Topped Chef(22)

I could hear the smooth scrape of wood on polished wood as she opened the storage drawers under her bed. Hopefully she wouldn’t spend too much time in my little room—I hadn’t quite gotten her knack of keeping it pin neat.

“I’m not much of a cook.” Miss Gloria’s voice echoed out to the galley once they were back in the hall. “That’s Hayley’s specialty. You’ll see. But I do have a green thumb.” I heard the screen door open and then creak shut as she led him onto the back deck, which was chockablock with pots of herbs, a few tomato plants, and a jumble of palms and tropical flowers.

“This space is magical,” I heard him tell her.

When they returned to the galley, a little damp from the misting rain, Miss Gloria directed Lorenzo to a seat at our table. Both cats jumped up on the bench beside him and began to nuzzle him and purr.

“Go away, kitties,” Miss Gloria scolded.

“Never mind, I love cats,” said Lorenzo, flashing a big grin. “How can you live on this island if you don’t like cats and chickens?”

Miss Gloria beamed and settled a cup of hot tea in front of him, a plate of lemon slices and a jar of creamed honey on the side. “How did you end up here?” she asked.

He leaned forward, looking her in the eye. “There’s a powerful current that runs from the Bermuda Triangle, right around Mallory Square. I guess it pulled me in, like a lot of folks. And then once you get here, the island either embraces you or chews you up and spits you out. I was embraced!”

I checked Miss Gloria’s face to see how she was handling his “current” theory—she was mesmerized. I dished up bowls of steaming soup garnished with islands of crispy croutons and delivered them to the table. Sliding in next to Miss Gloria, I raised my water glass. “Bon appetit!”

“Delightful,” said Lorenzo, after sipping the soup.

“Hayley, this is heavenly,” said Miss Gloria. And to Lorenzo: “I told you she was a whiz in the kitchen.”

I thanked them and tasted my broth—spicy and rich, with a hint of the sea—and had to agree. A perfect dish for a gloomy day. As we slurped our way through the first bowl of soup, and then on to seconds, Lorenzo told Miss Gloria stories about running for Queen Mother in the yearly charity drag contest at the La Te Da.

“I appeared as Marlene Dietrich—and I won.”

“Congratulations! What did you wear?” asked Miss Gloria.

“A suit, of course. Women knew how to dress in those days.” He took a deep breath and began to sing with a German accent: “I often stop and wonder, why I appeal to men…”

“Falling in love again,” Miss Gloria warbled along with him in her reedy soprano.

Outside the boat, I could see our neighbor, Mr. Renhart, pausing on the dock in the rain, peering into our living room, looking puzzled. He never quite knew what to expect from us. I waved and smiled and he ducked his head and hurried on.

“Oh I bet you were marvelous, no wonder you won!” said Miss Gloria to Lorenzo, clapping her hands together.

“I can do Dietrich in my sleep,” said Lorenzo modestly. “I was the right girl—I had what it took.”

I hadn’t realized that Lorenzo was a part-time drag queen, though with his dramatic flair, it didn’t surprise me. But this turn in the conversation got me thinking about the Topped Chef candidate Randy Thompson—about his second career in entertainment and the TV show contest. And how nervous he seemed waiting for the cops. And what he’d blurted out about a lousy relationship with Rizzoli.

“Do you happen to know Randy Thompson?” I asked Lorenzo.

“Of course. He sings at the Aqua as Victoria. She’s got a beautiful voice,” said Lorenzo. “Why do you ask?”

“He’s a ‘cheftestant’ for the contest I’m helping to judge.” I sighed. “We’ve got problems over there—big ones.” Not wanting to upset Miss Gloria, I told them the bare details about Sam Rizzoli’s death, which was almost certainly a murder, and how the police had come around the Studios of Key West this morning and interviewed the contestants and judges.

“They wondered whether I’d noticed any conflict between Rizzoli and the other folks,” I added.

“Was there?” asked Miss Gloria.

I sighed again. “There was some friction among us judges over the food, but that seemed more staged than real, I think. And of course Rizzoli would have been happy to wring my neck for that restaurant review.” I heaved an even deeper sigh. “The three contestants we met this morning all seem really eager to win. Really eager.”