Cream Caramel and Murder

by K E O'Connor

  “Kendal with a serious girlfriend?” Rupert tipped back his head and roared with laughter. “That would never happen. Kendal enjoyed the ladies, but he never stuck with the same one for more than a few months. He said why bother settling for just one woman when there were so many out there to enjoy.”

  “That’s an interesting way to think about women.” I arched a brow.

  Rupert’s cheeks flushed. “Of course, I don’t think that. I’m waiting for a special lady to come into my life.”

  I smiled. “I’m sure you are. I don’t think that you’re a womanizer.”

  “I’d never dream of doing such a thing,” he spluttered out. “The right girl’s waiting for me, I know it. I’m just not certain she knows that she’s the right one for me.”

  I looked away as my cheeks grew warm. Rupert was such a sweet guy, and if I’d met him in any other circumstances, I’d have been tempted to pursue something with him. But there was a line you should never cross.

  “Getting back to Kendal’s relationships, he didn’t talk about bringing someone along to your get-together?”

  “He said nothing to me. Although he has been seeing someone’s wife. And of course, he’s been in an on-off relationship with Izzie Northcott for a long time.”

  “What’s the current situation with their relationship?”

  “As far as I know, he got rid of her some time ago.”

  “What did Izzie think about that?”

  “I imagine she wasn’t happy, but Kendal was good at manipulating her to get what he wanted.”

  Did Campbell know about Izzie and her relationship with Kendal? How could I tell him there might be a jealous ex-girlfriend on the scene without revealing that I was still poking around and asking questions?

  “We’re stopping now, if that’s okay,” one of the gardeners called out.

  Rupert raised a hand and nodded at her. “Of course.” He walked back toward the gardeners, and I walked alongside him.

  “I know this is a terrible business, but Campbell will sort things out,” Rupert said. “Try not to worry. This is a one-off. We can’t have the castle getting a reputation for being a murder hot spot.”

  “Absolutely not,” I said. “I don’t want to start baking cakes for the castle ghosts because the visitors stop turning up.” I’d meant it as a joke, but the horror on Rupert’s face suggested I’d put my foot in it.

  “You really believe the castle is haunted?” he asked.

  I chuckled, which died when he didn’t join in. “So the guidebooks say. Isn’t it?”

  Rupert glanced up at the vast stone building. “I ... well, I guess stranger things have happened. And I’m always losing things. When I was younger, I always blamed the ghosts when my toys went missing.”

  I nodded and leaned closer. “It’s the cold spots that get me.”

  “Oh! You feel them too?”

  A clattering sound had me turning. I walked over when I saw a heap of dropped tools. “Let me help with those.” I placed the cake tin on the ground.

  Meredith and Jacob were hurrying around, picking up the tools.

  Meredith pushed her hat back and smiled. “Thanks. I thought I’d be able to get this lot inside in one go. More haste less speed, that’s what my mom always used to tell me.”

  I shifted aside several spades and a hoe that was already in the trunk to make room for everything else. “It looks like you’ve been busy today.”

  “I love working on the beds,” Meredith said. “You can’t beat a bit of exercise in the great outdoors.”

  “Give it a few months, and that planting will look beautiful,” Jacob said as he piled in more tools.

  “It already does. Here, you might as well have the rest of these.” I handed over the tin of cakes. “I expect the rest of the gardeners have worked up quite an appetite.”

  “They look great,” Jacob said.

  “Oooh! Thanks. They’ll love these.” Meredith hurried away to join the rest of the group and hand over the cakes.

  “Holly Holmes!” Chef Heston leaned out the kitchen door, his face red. “Get back to work. You’ve got deliveries to make this afternoon.”

  “Oh dear.” Rupert hurried over to me. “I hope I haven’t got you into trouble by keeping you chatting.”

  “Don’t worry, Chef Heston just enjoys yelling at me. I’ll see you later.” I dashed back to the kitchen.

