by Lee Hollis
1 baguette
1 whole clove garlic, sliced in half
¼ cup to ½ cup crumbled goat cheese (use the amount you desire to your taste)
In a mixing bowl, add your chopped tomatoes, minced garlic, olive oil, balsamic vinegar, basil, and salt and pepper. Mix all together and set aside. If you would like, you can make this a few hours in advance to allow time for the flavors to mix together.
Preheat your oven to 375°F. Slice your baguette and place slices on a cookie sheet. Place in oven for ten minutes or until lightly browned and toasted. Remove from oven and rub your garlic halves on all of the slices. Sprinkle your goat cheese crumbles on the warm baguettes and then spoon your tomato mixture on top. Buon appetito!
Chapter 17
“The strawberry scone looks delicious. I’ll take one of those,” Bruce said, pointing his finger at the last one sitting invitingly on a plate inside the glass case. Bruce’s eyes scanned the other baked goods on display. “And the blueberry muffin . . . and the banana walnut bread.”
Hayley sighed. “We just came from lunch.”
“I had a salad. I’m going to be starving by four o’clock,” Bruce reasoned.
Helen Fennow smiled as she picked up a pair of metal tongs and withdrew the scone from the display case and carefully placed it in a brown paper sack with her bakery’s logo on the side, which was a half-eaten cookie with the name of her bakery, The Cookie Crumble, below it.
Hayley sighed again. “Yes, but we didn’t come here to—”
“And one of those peanut butter cookies . . . Wait, make it two . . .”
He glanced at Hayley. “You want one?”
Hayley shrugged. “Sure.”
“Make it three—no, four . . . what the hell, just make it a half dozen.”
Helen happily nodded and got to work fulfilling the suddenly large order by pulling a bigger bag with handles out from underneath the counter.
Hayley refrained from commenting any further on Bruce’s sudden sweets binge, even though his doctor had warned him about his rising glucose numbers, which were teetering dangerously close to pre-diabetes levels. She had already lectured him at lunch, forcing him to order a salad, which hadn’t sat well with him at all.
She was also still sore about his impulsive, ham-fisted decision to break the story of how Lisa Crawford was poisoned despite Sabrina’s direct request that they keep mum about the revelation until after the coroner had had the opportunity to release his final autopsy report. Hayley knew deep down that Bruce was a reporter first, and a reporter never ignores a scoop. That was just part of the package, and she had come to accept it. And as a small consolation, she hadn’t heard one word from Sabrina about ignoring her condition of not revealing the information, which made Hayley feel a little bit better about breaking her confidence.
In fact, a small part of her suspected that Sabrina knew Bruce would never keep his word about not sharing it, because on some level Sabrina actually wanted to get the news out there somehow. At least that’s what Hayley hoped. In any event, Hayley was inclined to forgive Bruce and let the whole matter go. His utter lack of healthy food choices, however, not so much.
While at lunch, Bruce had eagerly tried to change the subject of his eating habits by discussing possible suspects in the Lisa Crawford murder. One name that kept coming up was that of Helen Fennow, Lisa’s former assistant. If Lisa had done any of what she was accused of, planting rotten food and mice in Helen’s brand-new bakery, then that would certainly be a motive for Helen to commit murder.
Helen finished filling the bag with her baked goods and rang up the order on the register.
Hayley noticed that the glass display case was at this point nearly empty, in desperate need of some restocking. “Looks like you’ve been busy today.”
“I had a line out the door this morning. I’m going to have to hire extra help. This week’s been crazy, and every day seems to get even crazier than the last. Business has been booming ever since I became the only game in town!”
The moment she said it, Helen obviously regretted it. She instantly wiped the big grin off her face and struggled to adopt a more reflective and somber tone. “I just meant that there’s been a small silver lining in the midst of this horrible tragedy. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be callous.”
“Of course not,” Bruce said softly, attempting to put her at ease.
