Grace, meanwhile, was making neat piles of forks, knives, and spoons while cross-examining Julian on any knowledge he might have of Drew Wellington.
Julian concentrated on his cutting board. “I know he was seeing, you know, ah, having an affair with Patricia Ingersoll, ’cuz Marla told me. Patricia is that woman who heads the weight-loss—”
“I know her,” Grace interrupted briskly as she gazed at my printout for the chicken prep. She asked if it was okay to drain the brine off the chicken, rinse it, and pat it dry. Since it was a messy job, I was all too happy to acquiesce. I started to show her where the plastic gloves were that she needed for poultry handling, but she said she knew where they were. How she seemed to have a second sense as to where everything was located in the kitchen, fr
