Hot Stuff Page 12

  “She hinted at an affair, possibly in the kitchen. God, it couldn’t have been with the little guy at the washing machine. I mean, God love him, but that wasn’t her style. She was driven, Skip. The girl I knew would do anything to get where she wanted to be. I was,” she hesitated for a moment, “envious. I think most of the kitchen staff was envious. She worked off of, what appeared to be, very little creative talent, but she was always in the right place at the right time. When someone needed something done, Amanda was the go-to girl. Just like that.”

  “Who was she dating?”

  “There were rumors. One that was pretty graphic, but—”

  “Who? Who was rumored to be seeing her?”

  “I’d rather not. But, it could have been almost anyone, even Chef Marty. And I know that she and Joaquin had a love-hate relationship.”

  “Yeah?”

  She sipped at her beer. “Love may be too strong a word. He’d praise her and in the next breath scream at her. Fire-and-ice kind of a thing.”

  I made a mental note.

  “I will tell you this. When Amanda wanted something, she went after it. She and I had a little problem with that.”

  “Oh?”

  Her gaze shifted to the bar. Apparently there was no more to say.

  “I heard that Sophia was trying to keep Bouvier’s name out of the list of suspects. Could Amanda have had an affair with—”

  “Oh, hell,” she snapped. “Amanda could have had anyone. I figured out six months ago that she got around. You know what I mean?”

  I did.

  “She was hot. Good looks, great personality, and guys were standing in line. So make a list of anyone who was interested and—”

  She was silent for a moment.

  “Drew, my husband, and I—we—” She went silent again.

  “What about your husband?”

  “Forget I mentioned it.”

  “I told you, my roommate went out with her twice. I know she was a friend of yours, but he wasn’t that taken with her. He used the word several times. Clingy.”

  Kelly Fields stared at the table directly in front of her. With a bitterness in her voice she said, “She was emotional. Needy. She needed someone to affirm her worth.”

  I waited, drinking my beer, hoping she’d continue. She did.

  “You know, she wanted it all. And I guess I somewhat admired that in her. But how she went about it, I’m not sure I could do that.”

  “What did she do?”

  “I never verbalized this, Skip, but she was the kind of girl who would probably sleep her way to the top.”

  “She slept with Bouvier?”

  “I didn’t say that. I would have absolutely no knowledge of her relationships. It would be great gossip if I did. No, she never confided in me who she slept with.”

  She studied me for a moment, then looked away for a second.

  “There was one story, but I never heard it backed up.”

  “And you won’t tell me.”

  “No. But in the past, she gave me little inklings that she used people to get what she wanted.”

  “Kelly, you don’t sound like someone who was her good friend. I mean—”

  “I didn’t approve of her methods. She only professed to be my friend.”

  Kelly Fields gritted her teeth.

  “Methods? You just said Amanda Wright used people? Is that right? She used them?”

  She straightened up and glared at me. “Tell me about your friend James.”

  “What?” I was taken back. The girl sounded like she was on the attack. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “Oh, I’ve been involved in some conversations, Skip.” There was some fire in her eyes. “James uses people. With women, he can sleep with them and then walk away the next morning, never calling again. Your friend James uses people to get jobs, to make his money, and you, Mr. Moore, you ride on his coattails. You’re his friend, just like I was Amanda’s friend. So let’s not make this a black-and-white case. There are gray areas, here, Skip.”

  She leaned back and watched me, waiting for my response.

  Kelly Fields had nailed it. I was stupid enough not to realize that she and Amanda had shared some intimacy. Amanda had told her about James, long before Kelly had met the chef in training. Still, I had to ask.

  “How do you know this? How much more do you know about us?”

  “I know why you’re asking these questions. Use your head. I was friends, I thought, with Amanda Wright and, as you know so well, she went out with your roommate.”

  It seriously hadn’t even crossed my mind until now. James had told Amanda that he moonlighted as a private detective.

