Read Online If Cooks Could Kill by Joanne Pence - Free Book Online Page B

“It’s not the business, it’s thecreativity we’re interested in, and that’s you . We’d like to start up our own line of festive and holiday cakes—some humorous, and all of them whimsical. The sort of thing you, we’ve been told, excel at.”
    She scooped up the foie gras and put it into a sauté pan with minced onions and butter. “What a nice compliment,” she finally managed to say, as she wiped her hands and stirred the mixture.
    â€œMiss Amalfi.” He was sounding exasperated. “You don’t understand. We were hoping you’d consider joining our team as a consultant as we start up this venture.”
    He was the one who didn’t understand! If the liver cooked much more than a minute it would become rubbery, and her plans to surprise Paavo ruined. “Excuse me, but—”
    â€œYou’ve had experience in what the public is looking for along these lines—very successful experience,” he continued. “Would you be willing to talk to us—”
    â€œMy liver is stiffening! I really must go.” Her head cocked further and further as the phone began to slip. She placed it on the counter, then hurried to remove the liver from the heat and put it into a bowl.
    â€œYour what? I’m not…anyway, Miss Amalfi, we’d love the opportunity to work with you, and we have an office right in San Francisco—”
    A handful of pistachios went into the Cuisinart and she turned it on High. As she began to sauté the ground meat, the nuts clattered loudly and the blender whirred.
    â€œHello? Miss Amalfi? What’s that strange noise? Hello? Hello?”
    Â 
    The Women’s Facility was an oppressive cement monolith. Max almost felt a pang of pity for Veronica’shaving spent three years there. Almost. A sour-faced female guard led him through security to the visitor’s area for the cellblock Ronnie had called home.
    He sat on a stool facing a thick glass wall with phones on both sides. After some ten minutes, a jailer led a young black-haired woman to a chair opposite his.
    â€œWho’re you?” the woman asked. Her acne-scarred face was hard and the glare she cast made it even fiercer.
    â€œI’m a friend of Veronica’s,” he said quietly. “I was supposed to meet her, but she isn’t at the hotel.”
    The woman eyed him suspiciously. “You Dennis?” she asked.
    Dennis? The past came at him in a rush. He wobbled dangerously on the stool, his head light and dizzy. After Veronica had been sent to prison, he’d gotten the impression that she’d once had an affair with Dennis, among others. He had no idea, though, that their relationship was at all serious, or that it had continued.
    Dennis had been one of his few clients who’d been kind to him and offered help. He’d thought it was because Dennis had considered him a friend. Now, he wondered if it wasn’t guilt.
    â€œI’m surprised,” he said finally. “I didn’t think she’d tell anyone my name. She must trust you a lot.”
    The woman shrugged. “Guess so.”
    He tried to look worried. “I waited all day yesterday for her. She was released yesterday, wasn’t she?”
    â€œYeah. Lucky bastard. Me, I got four more years here. She told me you’re rich. Can you do something for me? Help me get out?”
    â€œI’ll see what I can do. But first, I’ve got to find Veronica.”
    â€œWhy don’t you ask her PO?” she said.
    â€œI did. He didn’t know where she was either.”
    â€œShe said she was going to San Francisco, man. You should try her there. Isn’t that where you live? Maybe she’s at your place, waiting for you.”
    Maybe so, Max thought bitterly. He could imagine her there, with Pagozzi, laughing over what a lovesick fool he’d been. It shouldn’t be too hard to find Pagozzi’s home, to visit her