Frosted Shadow, a Toni Diamond Mystery: Toni Diamond Mysteries by Nancy Warren Page A

” She turned and pointed, past a young Asian guy with a huge bag of prawns in his hand, to a thin man with a moustache wearing a pristine apron and white hat who didn’t look as though he partook of his own creations.
    “Thanks.”
    “I’ll introduce you.”
    “Not necessary,” he said in a Go Away tone, but she tagged along anyway.
    As he walked toward the head chef, the kitchen helper upended the bag and out spilled enough prawns, gray and curled, to coat half the ocean floor.
    “Excuse me, Chef?” They made their way -- him and his uninvited companion -- over to the big stove where the chef was stirring something.
    He glanced up, looked them up and down, took in the badge. “Help you?”
    “I’m investigating the recent murder in the hotel a couple of nights ago. Any chance you’re missing a knife?” It was like asking a lifeguard if the beach was missing a grain of sand. There were knives everywhere.
    But the chef didn’t laugh. He shook his head. “Can’t tell about dinner knives or anything used out front. But the chefs are all maniacs about their knives. Believe me, if one was missing, I’d know.”
    “Okay. Thanks.” He pulled out a card. “If you think of anything.”
    They turned and the chef said, “There was one thing.”
    “What?”
    “Lucy threw a fit couple days ago. Which is not unusual. Lucy gives PMS a bad name, if you know what I mean.” Toni opened her mouth and Luke grabbed her wrist and squeezed it, hoping he could subtly communicate to her that feminist rants were better saved for after he’d finished work.
    “What did she throw a fit about?”
    “That’s her coming out of the fridge. Go ask her.”
    Lucy was a muscular woman with a mass of curly black hair tied back. Her apron was stained, her cap on crooked and her face set in a frown. “Lucy?”
    She glared at them, kicking the door to the walk-in fridge shut behind her. She glanced from Luke to Toni and if possible, her frown deepened. “I already told you. The cake’s under control. Got the perfect icing color match for the corporate logo and yes, the specially ordered sparkly candles arrived.” She tilted her hands like a cheerleader about to go into a routine. “All eighty of them. What do you want now? Sing along napkins?”
    “Don’t tempt her,” he said, before Toni had a chance to speak. Then once more displayed his badge. “I’m a cop. Understand something happened with one of your knives?”
    Her lip curled in a half grin. “You guys running out of crimes to solve?”
    “It’s in connection with the murder that happened here in the hotel.”
    “All my knives are here, but some cretinous moron put one of them in the dishwasher. Nobody touches my knives. I have to special order them from Japan.”
    “And you’re sure the knife was yours?”
    “Of course I’m sure,” she snapped. “I mark all my knives.” She stomped over to her station and pulled out a wicked-looking blade about six inches long and approximately half an inch wide. “See, here? I etch the blade with a special mark so I’d find them again if anybody stole them.”
    She glared at them both. “This isn’t some crappy Sunday roast carving knife from Target; my knives are the tools of my art. I wash them myself. By hand. Then some brainless millipede shoves this one in the dishwasher.” Her voice rose to screeching heights.
    “Did the culprit confess?”
    She shook her head and set the knife down carefully. “Mood I was in I’d have carved off his gonads and served them to him flambéed.”
    Luke took an involuntary half step back. “When did you discover the knife was in the dishwasher?”
    Her forehead creased. She glanced at the knife and then at the two of them, comprehension dawning. “Oh, my God. You think that woman was killed with my knife?”
    “We don’t know anything yet, Lucy. We’re making inquiries. When did you find the knife in the dishwasher?”
    “Monday morning when I came on shift. Around