”

Charles struggled back to his feet and wiped his nose with the sleeve of his coat. “She was leaving me? I don’t believe you.” He stared at Atwood. “You’re only trying to throw suspicion on me because you killed her. You murdered her, you son of a bitch.”

“Me?” Atwood said, outraged. “That’s ridiculous. If anybody had a reason to kill her, it wasn’t me. It was you.”

Charles paled. “I didn’t kill her. I loved her,” he said, his fury rising again. “And I don’t believe for one minute that she was going to leave me. I’d just asked her to marry me. And for your information, she said yes.”

Atwood looked dumbfounded. “Fuck you,” he said at last, lurching forward.

Both Jake and I jumped in front of him before things got out of control again. Which might not have been a good idea, because seconds later I was lying on the hard sidewalk, my crutches strewn yards away. This put an immediate end to the brawl. Atwood took a step back, embarrassed. Charles and Jake scrambled to help me back to my feet.

“Are you okay?” Jake asked, his eyes scanning me for injuries.

“I’m all right,” I said, although the fall had jolted my ankle and now it throbbed painfully.

“You don’t look all right,” Charles said.

“It’s just my ankle. Oh, God it hurts.”

He spun around to Atwood. “See what you did, you moron.”

Atwood stormed back inside his house and slammed the door shut.

I gritted my teeth against the pain and after a few moments it dissolved. “Let’s get out of here before he calls the police.” We made our way to Jake’s car.

“Charles,” I said, sliding into the back seat as he held the door open for me. “You shouldn’t be carrying a gun. What if Atwood called the police? You could get arrested.”

He reddened and snatched it out of his pocket, handing it to me.

“I don’t want it,” I said, pulling my hand away. The gun dropped to the sidewalk and, for one split second, I saw my life flash before my eyes. I imagined the gun firing, a bullet ricocheting and hitting me.

Seeing the look of panic on my face, Charles gave me a jaundiced smile. “You don’t have to be afraid. It’s not loaded. In fact,” he said, stooping to pick it up, “it’s not even a real gun. It’s a lighter.” And to demonstrate, he pulled the trigger and a flame came out of the barrel. “I only wanted to scare him—make him admit that he killed her.”

“Of all the cockamamie plans,” I muttered, as he closed the door and climbed into the front. “You’re just lucky nobody got seriously hurt.”

half a dozen buff young men in tow

At two-thirty Judy arrived, eager to get going, and soon after Toni showed up. “So, what are you waiting for?” she said. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

I threw on my coat, locked up, and we piled into Toni’s car. I filled them in as we got into her car.

“So if it wasn’t Jennifer’s ex and it wasn’t Charles,” Judy said, “who’s left?”

“Not so fast,” I said. “I’m not convinced her ex is as innocent as he claims. For one thing, he was stalking Jennifer. And stalkers often become violent when their victim doesn’t do what they want.”

Toni paused, key in the ignition. “Do you really think it could be him?” She looked relieved. “That would mean it wasn’t a case of mistaken identity.”

“I would very much like it to be him. It would make both of us feel a lot safer.”

“What do you mean, both of us? I didn’t see anyone suggesting you were at risk.” Toni put her car into drive and we took off.

“If you were the intended victim, that would make me the most likely suspect—at least in the eyes of the cops,” I said tightly from the backseat. “The police always start by looking at whoever has the most to gain financially. So, guess who they’d go after?”

Judy looked at me, bewildered.

Toni caught my eyes in the rearview mirror. “Perhaps, but I’d still rather be a suspect than a victim.”

“So far, I’d say I’m more of a victim than you are. I’m the one wearing a cast.”

She ignored my comment. “Her ex might turn out to be innocent, just as Charles could turn out to be guilty. Remember, you can’t tell a liar any more than you can tell a killer.” For once, Toni’s quote was a serious one. She grimaced. “Enough talk about murder. I don’t want to spend the rest of the day worrying that somebody wants me dead. All I want, at least for a little while, is to go look at real estate, so not a word about murder out of either one of you. Is that too much to ask?”

“No problem.” I’d had enough of the subject too.

“I thought we should start with the place on King,” Toni said, as she turned left onto Queen, a route that would take us by Skinny’s. My heart constricted.

A few blocks later traffic came to a crawl as looky-loos slowed for a look at the charred remains of our restaurant. We drove at the speed of a funeral procession, inching by and staring mutely. If anything, the devastation looked worse by daylight—the charred remains of my life’s dream. I took in the gaping hole where the front window had been, and the frayed, burned fabric of the curtain, swaying in the breeze. The ceiling had caved from the weight of the water. Soggy plasters and broken ceiling pipes now joined the rubble on the floor. It was a heartbreaking sight.

