Free Death on a Platter by Elaine Viets Page B

said he’d been helping himself to her cash, so he knows Jeff was angry at her. And I mentioned that Desmond wanted to buy Tillie’s restaurant for a new casino. I gave the police two more killers to consider.”
    “Well, they didn’t,” Jane said. “They arrested her anyway. They said neither one would use Tillie’s pepper juice.”
    Ted appeared with a cup, a plate, and a napkin. “I know you’re a coffee drinker, Jane,” he said. “But I’ve made you some chamomile tea. It’s caffeine-free and supposed to be soothing. You should have some of Amelia’s brownies, too. You need sugar after your ordeal.”
    Jane smiled at Ted. “Thank you. Most doctors tell me not to eat sugar.”
    “My patients are animals,” Ted said. “But I don’t need a medical degree to see you’ve had a rough time.”
    Jane took a ladylike bite of a brownie, then wolfed down the rest of it. Three brownies and half a cup of tea later, she patted her lips daintily with the paper napkin and was ready to resume the conversation.
    “There. That’s better. Josie, I don’t understand why you’re defending the police.”
    Josie warned herself to tread carefully. She knew she’d stepped into dangerous territory. “Mom, Tillie admitted putting cayenne pepper juice in Clay’s dipping sauce and now he’s dead.”
    “Tillie didn’t mean to kill him,” Jane said. “She called his wife because she knew Henrietta would drag him out of there.”
    “It doesn’t matter,” Josie said. “He’s still dead, Mom.”
    “That’s what Renzo said,” Jane told her. “I expected better from you. My friend has a police record. A rap sheet!”
    “That’s why I’m glad she has a good lawyer,” Josie said.
    “She shouldn’t have been arrested at all. Someone else killed Clay.”
    “I sure hope so,” Josie said.
    “That’s why I want you to find who did it.”
    “Me! I’m not a professional investigator.” Josie saw she’d missed a button on her chest and fastened it before Jane noticed.
    “You’ll still do a better job than those so-called pros.”
    “But, Mom—,” Josie said.
    “Don’t ‘but, Mom’ me. The police aren’t going to help clear Tillie’s name. They think they’ve got their killer. It’s up to you to find the real murderer.”
    “I—”
    “You need a babysitter and a chauffeur to pick up your daughter. And you’ve got one. I’m on call twenty-four hours a day. I’m happy to help you, Josie. Now it’s your turn to help me. Are you going to save Tillie or not?”
    Josie had called her mother for help that very afternoon. She needed Jane.
    “Well?” Jane demanded. “What’s your answer?”
    “I’ll do it, Mom. But it’s a high price to pay for a sitter.”

Chapter 10
    The crushed couch cushions and flattened pillows on Josie’s couch looked like accusations. Josie knew she’d been guilty of reckless behavior. She and Ted had gotten carried away last night. Josie blushed at the memory of their passionate scene.
    Josie whacked a throw pillow as if punishing it, then tossed it on the couch. She sprayed lemon furniture polish on a cloth and dusted the end table and the coffee table. The harsh morning light revealed the wear on her garage sale finds. At least her old furniture was clean, she thought.
    She had stepped back to admire her work when the phone rang.
    “How are you this morning, Josie?” Ted’s voice was warm and sexy.
    “Just fine,” she said. “Especially since you called.”
    Josie wasn’t fine. She was worried—about her mother, about Tillie, about her and Ted.
    “How’s your mom?” Ted asked. “Jane seemed pretty shaken up last night.”
    “She’s better this morning,” Josie said. “She woke me up early taking the dog for a walk. I’m sure she’s still worried about her friend, but Mom is a survivor.”
    “I’ve got some news that’s going to worry her more,” Ted said. “My ten o’clock brought in a bug for his shots.”
    “You treat insects?” Josie