If Cooks Could Kill by Joanne Pence Page B

Dennis said, “Johnny Walker red—a double—for my friend.”
    â€œThanks,” Max murmured as Scott rushed off.
    â€œSo how you been?” Dennis asked.
    â€œWell…not so hot, as you can see,” Max said, gesturing at himself. “But that’s not the reason I wanted to talk to you. You see—”
    â€œWait. After we order lunch. I didn’t eat breakfast today.” The waiter brought Max his drink, and Dennis ordered antipasto, soup, pasta, and prime rib for them both. “That okay with you, Max?” Dennis asked.
    â€œSounds great.”
    â€œAnd don’t take too long,” Dennis said to the waiter. “We’re two hungry guys here.” Scott dashed toward the kitchen, about ten feet off the ground.
    â€œSo, things haven’t come together for you since that trouble a few years back?” Dennis asked.
    As the table became loaded with bruschetta, baked brie, and roasted garlic, Max turned the conversation back to Dennis and his football career, as if he didn’twant to talk about his own troubles. Not when he had a chance at a feast.
    It wasn’t until they were well into the prime rib that Max said, “Veronica Maple was released from prison three days ago.”
    Dennis tried to act surprised. “I heard she was expected to get out around this time. I didn’t know exactly when. Why do you care?”
    Slowly, Max lay down his fork and knife. “Don’t play dumb. I know you kept in touch with her.”
    â€œBut I didn’t!” Dennis protested.
    â€œShe told people you did. People in the prison.”
    â€œWhy would I? She meant nothing to me. Think, man! She ripped me off, too.”
    Max looked, at first, as if he didn’t believe him. But then his eyes softened, questioning. Should he trust Veronica and her prison cronies over Dennis? Had he forgotten that Dennis had been the only one to help him in any way three years ago?
    â€œI’m on your side in this,” Dennis said. “I always have been.”
    Max ran his fingers through his greasy hair. “She’s still got the money. Most of my clients were paid off like you were. The insurance company did right by you, didn’t it?”
    â€œHey, Max. Calm down. They did okay.”
    â€œIt’s just me. I’m the one she ruined.” His fists clenched. “I can’t wait to get my hands on her!”
    â€œYou’ve got to forget about her. This isn’t going to do you any good. Leave the city. Keep away from her.”
    â€œI won’t do it. She’s got what I want!”
    â€œMax, let me give you some money.” He pulled out a wad from his pocket. “How much do you need? Five hundred? A thousand?”
    â€œIt’s not what I need now. It’s the whole thing. She stole eight million dollars from my clients! Do you know what that did to me? To my reputation?”
    â€œHere. Forget the eight million. It’s a thousand. It’s all I got with me—except to pay this restaurant—but you need more, you let me know. You were the greatest, Max. You helped me invest my money and make nearly twenty percent return on it. You stopped me from doing a lot of stupid stuff I wanted to do. If it weren’t for you, I’d have nothing.” Dennis placed it on the table by Max’s plate.
    Max stared at the money. “Tell me this. Did she contact you?”
    Dennis waited a long time before he whispered, “No.”
    Max’s eyes bored into him, colder than Dennis had ever seen them. “Tell me how to reach her.”
    Dennis slowly shook his head. “I don’t know.”
    â€œDamn it, Dennis! If you’re lying!”
    Dennis noticed that the other customers looked up, concerned. “Forget her! She’ll only cause you to do something that’ll get you into more trouble.”
    â€œLike what? Kill her? Believe me, I’d love to. Once I get my money