5 Windy City Hunter (5 page)

Wes stood up, pulled out his wallet, and struggled to extract a business card from the overstuffed leather. He finally handed a bent card to Darby and said, “My email is on my card. You can send your correspondence with your uncle to me there. Call me if you think of anything else I should know.”

Darby walked with Wes to the door. I wasn’t upset over the questioning, and I realized I was famished. We hadn’t had anything to eat other than snacks since lunchtime on the road.

“Well, what did you think about all of that?” Darby asked as he dropped onto the sofa.

“It was just like on television,” I said. “They accuse everyone, no matter how absurd it may seem, and then they hope something sticks to somebody. I’m not worried about it, but I am starving. What do you want to do about dinner?”

“Uncle Jack’s note said we should eat anything and everything in the kitchen. He stocked up for us. Plus, we have the pastries I bought earlier.” He thought for a moment before saying, “I’m not in the mood to cook, and he left numbers for pizza shops that will deliver, so how about a pizza?”

“Ooh, pizza sounds really good tonight,” I told him. “I haven’t been eating pizza lately because spicy foods haven’t been agreeing with me, but how can we be in Chicago and not get a pie?”

Darby agreed and went to the kitchen for the numbers to call. Now that I had my taste buds set for pizza, I hoped at least one of the shops would deliver in this weather.

I grabbed the television remote from the coffee table and started surfing for something to watch. A cooking show was always a safe bet for the two of us, and most of them had holiday recipes right now, so that would be an added bonus.

The up button on the remote stuck, and I couldn’t change the channel. My surfing was stopped at a movie. In the current scene, a woman had just driven her car into a man, but the man was a zombie. She jumped out of her car with a baseball bat in her hand. Her face showed exaggerated shock when the zombie stood up. She tried to beat him with the bat, but only his arm fell off before he advanced on her and sank his teeth into her face.

I started to giggle. I wasn’t watching the movie, I was watching the man who was playing the part of the zombie. He was paid to look gross, make noises, and allow slime to drip from his mouth. It was wonderfully hilarious. My giggles turned to full-blown laughter as I watched the man attempt to call other zombies to feast on the woman. He couldn’t use words, so he used a combination of noises, grunts, and howls. His expressions were priceless, and I couldn’t stop laughing.

“Uh-oh, here we go again,” said Darby coming back from the kitchen. He had a big smile across his face. “What is it this time?”

I pointed to the movie, and eked out, “A zombie movie.”

“I used to watch old zombie movies when I was a kid,” he said. “I never laughed at them though. They scared me half to death.”

I managed to get my laughter under control and said, “I’ve never seen a zombie movie. I know zombies and vampires are all the rage right now, but I haven’t had a chance to look into either, and for some reason, watching this guy act the part of a zombie is one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. I wonder how he practiced his lines?” The thought brought another gale of laughter.

After a few moments, Darby was laughing, too. He finally said, “The first two pizza shops I called weren’t delivering, but the third one was, so we’ll have a pie in about forty minutes. What do you want to do in the meantime?”

“I want to run to the bathroom during a commercial,” I said, “and then I’d like to finish the movie. I want to check the credits to see who this guy is. He’s so funny, and I have to know if he’s somebody famous. I think there’s only another half hour to go, and then we can watch a cooking show or something. Ok?”

“Sure,” he said. “I’m good with the zombies.” He settled back to watch and laugh with me.

The zombies were finally vanquished, but not before my favorite zombie guy made a valiant effort to take down the last of the unaffected humans. When the credits rolled, and I saw his name was Chris De Floss, I laughed so hard, I cried. The name conjured up images of a zombie dentist. I would have to look him up later to see what else he had starred in. Something about his name was familiar.

The pizza arrived, and we decided to eat while watching a local cooking show featuring Christmas cookies.