  I glanced at Rupert as he stood watching the gardeners pack the rest of their equipment away. Dealing with a bully was a good motive for murder. But I couldn’t believe Rupert was involved in what had happened, and he had his friends as alibis, although they all sounded like they’d been pretty drunk that night.

  I shook my head. Rupert was a kind, sweet guy, not a killer.

  I needed to look elsewhere to find out what happened to Kendal Jakes. And my elsewhere had to involve the scorned ex-girlfriend.

  Chapter 11

  “These hazelnut and dark chocolate truffle tarts look delicious,” Mavis Bickerly said as I handed over my final delivery for the day.

  “I’m also experimenting with a new cupcake flavor,” I said.

  Mavis’s large dark eyes widened as she peered into the box. “What surprise have you brought me?” She lived alone and ran a book group from her cottage on Cedar Lane. Every month, she placed a generous cake order for her group to enjoy.

  “I know you love cupcakes, so I added a few free samples. They’re caramel cream and maple roasted pecan. Feedback’s welcome. Let me know what you and your book club think of them. I want to get them just right.”

  “Everything you touch in that kitchen turns out right,” Mavis said with a warm smile. She looked over my shoulder. “Still no van?”

  “Chef Heston likes me out on the bike. And I don’t really mind. It helps burn off all the calories I eat taste testing my cakes.”

  Mavis chuckled. “Lucky you. I only have to look at this box of cakes and I feel like I’ve gained five pounds.”

  “They’re worth it.” I waved goodbye and headed back to my recently repaired delivery bike which I’d propped against the cottage wall.

  Meatball sat waiting patiently in the basket. He wagged his tail when he saw me.

  “That’s it. Last delivery of the day. How about we head back to the castle and get you some dinner?”

  “Woof woof.” Meatball bounced in the basket and his tail wagged faster.

  A woman I didn’t recognize strode toward me, her phone against her ear. Her high nude heels clipped against the ground as she pushed a strand of perfectly blow-dried blonde hair off her heart-shaped face. “And, apparently, the body was discovered in the woods.”

  I froze and stared at her. She had to be talking about Kendal.

  “I’m telling you the truth! My sources are accurate.” She glanced at me, and her eyes narrowed. “Hold on just a moment.” She didn’t say another word until she’d passed me.

  I wheeled the bike around and followed her at a discreet distance, making sure I could still hear what she had to say.

  “I always knew something like this would happen,” the woman said. “He couldn’t keep his pants zipped. Someone’s angry husband was going to get to him in the end.”

  This woman clearly had a connection to Kendal. She didn’t live in the village, though. I’d never seen her before. Was this one of Kendal’s mystery women? Maybe even the woman he’d had inside the castle who’d left the lipstick on his collar. I had to find out.

  “I’ll have to get somebody else to take me to the Summer Ball.” She giggled. “I’m not being cold, I’m being practical. We had it all arranged. I’d even picked out the tuxedo I wanted him to wear. I’ll have to start from scratch, and all the best men have already been taken. I’d rather pretend I was sick than go with someone else’s ugly cast off.”

  Whoever this woman was, she didn’t seem bothered about Kendal being dead. She was more focused on her social life being inconvenienced.

  The woman turned abruptly and step
ped out into the road. She stared straight at me and scowled. “I’ll call you back.” She lowered her phone. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I stopped the bike, my cheeks heating. “Nothing! I mean, just riding my bike back to work.”

  “No you’re not.” She jabbed a finger at me. “And don’t even think about asking for a selfie with me.”

  “Um, I wasn’t going to. I don’t know who you are.”

  She snorted a laugh. “Sure you don’t. Didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s rude to listen into a private conversation?”

  “Well, you weren’t exactly being private. You were talking very loudly in the middle of a public place.”

  The woman scowled at me. “Even so, mind your own business. And stay out of mine.”

  “I didn’t mean to overhear, but you mentioned a body in the woods.”

  Her pink glossed lips pressed together. “Hoping to sell a story to the papers about me being here at the same time as Kendal? That’s old news. You won’t get a penny for revealing my location. Everyone knows we were an item. Do an image search. We’re everywhere.”

