by Lee Hollis
to the gentleman standing
at the front door of your office.
Warmest Regards,
THE LADIES WHO LUNCH
Utter shock would be an understatement. How did these VIPs even know who I was? The only possible answer was that they had read my column, but I couldn’t imagine that could be true.
I jumped up from my desk and raced to the front door, swinging it open to find a well-dressed, quietly understated man I had never seen before standing on the front step.
With a warm smile, he plucked the invitation out of my hand and said he would see me Friday at the appointed time. I opened my mouth to thank him but no words came out. I was still too thunderstruck by what was happening. He turned and marched back to an extravagant silver sedan. I wasn’t sure of the make or model, just that it was expensive looking. He slid in the driver’s seat and pulled away, leaving me standing in the doorway of the Island Times office, mouth still agape.
How on earth was I going to get through today and the rest of the week knowing Friday at noon was looming? And more important, how was I going to make it through without telling anyone? Not even my brother Randy, or BFFs Mona and Liddy? I tell them everything going on in my life! This was going to be torture!
I decided to plow ahead and just keep my mouth shut and make a family favorite—a creamy Goat Cheese Mac and Cheese casserole. I purchased the goat cheese from a local dairy farm I often frequented in order to stay within the rules.
After pleading with Sal to allow me a personal day on Friday even though I had already used them up and it was only August, I nervously prepared my dish. I still could not believe that I was now one of the chosen few, and that soon the mystery of the “Ladies Who Lunch” would be solved! I would finally know their true identities!
Right on schedule, Friday at noon, the same silver sedan pulled up in front of my house, and with the bubbling, hot Goat Cheese Mac and Cheese casserole fresh from my oven and packed in a carrying case that I cradled in my arms, I headed down the driveway.
The same gentleman who took my invitation card stepped out and gave me a polite nod. He opened the back door, and I was about to climb in when I suddenly noticed four other dishes packed for travel sitting on the backseat. It suddenly dawned on me that my Goat Cheese Mac and Cheese casserole was going to meet the “Ladies Who Lunch” but not me! That’s why their identities had remained such a closely guarded secret. None of the other chefs they approached had ever met them in the flesh either! I laughed as the gentleman took my carrying case from me and set it down on the backseat along with the others. He then tipped his hat at me, walked back to the driver’s side of the sedan, slid in, and drove away.
The next morning, on my doorstep, I discovered my freshly washed casserole dish and a note thanking me for my delicious and decadent contribution. I was assured it had been enjoyed immensely by the ladies, and as an added bonus, there was a gift certificate to a local high-end restaurant. The amount was so generous I was able to treat my two best friends along with my brother and his husband to a spectacular and memorable meal. Let’s just say we did it up in style, and had plenty of toasts with our Rum Sunset cocktails to the “Ladies Who Lunch.”
Rum Sunsets
6 ounces orange juice
2 ounces light rum
1 tablespoon grenadine
Lime slice for garnish
Pour your orange juice, rum, and mix into a glass filled with ice. Add your grenadine on the top and add a slice of lime for garnish. Now sit back and enjoy the sunset!
Creamy Baked Goat Cheese Mac and Cheese
2 tablespoons butter
1 clove garlic, minced
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil leaves
1 cup panko bread crumbs
1¾ cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese
1 pound (16 ounces) pasta shells (or feel free
to use your favorite pasta)
2 cups heavy cream
16 ounces goat cheese
½ cup pesto sauce, store-bought or homemade
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon freshly ground pepper
Spray or butter a 2-quart baking dish and set aside.
Melt the two tablespoons butter in a small saucepan and then add your garlic, basil, panko, and ¼ cup of the grated cheese. Mix well and set aside. Bring a large pot of salted water to a boil and cook your pasta according to the directions on the box.
Meanwhile simmer your 2 cups of cream in a medium saucepan over low heat 5–6 minutes, until a little thick and reduced. Save at least ½ cup of the pasta water and then drain your pasta in a colander and set aside. Place your pasta pot back on the stove on low and add the warm cream and goat cheese and whisk until smooth. Then add the rest of the Parmesan, whisking until melted.
Turn off heat and add the cooked pasta and pesto, mixing until everything is coated, adding your pasta water a little at a time if mixture is too thick. Salt and pepper to taste.
Pour the pasta in the greased baking dish and top with the reserved butter and panko mixture.
Place under a preheated broiler until the crust is brown and the top is bubbly.
Cool for a few minutes then dig in and enjoy!
Chapter 15
Later that afternoon, Hayley stumbled down to the kitchen in search of some canned soup in the pantry that she could heat up on a burner, hoping it might warm her up and make her feel a little better.
She found some of the kitchen help, the pretty young girl Gloria, who had previously been so helpful with her account of witnessing Conrad crushing up some mysterious pills in Penelope’s warm milk before bed, and another staffer Rose, about the same age, plump, rosy-cheeked, with frizzy black hair that she had tightly tied up in a bun. They were plopped down on a pair of kitchen stools next to the island, whispering and giggling until they noticed Hayley approaching.
They quickly hopped off the stools and snapped to attention.
