Book Retreat Mystery 07 - Murder in the Cookbook Nook

by Ellery Adams

  “Didn’t your sister want to see her son in action?” Aunt Octavia asked. “I would have been bursting with pride if one of my brood became the director of such a famous show.”

  “Oh, Rosemary doesn’t fly. She hasn’t stepped foot on a plane in twenty years. She’d like this place, though. Calls herself an armchair traveler because she spends her free time reading.”

  Uncle Aloysius raised his glass. “To family.”

  He and Fox knocked rims and drank. While the men analyzed the brandy, Jane sipped her coffee and tried to think. Fox’s siblings helped him run Cook’s Pride. Was there any animosity between them, or were they all one, big, happy family?

  Fox finished his brandy and surveyed his hosts. “I came here expecting a battle royale. Instead, I’ve had an excellent meal with fine company. Thank you. If you’re ever out my way, I’d love to repay the favor.”

  Seeing that the meal had reached an end, Jane got to her feet. “I’ll walk you to the lobby.”

  In the elevator, she tried to learn more about how Fox felt toward Ty or his siblings, but his answers weren’t useful.

  “Do you or your sister worry about him getting hurt? As the director, he’s right in the middle of all the action, and there’ve been two fires and a murder over the past few days.”

  Fox shrugged. “Ty can look after himself. He might be half Scott, but he’s also half Watterson. And Wattersons are bold.”

  In the lobby, Fox asked for permission to look around before returning to his hotel. Jane gave it, and they went their separate ways.

  Fox turned toward the terrace while Jane went straight to the surveillance room. She watched Fox walk across the terrace, heading for Milton’s Gardens. She also saw Olivia Limoges exit the gardens. As usual, Captain Haviland was glued to her heel. As usual, he wasn’t leashed.

  If Olivia and Haviland continued on their current course, they’d run right into Fox Watterson.

  Jane was annoyed. She’d told Olivia Limoges that her poodle couldn’t run free around other guests. And here he was, obediently stuck to Olivia’s side, but still unleashed.

  On the monitor, Fox froze. And then, without warning, he scooped something off the ground and hurled it at Olivia.

  There was a streak of black on the video screen as Haviland darted forward and collided with Fox. The poodle knocked Fox to the grass and pinned him in place with his front paws while flashing his teeth.

  “Don’t do it!” Jane cried.

  As if he’d heard her plea, Haviland’s ears pricked. A second later, he turned and trotted back to Olivia.

  Jane rushed out of the surveillance room. In the staff corridor, she ran through the dim passageways, drawing concerned looks from her employees as they pressed against the rough stone walls to make way for her.

  She was breathing hard when she burst out onto the terrace, but she hadn’t moved fast enough.

  Fox, Olivia, and Captain Haviland had disappeared.

  Chapter 18

  Jane didn’t see Olivia Limoges again until minutes before Butterworth opened the doors to Shakespeare’s Theater. Even with all the members of the live audience clustered outside the theater, Olivia stood out. Her height and her corona of light blond hair made her easy to spot.

  Tonight, she wore a sleeveless cobalt top over white slacks and a necklace of silver beads. Though she didn’t appear to notice the admiring glances of the other guests, she met Jane’s gaze right away.

  Stepping out of line, Olivia joined Jane by the massive lobby fireplace.

  “You and I look like summer skies,” she said. “You’re the blue of a morning sky, and I’m the blue of a twilight sky.”

  Jane wore a pale blue wrap dress because it flattered her figure and allowed her to move. Her strappy sandals would be a hindrance should she have to chase a criminal, but she could hardly wear her beloved Chuck Taylors to such a prestigious event.

  “I stopped by your cottage an hour ago, but you must have been out,” Jane said. “Did you get my messages?”

  “Yes, but not until fifteen minutes ago.” Olivia’s cobalt shirt gave her eyes an electric blue cast. “I’m sorry you couldn’t reach me. I invited Michel over for tea and turned my phone off while he was there. Of course, I forgot to turn it back on. Anyway, Michel wanted me to tell you that he’s in.”

  Jane wanted to express her gratitude, but she needed to be clear on another matter first. “The encounter between you and Fox Watterson at the entrance to Milton’s Gardens—what happened?”

