A Corpse in the Soup (4 page)

“Go ahead, Caesar. You can trust us.” Godiva leaned toward him.

“Well, for the last few months little ‘accidents’ have been happening on the set during the show. Hot pepper in the shaker instead of paprika, salt in the sugar. You know, stuff like that. Nothing dangerous. Just pranks. Childish pranks. God bless those tasters from my audience. They tried to look like nothing was wrong. But, like I just said, it’s getting worse and worse...”

“Aha!” Flossie’s index finger waved in the air. “When I watched your show a few weeks ago, just before the commercial I saw that man seize up and fall right off his chair.”

“You’re right, Flossie. Thank God the poor fellow was okay and we were able to cut to an ad right away. It was really awful. It turned out that there was hot pepper oil in the clam sauce. You couldn’t see it, but just one mouthful was so strong the poor guy actually passed out.”

“Who could have done such things? Someone in your studio?” The wrinkles in Flossie’s face deepened.

“That’s what I keep asking myself. At first I even thought it might be Candy, but then things kept happening after she left the show. When I heard Wellington hired her, I could hardly believe it. That weasel would do anything to ruin my reputation.”

Goldie crossed her arms over her chest. “So, are you saying you think Candy or Biff, or maybe both of them, had something to do with those mushrooms that almost killed my sister?”

Godiva gave her a warning glance with a clear message.
Don’t scare him off. I want him.

Romano’s eyes narrowed, becoming cold, knife-like slivers. “I don’t know what to think, Goldie. But, I swear, if anything else goes wrong I’ll kill that bastard.”

Godiva barely heard his angry threat. She was thinking of her answer to that letter:

Dear Baste or Bail,

Wise up, Kiddo. Your infatuation with this older man will buy you a one-way ticket to Heartbreak Hotel. Get your head out of the clouds and move on.

“...so what do you think, Godiva?” Goldie’s voice brought her out of her reverie.

“Huh?”

“I was saying, maybe Caesar isn’t so far off base. There are so many unanswered questions. Why all the pranks? And the poison mushrooms? Why did Candy Vanderloop leave so abruptly? What do you think?”

She batted her lashes at Caesar. “I simply can’t imagine why anyone would want to cause such trouble for this charming man.” She gave Romano a playful smile. “Do you
really
think that Candy or Wellington would actually risk people’s lives just to ruin your reputation?”

Romano shrugged his shoulders. “Who knows? Maybe I am just being paranoid.”

They stood in the marble foyer. Romano held both of Godiva’s hands in his and planted a kiss on each one. “I’ve had a wonderful evening. I can’t tell you what it has meant to me to finally have people I can talk to.” He turned to Goldie and kissed her hand also.

“And, Chili, I will see you at the studio tomorrow at nine a.m., sharp! I can’t wait to introduce you on Friday’s show. Such a charming girl; you’ll leave Candy in the dust!”

CHAPTER 8

“Silver Spoon Antiques, if it ain’t old, we ain’t got it.”

Goldie settled back in the kitchen chair. “Rudy, I’ve got great news. Chili got a job on a TV cooking show, can you believe it?”

“You ain’t tellin’ me nuthin’ new, Goldilocks. I already heard the news from your old gossip of a mother-in-law. Belle was in here not more than fifteen minutes ago gushin’ an’ gigglin’ and telling me all about her celebrity granddaughter. By now everyone in Juneau’s heard the news.”

“Belle was pretty excited when Chili called her last night.” Goldie smiled at the thought of her two-hundred-pound mother-in-law doing a lively jig while she talked to Chili on the phone.

“I’ll bet ol’ Red wasn’t all that happy. He’s losin’ a mighty fine kitchen helper.”

“Well, he had mixed emotions, but sous chefs are a dime a dozen and it’s not every day your daughter launches a television career.”

“Let me guess—this was Godiva’s doing, wasn’t it?”

“Well...I have to admit she did help a teensy bit...”

“And now she’s got Chili and you don’t.”

“Well, I was a little upset at first, but really, Rudy, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity for her.”

Rudy’s voice was gruff with emotion as it came across the line. “We’ll see. If you ask me, I hate to see our little habanera struttin’ around on some sissified chow show. That smooth talkin’ Chef better not turn her into no Hollywood showgirl.”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Rudy, Chili’s not so easily corrupted. But listen, you do have to help me out. I’ve decided not to come home yet. I’ll stay here for a week or so and then go on my buying trip from here. You’ll have to close up the shop without me this year.”

