Death of a Cookbook Author

by Lee Hollis

  Jillian turned to Bruce. “So I did the research you asked me to do, and came up with a few interesting tidbits.”

  Bruce blanched and turned to study Hayley’s reaction, which was perplexed. He then stepped out of the line, took Jillian by the arm, and guided her away from the eavesdropping crowd of people curious to know more. He led Jillian over to an open area, away from all the party guests, so they could speak privately.

  Hayley was not about to miss out on their covert conversation, so she too left the line of people waiting for more tri-tips and joined them.

  “Oh, hiya, Hayley,” Jillian said as if she were just seeing her for the first time.

  “I didn’t want to miss this,” Hayley said, staring at Bruce.

  “Um, Jillian has picked up a few odd jobs to . . . uh . . . put herself through nursing school,” Bruce sputtered.

  “And Brucey has been kind enough to hire me on occasion to do some legwork for him,” Jillian offered, flipping her hair again as if she were a model in front of a breezy fan for a Sports Illustrated swimsuit issue photo shoot.

  “Legwork?” Hayley asked pointedly, eyeing Bruce.

  “Yes, legwork! Doing online research for my columns, that kind of legwork,” Bruce quickly explained. “Try to keep your mind out of the gutter, okay, Hayley?”

  Jillian scrunched up her face, at first not getting the double entendre, but once it dawned on her, she burst out into a fit of giggles. “Oh, that’s funny! I’m not sure exactly what it means, but it’s funny! Oh God, who would want these awful legs wrapped around them? They’re so ugly!”

  Hayley glanced at Jillian’s legs.

  They were, in fact, perfection.

  Bruce started perspiring, and not from the heat. He was suddenly nervous. “I had Jillian do a little digging into Lena Hendricks’s life and background.”

  “What did you come up with?” Hayley asked.

  “Well, I checked her Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook accounts, pretty much all of her social media outlets, and it was pretty obvious that she didn’t want to spend the next ten years ghostwriting for Penelope Janice. This girl wanted to be Penelope Janice. She was building her online presence hoping to create her own following. I found a ton of posts and videos about her life and aspirations that gave some insight into what’s been going through her mind lately.”

  Okay, Jillian might be a wild party girl with a questionable reputation, but she also had promise as an effective private investigator.

  “She also shared a lot about her personal life. There were a slew of videos about her relationship with a man she referred to as just ‘L’!”

  Lex Bansfield.

  It had to be Lex Bansfield.

  “Well, there was one video she posted that was quite emotional. She was crying, actually sobbing, and it was hard to make out everything she was saying, but she told her followers that her relationship with ‘L’ was kaput. Over. Done. She broke it off because she realized he was never going to get serious with her. She felt he was stringing her along because he didn’t want to hurt her, but she could tell he wasn’t that into her. Then she went on and on about how men can’t be trusted, you know the drill, I’ve said it a thousand times to my girlfriends, I just never post it online.”

  “I’m surprised you’ve ever gone through anything like that, Jillian, since you’re the one who breaks men’s hearts, not the other way around,” Bruce said with more than a trace of bitterness.

  Hayley tried not to laugh.

  On some level, she actually enjoyed seeing Bruce so worked up over having been unceremoniously discarded by this vision of youthful beauty.

  “Oh, Brucey, don’t you start! Anyway, I watched all the videos after that and she suddenly stopped talking about the men she was dating, but you could tell there was someone else in the picture. She must have decided she was oversharing so she didn’t mention any names or anything.”

  Conrad.

  Maybe Tristan.

  Or both.

  Jillian’s information corroborated Lex’s story.

  He had been involved with Lena.

  But it was just a fling and it was now over.

  Hayley felt an overwhelming sense of relief.

  Lex was telling the truth.

  “I’m still going through her Twitter feed. The girl likes to tweet more than Donald Trump! But I wanted to swing by and give you what I’ve found so far.”