  “And hey, it doesn’t bother me. I would love for you to solve the murder, but honestly, Amanda never once told me whom she was seeing. Every time it came up, she backed off. The stories were just that. Stories.” She squinted, her eyes narrowing as she said the word stories. “I’ve had a hard time finding middle ground, Skip. Her little dalliances became something I believed in.”

  I had no idea where she was going with that, but I did understand one thing.

  “So you know that we are—”

  “Private investigators? Yes. I’m brighter than most of the staff, Skip. I say that with all humility.”

  She was putting all her cards on the table.

  “Do you know that they fingerprinted the staff tonight? I didn’t see them print you or James.”

  I hadn’t even thought of that. Who else on the staff would have noticed?

  “The only two who didn’t ink up.”

  All of a sudden I was very uncomfortable.

  “I’m glad you are talking to me. You need to connect with everyone there, because I think Amanda’s entire life was that restaurant, that kitchen. And someone from that life, they took that from her.”

  Again, the cover had been blown. But I felt we had an ally. Someone who wouldn’t spread the word. It was probably a good thing to have someone on the inside of our inside.

  “Did Amanda ever talk to you about a sexual harassment charge she filed against an instructor at her college?”

  “I remember something like that. There are other things she told me but—”

  “What other things?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Even though Amanda is dead, I’m not sure I should be mentioning this.”

  “Does it have any bearing on her murder?”

  “Oh, God, I wouldn’t think so.”

  “So, what was it?”

  “Back in high school.”

  She was taking her time, stretching the story.

  Toying with her rich auburn hair, she asked, “Skip, do you have kids?”

  “No.”

  “I do. And I wouldn’t trade them for anything. I love my kids so much.”

  “That’s a good thing.”

  “Amanda didn’t have kids.”

  “I assumed that.”

  “But when she was in high school, she had an abortion.”

  “Really?” Was that what Em was keeping from me? And, if so, why?

  “She was dating some guy when she was like sixteen or seventeen. I really don’t have all the facts, but she got pregnant and his dad paid for her to have an abortion.”

  I smiled. Not an appropriate thing to do at the moment, but I smiled.

  “Do you find that amusing?”

  “No.” I found it astounding. I found it unbelievable. But I was putting some pieces in the jigsaw puzzle. “Did she ever mention that the boyfriend and the father were jewelers?”

  “She just said that he had money.”

  “I don’t know how it fits, Kelly, but I think you’ve just given me a link.”

  “I hope it helps. Now, I’ve really got to go.”

  “Hug your kids tonight.”

  “I always do,” she said.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  I was supposed to call James. He was going to drive over to pick me up, but instead I walked two
blocks to The Grand Condominiums where Em lived. Nodding to the two uniformed doormen, I walked into the huge marble-tiled lobby. As I approached the desk, I suddenly stopped.

  What was I going to say to her? Accuse her of not telling me something that might be important to the girl’s murder? I wasn’t sure what Kelly Fields had told me was tied to the killing. I was still filling in the blanks, still mulling it over in my mind.

  I could ask Em what was the deal with the cop. Was she all of a sudden romantically interested in the guy who’d tried to prove she was guilty of grand theft? I wasn’t sure I wanted the answer.

  I turned, walked outside, and called James. I couldn’t fault Em for getting tired of waiting. Waiting for me to get a little more focus. Waiting for me, as she sometimes put it, to grow up. To get out of James’s shadow.

  Kelly the baker had figured it out, and she didn’t even know me. She’d said something about riding on James’s coattails. And it was pretty much what I was doing. Pretty intuitive. Pretty sharp lady.

  Thirty minutes later, as I sat on the curb, James pulled up in the white monster.

  “Why so glum, chum?”

  “Just thinking.”

  “Em’s building. So you two talked?”

  “Nope. We will.”

  I filled him in on most of the conversation with the Fields lady.