“Let’s get out of here,” Toni said mournfully. She sped up.

“One good thing about the place on King,” I said, trying to inject some optimism in our excursion, “is how close it is to this location—only half a dozen blocks.”

“Good point,” Judy said.

“You see that as an advantage?” Toni said. “I look at it as a drawback. Once all the repairs are done on Queen, and we reopen, our two locations will be too close to each other.”

I was dumbfounded. “I can’t figure you out. One minute you don’t want to reopen at all. And the next, you’re talking about operating
two
restaurants.” With any luck, after all the work of getting the first one going, Toni would be less enthusiastic about opening a second one.

“Well, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’ll be damned before I let some homicidal maniac control my life. If I have to hire some bodyguards for protection, then that’s what I’ll do.”

I nearly burst out laughing at the image of Toni with half a dozen buff young men in tow. I wouldn’t put it past her to hire them for the eye candy alone. Now that was the Toni I knew and loved.

“Good for you, Toni. You have such a great attitude,” Judy said.

As we drove along, I found myself glancing back after every intersection. Toni watched me from the rearview mirror.

“What are you looking at?” she asked after a few blocks.

“Call me paranoid, but I’m just making sure nobody is following us.”

Judy swiveled around in her seat. “Do you see anybody?”

I looked again. “There are so many cars it’s difficult to tell.” A number of them had been behind us for the past few blocks, but as we drove through the next intersection, two of the three turned right. A few hundred yards later the last one sped up and passed us.

“It looks like we’re good,” I said. Toni’s eyes lost their fear and her hands relaxed their grip on the wheel.

She pointed to a storefront. “There it is.” The space was at the street level of an old brownstone. She slowed to a crawl and swerved into a parking lot across the street.

“Not here,” Judy said. “You and I might not mind crossing the street on foot, but I think Nicky would rather we park a bit closer.”

I nodded toward my crutches. “If a car decides to hit me, I wouldn’t stand a chance in hell of getting out the way with these things.”

“I doubt anybody’s out to mow you down, but I’ll park closer all the same,” Toni said. She pulled out of the parking lot and circled the block, until after going around twice she scored a spot a few feet from the entrance. “Is this close enough?” she asked, grinning at me from the mirror. “Or do you need to take a cab from here?”

We left the car and soon were peering through a dirty window at an empty and very dusty interior.

“This place looks awful. Must have been a fast-food restaurant,” Toni said. “I didn’t think anything could look worse than the way our Queen location did when we took it over, but this one beats it hands down.”

“It’s not that bad,” Judy said. “At least it still has booths and a food counter. Maybe after a good scrubbing—”

Toni shook her head, already walking away. “That might work if we were running a cafeteria, but we need an upscale location for our restaurant. We’d have to gut this place entirely. And did you see the grease on the ceiling? It’s practically coming down in stalactites. Ugh. Forget this one.”

“I don’t think it’s that bad,” I said, even though I was secretly glad she hated it. “The next one on the list might be better.”

“It can’t be worse,” she retorted.

This time we headed north to an address on Avenue Road. Again, I kept checking behind, and again nobody seemed to be following us. Judy asked about various sights along the way.

“That’s the ROM,” Toni said, answering one of her questions. “The Royal Ontario Museum.” And a few blocks later, “That’s Hazelton Lanes—the first few floors are a shopping center, the rest are all condos. That’s where I live.”

Toni’s condo was on the top floor, a gorgeous, four-thousand-square-foot condo. We drove on. This time, Toni found a parking spot just a few doors down from where we were going. I struggled out of the car and joined Judy, who was already staring through the store window.

“This place is wonderful,” she said, excitedly. “Come and look, Toni. I just know you’ll love it.”

Toni was standing a few feet away, arms crossed as she studied the building. “It looks all right from the street. The location is good, between two dress shops.”

I looked inside. Judy was right. It was a beautiful space. I only hoped my friend liked it too. She stepped closer and peered inside. I held my breath.

She walked over, peering through the glass with her hands like blinders around her eyes. “Ohhh, I
love
this one.” She turned to Judy, smiling. “You’re right. This place is great. What do you think, Nicky? It looks good, don’t you think?”

Knowing Toni, agreeing too fast might have the completely opposite effect. I squinted and peered inside again. The interior was about twice as big as our present location and, from what I could see, it wouldn’t need much work. The ceilings were a disappointing nine feet high instead of the eighteen feet we now had. But they were free of the crisscross of old metal pipes we’d struggled to disguise.

