Free Simmer Down by Jessica Conant-Park, Susan Conant

station. I was itching to learn what Detective Hurley knew about her that I didn’t.
    “Which store do you want to go to? I don’t know where your apartment is.” I was driving aimlessly around and now almost turned the wrong way onto a one-way street.
    “I go to the Whole Foods on Westland. Right by Symphony Hall. Turn here.” Hannah gestured left, visibly smug that she got to tell a Boston resident where to go. “Oliver and Barry put me up in a condo off Boylston Street.” More smugness oozed from her pores; condos around Boylston Street didn’t run cheap. Gone was the hysterical Hannah of the phone call, and back was the Hannah I’d met last night, bossy and superior.
    “So, what did the police ask you about?” I was hoping, of course, that she’d say something terribly incriminating. “Are you officially a suspect?” She was at the gallery last night and did work for Oliver, after all. Besides, she was a horrible person. And my competition. With any luck, she’d soon be arrested, convicted, and locked up for the rest of her life!
    “They wanted to know all about the Full Moon Group, how long I’ve been working for them, what kind of employers they are, stuff like that. I said I didn’t really care what kind of people they are. They pay me well, and that’s what I’m interested in. Barry and Oliver didn’t always get along, but I stayed out of their problems. I was there to do a job. Oliver runs... well, ran,” she corrected herself, “a tight, moneymaking business. He was practical, knew what made money, and he wanted to keep on doing what brought it in. That’s where I came in. I was keeping them on track and pushing ahead with what had been working for them. You should go into one of their clubs and see how packed they are.” y
    Careful to voice no opinion, I said, “I have.”
    “Barry, on the other hand, is so full of himself and his grandiose ideas about fancy food and art and culture. He’s always going on about wanting them to open a fine-dining, ritzy restaurant. I mean, come on! That’s not what the Full Moon Group does. They’ve got highly successful clubs, and they make a killing. Why would they mess with that? And, actually, I don’t think Barry does want to mess with it, considering how much money he and Sarka spend.”
    “Do you know anything about Oliver’s wife? Dora?” I asked, figuring now that I had Hannah talking, I should get what I could out of her.
    “Oh, that stupid woman. Like I told the detective, Oliver and Dora fought all the time. She is a self-entitled bitch, and I don’t blame Oliver for being fed up with her. Basically, her role in life is to be a pain in the ass and spend lots of money.”
    “So why was Hurley so interested in you?”
    Hannah practically harrumphed at me. “Because I work for them, Chloe. I have insight into who might have wanted Oliver dead. And his business partners, obviously.”
    “So was Barry being questioned last night, too?” I wondered aloud. I didn’t get an answer. By waiting for one, I almost missed the turn into Whole Foods.
    “Here! On your right!” ordered Hannah, irritated that I was not performing my chauffeur duties adequately.
    I parked in the lot and trailed into the store behind Hannah. She grabbed a shopping cart and headed into the produce section. I caught up with her as she pulled a folded piece of paper from her purse. She whipped her perfect hair around to look at me. “Josh is cooking for me this week, just so you know. He wrote me out a list of what to buy. He’s not sure what night yet because he’s so busy with the new restaurant, but he’s got it all planned out.”
    I reached out and snatched the paper from her hand. Shit, she wasn’t kidding. I saw Josh’s familiar writing on the back of a harassment flyer. Right there on the back of one of my flyers was a list of ingredients and directions in his chef slang:

    Chkn., bone in

    bunch leeks, rough chop

    mixed root veg. (pot., swt. pot.,