The pizza was deep dish with several cheeses, green peppers, green herbs, and topped with chili-seasoned prawns. There was one decorative red chili, and Darby popped it whole into his mouth. I had never eaten anything like it before, and squeezing a lemon over the prawns, or any ingredient on a pizza for that matter, was a new experience for me. The pizza and the cooking show were both yummy.

After wolfing down three slices, I asked, “What’s our schedule for tomorrow? What time do I need to be up? What should I wear? Are we walking or driving?”

“You don’t have to be up early,” he said as he reached for the last slice of pizza. “Let’s plan on breakfast here between eight and nine, and we’ll leave by ten. Wear comfortable shoes, dress casual, and we’ll be both walking and driving. I thought maybe we could do some shopping in the morning before heading over to the Wilder Hotel to register and look over the space where we’ll be cooking.”

“Oh, good,” I said. “I was hoping we would have time for shopping. I thought you were going to be busy all day tomorrow with the contest.”

“Nope. I only have to register before 3:00,” he said. “There’s a reception tomorrow night at eight, and then we cook on Saturday. Since I’m baking in the dessert category, I’m expecting our start time will be early afternoon. We’ll find out tomorrow when we register.”

“Ok,” I said. “Let me help you clean this up, and then I think I’m going to go to bed. It’s early, but I’m more tired than usual with the baby, and I think I’ll get into bed and read for a while. Do you mind?”

“Not at all,” he said. “I’m going to give Nate a call, watch some television, and then I’ll probably go to bed early, too. It’s been a long, crazy day.”

We took the glasses, plates, bottles, and the pizza box to the kitchen and quickly washed the few dishes. I gave Darby a hug goodnight, and headed to my room for my toothbrush, pajamas, and slippers.

In the bathroom, I stood for a moment and looked at my tired appearance. My blue eyes definitely had some faint shadows under them. My naturally blonde hair was mussed and needed brushed. It was well past my shoulders now, and although I liked it at least three inches shorter, Mick loved it long, so I had allowed it to keep growing with only a trim now and then. My bangs had been in my eyes, so I trimmed them myself yesterday, and I could see now they were slightly shorter on the left side.

I slipped my blouse and slacks off and checked my baby bump. It was something I delighted in doing every evening. I preferred to check it with Mick, but I was still happy to run my hands over my belly myself. We had opted not to know the sex of the baby. It was an old-fashioned thing to do, and it meant we couldn’t decorate the nursery yet, but we both wanted the surprise when the baby was born. Secretly, I was hoping for a girl, and from a few comments Mick had made, I thought he was, too.

My weight hadn’t changed at all, and I was still toned and trim. At 5’7”, I was happy with how I looked, and I hoped I could lose any weight from the baby quickly by playing racquetball.

Fifteen minutes later, I had brushed my teeth, changed my clothes, and was comfortable in Uncle Jack’s bed. I didn’t even have a chapter of my book read before I fell into a fitful sleep.

Four hours later, my stomach was roiling and zombies were chasing me in my dreams. I was trying to call out for help before Chris De Floss could slice my head off with his dental floss. I managed to get myself awake, and realized I was drenched in sweat. The pizza definitely didn’t sit well. I took a change of pajamas to the bathroom, and after wiping my face, neck, and arms with a cold cloth, I changed my clothes and found an antacid in the medicine chest for my stomach.

As I stepped out of the bathroom, I turned the light off and stood still for a moment. I was sure I had heard a noise to my right. I strained to listen, and I heard it again. Someone was trying the door handle of the condo. I tiptoed to the door and listened, but I didn’t hear anything more.

My heart was racing, and I wondered if I was mistaken about the noise. I waited for several more minutes before turning the knob slowly and opening the door a crack. I glanced at Mrs. Fisher’s door, but no one was there. I was surprised there wasn’t any crime scene tape over the doorway.

I bravely opened the door a little more and stuck my head through the doorway just enough to look down the hallway toward the elevator. I saw him for a moment before he stepped into the elevator. It was a man wearing a gray hoodie. It had to be the man who was wearing the gorilla head today. The build was the same. Why was he at our door in the middle of the night? Had he already been in here once today? I didn’t see where he had originally come from when I saw him running down the hall earlier.

