Spoiled Rotten by Mary Jackman Page A

death. Tony’s wife is in the hospital being monitored as we speak. She ate some, too.”
    Andy stared out the window at the view. I followed his gaze. White caps swelled along a range of mountainous waves.
    â€œI don’t know anything about rat poison.” Daniel had calmed. Here was a man solaced by the sea. Born and raised in the Maritimes, he would naturally find comfort in the raw elements. He must miss it living in the city. I knew it would be a few days before I returned to normal. It was would be hard to forget such compelling beauty.
    â€œI warned you to stay away from that man,” his sister spoke suddenly. “You never should have got involved with him in the first place.” What appeared to be a fresh, homemade, double-layered chocolate ganache cake hovered in her hands midway over the table. She was shaking so much I feared she would drop it. A pot of coffee brewed on the stove, filling the air with heavenly aroma and it was all I could do to stay focused on the conversation. My eyes followed the quivering cake with puppy-dog devotion.
    â€œYou hated Tony Vieira,” she said. “In fact, whenever I visited Toronto, you refused to go to the market in case we bumped into him.”
    â€œAll that changed last month when he came around to the back door of Walker’s with a proposition. He wanted to bury the hatchet.” Daniel gulped. “I mean, make things up to me. I was making news in the food industry and he was looking for someone with my talents. He said he had an opportunity I couldn’t turn down. I would be hired to manage the entire food concession for a new spring fair that was opening in the convention centre. I would be executive chef in charge of overseeing menus and ordering. It would be great for my portfolio and the money would be double what I’d make at Walker’s in a month. No offence, Liz.”
    The cake was lowered to the table and placed directly in front of me. Meriel, sensing my inert neediness, cut out a generous wedge and handed me the first piece.
    â€œNo offense taken, Daniel,” I mumbled, waving a loaded fork around, “and none to you, because I would have thought a chef with more experience would be required to head up an operation of that magnitude. There’s a lot more involved than just cooking up pots of soup.”
    He bowed his head. “I’m afraid my ego got the better of me. I should have known it was too good to be true. All the ordering was done through Superior Meats, but I saw nothing wrong in that. I knew he bid out the contract and that’s commonly the practice. With the councillor’s connections, he could be looking at a lot of extra business, high-end corporate affairs that might change the structure of his own supply operations. His wife was something else, though. She constantly egged him on to expand his career. Mrs. Vieira thought it beneath her having a glorified butcher as a husband.”
    Daniel pushed his cake away.
    â€œAny idea what prompted the binge?”
    â€œThere was gossip. From what I heard that he finally found out his new buddy was having an affair with his wife. I knew something had to be going on. Why else would a guy like Albright be hanging around the market?”
    â€œHe was the elected spokesperson for the Kensington riding. It was only natural,” I replied.
    â€œHe wasn’t too interested in the community. I have friends who live in the market and according to them, none of the residents’ suggestions or concerns were acted on, and numerous complaints about rising crime and business loss were also ignored. No one understands why he ran for office last term. If his rival hadn’t gotten sick, Albright would have probably lost the election. Even so, he only won by a few votes and that was with full support from Tony.”
    â€œDid you ever wonder if Tony may have been responsible for the rival’s timely illness?” I