Page 7 of Wham Line

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For several seconds, I didn’t say anything.And then I decided to gamble.

“You followed him into the kitchen,” I said.

Sparkie gave me a more considering look.Finally, she said, “I did.And I followed him out into that filthy alley and ruined a pair of heels.”She displayed the shoes, which were stained with the same filth as my Mexico 66s.“But I didn’t shoot him.”A little pause, and then slightly too casually: “I don’t suppose you saw anything while you were out there?”

I chose to ignore that question.“Whydidyou follow him?”

“Mal and I have—had—an unusual relationship.”

“What does that mean?”

Sparkie tittered again.“Not like that.The divorce happened years ago, and we’re friends now.We move in the same circles.We have to be amicable.”

“Is that why you’re here?”

“No, no, no.I’m here because I’ve got a fantastic idea for a restaurant, and Mal would be perfect for this project.”

“Like, as the chef?”

“Mal?Oh God, no.He’s not a chef; he couldn’t boil water.He’s an investor.A restaurateur.”A dark edge entered her voice.“And trust me, I’d go into it with both eyes open, not like a certain chef who thinks so highly of herself.”

“Talmage?”

Sparkie threw me a smile I was sure was meant to be charming, but her next words jarred me back to high alert.“You didn’t see anything when you found Mal, did you?The murder weapon?Footprints?Anything?Did it look like he’d been robbed?”

Indira, standing under the eave, her gun in her hand.

Somehow, I said, “I don’t know.I was only out there for a few seconds.What did you mean, you wouldn’t be like Talmage?”

“Mal’s a shark,” Sparkie said airily.“He invests in a business.If it’s successful, more often than not he finds a way to make sure he’s the one who walks away with all the money.There are some chefs in Seattle who’ll tell you all about how Mal stole their life’s work if you buy them a drink.”

“That doesn’t seem possible,” I said.“How does he get away with it?”

“Lots of ways.Sometimes, the investment is a loan with ridiculous repayment terms.Sometimes, he’s got a buyout clause in the contract.You’ve got to remember, most chefs don’t care about business stuff; all they want is to have their own restaurant.So, they’ll sign whatever you put in front of them.I know a couple of chefs who got fired when Mal was tired of them.They thought they were owners right up until he pulled out the paperwork.Let me tell you, it took Mal a few years to get it right—at the beginning, he ran his first few investments into the ground.Awful stuff.One of the chefs killed herself.But eventually, he perfected the art of making money off other people.”

“Sounds like you know a lot about it.”

“If you work in the industry long enough, you’ll cross paths with him, or somebody he stabbed in the back.Everybody who ever met Mal wanted to kill him.Everybody.”The charming smile was back now, and she’d ramped it all the way up tokill mode.“I know what you’re thinking.”

I raised my eyebrows.

“Ididn’t kill him,” Sparkie said, smile sharpening.

“I didn’t say you did.”

Sparkie opened her purse and removed a small tin.She opened it and applied some sort of balm or ointment to her cracked lips.“You saw Talmage with him tonight.Larry hates his guts.And poor Jethro’s his personal doormat.”

“Who’s Jethro?”

“Tall kid.”Sparkie pointed across the room.The young man I’d seen earlier stood there, still wearing the jacket Mal had given him (damp now from the rain), talking to the chef—Talmage—and the sallow-faced man with the bristly hair—presumably Larry.“Bad skin.Sweet kid, but he’s an absolutely terrible personal assistant.He gets me confused with another of Mal’s exes all the time.”

I barely heard her.

Mal and Jethro standing near the kitchen doors.Mal holding the younger man by the arms in a way that seemed, at best, too familiar.Mal slipping out of his jacket, pressing it on the boy.And my own thought, in that moment, that some men liked younger partners.

It wouldn’t have been the first time that a boss’s sexual advances built to a fatal conflict; even puppies bit back eventually.

Or—