  “Whoa. Amanda Wright is knocked up at sixteen, gets an abortion, then when she’s twenty she files a sexual battery charge against a college instructor?”

  “The kid’s dad paid for the abortion. I was wondering if somebody paid her off to drop charges against the teacher.”

  “Skip, you’re talking about Em’s friend. You’re making her sound like some sort of—”

  “Wondering, James.”

  “And you can’t go to Em and say something?”

  I couldn’t. Not yet. I wanted something tangible to present to her. What I wanted was to solve the murder.

  “It’s not our job to investigate this lady, Skip.”

  I’d thought about that, too.

  “Our job, the reason we were hired, was to clear the restaurant staff. Bouvier wants to know if someone from L’Elfe was responsible.”

  “Yeah. Well, it seems to have taken on some other dimensions.”

  He nodded as he lit up a cigarette and was careful to blow the smoke out the window, not at me.

  “I’m not saying don’t go after it, amigo. I’m just saying that we need to concentrate on that kitchen staff. And so far, we haven’t made much headway.”

  “There’s a reason she was murdered. So, I’m thinking we find that reason, and we’ll know if someone from the kitchen staff, the restaurant staff, was involved.”

  “Nothing wrong with approaching it from both sides,” he said.

  “One more thing, James.”

  “Only one?”

  “When Kelly Fields said Amanda would sleep her way to the top, I think it adds another suspect to the mix.”

  “That’s all we need.”

  “Jean Bouvier.”

  “Pard, I don’t care how much she wanted something, can you picture her having sex with the elf?”

  I didn’t want to.

  “So you’re saying that Bouvier may have killed her because—”

  “Maybe she was blackmailing him?”

  “Only if she slept with him.”

  “And maybe Sophia suspects that Bouvier killed her. And that’s why she is so insistent that we don’t consider him. She’s adamant that we don’t go there.”

  He was quiet for a long time, and I reached for the radio. Then I remembered it quit working a week ago.

  “I think it’s a long shot, pard.”

  We drove in the warm humid night air, both windows down. Mainly because the air-conditioning didn’t work and because my window wouldn’t roll up.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  I heard James’s phone ring at seven a.m. Rolling over, I pulled the pillow over my head and tried to ignore it. I could still hear him as he finally answered on the fourth ring.

  The one-sided conversation was hard to follow.

  “Hello?”

  Silence, then, “The L’Elfe Two?”

  More silence and, “You want me to what?”

  Even though I prayed for quiet and another hour or two, I obviously wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.

  “Chef Jean knows this?”

  Getting out of bed, I walked to the kitchen and grabbed the orange juice from the refrigerator. I checked the smell test to see if it was spoiled, then gulped a mouthful from the spout. Sitting down at the kitchen table, I reflected on what I’d learned last night. What about Amanda’s sexual past could lead to her murder? I still hadn’t figured it out.

  “Hey, chief, you’re not going to believe this.” The hangover effect seemed to have left him and he was as chipper as usual. I, on the other hand, not so much.

  “What? They’re giving you the South Beach restaurant after just three nights on the job?”

  “Not quite. But close.”

  “What’s close?”

  “Chef Marty pulled a little disciplinary action on our friend Joaquin. He pulled him from Bouvier’s party boat detail tonight. Mr. Vanderfield will not be working this evening.”

  “Party boat?”

  “It’s a dinner cruise boat. He named it L’Elfe Two. Not very original, but apparently people pay a lot of money to eat his food on the water.”

  “Okay, what does that have to do with you?”

  “Chef wants me to be the number two guy on the boat tonight. Number two, amigo. Pretty cool.”

  I shook my head. “Chef Marty doesn’t know you’re not really there to work the kitchen.”

  “No.” James shot me a look. “What he knows is that Bouvier told everyone I was the heir apparent to the new place, so he’s figuring, why not try me out on the boat. I’m sure Marty is going to watch me to see if I have the talent or the magic to make this happen.”

