Page 20 of Scripted for Love and Poison
Right, he was broke.
“Relax, I’ll also have a taste of that,” Chef Gill said, as if reading his mind, ladling some of the same soup into a small glass for herself. “And no, obviously I didn’t oversee allsixteen hundred plates being served. I had a team of ten cooks and an army of waiters working there with me that night.” She sipped delicately from the glass.
Any of them could have tampered with the food.
“Creamy,” he offered after tasting the subtle notes of artichoke but no spinach in the soup.
Chef García made a note in a big notebook, and Luke couldn’t avoid thinkingheshould be the one taking notes. And yet he’d completely forgotten about packing the most basic tools in his profession. In his defense, not in his wildest dreams had he imagined he’d have a case to solve and notes to take in Los Angeles.
“What about this one?” the chef asked about the greener of the soups. She also tasted it.
“Too much celery,” Luke offered after just one sip. “But it could be just me. Not a fan of celery.”
“Such a pity. You were showing so much potential,” Gill said with a slow, knowing grin.
“And there’s something else there, but I can’t place it,” he said, taking another sip and not minding the celery this second time around.
Gill gave him a teasing glance. “Secret ingredient, but I’d be willing to reveal it if you ask nicely.”
Luke ignored Gill’s insinuating gesture. “Any chance you know who in your team plated and served the food for Travis Wise?”
“Is that the dude who gotallegedlypoisoned? Nobody tells me anything around here,” Gill said, and Luke couldn’t help but feel the chef was extremely relaxed, considering she was being interviewed by a private detective and her reputation could be on the line. What chef wants to be associated with food intoxication?
“It is.” He confirmed Travis’s identity, which had been allover the news, as the event had been packed with journalists. So Chef García’s not knowing about it rang a bit improbable.
“You wouldn’t happen to know where he was sitting, right?” Gill said as she unlocked her cell phone and started looking for something.
“I do because I was also there. Table 13.”
“You were, huh? Fancy party you were attending.” Gill continued searching her phone, her tone laced with flirtatiousness.
“I was there with my partner. She’s a member,” Luke felt compelled to say. He had flirted his way out of many interviews before in the name of making progress and getting information but didn’t feel like that would be the right approach with this particular subject. For one, the chef was too willing to charm him, and he didn’t buy it.
“You are too hot to be off-limits. Tell me you’re not exclusive,” Gill continued, and even if Luke felt flattered, he couldn’t fully believe the overtness of the chef. Could she be concealing something from him, opting for such a distracting technique?
“Very much exclusive,” he said, the smile not quite reaching his eyes as he tried deciphering the woman in front of him and deciding whether she was hiding something and why.
“Try the third one while I find this,” Gill said, and Luke took a shot at the third glass of soup, the tastier by far and also bearing notes of something he couldn’t quite place. “It looks like I took care of table 13 personally and Travis Wise’s food in particular. As he reported a nut allergy.”
“You’re sure?” Luke said.
“It says so in the schedule for the day. And I always oversee personally all the food allergies,” Gill said. Luke feltgrateful she was finally answering questions and not trying to divert.
“And you don’t recall lacing Travis Wise’s food with a few drops of cyanide?” Luke asked, his most seductive smile now at play.
“I don’t.” Gill returned his gesture. Did he believe her?
“Who else could have touched the food that night?” Luke asked.
“From my team, you mean? Because anyone could have tampered with that food once it was placed on table 13. It looks like Travis didn’t start eating until two hours into the ceremony, and we served it before it started. So there was plenty of opportunity for others to touch the food.”
“I’m aware,” said Luke, and he was. “But how do you know Travis didn’t start eating until late in the ceremony?”
“Every adept whodunit fan out there knows cyanide poisoning symptoms occur within minutes of ingestion,” Gill said, smiling, and Luke preferred not to pry. “But you can talk to Vinny.”
“Vinny?” Luke finished the last of the soup from the third glass. “And this is definitely the winner for me.”
“I noticed you didn’t finish the other two,” Gill said. “Vinny Green. He was the waiter in charge of serving table 13. I’ll give you his contact details as he isn’t working today.”