“Yes’m, Goldie. I s’pose you want me to bundle up that worthless feline and drop him off to Belle, too.”

“You’re a good old geezer, Rudy. Just button up the shop on Saturday, and have a great trip. Kiss your mom for me when you get to Texas.”

“Okay, but I worry about you gettin’ into trouble down there in Hollywood. You know it’s a wicked place.”

“I promise, I’ll lay low and mind my own business. There’s nothing to worry about, everything will be just fine.”

But she was wrong and Rudy was right.

CHAPTER 9

Biff Wellington raised his cleaver and whacked the head of cabbage so hard that half of it sailed off the cutting board.

“Monday’s performance was crap! When I hired you, I thought I was getting a real pro. What language do I have to speak to get it through your thick blonde skull?” He took another shot at the decimated cabbage. Thunk! “OK, let’s go through it one more time. You look into the camera, got that? Then, just like you did with that idiot Romano, you turn and wiggle your sexy ass for the male viewers. At least that’s one thing you know how to do.”

Candy Vanderloop nodded at Biff, trying to ignore the tears of anger welling in her eyes. He’d called her beloved Chef Romano an idiot!

“Then, Blondie, you get the hell out of my way, understand? I’m the star!” The aerobic chef stretched suggestively, causing his tight tee shirt to show off his marvelous chest, flat abs and trim waist. “Those dopey broads watch my show for this. They couldn’t care less about the recipes.” The snarling bulldog on his shirt seemed to smile as the fabric stretched.

He flexed his muscles again for Candy’s benefit as he brushed past her, nearly knocking her over. She had heard he was temperamental and conceited, but this was ridiculous. He was downright abusive.

Wellington appeared to have second thoughts as he turned back to Candy. “Listen, kid. So I’m an asshole, but I’m going to make you rich and famous. That old fart Romano will wish he’d hung on to you. Just wait and see, we’ll cream him in the Kitchen Coliseum.”

Candy managed a tentative smile, realizing that now he probably was trying to butter her up so she wouldn’t walk out before the tournament. Biff lifted her chin and continued his phony pep talk.

“Come on. You know it’s always tough getting used to working with someone new, but that over-the-hill lover boy will lose. I’ll demolish him. Besides, without you helping him, he’ll have to work solo.”

“Uh, that’s not exactly correct, Mr. Wellington.”

Candy turned to gape at a gangly young man who had come in while Wellington was ranting at her.

“What’s not correct?” Wellington barked. “And by the way, string bean, you’re in my way. Don’t you have something else to do?”

“Mr. Wellington, my name isn’t String Bean, it’s Chris Cross and since I’m your gofer I’m waiting for you to give me something to do. What I was trying to say is that I have it from a good source that Romano won’t be working alone.”

“What do you mean? Candy’s sweet little ass is wiggling on my show now so I’m afraid poor old Romano will be lifting his own ladles for a while. That is, if the old boy can lift anything.”

“Of course Candy’s on your show now, Mr. Wellington. But, like I said, I heard that Chef Romano has replaced her already. One of my friends works for his publicist.”

“That’s a load of bull!” Wellington bellowed.

“Wait, wait. Don’t shoot the messenger. James, he’s my friend, saw some of the publicity shots. They’re going to do a real media blitz on the new girl. He said she’s a drop-dead gorgeous redhead. No offense to you, Miss Vanderloop. I definitely think you’re gorgeous. But, Mr. Wellington, one thing is sure. Chef Romano won’t be working alone!”

Candy stared at the Aerobic Chef who was slowly turning as red as the beets he was now slicing for his signature Heart Beet salad. “That damned Romano! This time I’ll get him good. You’re supposed to be my gofer, kid. Well, here’s something for you to ‘go for’. I want to know everything you can find out about her.” Wellington snorted, “Gorgeous redhead, my ass! This is war. And, Gofer Boy, I want you to find out what he’s preparing for Friday’s show, too. If you want to keep your job, you’ll get me his menu by tomorrow morning, got it?”

He scraped the beet slices into a stainless steel bowl. “And by the way, kid, you’re really puny looking. If you want to keep working for me you’re going to have to buff up. I have a reputation to protect and I can’t be surrounded by anemic-looking weaklings.”