  Olivia blinked in surprise. “That was Watterson? The photos on the company literature have obviously been doctored. That Fox Watterson looks twenty years younger and has a full head of hair.” She gave a tiny shake of her head. “What happened is this: Fox doesn’t like dogs. He took it as a personal affront that Haviland wasn’t leashed. He had a right to be upset, so I apologized. I also explained that while I forgot to pack a leash, Haviland would stick to my ankle like glue. Nothing I said appeased the man. He called me several names I won’t repeat. His hostile tone and aggressive body language quickly escalated the situation. I warned him to stop before Haviland saw him as a threat.”

  “He didn’t listen.”

  Anger sparked in Olivia’s eyes. “Listen? He threw a rock at me like some playground bully, I told Haviland to take him down. Haviland trained alongside a police dog. He knows how to knock a person off their feet. Fox Watterson was never in danger, but I wasn’t going to let him pick up another rock.” Olivia gave Jane a quizzical look. “Has he lodged a complaint?”

  “No. I wanted to know if this was the first encounter between you two, or one of many. I’m taking a big risk trusting you.”

  “I understand,” Olivia said. “I own a restaurant, which means I know that Fox Watterson is the CEO of Cook’s Pride, but we never met until today. I want to help you, Jane. I want to help Michel. I want to do what I used to do when my husband was alive.”

  Jane softened her gaze. “Which was?”

  “Find the truth.” Olivia moved a step closer to Jane. “I owe you. Because of you and your cottage, I’ve found my voice again. I’m brimming with words and ideas. You had my loyalty the moment my fingers started flying over the keyboard.”

  Olivia held up a hand to keep Jane from congratulating her. “I was really touched when you invited me to join your book club meeting. Those women are more than friends. They’re sisters, cheerleaders, confidantes, and sugar enablers. I used to have friends like that, and I didn’t realize how much I miss them until last night.”

  Jane squeezed Olivia’s forearm. “You and I are going to be friends. But right now, we have places to be and people to watch.”

  When Olivia raised her chin in a show of determination, she looked like the goddess of the hunt—just as she had the night Jane first saw her. She laid a hand on Jane’s shoulder as if bestowing a boon and whispered, “Let slip the dogs of war, Jane Steward.”

  The last of the guests waiting to enter the theater moved through the double doors. Butterworth nodded politely as they passed, but when Olivia approached, he offered his arm.

  As Jane ducked into the staff corridor, she wondered if it had been a trick of the light, or if Butterworth had smiled at a guest.

  Olivia has charmed us all, Jane thought. If we’re wrong about her, we’re doomed.

  In the kitchens, the finalists were buttoning up their double-breasted jackets and unrolling their knife bags. Jane’s friends placed water bottles at three prep stations. In their server’s uniforms, with their hair pulled back into tight buns, they fit right in.

  “My dogs of war,” Jane murmured when Eloise gave her a thumbs-up.

  Eloise and Violet had paired with Lachlan and Sterling to work as kitchen helpers. It was their job to supply each chef with the tools they required. The kitchen helpers would also remove dirty bowls and pans from the workstations, but only when the cameras weren’t pointed in their direction.

  The rest of the Fins and Cover Girls were also given as
signments.

  From his position at the front of the kitchen, Sinclair would monitor the film crew. As soon as the audience was seated, Butterworth was to report to the kitchen to watch Bentley’s every move. Mabel, Mrs. Pratt, and Betty were to look for any suspicious activity among the audience members.

  Olivia had already played her part. She’d asked Chef Michel to make a very difficult choice. When she’d said, “he’s in,” back in the lobby, she was telling Jane that Chef Michel had agreed to forgo his chance to win money and prestige for a greater prize: justice.

  Knowing her plan couldn’t have succeeded without his help, Jane tried to catch Chef Michel’s eye. She wanted to convey her gratitude with a nod and a smile, but he was too busy organizing his station to notice her.

  If we make it through the next two hours, I’ll find a way to thank him, Jane thought as she headed over to where Mia sat on a stool, surrounded by her assistants. Dylan fiddled with her hair, a young woman applied powder to her nose, and Bentley adjusted the tiny microphone attached to the collar of her dress.

