The Lady Sleuths MEGAPACK TM(32)

                I pulled open the door. It wasn’t a large refrigerator, but then it didn’t need to be because Pilar was so petite.

                I didn’t shut the door as I backed away and plowed into a pile of cast-off small appliances, sending it flying. Good thing. The racket silenced the entire studio for the split second it took me to get out a high-pitched wail. I added, “Help,” as I stumbled into the hall and slid down the wall outside the break room, my eyes bulging and glued to its doorway. From my seated position, I watched people move past me as if in slow motion. Their screams were strangely muffled.



                             Someone was at my elbow, urging me to stand. “Come on, Nonni, let’s get you away from here,” Mare said. She walked me to the far corner of the set. Skippy had produced a chair from somewhere, and they eased me onto it.

                “Put your head between your knees if you feel faint, honey,” Mare said.

                “Uh, uh.”

                “Shhh.” Mare tilted my head back and looked deep into my eyes. “You’re going to be okay. The police are on their way.” Then she and Skippy went to join the murmuring knot of people in shock outside the break room.

                I continued to process things in slow motion: Chef Clyde looking lost at the very back of the crowd, Emmett at the front, while our hand-held camera operator filmed everything. The camera was trained on Chef Clyde, but I didn’t think the chef noticed.

                “Everyone move back,” Emmett said as he gently pushed people. “The emergency crew will need to get a stretcher in there. The police will not take kindly to the way we’re trampling the crime scene.” Chef Clyde had already moved all the way over to where I sat.

                The camera operator continued to aim the lens at the chef, even though it required jockeying for position in order to shoot around the people filing back into the kitchen. I was about to say that something didn’t seem right about this, when someone in the lobby screamed, “Dead? Pilar’s dead?” startling everyone.

                The hand-held operator jerked her camera to the side for a fraction of a second.

                “Denise is a camera operator, too?” I inquired of no one in particular.



                             But Chef Clyde heard me and backed up against the storage racks, shouting, “That’s not a cam—that’s Denise. Emmett! Who let her in here?”

                Denise threw the camera down, and the room full of people gasped as one. She was moving toward the set side of the counter. I followed her gaze, realizing she was heading straight for the arsenal of knives. When I saw that Emmett was trying to head her off, but wouldn’t make it, I jumped out of my chair, grabbed the hot water faucet handle, and turned it for all I was worth. As soon as Denise got to the opposite side of the counter from me and put her hand on a knife handle, I aimed the hose and spewed the steaming water right into her ear. She screamed and flailed and crawled into a cupboard under the counter to escape. My hand was frozen. I couldn’t let go of the nozzle until a police officer came up beside me and turned off the spigot. I stared, hypnotized, as water continued to flow and drip from surfaces high and low. I kept staring, craning my head over my shoulder, as I was led away.

                * * * *

                Much of what happened after that was a blur. Best forgotten anyway. I heard that the Gastronomic Gambles folks delayed the filming of the competition indefinitely out of respect for Pilar.

                At Pilar’s memorial, Chef Clyde took responsibly for her death, explaining that Denise had apparently committed the murder to make him suffer. When killing Pilar didn’t derail his quest for the trophy, Denise planned to end him with his own deboning knife during the competition. Knowing his murder would be taped was the icing on the cake.