Pies & Peril - Culinary Competition Mystery #1

Chapter 8

(Amy)

Amy tapped the disconnect button on her cell phone. Kevin wasn't home or wasn't answering the phone if he was there. It was two days after his wife's funeral. He wouldn't be back to work already, would he? She looked up Kevin's accounting office number and dialed.

"Pierce Accounting. This is Lucy. What can I help you with?"

At least somebody answered the phone, even though the voice sounded like it belonged to a little girl instead of an adult woman. Amy answered, "Hello. I used to work with Mandy Jo, so I made some dinners for Kevin, to help him during this awful time. I was wondering if you know where he is so I can drop them off."

"Awww, that's so sweet. He's here working. I know he doesn't have an appointment until this afternoon, so you could drop off whatever you've made this morning."

"That sounds wonderful. I'll be by in about an hour."

"Okey-dokey."

Had Kevin hired a high school co-op to manage the phones? Okey-dokey certainly wasn't professional secretary repertoire. Plus, she hadn't even asked for Amy's name. Alex's secretary looked like an evil grandmother. Her hair was always pulled into a tight, stainless steel colored bun. Every day she wore one of the plethora of three-piece power suits from the '80s that she owned. The woman could benefit from a few meetings with a wardrobe consultant, but she was proficient. Alex never complained about getting cryptic phone messages or surprise visitors.

Amy retrieved the stack of small, square aluminum pans from the freezer. She taped recipe cards with reheating instructions on each one. Kevin was a man, who was also shaken up by the sudden loss of his wife. Just providing one set of directions for half a dozen casseroles was a recipe for disaster. He would lose the instructions then probably end up complaining about how bad her cooking was because he didn't bake them properly. She plunked the frost-covered containers into a disposable foam cooler along with a couple of plastic bags filled with ice cubes. That was another thing. An unexpectedly, newly single man most likely wouldn't think to return things like dishes or ice packs. So she made sure everything was disposable. Geesh, she had barely said two words to the man and had already convinced herself she didn't like him.

When Amy walked through the door of Pierce Accounting half an hour later, she was positive she didn't like him. Judging from the earlier phone conversation, Kevin was more into appearances than skills. The painfully informal receptionist looked like she had stepped off the pages of a fashion magazine. Long dark hair, stunning blue eyes and disgustingly thin, despite munching on half a dozen sliders which she pulled out of a greasy bag printed with the Louie's Hamburgers logo. The small restaurant was somewhere between a dump and a dive, but was legendary for its tiny slider hamburgers. Amy avoided eating there because the onion covered gut bombs always left her with a case of heartburn that threatened to sear through her stomach wall. So Lucy, according to the small tent sign on the desk, clearly had an iron stomach and the metabolism of a cheetah.

Lucy talked on her cell phone in between licking grease off her fingers. The waiting room was so small Amy couldn't help but eavesdrop. Not that the oblivious woman seemed to care. The receptionist had just pointed at one of the sleek, black chairs in the reception area when Amy walked into the room. Apparently a customer was too much of a bother to interrupt the call. Pantomimed instructions to have a seat were sufficient for Kevin's receptionist. No speech needed.

"Tired of the games...glad it's all over...no more sneaking around."

Amy stared at the solitaire app on her phone's screen, trying to conceal her nosiness. It sounded like Lucy was having an affair. What man wouldn't want to play find the sausage under the sheets with the beautiful, raven-haired stick woman? Amy glanced up at the sound of a door opening. Kevin walked out of his office. His expression turned from a polite, business-like smile to a scowl. He glanced at Lucy, who had quickly signed off from her call, and his expression softened. She smiled and coquettishly tilted her head. The distraction worked. He now looked like a slobbery, overzealous puppy. "Kevin, I am so sorry for your loss," Amy said as she stood.