“Hello, Ms. Powell,” Rose chirped, a forced smile on her face. “We heard you were a bit under the weather.”
“Yes, I am . . . I fell off the boat during our outing earlier today, and now I’m fighting a nasty cold,” Hayley said.
Gloria relaxed, and gave Rose a furtive look, signaling her that she needn’t worry.
Hayley was not an enemy.
“I’m looking for some soup,” Hayley said, heading toward the pantry.
“Oh, there’s some leftover homemade chicken noodle soup in the fridge that Penelope made herself. It’s quite delicious. Let me warm some up for you,” Rose said, scurrying off to the refrigerator.
“Thank you so much. I’m hoping I feel better by dinnertime since I’m sure our esteemed hostess will have the camera crew recording us eating every bite of whatever she’s preparing,” Hayley said, regretting ever jumping at the chance to spend the weekend here.
And then she sneezed.
And sneezed again.
And again.
Gloria tore a bunch of paper towels off a thick roll on the counter and handed them to Hayley, who accepted them gratefully and blew her nose.
“If not, I may just give up and go home,” she said, balling up the used towels when she was finished and tossing them in the trash bin.
“Who was on the boat with you today?” Gloria asked casually.
“Penelope, Gerard, Tristan, Carol . . .”
“So all the usual suspects,” Rose said as she stood at the stove, slowly stirring the soup in a copper saucepan.
“Yes, plus the crew,” Hayley added.
“Oh, that Tommy is so cute!” Rose cooed, lost in her fantasies, probably of young Tommy tenderly ravishing her during a romantic afternoon sail.
“She’s got such a huge crush on him,” Gloria said, laughing.
But then Gloria suddenly got serious, and leaned into Hayley and whispered, “So which one do you think pushed you overboard?”
Hayley was taken aback.
She hadn’t expect this line of questioning fro
m one of Penelope’s employees, but then again, she and Gloria had somewhat bonded the night before, cleaning up the mess from Conrad’s drunken hissy fit, so she probably felt at ease and comfortable talking freely to her.
“So you heard about the crazy lady screaming about someone shoving her over the railing, leaving her to drown at sea?”
“You bet we did!” Rose said breathlessly, as she poured the steaming soup from the saucepan into a bowl, peppering it with a few spices before grabbing a spoon from the cupboard and delivering it to Hayley.
“Thank you,” Hayley said, gratefully accepting the soup.
“I’m Rose, by the way. I work with Gloria.”
“I’m Hayley, nice to meet you.”
“Pleasure. I’ve only been working here for a few weeks. Gloria got me the job. We’re best friends so it’s nice we get to work together.”
“We tell each other all our secrets,” Gloria said, smiling at her buddy, before turning back to Hayley. “And I mean everything!”
They both giggled like schoolgirls.
Gloria stepped forward closer to Hayley, full of anticipation. “So?”
She noticed Hayley’s hesitancy as she made a sideways glance toward Rose.
“Seriously, you don’t have to worry about Rose. We both know not to blab what we hear down here. We only tell each other things when we know we’re alone,” Gloria said. “You can get canned pretty quick if you’re not careful.”
“It was Tristan!” Rose said, slapping the palm of her hand down on the island countertop as if all the suspects had been gathered in the drawing room and Miss Marple was finally unveiling the culprit.
“I was going to say him too!” Gloria cried, thrilled to be on the same page with her bestie.
“Why? What makes you say that?” Hayley asked.
“Do you want to tell her?” Gloria asked Rose.
Rose shook her head. “No, you tell her!”
Hayley wanted to scream “Please, just somebody tell me!”
But she remained calm, and casually sipped her soup.
“Well, it was no big secret Conrad was obsessed with Penelope’s ghostwriter, I mean secretary, which is what we’ve all been told to call her since Penelope thinks nobody knows that Lena actually writes all of her books . . .”
Rose jumped in, unable to contain herself any longer. “We’d see the two of them together, taking quiet strolls around the property, it was so obvious he was head over heels in love, and one time I even overheard him say he wanted to leave Penelope to be with Lena.”
“Well, you thought you heard that, but that was the night we stole what was left of the dessert wine after one of Penelope’s big dinner parties and you were pretty wasted . . .”
“I know what I heard!” Rose yelled.
Hayley was entirely sympathetic to Rose, having her own hearing questioned on her first night at the estate.
“But apparently Lena was resistant, and didn’t want Conrad leaving Penelope because she was interested in someone else,” Gloria said in a hushed tone. “Not Conrad!”
“Tristan?” Hayley asked, not at all surprised after she saw them canoodling in the garden.
“Yes, and Conrad found out, and was enraged,” Rose piped in as if excitedly recounting the plotline of her favorite soap opera. “And the gardener overheard Conrad tell Lena that he would go out of his way to make her life miserable if she didn’t dump this other guy immediately and just be with him!”
“We think Lena and Tristan were in cahoots to get Conrad out of the picture so they could finally be free of him and his threats!” Gloria said in an urgent whisper.
“That would be so romantic,” Rose sighed, completely forgetting the fact that their little love story involved them committing cold-blooded murder.
