Free Death Dines Out by Claudia Bishop Page A

means goodbye to the third star." She pulled herself out of the pool.

Quill hung onto the concrete edge and kicked out gently, watching her. "There'll be other chances for the third star, Meg."

"When? When!" She stood up and danced up and down in her rage. "Oh, dammit, dammit, dammit!"

"Settle down, Meg. It's probably for the best. I mean, these people are lunatics. If this hadn't happened to interfere with the judging, something else would have. Guaranteed."

Meg buried her face in her hands and ground her teeth. Quill waited a few seconds, floating peacefully, and then asked, "Meg? Is being a two-star chef all that bad?"

"Yes." She straightened up. "Does Tiffany know this?"

"Yes. There was a humongous scene in Le Nozze."

"She hasn't called it off yet. I'll bet she's going to pull it off, Quill. She has to. She just has to. We need that third star."

"We don't need that third star. The inn's doing fine."

"I'm going in to check the answering machine. Maybe Tiffany's called with some news."

Quill sighed. Water got up her nose. She pulled herself out of the pool and grabbed her towel. She followed Meg back to the condo with her face buried in it. She was only peripherally aware of an obstacle and stepped aside, straight into a muscular, living surface. Wiping her face, she backed up.

"Sorry about that," said Evan Taylor. "I guess I should have called ahead."

"No problem." Quill, suddenly conscious of her bathing suit, wrapped the towel around her middle. "Did you come to see us?" Meg, who had raced inside the condo to check the machine, came out at the sound of voices. She looked at Quill and shook her head: no word.

"Yes, I came to see you." Evan smiled. He was really, very attractive, Quill decided, with that dark hair falling I over his forehead. "I'd like to say I braved all sorts of obstacles to get to see you, and I did."

"Lions and tigers and bears?" Quill suggested.

"Parental wrath, which can be quite tigerish, now that I think of it. No, the obstacles weren't physical. It wasn't even Florida traffic. Corrigan and I have a place on the third floor, right here. Tiffany probably mentioned that."

"In that case, you can go right back upstairs. Now's not a very good time," Quill said firmly. "Unless it's something quick?"

"Not really." He smiled that attractive grin again. "Tell you what. Why don't you let Corrigan and me I take you both to dinner? Say, in about an hour?"

Quill shook her head. "Thanks, but no. We've already..."

"Don't tell me you've already eaten. I just heard you in the pool. You're both starving. So, what about dinner?

On us. At Taboo. I'll tell you why I'm asking. Dad has an idea that maybe will save the week for Meg. It'll take some time to discuss it. And why not have a talk in a place where we all can relax?"

Quill looked at Meg, who shrugged. Taboo had a reputation for great surroundings and even better food.

"We'll pick you up in the Jag. It's an X-I5." She looked blank. "A four-seater."

"Hey, how could we pass that up?" Meg asked sarcastically. "Okay, boys. We'll listen to what you have to say. But we'll go Dutch, as we say in New York. I'm not eating on your father."

"Eight o'clock, then. The dinner's on me, not Dad. And don't worry about reservations. They know me." He grasped Quill's arm briefly. His hand was warm and strong. He nodded to Meg and loped off across the lawn and up the stairs in the stack of buildings facing the pool.

"Arrogant little brats," Meg said tartly, marching inside. "They know him at Taboo's, huh? I'll bet they know everyone in this place with more money than taste."

Quill came in behind her and carefully closed the door. "What the heck do you suppose that's all about?"

"I wouldn't trust Verger Taylor as far as I could throw a forty-gallon stock pot. So whatever it is, it's trouble."

"Maybe we should cancel." Quill walked into her bathroom, draped the wet towel over the heated towel rack, and turned on the shower.

Meg trailed after her. "Pass up a