“It reminds me of Skinny’s on Queen, but bigger. Aren’t you afraid it might be too big?”

“What are you talking about? We decided bigger was what we wanted. It’ll give us room to expand.” She went back to examining the inside like a child looking through the window of a candy store. “Look at that floor. It’s industrial vinyl flooring—the latest thing—worth a fortune.”

I hadn’t noticed the floor. Granted, it did look impressive, solid black with textured silver-dollar-size rondelles.

Toni spoke to herself rather than to Judy and me. “We could do something really gorgeous with this place.”

I continued playing my role of devil’s advocate and pulled away from the window. “I don’t know. The next one could be even better. That’s the one that went bankrupt just a couple of months ago. And the area is a lot cheaper than Avenue Road.” It wasn’t exactly in the best neighborhood, but I would let Toni point that out.

Toni regarded me dubiously and strode back to her car. “If it went belly-up, chances are it won’t be in great shape.”

“
We
almost went belly-up, and our place looks great,” I argued, trying to keep pace with her long legs.

She bobbed her head from side to side, noncommittally.

“Are you suggesting you don’t think your restaurant is gorgeous?” Judy asked.

“Gorgeous?” she repeated, pausing with her hand on the car-door handle. “I wouldn’t exactly use those words. Cool? Yes. Quirky? Definitely. I might even say it’s attractive. But gorgeous, most certainly not.” She opened the doors for Judy and me, and walked around to the driver’s side. She turned the key in the ignition and the motor roared to life.

Judy looked stunned. “I can’t believe you didn’t love Skinny’s decor. From what you told me, you and Nicky worked so hard to create it. Everybody I talk to agrees that it was beautiful.”

It felt odd hearing it referred to in the past tense.

Toni glanced into the side mirror. “That’s not what I said. All I’m saying is, this time we could do even better.” She checked the traffic from the rear and moved into the flow of cars.

“Okay, if you could do anything you want with the new location, what would you do differently?” Judy asked.

Toni brightened with enthusiasm. “I’d probably keep the decor similar to Skinny’s on Queen. I liked the black-and-white harlequin floor. I just wish we’d used stone, or at least tile, instead of linoleum.”

I felt defensive of the nice decor I’d come up with. “Linoleum is making a comeback. And it’s ecologically friendly.”

“Stone is ecologically friendly too, and it lasts longer,” she retorted. “I also liked the wall of mirrors and the fuchsia tables and chairs. It added a flash of color. My only regret is that we used such cheap materials. This time I’d like to use better quality furniture, get the tables and chairs professionally painted.”

I heard an imaginary ka-ching as I thought of how Toni could easily drop a bundle when it was for something she wanted. If she had her way, I’d be paying her back for decades. And it would be years before we saw a profit. That might not be a problem for my rich girlfriend, but I needed my paycheck. “Let me point out that even though this place you like so much spent a fortune on their decor, it didn’t prevent them from going out of business. Quite the opposite I expect. It probably accelerated their failure. The first rule of starting any new enterprise is to keep expenses low, at least until you start showing a profit.”

She continued as if she hadn’t heard a word I’d just said. “That wall of mirrors was a great idea of yours, but I wish we’d gone for nicer mirrors.”

Ka-ching.

“I also liked the individual chandeliers over each table, but again, I’d rather something a bit more elegant than tin.”

Another ka-ching.

Judy must have been thinking much the same as me because she said, “That all sounds expensive.”

Toni glanced at me and saw the concern on my face. “Don’t worry so much. We have insurance money coming in, and whatever it doesn’t cover I can front.”

My heart sank. I still hadn’t told her that we’d had no insurance. “Uh, Toni. There’s something I think you should know.”

“What?”

“We didn’t have any insurance.”

Her eyes sought mine in the rearview mirror. “What do you mean—You thought—” She burst into laughter. To Judy, she said, “Of all people, Nicky should know me better than that. Of course we had insurance. I took care of it myself. It was the first thing I did when I loaned the company the start-up money.”

“
You
took out insurance?” I stared at her, openmouthed. “Are you sure?”

“It was my money on the line. When it comes to protecting my money, I would never, ever take a chance.”

It finally sank in. During the first months we were in business, Toni had been in charge of the bookkeeping, so it was possible. “Oh, Toni, I could kiss you.”

She grimaced. “Oh, spare me the emotions, will you? Just co-sign the check when it comes in. That’s all the gratitude I need.”

“You’ve got it.” And then, worried about her going crazy with the checkbook, I said, “All my life I’ve had to be careful with my spending. It’ll be so much fun to just go out and spend as much as I want. I can’t wait.”