“Chop, chop, girls, we have a lot of work to do before dinner and we’re already hours behind schedule,” a familiar voice bellowed, causing Gloria and Rose to quickly back away from Hayley and pretend to be busy.
Clara appeared, her crisp, clean linen apron tied around her waist and a clipboard with a pad of paper in hand. She tore off a piece of paper and handed it to Rose. “Here you go, Rose. These are the items I need at the grocery store. I want you back here in an hour with everything on that list! No flirting with the stock boys!”
“Yes, Clara!” Rose squeaked before rushing out of the kitchen.
“Penelope wants to use the Royal Copenhagen china tonight, Gloria. You’ll find the key to the Bramley Hall chest in the left-hand drawer. I want it all cleaned and the silver ware polished,” Clara said, as Gloria scooted to the drawer, grabbed the key, and hauled butt out the door.
Clara finally noticed Hayley standing there, empty soup bowl in one hand and a big spoon in the other.
She grimaced but kept her cool.
“Penelope hired me back this afternoon,” Clara said triumphantly, as if Hayley had actually been the one advocating for her dismissal. “She’s hosting a barbecue on the estate that’s open to the public on the Monday after Fourth of July so she needs all the help she can get.”
“Welcome back,” Hayley said.
“Thank you,” Clara sneered. “She’s depended on me for years, and now that her husband is gone, may he rest in peace, she needs me more than ever.”
“Well, I’m happy it all worked out,” Hayley said, growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment.
“In many ways, I’m much closer to her than her late husband ever was,” Clara said, a smug look on her face. “And nothing or no one is going to get in the way of that.”
Hayley shuddered as Clara glared at her with unbridled scorn.
Hayley agreed with Gloria and Rose that there was a strong plausibility in their theory of Lena and Tristan conspiring together against Conrad, who if the rumors were true, was threatening them if they didn’t end their relationship.
But there was another theory slowly coming into focus.
Right here in front of Hayley was a woman who had been unceremoniously fired by the murder victim, tossed out of the house after years of hard work and fierce loyalty over one bad mussel in a batch of a dozen. And then suddenly, the tables had turned. Conrad was now just a stiff tagged and logged in at the morgue while Clara was happily back at work, once again reunited with her beloved boss, a world-famous household name, her power position in the kitchen once again firmly secured.
It was highly suspicious.
Clara gave Hayley a crooked smile as she snatched the bowl and spoon out of her hands. “Here, let me take these and clean them for you.”
Clara had a strange look in her eye.
It was as if she was daring Hayley to just try and mess with her again.
She could plainly see that Clara was feeling confident that she would never be fired again now that Conrad was out of the picture.
And she was happy to be rid of him.
Chapter 16
“All I’ve been hearing from my sources is that Conrad was a hopeless drunk who probably lost his balance while trying to light his pipe and accidentally fell over the side of the cliff to his death,” Bruce Linney said on the phone when Hayley called him at the Island Times between coughing and sneezing fits.
“Well, I’m convinced there is a lot more to it than that, Bruce. There are a number of people here with very good reasons to want to see Conrad dead, including our hostess Penelope Janice!” Hayley said before covering the mouthpiece of the phone and coughing.
“Hayley? Hayley? Are you still there?”
She set the phone down and coughed a few more times, unable to speak, blew her nose into a wad of Kleenex, and then picked up her phone again. “Yes, I’m still here. I have a terrible head cold.”
“It sounds like you’re on to something big,” Bruce said, excited. “Maybe it’s time I join the investigation.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask Penelope if it would be okay if your boyfriend joined you for the remainder of the weekend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend.”
“You do now.”
“Bruce, my head is fuzzy, my nose is stuffy, my throat is scratchy, and try as I might, I just don’t understand what you’re saying.”
“I’m going to pack a bag and head over there and pretend to be your boyfriend so I can help you get to the bottom of what really happened to Conrad.”
“Bruce, I’m not feeling well, and I’m ready to forget this whole thing and just go home and crawl into my own bed . . .”
“You can rest in bed there in the lap of luxury and let me do all the poking around. Plus if I’m there as a guest, I’ll have access to the whole property, and nobody will suspect what I’m really up to,” Bruce said.
“Bruce, no, I don’t think that’s a good idea . . .”
“What’s the harm in asking?”
He was going to strong-arm Hayley until she agreed, and they both knew it.
Hayley dropped the phone and coughed some more.
“Hayley, are you there?”
She picked up the phone, cleared her throat, and growled, “I’m here. I’m not sure Penelope is going to want a stranger around, especially a journalist who writes about true crimes, given all that’s happened. But okay, Bruce, you win, I’ll ask her. But I can’t guarantee she is going to go for it.”
“Great. Should I bring a jacket and tie? Are the meals semiformal?”
“No, Bruce, but just hold on until I ask her.”
“Fine. Call me back when you get the all clear.”
He hung up.
She had to admire his optimism.
As if just the name Bruce Linney would ensure an invite.
Hayley started coughing again.
Well, much to Hayley’s surprise, Penelope jumped at the idea of Hayley’s “boyfriend” Bruce joining them when she found her in the kitchen going over the evening’s menu with Clara.
