Free The Main Corpse by Diane Mott Davidson Page A

of her worries, hours could pass, and I only had ninety minutes to finish the preparations for the Kirby-Joneses. Much as I loved Marla, I didn't have time for a party postmortem now. "Can we talk about this later?"
     
     
"Please, please tell me that it's going to be later, as in tomorrow morning later," she pleaded between bites. "As in, when you come down to the Prospect office with me?" I tried to block out the vision of Marla and Albert squabbling viciously in one of Prospect Financial Partners' plush Cherry Creek offices. "Please, Goldy? Don't say no."
     
     
I opened a plastic container of fresh basil leaves and inhaled their flowery scent. "Oh, Marla, I've got this new booking for a dinner to do tomorrow night - "
     
     
"Come on, you can help me stay calm. It's bad for my health to get upset. We won't be there for an hour, even. We'll go have brunch afterwards - my treat."
     
     
"But why do you want me there?" I measured out olive oil, Parmesan, and pine nuts and prayed that I could do my pesto recipe from memory. "The only thing I know about business is that I don't have much at the moment."
     
     
"I've invested a hundred thousand dollars just in the mine venture, Goldy. With that money, I could have put my dear nephew Julian through Cornell. Twice." Her husky voice cracked.
     
     
"You're already putting him through," I reminded her gently, and started the food processor whirling.
     
     
"Yes, but still, a hundred K!" she fumed. "I could have... well, let's see, I could have... put in a few new windows at the cardiac rehab center. Then I'd have a nice view of the hospital grounds while I'm on that damn treadmill."
     
     
And wouldn't Lyle Gordon, M.D., have loved that, I thought. The pesto ingredients had turned into a brilliant green, fragrant paste. "Marla, please. I need to cook. Are you feeling okay?"
     
     
Ignoring my question, she demanded, "Remember what I did to John Richard's shoulder? Think Albert knew about that? Maybe I intimidated him."
     
     
I groaned. My assertiveness was a behavior I'd learned only after my disastrous marriage to Dr. John Richard Korman ended. But Marla had stood up to him, and consequently had managed to be married a lot fewer years, and with much less grief, than I.
     
     
I said truthfully, "You didn't actually hit Albert yesterday. You just yelled at him and called him names. There's a difference," I added, sneaking another look at the clock. Macguire was almost done punching all the air pockets from the dough.
     
     
"Okay, look," she said reluctantly, "I know you're busy. In addition to crying on your shoulder and begging you to come with me tomorrow, I just wanted to tell you that Tony and I are leaving for our fishing trip on Friday night, and we were hoping you could do that other favor for us before we go."
     
     
I began to slice fat vine-ripened tomatoes thinly, removing the seed pockets as I went along. "What other favor?"
     
     
"Oh, didn't he tell you? Tony was really hoping you'd do a taste-test for Prospect. Could you manage it? I think he'd pay for your time..."
     
     
I barely avoided slicing my index finger. "You're not serious, are you? I don't want to be paid to taste someone else's food. Besides, I thought you got out of analyzing restaurants. How does Tony think I can possibly help?"
     
     
"Don't ask me, I'm the dumb broad who can't even read an assay report," Marla said blithely. "And as for tasting - well, Tony just doesn't trust his own taste buds. What he'll do is watch the traffic in and out of Sam's Soups there by the lake. He'll talk to people, maybe conduct exit interviews, like that. Albert will crunch the numbers. All you have to do is sample Sam's menu and tell Tony if there's any way that soup will be the next food craze. You know he'll appreciate it, he'll have you cater Prospect's next big do. Please?"
     
     
"Friday lunch," I agreed reluctantly. Whether Tony would have me cater Prospect's next big affair was something I