Steamed

locks.”
    “Got it,” Tim said, working his key into the lock. His satisfied look said, See? I told you so. He swung the door open.
    Ahead of us was a dimly lit hall with a flight of stairs running down on the left and, on the right, a corridor that led to Magellan’s lovely open kitchen. This corridor, unlike the corresponding one at Essence, was obviously for employees only; the floor was covered in linoleum, a clipboard with loose papers hung from a nail, and the overall appearance was slightly shabby. I wondered whether it had been Madeline who’d advised Tim to locate Essence’s restrooms almost next to an exit that provided a convenient means of escape for patrons skipping out on their bills—and had allowed Eric’s murderer to vanish, too, of course. As I’d seen when I’d peered in from the main entrance, the kitchen lights were on. It immediately became apparent that Josh was here at Magellan, not in the open kitchen, but somewhere down the flight of stairs. Josh’s voice echoed through the hallway and stairway, as did loud crashes. I followed Tim downstairs to the lower level of Magellan.
    “Josh is in a mood, I guess,” Tim whispered to me. “He can get a little wild sometimes.” Tim grabbed my elbow and stopped me. “Chloe, you need to know something. Josh is a great guy and a great chef.”
    “But?” I prodded. '
    Tim let out a big sigh. “He’s got a mean temper. And you can’t expect him to be in a great mood these days. After all, the knife used to kill Eric Rafferty was Josh’s. And he knows how to use it. He has no alibi for the night of the murder.” He paused. “You should think about whether or not this is the kind of person you want to be involved with.”
    “Get out of here, you little bitch!” Josh shouted. There followed a loud clatter of metal.
    Then Madeline’s voice. “Stop it! Get away from me!”
    My heart was pumping ferociously. Josh was attacking Madeline! Tim pushed past me and flung open the door to what proved to be a storage area and lower kitchen with stacks of boxes, a gigantic stainless-steel sink, long counters, a zillion-burner gas range, a walk-in refrigerator, and big pots and pans suspended from hooks.
    Josh stood a few feet away from Madeline, his forehead covered in sweat, a large cast-iron sauté pan raised above his head. Madeline was backed into a corner of the room. She look petrified.
    “What the hell is going on here?” Tim demanded.
     

TWENTY
     
    MY heart broke as I stared at Josh, who stood poised with the heavy cast-iron pan, ready to attack the terrified Madeline. I’d been wrong about Brian. It was Josh who had killed Eric.
    “Josh,” Tim ordered, “drop the pan and move away from Maddie. Now!”
    Frozen with a look of utter confusion on his face, Josh stared numbly at Tim and me. “Hey, guys. What are you two doing here?”
    With no warning, Tim lunged at Josh and, with a mock-Samurai howl, collided with him so fiercely that he and Josh crashed to the floor.
    “Tim, what in God’s name are you doing? Have you lost your mind?” Madeline rushed over to her ex-husband and her chef, who were now tangled in a heap. “Good Lord, get off him!” She pulled Tim’s shoulders and managed to haul him off Josh.
    Bewildered and relieved, I had no idea what was going on but realized that Madeline had not been the intended victim of an assault. I went over to a stunned Josh and helped him to sit up. “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I’m fine. Pissed off”—he glared at Tim—“but fine.”
    The ex-spouses were now facing off. Madeline went first. “Could you please explain what the hell you were doing hurlirfg yourself at my chef?”
    “Protecting you! I walk in here, and he’s about to bash you over the head with that pan.” Tim defended himself.
    Madeline rolled her eyes and snorted in disgust. “Rats. We have rats.”
    “Oh,” Tim said sheepishly.
    “You know how I hate those filthy creatures! And I just saw two of them running toward me when you walked in here and jumped on Josh like some sort of kung fu asshole.” She bent over, grabbed the pan that had fallen to the floor, and waved it at Tim. “He just happened to have this sauté pan in his hand, and he started yelling at the little vermin. What the hell is wrong with you!”
    “Well, what about the mess in here?” Tim asked.
    I hadn’t noticed when we’d first walked in, but there were pans everywhere, stainless-steel bowls on the floor, cooking utensils