Jennifer L. Hart - Southern Pasta Shop 02 - Murder À La Flambé by Jennifer L. Hart

my clone?
    After finishing the meatballs, I headed out into the dining area. The midafternoon lull had settled, and I took the time to wipe down tables and chairs as well as remove the lukewarm pasta dishes from the display case. I made the mistake of looking out the big plate-glass window and seeing Lacey L'Amour strolling arm in arm with none other than the good sheriff. She'd attached herself to him like a burr, holding on to his arm as he escorted her to her car. Man, if Lizzy saw that, I wouldn't know who to root for in the knock-down drag-out kerfuffle that would ensue.
    I frowned. Speaking of Lizzy, where the heck was she? Considering the bomb she'd dropped on me the night before, I would have thought she'd actually show up at the pasta shop to talk.
    Unless I'd imagined the entire thing. Did concussions cause hallucinations?
    I dug my cell phone out of my pocket and had dialed Jones to ask him if he'd seen his sister the night before, when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
    "Speak of the devil," I said as I stood on tiptoe to kiss the handsome man who was offering me a bouquet of red roses. "I was just about to call you. What are these for?"
    He handed me the flowers, thirteen in all. "You told me that one rose means I love you, and a dozen means I screwed up. I thought it was fitting that I get you thirteen so they say both at once."
    I grinned up at him. "You really do listen to me. That's so cool. Most of the time I don't even listen to me. But we discussed this yesterday. You have nothing to be sorry for, right?"
    I expected him to agree, and a wave of dizziness hit me when he didn't.
    Jones's expression was grim when he murmured, "We need to talk."
    I set the flowers down on a nearby table. "About what?"
    "My ex."
    I sat down.

Sweet 'N Tangy Meatballs
     
    You'll need:
    1 tablespoon olive oil
    1 small red onion, diced
    1 small red bell pepper, cut into chunks
    1 10 oz jar marinara sauce
    1 8 oz can pineapple chunks
    2 tablespoons apricot jam
    1 package 20 oz frozen, fully-cooked, cocktail-sized meatballs, thawed
     
    Heat olive oil. Cook onion and red pepper, stirring occasionally, 4 minutes. Remove from pan and set aside. Stir marinara, jam, and 1 tablespoon of reserved pineapple juice together. Bring to a boil over medium-high heat. Add meatballs. Reduce and simmer for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally so sauce doesn't stick. Stir in pineapple, and heat through. Add cooked veggies, and serve.
     
    **Andy's note: I know, I know. A real chef doesn't use frozen meatballs. You don't have to for this recipe. But let's face it, sometimes speed trumps hours slaving over a hot stove prepping meatballs that are going to get smothered in sauce—and I swear, your guests won't know the difference. Especially if you serve them up over some tri-colored linguini!

CHAPTER EIGHT
     
    "What about her?" I asked, wishing I hadn't stirred this particular pot. Dread coiled in my gut. Why oh why could I never just leave things alone?
    Jones sat across from me, his hands flat on the table between us. We were far enough away that Francine O'Reilly and Tommy Gibbons, the only current customers, couldn't overhear us. "You know that my marriage was never legally binding."
    I nodded, not taking my eyes off him. "So you said."
    "Which I didn't know at the time. I was completely naïve. Even though I followed cheating spouses for a living, it never once occurred to me that Rochelle had an entire life separate from me. I was her dirty little secret." His tone was bitter
    My throat went dry. Jones had said the same thing about his mother, how she'd been just another mistress in a long line of them for his father. How it must have devastated him to find out that the woman he loved viewed him in the same dismissive light as his father had perceived his mother. "I'm sure that must have hurt."
    "It did. The thing that I didn't mention was that before we got…involved, Rochelle was also my business partner, the other PI in my