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like an insecticide bomb that began to choke the life out of her marriage. She and Gary went to counseling, got more involved in their church, and things seemed to smooth over.

    But Lucy never fully forgave him for the affair. Even though he said it only happened the one time. He’d been at a nearby bar and just gotten uninhibited after a night of drinking. Since he’d never really been a drinking man, she believed his story.

    Now she wasn’t so sure.

    Gary and the new woman Diane, lived a party lifestyle, always going out to clubs and bars, and then packing up and moving across the border—something Lucy was still suspicious about. Diane had plenty of money, so Gary didn’t have to worry about business capital and ventures anymore. Nor was his income what it had once been, so Lucy’s child support was practically nothing.

    The state of Idaho based child support on an 80–20 custody arrangement, even though she had the boys one hundred percent of the time. It wasn’t fair. Gary’s $346.00 a month for two children didn’t stretch far. By the time they were done paying off some credit card debt with the equity in their house, the asset balance didn’t leave her much extra.

    She’d taken every cent from the sale of the house and socked it away in the bank to tide herself over until she started getting some clients.

    Falling into the personal chef field had been a fluke. One of her neighbors knew she liked to cook, and had asked Lucy if she could fix a meal for a party in her home. Lucy jumped on the opportunity, and it was a huge success. Word of mouth spread, and within six months Lucy had been cooking for nine families. The money wasn’t rolling in, but it had kept her and the boys in the black, and she’d made ends meet.

    She could have made a reasonable living in Boise if Jason hadn’t taken a wrong turn. Maybe she was jumping the gun, but her son had changed when Gary left, and she was worried about him. The marijuana in his locker and the other incidents were ones she looked at very seriously. She’d had to make a choice. Leave him in a city where he had memories of a father who’d disappeared, or take him out and start them fresh.

    The latter seemed her best option.

    She liked Red Duck and she hoped things would turn around. Before she made the decision to move, she’d consulted with the only personal chef in town to get his take on potential business.

    Raul Nunez was firmly established and had a heavily booked clientele list. He had his hands full, but he’d fitted her into his schedule and had met her for coffee. He’d been very flamboyant, very over-the-top and extremely candid about how much he made and who he cooked for. She’d found his personality rather saccharine. Artificially sweet to the point that her teeth ached as she listened to him go on and on about himself. But clearly, he had a knack for business, and had more than he could keep up with.

    Funny how he hadn’t viewed her as a threat. She’d thought about it, and after the fact came to the conclusion he didn’t think she’d give him a run for his money.

    She was here to prove him wrong.

    In the Timberline area, cooking in people’s homes was like a fast-food drive-through to high schoolers at lunchtime. Many of the wealthy didn’t want to fight reservation lines in the town’s high-end restaurants when the tourist season was in full swing.

    While she didn’t have any clients lined up yet, she’d left flyers all around town and on the grocery store bulletin board. So far, she’d received two calls. One from a woman who wanted to know if she could make Raul’s famous chicken adobo Friday night because Raul was already booked. And another asking her if she knew where Raul was, he wasn’t picking up his cell.

    Certainly not the most promising leads, but while she’d had them captive, she’d mentioned she was available Friday night and made a delicious tuna Cozumel and beefsteaks with mustard-herb rub.

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