He continued wielding his blade with a vengeance, mumbling obscenities under his breath, oblivious of everyone around him. Chris shrugged his shoulders and smiled at Candy with a conspiratorial wink as he slipped out the door.

CHAPTER 10

After another performance at the Home for Hollywood Has-Beens, Sterling hustled Waldo the Wonder Dog into the back seat of his 1959 Cadillac. Flossie made herself comfortable in the two-tone tuck-and-roll front seat as Sterling piloted his pride and joy, complete with rocket ship fins and old-fashioned white sidewalls, down Sunset Boulevard toward Beverly Hills.

“Sterling, what was it that Darla Darling mentioned this afternoon when I was bragging to her about Chili’s new job?” Flossie scrunched her brow. Her beloved Harry had always warned her that frowning would give her lines, but Harry was gone now and at eighty years old, who cared about an extra line or two?

She finally started to remember. At the mere mention of Chef Romano, the old tap dancer had acted like a love struck schoolgirl, her painted red lips forming a crooked sweetheart smile. With her dyed black curls bobbing around her chubby face, she said something—but what was it?

Flossie snapped her fingers and pulled at Sterling’s sleeve, completely forgetting he was driving in the congested traffic on Sunset Boulevard. Sterling hit the brakes. “Hey, Flossie—cut it out! What’s so important? I’m tryin’ ta drive here!” Waldo wailed in the back seat. It sounded like, “
slow...go...slow
”.

“Sterling, Darla watches all those food shows. She saw Caesar’s old helper, Candy Vandersomething, on that awful Biff Wellington’s show and was worried about her. What was it she said?”

“Flossie, your elevator doesn’t run all the way to the top floor anymore. Don’t ya remember? The old doll told us a whole story about how years ago she was the Polka Queen at some big accordion festival up north...”

“Oh, that’s right.”

“She said while she was up on stage dancing, the Accordion King’s son, a real bully about ten years old, beat up her little boy for no reason and broke his leg. Kid wound up in the hospital.”

“What did that have to do with her being afraid for Candy?”

“Oh, Flossie. Think. The accordion player’s name was Wellington. The bully’s name was Biff.”

“
Oy vey!”

Now Flossie was really worried and no amount of scoffing by Sterling could calm her down. This was something to discuss with the girls.

They all sat at the kitchen table sipping tea while Flossie finally got to the point of her story.

“Goldie, Godiva, indulge your poor old mother. Darla said she was worried about that girl Candy just because she was working for Wellington. Then she told us about her son’s broken leg, so I began to wonder. If a kid is that dangerous at ten...?”

Godiva patted Flossie on the arm. “Mom, I think you’re just being one of those overprotective Jewish mothers. Come on. Admit it.”

“Me? Overprotective? What if he turns out to be a murderer, or worse? It couldn’t hurt to take a nice little trip up north to that town where he grew up. We really need to know what makes this guy tick. You can learn a lot about someone by asking questions in their home town and no one is better at getting people to talk than you girls.”

“But, Mom...” Godiva fiddled with the wristband on her Rolex.

Flossie was determined to get her way. “I know, I know, you’re going to tell me how busy you are playing G.O.D. Well, I’ve got news for you, Miss High and Mighty, even He took a day off.”

“Going all the way up to Northern California will take a couple of days. That’s crazy. I’m buried in mail. You want me to drop everything and take a
nice little drive
up to some one-horse town I’ve never heard of just because you’ve got one of your premonitions?”

Godiva saw the stubborn set of her mother’s mouth and the way her chin was tipped up in defiance. They’d never been able to change Flossie’s mind as kids, and they wouldn’t be able to now. Nothing had changed in all these years except that this time Goldie joined forces with Flossie because she was worried about Chili.

“Look, Godiva. I had a bad feeling when Chili agreed to be on Caesar’s show. After all, like Mom said, Mars-Saturn-Pluto was under the influence of Neptune...I’m so worried that something terrible might happen.”

“That’s just bunk, Goldie. I don’t see why I should...”

Then Goldie hit home. “Of course, you’re probably worried about Caesar now that you’ve decided to set your hook in him. So, if we both work on your mail, you can get a couple of days ahead.”

Flossie zeroed in for the kill. “Besides, while you were having a manicure, Goldie and I looked up that town on the map, and, well, go ahead, Goldie, tell her what we found.”