“That’s what I figured,” he said with a hint of a smile. “I’m here to interview another suspect. You?”
“Same thing,” she said. “I just had a chat with Stacie Roebuck.”
“The assistant? What did she have to say?”
“She was alone the night her boss died. Holed up in her room.”
“No alibi, huh?”
“Nope. None, whatsoever. Though I don’t think she did it. You should see her, Chase. She’s this sweet, slim woman.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Incapable of shoving a two-hundred-and-fifty-pound male into an oven?”
“I don’t think she could have done it. And not just physically. She might have disliked her boss—”
“He seemed to have had that effect on a lot of people.”
“—but she respected him for what he’d achieved.”
“All right,” he said. “And I respect your judgment.” He hesitated. “Why don’t you join me?”
“Interviewing a suspect? But I’m not a cop.”
“You’re practically deputized,” he said. “And it’s not like we haven’t done it before.”
That was true enough. They’d interviewed other suspects before. She hadn’t lied to Stacie. Uncle Alec had given her a consultant status some time back, when he realized she could be a boon to his investigations. That still didn’t mean she could sit in on interrogations at the precinct. She could, however, tag along when a detective like Chase talked to witnesses and interviewed suspects. Like Rick Castle shadowing Kate Beckett.
“So who are you interviewing?” she asked as she fell into step beside him.
“There’s this guy who was one of Niklaus Skad’s main competitors. He’s a former chef who now has a cooking show on NBC. It was scheduled to go head to head with Kitchen Disasters and to everyone’s surprise managed to get more viewers than anyone thought.”
Chapter 20
“Ooh! I think I know him. Konrad Daines, right? Chopped Liver?”
“Yeah, that’s the one. You know your cooking shows, Odelia.”
“I always hope to pick something up.”
“I have to confess I’d never heard of the guy. Or Niklaus Skad, for that matter. But then I’m not much of a cook.”
“Me neither,” she confessed. “I just figure that maybe by watching a lot of cooking shows I’ll become a master chef.”
“You mean by osmosis?”
“Yep. That’s exactly what I mean. Silly, huh?”
“Nah. It’s like guys watching football. They just sit there with their beer bellies, totally out of shape, and somehow figure that if they watch enough games some of that athleticism just might rub off on them. Human nature, I guess.”
“Or laziness.”
He grinned. “Or that.”
They walked back to the main staircase, and she noticed Max, Dooley and Brutus had vanished. Probably on the case, just like she and Chase were. “You watch a lot of football?”
He laughed. “What are you saying? That I’m a couch potato?”
She glanced him up and down. “No, you’re definitely not a couch potato.”
“Thanks. I try to stay in shape. Not football, mind you, but I do hit the gym on a semi-regular basis.”
“I wish I could say the same.”
“Why don’t you join me? I could use a spotter.”
Her eyebrows shot up. “Me? And you? Gym buddies?”
“Why not? It’s a lot more fun when it’s not just you and the treadmill.”
“I don’t know…” She pictured Chase hanging over her while she desperately tried to push up a huge barbell, veins standing out on her neck, breaking into a sweat. Not exactly the way she wanted to look in front of him. It was true that she needed to get in shape, though. Desperately so, in fact. And he definitely looked like a guy who knew his way around a gym.
“They’ve got separate dressing rooms if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Oh, I know they do. It’s just…”
“You don’t want me to see you in your gym clothes, huh? Is that it?”
“No! Of course not.” Well, yes. She didn’t want him to see her flabby midsection. Or her flabby tush. Or her flabby anything.
As if he could read her mind, he gave her a once-over. “I think you’re in pretty great shape, actually. You probably don’t even need to go to the gym.”
“Oh, trust me, I do,” she said. Then, before she could change her mind, added, “Fine. I’ll be your gym buddy. But if you make one comment about my butt…”
“I might make a compliment about your butt,” he said with a smirk.
“Yeah, right. Once you see my butt squeezed into spandex you’ll wipe that smirk straight off your face.”
“I think your butt looks great, with or without spandex.”
“Are we really talking about my butt now?”
“You started it.”
“You started it. I think.”
They’d arrived on the second floor, and he checked his notebook. “Konrad Daines. Room twenty-four. Let’s see if Mr. Daines is home, shall we?”
They traversed the hallway, passing a woman vacuuming the red carpeted floor and another dumping a bunch of linen into a trolley. They stopped in front of Room 24 and Chase knocked on the door.
“Did you ever get that chef to give up his alibi?” she asked.
“As a matter of fact I did. Turns out he was over at another restaurant in the next town for an interview. Was so sick and tired of Niklaus Skad that he was going to quit Fry Me for an Oyster and start work for the competition.”
“And he didn’t want to jeopardize his chances by blabbing about the interview.”
“Exactly. So that’s another suspect we can scratch from our list.”
Just then, the door swung open, and an irate-looking man stood in the doorway. “Yes? What do you want?”
Chase held up his badge. “Hampton Cove Police Department, Mr. Daines. Detective Kingsley and this is Odelia Poole, civilian consultant. May we come in?”
The man’s scowl instantly morphed into a look of concern. “Sure, sure. Is this about what happened the other night? My lawyer promised me he’d taken care of everything. That I was off the hook.”
They stepped into the room, and Odelia noticed how it was a lot nicer than Stacie Roebuck’s cramped quarters. There was a small foyer which opened up into a living room with an ocean view, a dining room and a kitchen. Two bedrooms led off the living room, one of which sported a four-poster bed.
The man led them into a salon and bade them take a seat. Odelia and Chase picked out a couple of chairs while Konrad settled himself on a settee.
“Actually we’re here to talk about the murder of Niklaus Skad,” Odelia said.
“Oh!” said the man. He was exactly as she remembered him from Chopped Liver. Barrel-chested with a tan even-featured face, bristly short hair, and keen eyes.
The show featured ten couples that were given the opportunity to open a pop-up restaurant. Undercover judges visited each restaurant and recorded their assessments, in no-holds-barred confession-cam style. Hidden cameras filmed the contestants as they responded to customer criticism and other crises. Tempers ran high, and when the teams reviewed their assessments at the end of each episode, typically lots of tears were shed and Kleenex doled out. The big prize was to open an actual restaurant.
“I take it you’re aware that Niklaus Skad was killed?” Chase asked.
“Of course. Yes, I heard about that,” said Konrad.
“You and Mr. Skad were competitors?” Odelia asked.
“Yes. Yes, we were. His Kitchen Disasters and my Chopped Liver were scheduled in the same time slot. His on Fox and mine on NBC.”
“Is it true that your show was being axed at the end of its current season?” Odelia asked.
The man’s face darkened. “So you read about that, huh? Yeah, it’s true. It’s also the reason for my little… incident the other night.”