  “Good work, Jillian, thank you,” Bruce said, still obviously smarting from his temporary Girl Friday’s stinging rejection.

  “Thanks. Do you have my check?” Jillian asked, now all business and more serious than she had been since her arrival.

  The girl wanted to get paid for her efforts.

  Bruce pulled out his wallet and rifled through it. “I wasn’t expecting you to show up here so I didn’t bring my checkbook.”

  Jillian held out her hand. “Cash is fine.”

  Bruce pulled out a couple of twenties and gently placed them in the palm of her hand. She glanced at them, hardly satisfied, and raised her eyes to meet his, glaring at him.

  He quickly grabbed the rest of the cash in his wallet and pressed the bills in her hand. She closed her fist, stuffed the money in the tiny pocket of her tight denim jeans, and smiled again. “Thanks, Brucey.”

  “You’re welcome,” he said, scowling.

  “Now I got a much better party to get to, not as many old fogies. Bye y’all!” she sang as she bounced away.

  Hayley watched Bruce, who looked as if he wanted the ground to open and swallow him up whole.

  He was supremely embarrassed.

  And Hayley was loving every minute of it.

  “You are a saint, Bruce, for helping put that bright young girl through nursing school out of the goodness of your heart.”

  “Don’t start with me, Hayley,” Bruce warned.

  “Are there any other pretty young girls in Bar Harbor who are the lucky recipients of the Bruce Linney College Scholarship Program?” she asked.

  “Oh, nice, Hayley! That’s a good one!”

  “I’m sorry, Bruce, I just can’t help it!” Hayley said, laughing.

  “Try!”

  Hayley attempted to get more serious. “No, honestly, I think it’s swell what you’re doing. Helping a young person advance their education is a noble cause . . . as long as it’s done for the right reason.”

  “And what’s a wrong reason?” Bruce demanded to know.

  “Well, if I had to come up with one, I guess I’d have to say . . .”

  “I’m listening . . ”

  Hayley suddenly realized she was swimming in uncharted waters.

  She and Bruce rarely spoke of their personal lives.

  Since when did his activities outside the office become any of her business?

  “Nothing. Forget it,” she said.

  “No, tell me.”

  His eyes bored into hers.

  He was angry because he knew where this was going.

  And suddenly she regretted the thought even popping into her head.

  “Never mind, Bruce. I didn’t mean to imply anything—”

  “You think I’m hoping that girl might be so grateful to me for helping her out, she might decide to fool around with me again, is that it?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “You were thinking it!”

  “Bruce, please, let’s just drop it. I didn’t mean to start something.”

  “Well, you did. Are you jealous of her?”

  “Am I what?”

  “You heard me!”

  “What could I possibly be jealous of, besides her pretty face and gorgeous body? Those attributes, I do admit, make me a little jealous.”

  “I think you’re jealous that Jillian and I had some harmless fun together in the past, and now you’re trying to make me feel bad about it!”

  “Bruce, I don’t care what happened between the two of you . . .”

  “I don’t believe you!”

  “
It doesn’t matter to me whether you believe me or not, I’m just telling you the truth.”

  “Well, I think you’re lying! And I am hurt that you would think I’m such a disrespecting sleazeball that I would use that girl, bribe her with money for school, just to get her into bed with me!”

  “Bruce, I’m sorry . . .”

  She knew he was right.

  That was exactly what she was thinking.

  And now she felt horrible.

  “I’m outta here!”

  Bruce stalked off, charging through the sea of guests toward the garden and rocky cliffside beyond.

  At first Hayley decided to just let him go so he could cool off.

  She promised herself she would find him later and apologize.

  But the argument kept nagging at her because she knew she was the one who had started it by needling him in a way that it was unavoidable for him not to notice she was judging him.

  She couldn’t allow this to go on and fester.

  She had to deal with it now before it damaged their friendship beyond repair.

