Turn up the Heat

depressed or something. I don’t know what it is. But he couldn’t possibly have murdered Leandra! You know he’s not that kind of a person. But the police don’t know that. What are we going to do? We can’t afford a lawyer!”
    I tucked the phone under my chin and rubbed more sleep out of my eyes. “Oh, my God! Do you think he needs one?” Worried though I’d been, I hadn’t realized that Owen’s situation was this serious.
    I heard Adrianna blow her nose. “I don’t know if he needs a lawyer. I don’t know anything about this kind of stuff. He’s just been trying to cooperate with them as best he can so that they’ll see he has nothing to hide. But he won’t tell me any details about what they’re badgering him about. Chloe, Owen hasn’t done anything wrong!”
    “I know he hasn’t. Just tell him to hold on, and everything will be okay.” My words sounded inadequate even to me.
    “Before I forget to tell you, I got an e-mail from the eBay seller. I won that stupid coat. You won it. We did. I did. But guess what? It’s Blythe. She signed the e-mail with her real name. She didn’t seem to be hiding anything about herself, so I guess she didn’t recognize my name. Maybe she’s just eager to pawn off everything she’s stolen.”
    Yes! In spite of the bad news about Owen, I was elated. I could hardly wait for tonight’s dinner, when I’d have the chance to look for signs that Blythe had had something to do with Leandra’s murder. Blythe didn’t strike me as a killer, but how many times had I heard news reports in which monstrous criminals were described as “wonderful neighbors” and “model citizens”? Maybe tonight I could get a better feel for Blythe. I’d have to be careful, of course, to avoid mentioning Adrianna’s name. I must do nothing to suggest any knowledge of Blythe’s eBay activities. I’d have to be on guard and exceptionally observant. At the same time, of course, I’d have to act normal. This dinner could be more than a little awkward. As a budding social worker, I should be good at playing amateur sleuth while also interacting with my peers in my usual role of being Josh’s girlfriend. But then again, I wasn’t enrolled at the Nancy Drew School of Social Work. More’s the pity.

THIRTEEN

    I knocked loudly on Josh and Snacker’s door and eventually heard Snacker yell, “Come in!”
    Experience had taught me to enter cautiously. Stepping into the living room, I expected to find the usual dirt piles. The apartment was, however, cleaner than I’d ever seen it before. The unprecedented state of tidiness could have only one explanation: Snacker had gone on a cleaning spree to impress Blythe. Josh had had no time and no motivation to spruce the place up—I already knew how he lived and loved him anyway—and the third chef roommate, Stein, was at work. Sharing the three-bedroom apartment was advantageous to all three chefs. Each paid less rent than he’d have done alone, even for a little studio or a cramped one-bedroom unit, and everyone gained square footage. The living room was spacious, especially with the clutter now put away, or at least hidden, and each roommate had his own decent-sized bedroom.
    “Hi, babe.” Josh greeted me with two Coronas held in one hand. “Beer?” he asked as he leaned in for a good, long kiss.
    “Mmm, you bet.” I handed him a large wooden salad bowl I’d brought that contained red leaf lettuce and a jar of spicy garlic and lemon vinaigrette. I was hoping some serious garlic breath might keep Snacker and Blythe apart. I took a beer and followed him through the living room to the kitchen.
    “Blythe is already here, and we’re just about to start assembling the tamales. Snacker has enough food to feed an army.”
    Blythe was seated at the square kitchen table. Snacker stood behind her chair with his arms wrapped around her as he demonstrated the proper way to roll a tamale. “Okay, now you’ve got your filling in here, and we’ve left enough room around the sides to fold the banana leaf over when we’re ready to roll it. Add some chicken, red pepper strips, a green olive, and a few capers. Then we’ll top it with the sauce... Now start rolling! Don’t let that sauce spill out!” Snacker put his hands over Blythe’s.
    I looked at Josh as if to ask, Is he serious? Josh rolled his eyes in agreement.
    “Oh, hi, Chloe.” Blythe looked up from her tamale lesson and smiled warmly. “I’m so glad we’re all getting