Simmer Down

murder. Indeed, when Barry killed Oliver, the taste of Josh’s food must still have been lingering on his palate. Last night, on New Year’s Eve, when Barry had tried to make Gavin an offer he couldn’t refuse, the scene had almost replayed itself: savoring Josh’s food at Simmer itself, not merely at the booth, Barry had lashed out at the man who was denying him access to his unrealized fantasy of owning a fine restaurant with Josh’s marvelous food.
    I was admittedly disappointed that Hannah had nothing to do with Oliver’s murder, but it was comforting to realize that having sunk her claws into Sean, she’d probably leave Josh alone. Furthermore, with Eliot the only partner in the Full Moon Group left alive or out of jail, the future of the group’s establishments was uncertain, and Hannah’s PR work in Boston was over. I prayed that she’d move back to New York and disappear permanently from our lives. Sean was a decent person who deserved a healthy relationship with someone who adored him. That relationship wouldn’t be with me, and I hoped it wouldn’t be with Hannah, who, besides everything else, is a manipulative liar.
    When the police arrived at Simmer last night, Detective Hurley was among them. When he questioned me, I happened to mention that I’d picked up Hannah after he’d held her all night at the station. And he’d done no such thing! Detective Hurley got defensive: Hannah was nothing more than a witness, and the police certainly did not subject her to any kind of all-night interrogation. With typical selfdramatization, Hannah had set up a phony crisis from which she intended to have Josh rescue her. On the night of Oliver’s murder, she’d slept in her own bed, or maybe in someone else’s; and in the morning, she’d gone to the police station, stood outside, and pretended to have been inside all night. I probably won’t tell Sean. He wouldn’t believe me. He’ll have to figure out Hannah for himself.
    The great news was Naomi’s innocence. After the police took Barry into custody and removed him from Simmer, I spent some time with Naomi. As I’d guessed, she had recognized Hannah’s voice at Food for Thought and had realized that Hannah was the hotline caller in need of help. Even though Naomi had known that Hannah was being harassed, she hadn’t taken violent action. In quintessential Naomi style, she’d been trying to convince Hannah to file a complaint against Oliver and had been in the process of locating a good lawyer to represent Hannah in her lawsuit. Naomi told me last night that the toughest part of helping Hannah had been keeping the secret from Eliot, who she knew was a silent partner in Oliver’s business and who was oblivious to the way Oliver treated women. Eliot’s relationship with Barry and Oliver had been strictly business. Nonetheless, it had been a struggle for Naomi to find herself plotting a nasty lawsuit against one of her new love’s partners.
    With Oliver dead and Barry in jail, Dora and Sarka were now both without husbands. I had no sympathy for Dora, but I felt sorry for Sarka. I couldn’t help wondering whether her longing for what seemed to me a stereotyped version of a normal, stable home life, together with what I guessed was a mild eating disorder, hinted at some perception of her husband’s disturbance and his potential for violence. No matter what, I could only begin to imagine how hurt and betrayed she felt by Barry’s actions.
    Even though it was eleven thirty in the morning, I’d had only a few hours of sleep and was totally bleary eyed. The sleep I did get was restless and filled with bad dreams. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes, thinking a good hit of caffeine might help. Josh looked as exhausted and drained as I was.
    “Why don’t I start a pot of coffee and then go downstairs and take someone’s paper, okay?” I hoped Noah hadn’t picked up his, since it gave me a sick sense of satisfaction to steal his newspaper whenever I could.
    When I’d successfully returned with Noah’s paper, and we both had steaming cups of coffee, we curled up on the couch together. I flipped through the pages to see if Mishti Patil had reviewed Simmer.
    “Here it is!” I cried excitedly.
    “Stop, Chloe. I don’t want to see it if she did. It’ll be a fake review that she was paid off to do.” Josh tried fervently to grab the newspaper out of my hands, but I stood up, spilling coffee all over myself, ran across the room, and locked