If Cooks Could Kill by Joanne Pence

case—and it’s my job on the line now that she’s vanished. I’m not about to sit around. She’ll be long gone before they start checking in this area.”
    Calderon grunted, his most common form of communication. None of what the parole officer was saying surprised him. “We’ll do what we can.”
    â€œWhen, or if, you find her, I want to know about it.” Lexington leaned closer. “She’s armed and dangerous, and has already killed once. I don’t want to chance her doing it again!”
    Calderon slid back in his chair, his mouth firm. “In this department, we know how to handle ourselves.”

Chapter 8
    Angie was in Stella’s Bakery in North Beach carefully going over a recipe for a Le Succès, a meringue nut layer cake, with the head pastry chef. She wanted to be sure all four cakes she’d ordered were perfect. And heart-shaped.
    The cake literally melted in the mouth, but it required more time and concentration than she wanted to give. For each cake, three heart-shaped layers of meringue, mixed with ground almonds, were baked separately. After baking, the layers were stacked, with caramelized almond butter cream spread over the bottom and middle layers and along the sides, and chocolate flavored butter cream on top. Slivered almonds were pressed against the sides of the cake and chocolate rosettes or other designs could be added on top for decoration. Angie was convinced the difficulty in making it was why French pâtissiers often wrote “Le Succès” on the cakes.
    The chef was growing increasingly unhappy with each of Angie’s comments. Meringues turned crisp and brittle after cooling, so the cake was a bit of a tour de force, and she imagined the possibility of being criticized over each flaw was not a happy prospect.
    Nevertheless, she was working to convince him to give it a try, sure the boys in Homicide would be ecstatic over it, when who should walk in but her old friend and sometime foe Nona Farraday, restaurant reviewer on the staff of Haute Cuisine , a regional magazine for gourmands. Once, Angie would have crawled through ground glass to get that job.
    On top of that, Nona was everything Angie would have liked to be. Tall, thinner than a breadstick, with high cheekbones, big, round, green eyes, and silky straight blond hair, she could wear clothes like a Vogue model. Her lips were a lot poutier than Angie remembered, and she wondered if a little collagen hadn’t been added. Basically, she was someone Angie could easily hate, and often did.
    â€œAs I live and breathe,” Nona cried. She threw her skinny arms around Angie, bent slightly, and they air kissed. “Whatever have you been doing with yourself? I heard your name come up in connection with something, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what.”
    â€œMy name?” Angie asked in surprise.
    â€œI know. There’s going to be an opening at Haute Cuisine .” She smiled demurely. “I guess someone mentioned you. You might want to apply. You might have some chance. Perhaps.”
    â€œIf I were interested, I’d take Bon Appétit ’s offer.”
    Nona reached for the countertop to hold herself up, then laughed. “I couldn’t have heard right. I thought you said—”
    â€œI did,” Angie stated. “My big news hasn’t been announced in the papers yet, and I’m still trying to figure out a date for my engagement party, but look.” She held out her hand.
    Nona’s mouth distinctly down-turned before she recovered with a big smile and a loud squeal. “Can it be?You’re engaged! How wonderful. Is it the cop?” Nona asked.
    â€œNone other.”
    â€œHe’s so sexy, I’ll have to grant you that, Angie.”
    â€œIsn’t he? I’m here ordering some special cakes for Homicide. That way, Paavo’s friends can enjoy our happiness.”
    Nona’s teeth