  I had no idea what she was talking about. “I wouldn’t know where to start with selling a story to anyone. And if I did that, I’d probably lose my job.”

  “You’re employed?” She looked down her button nose at me. “I thought you were homeless.”

  “What? No! Why do you think that?” I was in my black pants and jacket I used for cycling in. I might look a bit windswept and pink from cycling around for the last few hours, but homeless!

  She shrugged. “It’s that greasy hair and flea-bitten dog drooling in your basket that gives you away.”

  “Meatball isn’t flea-bitten. He’s very clean. He gets a bath once a week. And I’m not greasy, I’m just a little ... sweaty from all the bike riding.”

  She shooed me away with a manicured hand, although one of the false nails was missing. So, she wasn’t Little Miss Perfect after all. “Well, go on. Get on with your deliveries.”

  I shook my head, refusing to allow her rudeness to deter me. “Did you know Kendal?”

  “You’re telling me that you knew Kendal Jakes? He wouldn’t associate with somebody like you.”

  I glared at her. “He might. What do you mean by that?”

  Meatball growled and gave a single bark.

  Her haughty gaze ran over both of us, but there was a flicker of doubt in her blue eyes. “Did you really know Kendal?”

  “We’ve met.”

  She stepped toward me. “How? Don’t tell me you dated. He wouldn’t be interested in a sweaty mess like you.”

  I shrugged the insult off. Riding the bicycle and tugging a cart load of cakes around the village would always work up a sweat. It didn’t bother me. I was fit and got to eat cake every day without piling on the pounds.

  “I didn’t know him in that way. How about you? How did you know Kendal?”

  “What makes you think I did?”

  “I overheard you say that he was planning to take you to a ball.”

  “You were listening in!”

  It was my turn to shrug. “You were talking loudly.”

  She scowled at me. “Why the interest in him, anyway?”

  “I work at Audley Castle. I—”

  “Oh! I understand now. You must be one of the servants.”

  I sighed. “We’re not called servants. This is the twenty-first century. But I do work in the kitchens. I’m—”

  The woman stepped closer. “The kitchens! Did you serve Kendal his food? How did he seem?”

  “Yes, I served him. He seemed ... drunk.”

  “Typical. Tell me everything.”

  Maybe if I shared a little information, this mystery woman might be more forthcoming. “I met him once, the evening before he died.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Was he with anyone?”

  “Yes. Lord Rupert and his other friends from school.”

  She waved her hand in the air. “I don’t mean the boys. Did he have a woman with him?”

  “I didn’t see anyone,” I said. “Were you two dating?”

  “We were close. I had thought we might marry once he’d had his fun.”

  My eyes widened. “Did you visit Kendal at the castle?”

  A smile crossed her face before it vanished. “What a ridiculous idea. How would I be able to get past the castle security?” Her grin returned, suggesting she’d done just that.

  “You must be sad about what happened to him. How did you find out?”

  Her gaze ran over me. “I am sad. Kendal Jakes would have been a wealthy man when his father finally died.”

  Wow! This woman was all heart. “You haven’t told me your name.”

  “Nor shall I.” Her phone rang, and she checked the caller ID before turning away and answering it. “Jasmine! I was about to call you. I’ve got some incredible gossip. You’re not going to believe this.”

  “Woof.” Meatball growled quietly.

  “I couldn’t agree more.” I petted him on the head and waited, my gaze not leaving the woman as she strolled along the street. She was still chatting on her phone when she turned into the Audley Hotel and disappeared.

  I wheeled my bike to the hotel and peeked through the window. There was no sign of her.

  “You stay here,” I said to Meatball. “Guard the bicycle. If anyone tries to take it, you bark loudly.”

  “Woof woof.”

  Not that I worried about my bike being stolen in Audley St. Mary. It was generally a safe village. The most reported crimes involved dropped litter and the occasional owner who didn’t pick up after their dog.