  James smirked. He was in on the joke.

  “And I guess Bouvier approved it, so there wouldn’t be any question about my ability and skills.”

  “And you don’t really know what you’re doing.”

  James opened the refrigerator and pulled out the orange juice. Without checking on the expiration date he slugged down two or three swallows.

  “Skip, I’ve surprised myself. I actually am working almost up to speed. I’ve helped a couple of the cooks with their sauces, made some suggestions and decisions, and even got involved in baking some bread with Kelly last night.”

  “James, we’re here to catch a killer.”

  “I’m supervising, advising, and last night I introduced my red wine plum sauce with cloves and Dijon mustard. Get it, dude. Bouvier’s kitchen was serving my plum sauce. It doesn’t get much better than that.”

  “You get it, dude. Play the role but keep in mind what we’re here to do. Got it?”

  “One night on the boat, Skip. There will be a couple of the kitchen staff, four from the waitstaff, and, get this, the group that hired the cruise have asked for Bouvier and Sophia to join them.”

  “High rollers.”

  “Very. I mean, in the food chain, you don’t get much higher than celebrity chef Jean Bouvier.”

  “So, you’re cooking for the boss and some big shot party?”

  “Chef said you were invited.”

  I blinked and tugged at my boxer shorts. “As a member of the party?”

  He smiled, rolling his eyes. “Hardly.”

  “What are they going to do without me back at L’Elfe one? I was beginning to think no one else knew how to run the damned dishwasher.”

  “Don’t be bitter, son. We’ll still be hanging with Chef Marty, two of the cooks, and four waiters. It will give us a chance to talk a little to Marty. You did say that Kelly mentioned that it was possible Amanda even had an affair with him.”

  “What the pastry chef said was that Amanda could have had her pick of any
one on the staff, even Chef.”

  “Skip, while we’re one on one with Marty and two other cooks, Em can be working on the backgrounds of Joaquin Vanderfield and Juan Castro. We’re still covering all the bases. I liked that line the cookie lady had about Vanderfield and Amanda. They had a love-hate. What do you make of that?”

  “I don’t know, but I’ll check with Em and see how far she’s gotten on her computer checks.”

  He had a point. Em could be doing some legwork while we worked the dinner shift. And working on a boat sounded like a lot more fun than spending another night in that hot pressure cooker of a kitchen.

  “What the heck.”

  “Great. It’s an easy gig. Most of the cooking is done at the restaurant. He says we simply warm, serve, and clean up.”

  I was pretty sure who was going to clean up.

  “You call Em, I’ll let Chef know we’re on board.”

  “Literally.”

  I dreaded the call, not knowing what to say to her about my insecurities, but I plowed ahead. She picked up on the third ring.

  “Skip.”

  “Can you talk?”

  “Of course.”

  “I didn’t know if you were busy.”

  “I’m not.”

  That was a positive sign.

  “What’s up?”

  “Well, James and I have been invited, summoned rather, to appear on Bouvier’s party boat tonight.”

  “L’Elfe Two? That’s supposed to be quite a yacht.” She was tuned into the elite, sophisticated scene. I’d never heard of the ship.

  “Yeah. And Chef Marty is going to be there. Last night I had a chance to talk with the pastry chef, Kelly Fields, and she, in a roundabout way, suggested that possibly Marty or Joaquin may have had an affair with Amanda.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Yeah. And, of course, Joaquin Vanderfield is the guy who the kitchen staff thinks had a reason to kill her.”

  I didn’t want to say that Amanda Wright could have slept with the entire staff. That’s not what Em would want to hear. Two of that elite kitchen staff didn’t seem overwhelming.

  “So, I wondered if you’d had a chance to look into Joaquin’s background or if you found out anything about Juan Castro, the dishwasher? Excuse me, former dishwasher. You have intimate knowledge of the most current dishwasher.”