  Hayley marched through the party, scanning the crowd, asking the guests if they had seen which direction Bruce was heading. When she got to Mona, who was walking Sadie around the grounds away from all the hoopla of the barbecue, Mona told her she had just spotted Bruce heading along the ocean path down toward the rocky beach in front of the estate.

  Hayley thanked her and jogged along the path, shielding her eyes from the glaring sun with her hand as she set out in search of Bruce.

  After fifteen minutes of looking, there was still no sign of him.

  She was about to turn back when she heard some rustling behind her.

  She started to turn around, expecting to find Bruce, but instead someone shoved a white cloth over her face, locking her in an iron embrace with his arm around her waist. She struggled for a few seconds before breathing in the paralyzing toxic smell of a strong chemical.

  Chloroform.

  Someone was drugging her with chloroform.

  This realization sent a shiver down her spine and she started fighting her assailant, pounding her fists on his chest, but he was big, brawny, and sturdy and much stronger than she, and her attempts to free herself proved fruitless.

  Finally she was overcome by the noxious fumes and succumbed.

  She stirred awake a few minutes later.

  Her arms were outstretched as someone gripped her by the wrists, dragging her across the wet sand.

  Her whole body was numb and she was barely conscious.

  When she opened her mouth to cry for help, no words came out.

  She felt dizzy and disoriented.

  And then everything went black again.

  Island Food & Spirits

  BY HAYLEY POWELL

  This summer has been such a whirlwind of activity that I’ve barely had time to tend to my small garden that I grow out in my backyard. It’s nothing fancy, mind you, just some tomatoes, sweet peppers, cucumbers, and of course, my favorite, zucchini. Zucchini is a must, since every year my brother Randy and his husband Sergio throw their August Birthday Party Bash for themselves, having been born less than a week apart in the dog days of August. I always bring my world-famous (okay, maybe not world-famous, let’s go with locally famous) Zucchini Lasagna!

  Randy and Sergio live in a beautiful old rambling house nestled near the famed Shore Path, a narrow gravel path that stretches along the Eastern Shore of Mount Desert Island that is trodden by tens of thousands of tourists and locals alike every summer so they can take in the breathtaking ocean views and picture-postcard sunrises and sunsets. Those lucky boys, Randy and Sergio, wake up to extraordinary beauty just outside their window every morning. Needless to say, they have the perfect party house so all of their friends and family look forward to their big, boisterous summer gala every year that boasts plenty of food, cocktails, and music.

  Last year’s party, however, was a double celebration. Not only was it their birthdays, it was also the fifth anniversary of the month they bought their gorgeous home, and moved in to start their life together as an official married couple. They decided to throw their biggest party to date. Out went the DJ, usually a friend who fancied himself a hip club spin-meister, and in came a local rock band hired to play live music. Gone was a cardboard table with a few liquor choices and some plastic bottles of soda mixer and in came a full-blown bar complete with a handsome young bartender. No crepe-paper decorations were bought at the last minute from the local party store. Instead they ordered a full range of fresh flower decorations. And especially exciting for everyone, no potluck dishes. We were going to be treated to a fully catered sunset dinner!

  However, there was one item not on the caterer’s menu that the boys insisted be served—my Zucchini Lasagna! And I was more than happy to make it. In fact, by the time I had finished, I had baked six large pans of it and delivered them to the caterer’s shop the day of the party.

  Since the boys were being so generous, a few of us wanted to do something special for them so we chipped in and bought an enormous six-tier birthday cake that was almost as tall as I was! We also splurged on a giant ice-sculpture fountain that would be flowing with champagne, which we had stored in the back of a refrigerated truck parked a few blocks away. The sculpture would be wheeled in at precisely 10 P.M. for a champagne toast.

  Randy and Sergio were so busy dancing and socializing with all of their guests, they never noticed the flurry of activity just a few feet away as the champagne fountain and cake were being set up.

  Their best friend Alex from Los Angeles, who had flown in for the event, took to the makeshift stage where the band was playing and grabbed the microphone, requesting that Randy and Sergio come forward for the toast. The boys were shocked and delighted at all the effort we had put into this very special moment.