After locking the door, I padded back to my bedroom and climbed into bed. I managed to fall back to sleep, but Chris De Floss and his zombies were with me until morning.

“This is a great spot,” I said.

“I like it, too,” Darby said. “It feels like we have more room than the other contestants.”

We were in a large, convention hall at the Wilder Hotel. One hundred cooking stations had been set up with a stove, a countertop with a small cupboard and mini fridge underneath, and a sink with a limited amount of running water. Track lighting overhead provided bright light to each station.

Darby was checking to be sure the appliances he would need were in the small cupboard. Taped to the countertop was a list of the ingredients that would be supplied to him tomorrow. I didn’t disturb him while he double-checked it for accuracy.

It was 2:00 in the afternoon, and although it was busy in the hall, I was guessing most of the contestants had probably registered earlier in the day.

Darby’s station was number seventy-nine, which put him on the end of an aisle. That left a wide open space to our right. It seemed an advantage as it would make it easier for me to help but also stay out of his way. Farther to our right, in the shadows of the room, were tiered risers with seating for spectators. I hadn’t given any thought to people watching the contest, but it made sense that friends and family would need a place for viewing.

Darby looked up with a smile.

“Is everything good?” I asked.

“It sure is,” he said. “I’m excited. My grandmother made this Buttercream Coffee Cake every year at Christmas. I loved it more than Christmas cookies or candy. When she finally gave the recipe to me, I asked her why she made me wait so long to get it, and she said, ‘Because you never asked for it.’ Isn’t that funny? I know she would be proud of me this weekend, and I hope I make a good showing in her memory.”

His words brought tears to my eyes, and I said softly as I reached out to touch his arm, “You will Darby. She’ll be watching and beaming with pride.” A tear slid down my cheek.

“There isn’t any reason to cry,” he said quickly. “Are you ok?”

I sniffled. “Yes, it’s these awful hormones. I’m sad your grandmother isn’t here to see you win this, and I can’t help myself.” I started rummaging in my purse for a tissue.

“Susan, I’ve never seen you this emotional before,” he said. “You’ve cried plenty of times, but not over little things, or even sentimental things. Are you sure you can handle this tomorrow?”

I wiped my eyes and blew my nose. “I’m good. See,” I said with a cheesy smile on my face. “I’m smiling. I’m fine. Everything will go great tomorrow. You’ll see.”

He laughed and said, “Ok, come on, let’s go find something to eat.”

“Why don’t we go to Ditka’s Restaurant?” I asked. “It will be fun to tell Mick we were there, and it’s close to here and the condo.”

“Sounds good to me,” he said as he started to lead the way out of the hall.

I was both tired and hungry. After not feeling well and dreaming of zombies all night, I had forced myself out of bed at 7:00. I called Mick and talked to him for twenty minutes, but I still hadn’t been able to bring myself to tell him about the murder in the building. I knew in my heart the news would worry him and ruin his vacation, and he would immediately think I was involved in some way.

After showering, blow-drying my hair, and using a curling iron to give it a soft curl around the bottom, I dressed for the day in a pair of comfortable winter white corduroys, brown suede ankle boots, and a black and brown long-sleeve tunic.

Darby still wasn’t up, so I made coffee and looked through the refrigerator. Omelets sounded good, and I started chopping vegetables. The eggs were whisked and ready to go in the pan when he came out from his bedroom.

“Good morning, Sunshine,” he said cheerfully. “How did you sleep last night?”

“I didn’t,” I said. “The pizza tried to kill me. I tossed and turned all night, and I dreamed about zombies.”

He chuckled. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Vegetable omelets, toast, and coffee. Is that good for you?” I asked.

“Perfect,” he said. “Can we hold off for fifteen minutes? I can shower, dress, and be ready to eat in fifteen.”