Murdered in the Gourmet Kitchen (Riley Reed Cozy Mysteries, Book 2) EXCERPT

Chapter 1

The play was called "The Ripper's Women." It was a parody of a most awful historical murder spree in Victorian England involving a serial killer and his prostitute victims. Only this time the tables were turned and the women had the so-called Jack the Ripper at their mercy and took turns paying him back in hilarious ways, much to the delight of the audience. Ironically, even the villain himself seemed to welcome the "punishment" dished out by the comely ladies dressed in period attire.

I turned to my friend, Josh Holden, who was tuned in to the performance. He was forty-one—three years my junior—and a physician with a successful general practice in Cozy Pines, Oregon, where we both lived. It was a quaint coastal town in Larosa County, less than 200 miles from Portland, the state's largest city.

Unlike me, who had never been married and was currently single, Josh was divorced. We met last year as members of an active book club, where he had stepped in to fill the shoes of his ex-wife Faith when she took a job in Connecticut. Though I didn't realize it at the time, Josh and I had found more common ground than books, such as the theater, musicals, running, and bicycling.

He had also taken an interest in my work as an interior design consultant, hiring me to create a plan to spruce up the nondescript lobby in his office. His satisfaction with the end result allowed me to bounce some ideas off him that I had in mind for other clients. I shared many of my thoughts and tips in a popular blog that covered various aspects of home décor that seemed to be a hit for my followers. I had a master's degree in interior design that had served me well professionally and in personal contacts I had forged over the years. Having been left a small inheritance by my parents allowed me just enough breathing room to pursue my talents comfortably while also getting the most out of my passions in life. Those included volunteer work and making charitable contributions to worthwhile causes that struck my fancy.

And, of course, plays—even though this particular one was a bit unnerving in taking a page out of history and turning it upside down.

I glanced over at Josh again. He faced me and offered a pleasant smile. I found him to be good looking, tall, and trim, with short blonde hair on the dark side and interesting gray eyes. He was dressed in semi-formal attire, as was I, in keeping up with expectations for the particular environment we were in. Though we enjoyed each other's company, right now things were strictly casual between us as we both had busy schedules that precluded us from taking things further at the moment. Who knew what the future held?

I gazed back at the performers and thoroughly enjoyed the rest of the play.

Afterward, we headed for a bite to eat at a bistro around the corner called Leopard's Den on this warm Saturday evening in early May.

"Hard to believe that Jack the Ripper actually existed once upon a time and terrorized those poor women of Whitechapel," Josh remarked, before biting into a corned beef sandwich.

"I agree," I told him over my roast beef on rye sandwich. "Unfortunately, it is part of London's history and the Ripper's victims really did feel the sting of his knife attacks."

"That's true," Josh said, wiping his mouth. "And if the Ripper was a physician, as many have speculated, it makes what he did all the more appalling."

I could see how the mere thought would rile Josh, considering his own medical career in which he always put his patients first and would never wish any of them harm.

I tried to soften the blow. "As I understand it, the Ripper could have been a butcher, mortuary assistant, or some other profession not bound by ethics, per se."

"You're right. Guess we'll never know who the madman was and what drove him to murder sex workers."

"At least the play allowed the killer to get his comeuppance in modern times," I noted.