  I walked into the reception lobby of the hotel and smiled when I saw John Steadman behind the desk. The wall behind him was covered in postcards from places all over the world. John sent them to the hotel whenever he went away.

  He’d worked here for three years. It was only supposed to be a summer job before he went traveling full time. What turned into one summer quickly expanded, and he was a permanent fixture at the hotel, spending his three weeks off cramming in as much traveling as possible.

  “Holly! What brings you here? Need a room for someone visiting?” A warm smile lit John’s clean-shaven face as his brown eyes crinkled at the corners.

  “No, actually I’m interested in someone who might be a guest here.”

  “You want me to reveal secrets about our residents.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I’m pretty sure that will break all sorts of confidentiality agreements.”

  I laughed. “You make it sound like you’re working for the Secret Service.”

  “Sometimes, the things our guests get up to, they really should make us sign confidentiality agreements. I’ve seen things that would turn that pretty hair white.” He shook his head.

  “I’m just trying to find out about the woman who walked through the lobby a moment ago. Is she staying here?”

  He pursed his lips and tilted his head. “I do have an answer for you, but you need to make it worth my while.”

  “How about a box of triple chocolate fudge brownies?”

  “With candy pop sprinkles and a warm chocolate ganache to dip them into?”

  I nodded and smiled. Here was a man who loved his chocolate. “Whatever you want.”

  He glanced around to check no one was listening. “You have a deal. I can never resist your treats.”

  “Great. So, the woman? Is she staying here?”

  “She is. And she’s a haughty madam.”

  “What’s her name?”

  “Miss Isabella Northcott. Although the way she behaves, you’d think she was next in line for the throne.”

  My eyes widened. I’d heard the name Izzie mentioned several times. This must be her. “How long has she been staying?”

  “She checked in two days ago.”

  Which was the same day Lord Rupert’s friends arrived at the castle. “Have you seen much of her since she arrived?”

  “Unfortunately, I have. She’
s extremely demanding. We had to change her room three times and then provide fresh out of the packet Egyptian cotton sheets for her bed. All of our linens are the finest quality and get laundered daily, but she didn’t believe us. The first room we put her in was on the wrong side of the hotel, the second was too cold, and the third one was simply adequate. If I was in charge of this place, I’d have thrown her out on her bony behind and sent her to the hotel in the next village. She’s complained about everything, and she has a terrible temper. I don’t think she’s given anyone a tip. Mean and tight-fisted. That’s not attractive.”

  “Has she done anything odd while she’s been here?”

  “Other than be extremely rude to everyone she encounters?”

  “I was thinking more about her movements. Has she been out? Or had any visitors?”

  “Miss Northcott spends most of her time talking on her phone,” he said. “Although the first night she was here, she went out at about nine and didn’t return until after two o’clock in the morning. I was on the late shift, bad luck for me. So I saw her leave and return.”

  “You’re sure it was that late?” Those timings fit perfectly for when Kendal was murdered. Izzie could easily have made her way to the castle and seen him.

  “Absolutely certain. There’s not much else to do other than clock watch on the night shift. But I always have my e-reader with me.” He lifted a small black case from his desk. “The boss doesn’t mind what we do to keep ourselves awake. I even like to put on a few tunes and dance around the lobby when I feel my eyes getting heavy. She was definitely out doing something she shouldn’t late at night. Why the interest in her?”

  “Oh! Well, I think she might have visited the castle that night.”

  “And she put someone’s nose out of joint?” He shook his head. “Miss Northcott acts as if she’s some high-class lady, but with manners like that, she needs to rethink her role in life.”

  “Do you have CCTV in the hotel?”

  “Of course. It was installed two years ago during the upgrade. Why? You want to have a sneaky look in some guests’ rooms?”

  “You have cameras in the rooms?”

  He chuckled. “Of course not. We have them out the front and the back so we can see everyone coming and going, and we have one tucked up in the corner there so the reception lobby is covered at all times. They’re the most vulnerable areas. The boss did it to help bring down the cost of the insurance.”