Free Death on a Platter by Elaine Viets

open.
    Josie sat up, pulled her blouse shut, and stared at a wild-eyed Jane standing in her living room.
    “Mom, what’s wrong?”
    “It’s Tillie,” Jane said. “Clay died an hour ago. The police arrested Tillie.”

Chapter 9
    “Arrested!” Ted said. “What for?”
    Josie was scrambling to arrange her clothes. Jane was so distraught she hadn’t bothered to knock. She’d opened Josie’s front door and charged straight into the living room. She was too upset to notice that Josie and Ted had been making out on the couch like teenagers.
    Ted smoothed down his tousled brown hair and tucked in his shirt.
    “The police say she committed a felony,” Jane said. “They arrested her for reckless endangerment.”
    “What’s that?” Josie asked. She fastened a crucial button on her blouse.
    “As I understand it, that means Tillie showed a—” Jane stopped for a moment, as if searching her memory, then recited, “A heedless disregard for potential results. Because she put cayenne pepper in Clay’s sauce.”
    “But he asked her to,” Josie said. “No, he demanded it. I heard him say it.”
    “It’s still reckless endangerment,” Jane said. “Cayenne pepper juice is strong. Tillie has to wear gloves when she chops up those peppers. The juice burns if it gets into any cuts in her hands. A young waiter got some in his eye and had to go to the ER to have it flushed out. That juice is like acid. The cops don’t know this, but Tillie told me she doubled the pepper juice.
    “Tillie didn’t mean to hurt him, but the law says that doesn’t make any difference,” Jane said. “He’s dead, just the same.”
    “But Clay wanted his sauce extra hot,” Josie repeated.
    “Doesn’t matter,” Jane said. “All the police have to do is prove Tillie didn’t care about the damage she could cause.”
    Josie tucked in her blouse while Jane paced the living room. “Tillie wouldn’t kill anyone,” her mother said. “She’s been my friend since she was six years old. She’s a good, careful cook.”
    Who desperately wanted rid of a bad customer, Josie thought.
    Josie’s agitated mother kept running her fingers through her short hair. She used enough hairspray to keep her hair in place during a tornado. Now, instead of her usual silver helmet, Jane’s hair stood up in stiff spikes, as if she’d stuck her finger in a light socket.
    “Mom, sit and try to calm down.”
    To stop her mother’s frantic movements, Josie held her. She could feel the rigid muscles in Jane’s shoulders. Josie feared she would worry herself sick. She smoothed her mother’s hair back in place. Jane would have been mortified if she knew that the small bald spot at the top of her head was exposed.
    Jane shook herself free and asked, “How can the police be so stupid?”
    She marched around the coffee table. Ted pulled in his long legs and Jane completed her circuit. “How could they possibly think Tillie would poison that man?” she asked. “This will kill her. Just kill her.”
    Josie blocked her mother’s next lap around the living room. She saw tears in Jane’s eyes. “Tillie’s smart and tough, Mom. Let’s have some coffee and talk about it.”
    “I don’t want more coffee,” Jane said sharply. “I’ve had enough.”
    “Some wine?”
    “No!” Jane was as wired as a stadium scoreboard.
    Josie glanced at Ted and raised an eyebrow. He saw Josie’s silent signal for help and disappeared into the kitchen.
    Josie was relieved to see that Ted’s clothes were now in place. Maybe it wasn’t so bad that Jane had interrupted them. Amelia was right down the hall. What if her daughter had opened her bedroom door and caught her mother on the couch? An eleven-year-old didn’t need to see that scene.
    “At least sit down, Mom,” Josie said. “You’re wearing yourself out pacing around.”
    “All I’ve done is sit!” Jane said. But she plopped down in the easy chair, unwound her scarf, and unbuttoned her coat. Her hands trembled