Stacie Roebuck was a slight woman of around Odelia’s age. She had half-long auburn hair and was wearing green-framed glasses, accentuating the jade in her eyes. There were also dark rims under those same eyes, adding substance to her words that she was indeed bone-tired. Which didn’t surprise Odelia.
“Don’t mind the mess,” Stacie said apologetically. “It’s been a hectic couple of days, as you can imagine.”
Odelia looked around the room but saw no mess to speak of. Through the open door of the bedroom she could see some clothes strewn around in there, but the living room was perfectly spotless, which told her Stacie hadn’t been in much. A laptop was open on the desk, and a neat pile of cookbooks—all authored by Niklaus Skad—were stacked next to the laptop, but otherwise there was absolutely no clutter.
The dog came over to her and pressed his nose into her hand. “He’s sweet,” she said with a smile. “Is he yours?”
“He is now,” said Stacie with a tired smile. “His name is Puck, and he belonged to Niklaus. I’ve decided to adopt him.”
“I’m sorry to have to ask you this,” she said, “but do you have any idea what happened?”
Stacie shook her head. She was dressed in a purple sweater and sweatpants and sat at the edge of the sofa, Odelia right across from her. “I hadn’t seen Niklaus since that morning. He’d done a taping at the restaurant and then decided he needed the day off. He said he’d spend it at the pool, or maybe at the beach, so I knew not to bother him.”
“Did you also take the day off?”
“Oh, no,” said Stacie with a laugh. “Niklaus hardly ever let me take the day off. There was always something that needed to be done.”
“So what did you do?” asked Odelia, hoping her line of questioning wasn’t too abrupt. She sometimes wished she had her uncle’s flair for asking the right questions. He had a knack for putting people at ease.
“I stayed at the restaurant, setting up the next taping.” She gestured with her hand. “There were some fires to put out—the chef…” Her voice trailed off, as she was aware there were certain things better left unsaid in front of a reporter.
“I’m not going to print any of this,” Odelia said, “if you don’t want to. What I want most of all is to find out what happened—who did this to Niklaus.”
The assistant nodded. “Niklaus Skad wasn’t the easiest man to work for. He had a habit of rubbing people the wrong way. It was his style—the thing he was known for—and the main reason people watched the show. They liked the abrasiveness. And the drama. The conflict and the outbursts. The way he humiliated people.” She paused, bringing a trembling hand to her face, ineffectually pushing at her hair and then dropping it in her lap.
“I know this is hard for you,” Odelia said, scooting forward.
“It’s fine. It’s just… There was a huge row during the taping, so I spent a big chunk of the day trying to put out the fire. The chef was so undone he told everyone he’d quit, and the owners were threatening to pull out of the show. It didn’t help matters that I had to point out to them they’d signed a contract and that they couldn’t cancel even if they wanted to.”
“Looks like Niklaus liked to stir the pot and left you to pick up the pieces.”
“That’s exactly what he did.”
“That can’t have been much fun.”
“No, it wasn’t.” She glanced at Puck, who’d put his head in her lap and was gazing up at her with his sad dog eyes. She placed a hand on the dog’s head and smiled. “I think it’s safe to say that neither me or Puck are very sorry that Niklaus is gone.” She looked up in alarm. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. That was massively unprofessional of me.”
“No, it’s fine,” said Odelia. “I’ve heard the stories. I’ve seen the shows. It must have been tough on you.”
“Yes, it was. Probably the hardest job I’ve ever had. And the longest three years of my life.”
“You worked for him for three years?”
Stacie nodded. “Everybody said I was crazy to stay. All his other assistants had walked out after only a couple of months—or weeks. But there was something special about Niklaus Skad. He might have been a demanding boss—and not a very nice one—but I admired him for what he’d achieved. He built an entire empire—a complete brand—all by himself and in record time. I couldn’t help but have a lot of respect for him as a businessman. As a person? Not so much.” She tickled Puck behind the ears. “For one thing, he wasn’t very nice to Puck. And I resented that. Humans can defend themselves, but dogs can’t.”
“I agree,” she said. “I hate people who are mean to animals.”
“Me, too,” said Stacie with a sad smile. “I just can’t tolerate them.”
“So… where were you when Mr. Skad died, Stacie? I’m sorry—I have to ask.”
“Of course. I was right here, preparing for the next day’s shoot. That’s what I usually did at night. Making sure that everything was ready for the next day. So that Niklaus just had to walk on set and do his thing.”
“Can anyone confirm that you were here?”
“Nope. Not even Puck. He was still locked up in Mr. Skad’s suite.” She gave Odelia a hesitant look. “Do you think the police will suspect me?”
“I think you’ll be one of the suspects, yes.”
She nodded. “Of course. I had the motive to kill him. And I certainly had opportunity. Though I had no idea he returned to the restaurant. Usually when we were out on location he liked to stay in his room and…” She grimaced. “… invite company.”
“Female company?”
“Yes. He liked to go out and, well, sample the local offerings.”
“Why do you think he went back to the restaurant? Maybe he wanted to prepare for the next day?”
She shook her head adamantly. “No way. Niklaus never bothered with that. He even told me once he stayed far away from the restaurants he was doing. He wanted to arrive on the scene with fresh eyes and go with his gut. He didn’t want to overthink things. Visiting a restaurant the night before a shoot was something he’d never do.”
“So you have no idea why he returned?”
“None.”
She eyed the woman curiously. She was slight. Too slight to be able to lift the body of her boss up and into the oven. If she were the murderer she would have needed help. No way she could have done this alone. “Thank you, Stacie.”
“You’re welcome. I suppose the police will want a word with me?”
“Yes, I’m afraid they will. But don’t worry. My uncle is a kind and fair man.”
“Your uncle is a policeman?”
“Yes. He’s Chief of Police.”
They both rose, and Stacie stood hugging herself for a moment. “I hope he catches whoever did this. I would like to go home and put this whole thing behind me as soon as possible.”
“I’m sure we’ll catch the culprit soon,” she said, projecting a confidence she wasn’t exactly feeling. So far they had nothing. Unless this Chef Serarols proved to be a viable suspect. Her uncle certainly seemed to think so. “What was your impression of Hendrik Serarols?”
“He seemed nice enough. I think he’s a great chef, and he only made those mistakes because Niklaus was giving him such a hard time. It’s not easy to perform under such great pressure.” She gave a weak smile. “I speak from experience.” Her smile vanished. “Why? Do you think he did it?”
“He doesn’t have an alibi for the night of the murder, so…”
“I can’t believe he would do such a thing. But then again, I guess everybody is capable of murder, even the ones you least suspect.”
“That is certainly true,” she agreed.
From the corner of her eye, she saw that Max was frantically trying to get her attention. So she walked to the door and opened it, then blocked Stacie’s view of it by pointing at the window. “Is it true that Niklaus Skad’s wife gave such a performance the night her husband was killed?”