Chopping Spree

us.” Bingo.

“Oh, no,” I replied hastily. “Never.”

“We’re… actually thinking of doing a big Fourth of July event. When the mall addition is finally open.”

“Fourth of July?” Nobody wants prime rib on the Fourth; they want barbecue. Besides, a three-month stay in my freezer would burn that beef to toast. And did Westside’s management really think the addition wouldn’t be done until summer?

“Look, Mrs. Schulz.” Eakin’s voice indicated he was backtracking, hopefully the length of his entire frigging mall. “I… I promise you’ll be the caterer for our next event.”

That sounded fair to me, I said. I thanked Eakin and hung up.

I frowned at the marble counter, trying to think. Yes, the full payment from Westside had been deposited, and yes, I had all this food left over, but I didn’t like having a big event canceled, even if the cancellation wasn’t my fault. I wondered if it was possible that Westside had canceled for a reason other than the one Rob Eakin had given. Maybe the new mall management didn’t want to have anything more to do with Goldilocks’ Catering, what with my assistant jailed on suspicion of murdering their manager.

The phone rang again.

“It’s Ellie,” my friend announced.

“Are you OK?”

She sighed. “Cameron and I are at the Westside Suites. You know it?”

“Yes.” The Westside Suites, not far from Westside Mall, were the closest thing to a luxury hotel that Furman County offered. “You called the police, I take it?”

She snorted. “I had to…I’m a suspect in a murder case, remember? Even though they have Julian in jail, somebody in the sheriff’s department or county attorney’s office thinks ‘the cuff-link lady,’ as they now refer to me, had something to do with Barry’s death. In a couple of hours, they’re coming over here to ask me some more questions.”

“Better phone a lawyer.”

“That’s my next call.”

“Please take care of yourself, Ellie.”

“I’m trying.” She hesitated. “Thanks for being such a great friend, Goldy.”

“I’m trying to be just that,” I told her firmly.

After we signed off, the phone rang yet again. I couldn’t handle any more bad news, so I ignored it. The phone rang and rang. The sound reverberated dully in my head. Our machine finally picked up. The message was long. I couldn’t face it just yet.

Time for some coffee and positive thoughts, I reflected resolutely. I pressed the buttons on two machines: the espresso and answering ones. Dark, life-giving caffeine swirled into a green Italian demitasse cup Tom had given me, while Liz Fury’s voice on my answering machine announced that the wedding reception had gone well. Her daughter Kim had brought her van back, and now she, Liz, had just dropped Kim off with her new Boulder housemates. If I needed any special food supplies—Boulder was a mecca for gourmet goodies, and she was just leaving—I could reach her on her cell phone. Otherwise, she’d be back by nine to help with the Stockhams’ lunch.

Just what I needed: more food! But it was good of Liz to call. She and I needed to have some face time, no question about it. We’d had a bit of a spat at the end of the mall event, and of course I was going to pay her for her work that evening, plus double her regular fee for bailing me out with the wedding reception. But we had to talk. Without implying anything, without being rude, I needed to know how my new assistant—who’d appeared to be flirting with Barry Dean in our final strategy meeting—really felt about the man who’d barred and then forcibly evicted her shoplifting son from the mall. Had she actually had a date after the event? Or had she canceled so she could go off to find Teddy? What had happened with Teddy? And how had Liz gotten home, since she had no vehicle at the mall?

Worst of all, I thought, as Liz’s recorded voice continued to speak, was this question: Had Liz been so furious with Barry that she’d stabbed him to death? I shook my head. No way.

Still, there was lots to find out at a single catering event. I booted up the menu for Shane Stockham’s capital investors’ lunch. Liz’s recorded voice kept droning on. It had been snowing in Golden to beat hell, she didn’t think that would slow her up, we needed to think about Easter ham dinners to make in advance for big clients….

She stopped talking for a moment. The recorded buzz of empty cell-phone communication filled my kitchen.

“Teddy’s disappeared,” Liz said abruptly. “Oh, Goldy, he took his mittens but not his damned boots!” Sobbing, she hung up.

I slammed down some of the espresso—hot, powerful, and just what I needed—then dialed Liz on her cell. She answered before the end of the first ring.

“Liz, it’s Goldy, and you’re going to be fine,” I reassured her. “Your son is seventeen. He’ll survive without boots.”

“Goldy, you don’t understand.” Her voice cracked. “After I… found him Monday night at a fast food place, I called the cops, the way I’d promised back when he was… first trespassed from the mall. I said I’d keep track of where he was every minute—”

“Wait. You mean the security guys didn’t call the cops to get him hauled off somewhere?”

“I guess they tried, but the sheriff’s department told the security guys to release him outside the mall. I suppose they did that, because when I went into the security office to find Teddy, the guards told me my son had told them he’d go to McDonald’s. And the cops would contact me later. Which they did, but not until late Monday night. They…came to see me about Barry, asked a bunch of questions about where I was when, where Teddy was when, that kind of thing. Before they left, they told me I had to keep track of Teddy all the time.”

“Good Lord.” Confused, I guzzled more espresso. “So. What did happen after you left us Monday evening?”

“I told you.” A hint of exasperation wended into her voice. “I went to the security office, then walked to the McDonald’s near Westside, and Teddy was there, chowing down. He had my little car, remember, and I drove him home. Yesterday, while I was doing the wedding reception, he snuck out! He didn’t even have a car! I thought maybe he was with friends, but then he didn’t come home.” She stopped and gasped for breath. “Before he left, he… he put on his ski mittens that he always leaves by the front door. Then he nabbed one of my… of my carving knives. He proceeded to pick-ax his way into a batch of credit cards that I’d frozen in a plastic container of ice at the back of our freezer.”

“Oh, no…”

“He didn’t take his boots, so he wasn’t going snow-boarding. I know where he was going,” she continued, her voice bitter. “Shopping. And before you ask, yes, I canceled the cards. A couple of them, anyway. I think there were about eight in there, and all I could remember were the Visa and Saks Fifth Avenue—”

“You don’t have to work today,” I interjected. “I can manage, I promise.” This wasn’t true, of course. With Julian in jail and my body somewhat the worse for the nighttime excursion to the portable toilet, I really did need Liz. But she was hurtling over a much larger bump on the motherhood road than anything I’d been dealing with lately.

“No, I’ve got to work,” she protested, her tone urgent. “I can’t just wait for him to call, I’ll go nuts. The cops have my cell phone number. They swore they’d call if Teddy showed up… or got caught. God, I feel awful!”

“As soon as you get here, I’ll fix you some breakfast. I’ll be fine on prepping the lunch.” Better than fine, I thought. I’d just had an idea.

“Goldy, you’re the best. And I haven’t even asked how you’re doing.”

I thought I could say I’d been feeling pretty crappy, but that seemed tactless. “Everything’s fine. Well, not really. Tom told you Julian’s been arrested.”

“And I told him how bad I felt. How’s Julian doing?”

“Not too good. Liz…I thought you had a date or something with Barry after the party.” When she snorted, I said, “Do you know anything about Barry’s social life? I guess I mistook your…chat with him at our planning meeting as, I don’t know, interest.”

She guffawed. “No! I didn’t have a date, although I thought a judge I’d gone out with might show up at the