Steamed

scattered around. I looked at Josh, who admitted, “It’s my fault. I was pissed off about the health code violations we were cited for and everything else going on, and I just started throwing crap around. That must’ve been what scared the rats out from hiding. I was ready to fling a pan at one of them when you walked in.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Probably not the best way to exterminate, but I was going to give it a shot,” he said grumpily.
    So, the stories about Josh’s bad temper were more than unfounded gossip.
    “Josh,” Madeline said firmly, “I told you that the problems in the kitchen are not your fault. You have got to calm down. I hate rats more than anyone, but I’m not blaming you. You are a phenomenal chef, okay? So relax.”
    “If I’m such a phenomenal chef, why did you tell Brian he was getting my job? Can you explain that to me?”
    I had no idea why Josh had picked this moment to make good on his promise to me to have an open and honest talk with Madeline. His timing was dreadful; everyone was too heated to have a rational discussion about anything.
    Maddie looked taken aback by Josh’s words, but I couldn’t tell whether she was surprised at his knowledge of her plan or shocked at the lunacy of such a possibility.
    But Tim wasn’t done with his ex. “Speaking of explanations, why did you send Ian over to Essence? I just found out that you knew he’d been stealing from us at Magellan. And you recommended him to me anyway. What have I ever done to deserve this kind of treatment from you?” Poor Tim looked sad and confused.
    More interested in Josh’s question, I spoke up. “Madeline, what about what Josh just asked you? Are you really going to make Brian the executive chef?” As a good clinician should, I was trying to refocus the discussion on the relevant issues and help the group make sense of a convoluted situation. Mainly, I was on Josh’s side and didn’t want him to get fired.
    Maddie looked directly at Josh. “Why would I ever fire you, Josh? You’re one of the best chefs in Boston. I’m not about to lose you. Why would you even think that?”
    From the doorway came a new voice, a loud and angry one. “Because that’s what you told me.”
    Josh, Madeline, Tim, and I all turned to see an enraged Brian facing us. In cold, menacing tones, he said, “You told me the job was mine.”
    Madeline took a few steps toward Brian and spoke vehemently, “Brian, I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m beginning to think that you’re the cause of all the accidents and the health code violations here. You left those dead mice. And all the rest. Is that right?”
    “This is Josh’s kitchen,” said Brian, sounding like one child blaming another, “and anything that happens here is because of him. But you know what? It’s time for things to change. You told me you were going to get rid of Josh and make me the executive chef.”
    “Josh, you can come work for me!” Tim sounded overjoyed at what he probably saw as the salvation of Essence.
    Maddie spun around and glowered at Tim. “So now you’re going to steal my chef, too? First you leave me, then you open Essence, which is almost an exact duplicate of Magellan, and now you want my chef, too?” Seething, Madeline walked slowly toward Tim and spoke deliberately. “You want the best chef in the city? Too bad. You had him. And you gave him up and left, all because of your little blonde whore.” She snickered. “And you wonder why I sent you Ian? You are so stupid! You didn’t begin to guess.”
    Tim backed into a corner and practically shriveled up. Brian, however, was still preoccupied with his boss’s false promises. His face showed shock, but his voice revealed rage. “The best chef in the city? What about me ?” Brian screamed. “What about ME!”
    “Brian,” I said gently, “I think Madeline lied to you.” Brian looked at me for the first time. “Did you follow me here, Chloe?” he demanded furiously.
    I took a step back to position myself close to Josh. “No, I didn’t follow you, Brian. I came here to warn Josh about you.”
    “Warn me about Brian?” Josh asked, confused. “What do you mean?”
    “He works at Home Depot. In the paint section. Where he uses neon orange spray paint to label cans of paint. Probably the same paint found near Eric’s body,” I stammered out. I started to shake. “And the knife,” I continued, “the two of you sharpen your knives differently,