  Jane took in the ivory lace dress with its satin sash and tea-length skirt.

  “You’re gorgeous,” she told Mia. “If I wore that, I’d look like Miss Havisham, but you’re the picture of vintage glam.”

  “Did you hear that, guys and dolls? She said Miss Havisham!” Mia beamed at Jane. “That’s exactly what I was going for. This dress is from Coco Chanel’s bridal collection. Oh, speaking of collections, I have something to show you.”

  Mia told her assistants she was taking a breather and led Jane to a prep counter where several objects were covered in a white bedsheet.

  “Can you guess what’s under here?” Mia asked, bouncing on the balls of her feet like a kid waiting for the ice cream truck to come to a full stop.

  Jane had no idea. “Does it have anything to do with the finale?”

  Still bouncing, Mia shook her head. “Not at all. This is my way of apologizing to you and your family. My show is supposed to be a positive experience. It’s supposed to give chefs the chance to show off their skills and create amazing food. But this season’s been a disaster, and I’m sorry that my show brought such negative energy to your beautiful resort.” She gathered a corner of the sheet in her small hand. “This doesn’t make up for the bad things, but it was the only thing I could fix.”

  She carefully removed the sheet and tossed it aside. Her assistants, who’d been scurrying around and chattering like squirrels, silently waited for Jane to react.

  All Jane could do was stare. Her brain couldn’t compute what her eyes were telling her. It wasn’t possible. There was no way anyone, not even an influential billionaire, could have replaced the pieces from the cookbook nook. They were antiques. And in the case of the soup tureen, rare antiques.

  Jane picked up the fish platter. She felt its heft, saw the crazing in the glaze, and turned it over to examine the maker’s stamp. She was no expert, but she knew a reproduction when she saw one. This platter had the weight and patina of age.

  “How did you manage this?” she asked.

  Mia’s smile was luminous. “I have connections. And I know these pieces haven’t been passed down through your family, but Mrs. Hubbard can still have that special party for your great-aunt.”

  “This is incredibly generous,” Jane said. “Does Mrs. Hubbard know?”

  “Not yet.” The light in Mia’s eyes dimmed. “I can’t erase what happened there, but I hope this helps.”

  “Thank you, I—” Jane began.

  Mia flung her arms around Jane and whispered, “Thank you for making tonight possible,” Stepping back, she waved at her assistants. “Final touches. We have five minutes.”

  Jane hoped to get a read on Bentley, but she was ticking items off a checklist. Nothing about her behavior raised a red flag. She seemed entirely focused on the task at hand.

  “Five minutes, people!” Ty shouted through a bullhorn. “Chefs! Go to the marked spot at your stations and hold still while Mia does her intro. Everyone else should clear the set!”

  Just then, Mrs. Hubbard walked out of the pantry into the kitchen. As she caught sight of the treasures on the counter, her hand flew to her mouth, and a squeak escaped from between her fingers. “How? Where?”

  Jane put a steadying hand on Mrs. Hubbard’s back. “Mia replaced everything that was broken. I’m glad you got to see this, but I’m going to grab Eloise and Violet and move this stuff before the craziness starts.”

  “That Mia,” Mrs. Hubbard murmured, shaking her head in awe. “What a gem,”

  As if she’d heard, Mia glanced in their direction. Mrs. Hubbard blew her a kiss and Mia mimicked the gesture.

  “Four minutes!”

  “Oh, I’m a bundle of nerves!” Mrs. Hubbard scurried off while Jane, Eloise, and Violet moved the treasures to the break room. Jane returned to her assigned place seconds before Ty called for quiet on the set. Then, he pointed at Mia. She walked to the center of the kitchen, pasted on a smile, and began to talk.

  “Welcome to the finale of Posh Palate with Mia Mallett! Tonight, one of our three chefs—that’s right, I said three—will walk away with the golden ladle. Cook’s Pride, our generous sponsor, is sweetening the pot with a cookbook deal and a line of cookware named after the winner. Pretty posh, right?”

  Mia paused to let the cameras catch the chefs’ reactions. Several seconds later, a member of the film crew held up a cardboard stop sign, and the room went quiet again.

