Page 98 of Murder By the Millions
Finette and Lillian shrieked.
And I bounded to my feet. “Call nine-one-one.”
CHAPTER20
“[Daisy has] got an indiscreet voice,” I remarked. “It’s full of—” I hesitated. “Her voice is full of money,” he said suddenly.
—Nick Carraway and Jay Gatsby in conversation in F. Scott Fitzgerald’sThe Great Gatsby
The electrical glitch didn’t trigger a fire. Blessed Bean didn’t burn down. Nobody got hurt. But my nerves were still on edge when I arrived home. I cuddled Darcy for a long time before heading to bed.
Friday morning, bright and early, I rose, stretched, threw on a pair of black capris and a white camp shirt, and fed the cat, and together we hurried to Dream Cuisine. I had bunches of sweets to make, as well as a couple of party platters for Legal Eagles.
I hadn’t had time to make myself a cup of coffee when Vanna swept into the ghost kitchen.
“Morning, Sunshine!” she said jauntily.
“Why are you in such a good mood?”
“Because I was up all night reading the best book.”
“I enjoyedThe Murder of Roger Ackroyd,too.”
“Not that one, silly.” She tossed her purse and silk cardigan on the table, strapped on an apron, slipped her hair into a chef’s cap, like I had, and washed her hands. “Hey, kitty,” she said to Darcy, who was lazing in his cat carrier. He meowed. “Are you going to the bookshop? You lucky thing. Freedom will be yours soon.”
He warbled his assent while butting his head against the zippered mesh cover.
“I readThe Great Gatsby,” she continued. “I couldn’t put it down. In addition to promising no dating advice for a year, Mother said it was imperative I read it if I was going to participate at the event. She said people would be asking my opinion on the story and theme.”
What a smart way to engage Vanna. Noeline knew her daughter would want to pontificate.
“What’re we making?” She eyed the ingredients I’d assembled on the island.
“Let’s taste test pasta pomodoro before we do all the baking for deliveries. Are you game?”
“Pasta for breakfast?” She wrinkled her nose.
“It contains all the food groups. Starch, fruit, and protein.”
“What protein?”
“Cheese.”
She jutted a hip. “Fine. Let’s do it.”
I brought the water to a boil and chopped the garlic while she blanched, peeled, seeded, and diced the Roma tomatoes I’d picked up at the farmers’ market.
“What did you think of Daisy?” I asked.
“Daisy was ridiculously stupid. How could she let Gatsby take the blame for running over the woman? Didn’t she realize her silence would be the end of him?”
“She didn’t let him take the blame. Her wicked husband insinuated it was Gatsby, and—”
“Whatever.” Vanna huffed. “As for Jay Gatsby, where do I begin? His sole motivation for making money was to win Daisy back? Honestly? She wasn’t worth it.”
I recalled how Patrick had taunted Jason, inferring that the notion of building a spectacular mall wouldn’t woo Delilah into his life. Had Jason truly believed she’d return? I clacked the knife on the cutting board.
“What’s wrong?” Vanna asked.
