Read To Catch a Cook: An Angie Amalfi Mystery for Free Online

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    Angie, also stooping low, said, “Once, just once, I’d like to hear a bit of encouragement from you.”
    “Maybe I’d feel more encouraging if my knees weren’t getting so stiff I’m afraid they might never straighten,” Connie whined. “I don’t relish spending my life looking like Groucho Marx.”
    Earlier that evening, when Paavo called to say he’d be working late, the idea for the perfect addition to her video restaurant review popped into Angie’s head. She decided to act.
    Now, both dressed in black jeans, black turtleneck sweaters, and black boots, she and Connie huddled in the alley behind the Pisces restaurant where they’d eaten the day before.
    Angie checked and doubled-checked her new palm-sized video camcorder. “Just relax,” she said to her fidgeting friend. “I’m trying to figure this out. I think that window looks in on the kitchen, but it’s too high off the ground for me to see into. I’m going to have to get up on something.”
    “Forget it. Let’s go home.”
    Ignoring her suggestion, Angie tugged Connie along in a half crouch, half crawl. “We need to move one of these big garbage cans to a spot under the window.”
    They found a can that was fairly empty, though reeking nonetheless. Each took a handle and carried it where Angie indicated.
    “That can isn’t very steady.” Connie nudged it and watched it rock.
    “You worry more than Little Red Riding Hood facing the wolf!” Angie tried to hoist herself up onto the flat, round lid, but couldn’t do it. The top reached to her armpit. “I need a boost.”
    “This is dangerous, Angie,” Connie grumbled, bending over and clasping her hands so Angie could use them as a step.
    “It’s fine.”
    Angie stepped as Connie held firm and lifted.With a wobbly clatter Angie was atop the garbage can on her knees, and turned to look at Connie. “Connie?”
    “Down here.” She sat on the ground rubbing her hands.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Only if you call being used as a ladder and tumbling on your butt okay.”
    “You’re okay.” Angie stood up on the groaning lid to look in the restaurant’s window.
    “What do you see?” Connie asked, rising to her feet.
    “This is so cool! I’m looking into the kitchen!” Her plan was working.
    “Fantastic!”
    “Unfortunately, there’s a rack in front of this window. It’s loaded with pans and blocks most of the view. I’m going to have to go to the next window to the left. That one should work better.”
    “Come down, then,” Connie urged.
    “Look, this can wasn’t very heavy. Why don’t you just drag another one over here? Then I’ll just step from this can to the next one.”
    “We’re on a hill, Angie. The cans are too unsteady for that.”
    “They’re huge and half-full of garbage. They aren’t going anywhere.”
    “Since when have I become Connie-the-garbage-woman?”
    There were times, Angie knew, when silence was golden.
    Connie wrestled another can into place. Angie gingerly stepped onto it. “Much better.” She raised her camera. “Testing. One, two—oops!” She ducked down.
    “What is it?” Instinctively Connie ducked, too. Her fierce whisper floated up to Angie.
    “Someone’s coming. Shush!”
    Angie slowly raised herself up to peer over the windowsill. The heavyset chef she’d seen earlier stood with his back to the window, chopping chicken. She had to get this on film. She put the camera up to her face, hoping against hope it was working.
    The man’s backside filled the lens. It was not a pretty sight.
    “What are you doing?” Connie tugged faintly at her ankle. “Come down before someone sees you!”
    “Quiet,” Angie whispered back. “I need another can over there.” She pointed to her left.
    “Angie, I don’t think—”
    “Hurry, Connie! This is a great shot!”
    She waited until she heard Connie say, “Okay.” Keeping her eye on the camera, she lifted a foot through the air, then toed the garbage can that Connie had put into