  As the champagne and cake were handed out to all the guests, we suddenly heard a woman’s frantic voice yelling, “Tiny! Tiny, come back!”

  Everyone paused for a moment and glanced around to see what was happening. And then, all eyes fell upon an adorable furry little gray kitten scampering between people’s legs and meowing softly, before landing at Sergio’s foot. He bent down and picked the cute kitty up in his arms and everyone laughed and applauded.

  Unfortunately, this was not Tiny.

  Not even close.

  The disembodied woman was still yelling, “Tiny! Tiny, no!”

  That’s when all hell broke loose.

  Suddenly, without warning, like an earthquake or lightning strike, the biggest black-and-white spotted Great Dane you have ever seen plowed right through the crowd, panting and drooling, and then launched himself straight at the kitten, which Sergio was cuddling in his arms.

  The kitten spotted the dog and then, terrified, jumped out of Sergio’s arms and climbed right up his chest and over his face, leaving kitty scratch marks on his cheeks and forehead before leaping onto the table where the cake was displayed and hiding behind it.

  We all watched the disastrous scene unfold as if it was in slow motion. Randy vaulted in front of the ice fountain and held out his arms to protect it while Sergio, with all of his police training, leapt in front of the cake like a human shield, as if protecting a bystander from a stray bullet, screaming at Tiny to stop. But Tiny wasn’t about to listen. He was too focused on getting to the kitten, who was peeking out from behind the cake, eyes as big as saucers.

  Tiny took a giant leap into the air and slammed right into Sergio’s chest with such force, it knocked them both over and they landed with a giant thud right into the six-tier cake! All six tiers shot up into the air and then came crashing down with a large splat on top of Sergio, covering his entire head and face with chocolate cake and gooey sticky frosting. Tiny stopped to lick some of the frosting off Sergio’s face, slobbering him with slime before he got distracted by the kitten making a fast getaway by running down the middle of the table. Tiny continued his frenzied and relentless pursuit, and we all cr
inged as we saw dishes and champagne bottles smash to the ground.

  Finally, a rather rotund, red-faced woman stepped in front of Tiny, and he suddenly stopped his rampage when she screamed, “Tiny, HEEL!”

  He did as he was told, allowing her to grab the end of his leash that had been trailing behind him.

  Order was restored, but not before we all heard a loud cracking noise and turned to witness the table holding what was left of the cake, and Sergio, who was lying on top of it, give out under the weight and collapse. Randy rushed forward to catch his husband, but tripped and crashed into the table holding the ice fountain, which up to this point, amazingly, was still in one piece. But then, the ice fountain tipped over and crashed to the ground, exploding into a million pieces and spraying champagne, soaking everyone in the immediate vicinity. Both Randy and Sergio got the worst of it, however, and were covered from head to toe in a sticky mess of cake and champagne.

  The boys began howling with laughter and everyone joined in, and the dog’s owner, Julie, who was visiting her family’s summerhouse just a few doors down until Labor Day, was invited to stay and join the party. Even Tiny was forgiven. The kitten turned out to be a stray, so the boys adopted him and called him Tim and spent the next few weeks hanging out on their porch with Julie, sipping champagne cocktails, while Tiny and Tim, who remarkably became best friends, played on the lawn. Who says dogs and cats can’t learn to get along?

  So with preparations already under way for this year’s annual birthday party at the boys’ house, let me share with you my recipes for a new champagne cocktail, and of course, my world—ahem, locally—famous Zucchini Lasagna!

  Sparkling Pear Champagne Cocktail

  Makes 4 servings.

  1½ cups of your favorite champagne, chilled

  ⅔ cup pear liqueur, chilled

  8 pear slices

  Pour the chilled pear liqueur into four glasses and divide the chilled champagne between the four glasses. Add 2 slices of pears to each glass and sit back, relax, and enjoy a beautiful sunset.