  “This season, our show filmed on location at Storyton Hall, Virginia, an amazing resort catering to book, food, and nature lovers. The gorgeous reading rooms filled with beautiful books inspired the literary themes of our episodes and turned our chefs into culinary storytellers. It’s my privilege to introduce you to our three finalists.”

  The feed switched to the camera focused on the workstations. After congratulating Chefs August, Lindsay, and Michel for making it to the finale, Mia recited a brief biography of each chef.

  Turning back to the main camera, she said, “Charles Dickens wrote, ‘It was the best of times. It was the worst of times.’ That quote summarizes this season. When one of our talented contestants, Chef Pierce, suddenly passed away, the loss touched us all. But we kept going because we knew Chef Pierce would want his colleagues to keep competing. They rose to the occasion and created some amazing dishes. Levi and Coco? Would you agree?”

  The judges weren’t in the kitchen. They were seated at a table in the Rudyard Kipling Café, alone except for members of the film crew. While Levi and Coco reviewed their favorite dishes from each chef, Jane watched Mia’s assistants.

  All four held clipboards and were laser-focused on the papers attached to those clipboards. Occasionally, they’d glance at their smartwatches before consulting the papers again. They stood, shoulder to shoulder, waiting for a break in the action. There was nothing sinister about the young assistants, Bentley included.

  The light on the camera facing Mia turned red and she smiled.

  “The chefs were told the theme of their final challenge a few hours ago. Now, it’s your turn.” Moving over to a round table holding a bounty of food that included a roast turkey, puddings, cakes, rolls, fruit, and more, she picked up the book sitting on a silver charger. “We couldn’t end our bookish cook-off without a celebration feast, and my favorite literary feast is from A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I love the Cratchits. They’re a reminder of how important family is to all of us. And I love how Ebenezer Scrooge starts the book as a villain but ends up as a hero. He brings gifts to the Cratchits, and they all sit down to celebrate food, family, and their blessings.”

  There was a hitch to Mia’s voice as she spoke this line, and Jane wondered if Mia missed her family. With her work and travel schedule, she might not see the people she loved as often as she’d like. Even with the constant presence of her entourage, she might still feel lonely.

  Jane, who’d spent every Christmas celebrating with her family and fri
ends, knew how lucky she was to have them all so close. They were always available, always willing to give her support. They were supporting her right now. There were Fins and Cover Girls in the kitchens, Uncle Aloysius and Aunt Octavia sat with the other Cover Girls in the theater, and Edwin was at Jane’s house, cooking with Fitz and Hem.

  “You can’t have a feast without a variety of dishes,” Mia continued. “Our chefs were given a list of every food mentioned in A Christmas Carol, and their dishes will feature one of these foods. Since we haven’t given them much time, we thought they could use a helping hand. Chefs? Would you each pick a golden spoon from the crock to see who your sous chef will be for your final challenge?”

  Chef August and Chef Michel hung back, graciously allowing Chef Lindsay to choose first. She pulled a spoon from the crock and cried, “Chef Alondra!”

  Chef Alondra ran into the room and the two women embraced.

  Chef Michel and Chef August pulled the remaining spoons out of the crock.

  “Yessss!” shouted Chef August. “Chef Saffron!”

  Chef Saffron rushed into the kitchen and Chef August lifted her up in his massive arms as if she were a bag of flour.

  “I’m so glad to be on your team!” she said when he put her down.

  “Me too.” Chef August gave her a fist bump.

  There was a dramatic pause as the cameras focused on Chef Michel. Raising his golden spoon in the air like Lady Liberty’s torch, he said, “I am the luckiest man in this room because my partner is Chef Hubbard!”

  Mrs. Hubbard trotted in wearing chef’s whites and a wide smile. After waving at Jane and the Cover Girls, she and Chef Michel kissed each other on both cheeks.

  “Chef Hubbard runs the kitchens here at Storyton Hall,” Mia explained. “Not only is she a veteran cook, but she also knows how to infuse her food with the flavors of home. We’re grateful to her for stepping into what’s bound to be a super-exciting role.”

  Mrs. Hubbard gave a little bow. She then straightened and tugged the ends of her floral neckerchief. She looked antsy and eager, like the twins when Jane asked if they’d like to ride to the village for ice cream.