“You’re welcome, it was certainly interesting.” I laughed. Aggravating, annoying, infuriating, demeaning—those were the words I’d have used if I didn’t want something from her.
“I know you were somewhat disappointed about the results, but we’re only grateful that it went off without a hitch today. That threat really rattled us,” she said. “You probably couldn’t tell, but Peter was a wreck. We’re all relieved that the only misadventure was that crazy drag-queen friend of Randy’s rushing the set. I’m so relieved that everyone’s safe.”
“That was Randy’s friend?” I asked.
“He works and sings with him at the Aqua,” Deena said.
This made sense—Randy was the kind of guy who would inspire rabid loyalty. Another reason why he would have made a magnificent Topped Chef. “Now that it’s over, I’ve been wondering,” I said. “How did you choose the judges?”
Deena cleared her throat. “Peter asked me to recommend some people since I’ve been living here awhile and he’s not local. From those names, he chose the final panel.”
“But what were the criteria?” I asked. “There are so many foodie writers and chefs in town. Who made the short list?”
“Not everyone could give up a week during their busy season,” she said. “You know what it’s like in January on this island. So having the ability to take time off was critical. Since Wally was enthusiastic about the idea of a story for Key Zest, you were a shoo-in. And Peter wanted folks whose opinions wouldn’t be overwhelming, but who would demonstrate their knowledge about food clearly.”
“Rizzoli and Chef Adam hardly fit into the category of not having strong opinions,” I said.
She laughed. “The results weren’t perfect. First I thought of Toby Davidson. She has the foodie background because of her baking blog and the cookbooks she’s written. And the memoir, of course. But I’d seen her give presentations; she seemed a little timid.”
“You were looking for timid?”
Deena was quiet for a moment. “I didn’t mean it that way. Peter wanted some people on the panel who would be open to considering other points of view. I think that’s how he said it.”
My phone buzzed with an incoming call. From Mrs. Rizzoli.
“I have to run. Thanks for telling me the truth. We’ll get together soon, okay?” Although if I didn’t see her for a while, that would feel perfectly fine, too.
I accepted the other call. “Hello?”
“Hayley, it’s Deborah Rizzoli. I’ve been debating whether to call you, but I decided you deserve to know the truth. I wasn’t completely honest about my husband’s relationship with Randy Thompson.” She sighed, and then I heard a little clicking noise and imagined her tapping her perfect nails on the phone. “It’s embarrassing to admit this, but I think Sam had a little crush on him. It pains me even more to say this, but I think they may have had an affair.”
“Randy and your husband?” I asked, dumbfounded. I couldn’t believe she’d call to tell me this. Was she lying? What would be the point?
“Sam had eclectic tastes,” she admitted. “He loved drag bars. The gay pride parade. And Fantasy Fest. He had a collection of amazing costumes and wigs and makeup that he kept on his boat. That was a side of him I didn’t care to know that much about. But we’ve been over there cleaning things out so I can put the damn tub up for sale.”
Hard to know how to respond to that. Now I truly felt sorry for her. “I’m sorry for what you’re going through,” I said, and then added: “Anything else I should know?”
“Well, you should know that he acted on his grudges. He wouldn’t hesitate to wield his influence if someone crossed him.” She cleared her throat. “If someone he was interested in ceased to be interested in return.”
I tried to puzzle out what she was implying. Then it hit me like a fiery mouthful of Chef Stentzel’s jalapeño pepper. “Meaning that if Randy ended things, your husband might have done something like set his eviction in motion?”
“Something like that,” she said. “It’s possible. Well look, Randy had a sweetheart of a deal because he’d lived in his apartment so long. Though to be fair, he had put a lot of his own money into fixing the place up. It’s absolutely gorgeous. Our agent will be able to rent it for twice what Randy was paying.”
Once she’d signed off, my mind spun thinking about the kind of pressure Rizzoli might have put on Randy. Housing on this island is super-expensive. He’d be in despair about losing his nest. And even more anxious to land the TV show contract. But would you kill someone over losing an apartment?