“Lisa was very good to me; she taught me everything I know. We were the closest of friends until . . . until I decided to break out on my own.”
“And then she turned on you,” Hayley said.
“Yes, and with such a stunning viciousness. I was so taken aback. I didn’t expect her to go to the lengths she did to hurt me.”
“By trying to wreck your new business?” Bruce asked.
“Yes. She didn’t know I had installed a security camera the day before she broke in and planted the mice and spoiled food. It recorded everything. In fact, I was at the police station delivering the evidence to Chief Alvares the day you discovered her body in her bakery. I was standing right there in front of him when he got the call. I couldn’t believe it.”
“Did you see Lisa after we saw you in her shop a few days before she died?” Hayley asked.
Helen shook her head. “No, I knew it was probably best to keep my distance. And after I got the call from the health department acting on an anonymous tip, I knew it had to have been her who called them. But I still didn’t want to confront her or engage her in any way after that, because I finally realized what a vindictive person she was, and what she was actually capable of doing to exact her revenge.”
Hayley studied Helen, who was acting calm, cool, and collected.
Helen noticed Hayley staring at her. “I know what you’re thinking. You want me to say Lisa was a conniving, despicable, poor excuse for a human being, and the world is a better place without her, and that I refuse to shed one tear over the fact that she’s gone for good. Is that what you want me to say? Because that would give you sufficient cause to keep me on your list of suspects. But I won’t do that. I am grateful to Lisa. Without her, none of this would have ever been possible. And now I am a successful businesswoman. I owe it all to her.”
“We believe you,” Hayley felt the need to say, even though she was not entirely one hundred percent convinced Helen was being sincere.
“Look, let me save you a lot of time investigating me. I did not kill Lisa. I’m simply not capable of it. I can’t even pronounce the name of the poison that killed her.”
After running Bruce’s credit card and handing it back to him along with the big paper bag of goodies he had purchased, Helen’s smile returned. “Now, let’s please put all this ugly chatter aside and talk business. Now that Lisa’s out of the picture, is her cousin Liddy looking for a new wedding cake baker? I know a spectacularly talented one who might be available!”
“You?” Bruce guessed, already fully aware of the answer.
“Yes! I promise I will do a bang-up job. She won’t regret it. And as for references, all Liddy has to do is check out all of the glowing testimonials on my Yelp page before she makes a final decision,” Helen said, driving the sales pitch home.
“Will do,” Hayley said.
She didn’t want to reveal to Helen that Liddy had already made her final decision about who was going to design and bake her wedding cake and it was Hayley and Gemma. Because if there was even the slightest chance Helen did get rid of Lisa, Hayley feared she wouldn’t hesitate bumping off Hayley and Gemma in order to get the job baking Liddy’s cake. Although Helen put on a good show, there was still a nagging suspicion in the back of Hayley’s mind that it was all an act. Behind the fake smile and fawning compliments and protestations of innocence quite possibly lurked the mind of a cold-blooded killer.
Helen Fennow was right about one thing.
She was staying on Hayley’s list of possible suspects.
Chapter 18
“I was hoping to see Gemma and Dus
tin tonight,” Randy said as he hungrily devoured a plateful of Hayley’s newest concoction: a chicken Parmesan casserole, a delectable, rich, savory dish smothered in two of his favorite foods—mozzarella cheese and crushed garlic croutons.
“I’m afraid we don’t rate high on their priority list anymore. They’re both only here until after the wedding, then Gemma heads back to New York and Dustin starts his new semester at CalArts in California in the fall, so they only have a limited amount of time to spend with their friends this summer,” Hayley said as she watched both Randy and Sergio gobble up their dinners, effusive in their compliments in between bites.
“Why haven’t you made this for us before?” Sergio asked, stabbing a piece of chicken before scraping some tomato sauce onto his fork and stuffing it in his mouth.
“I just discovered the recipe online. I wish I could take credit for it, but it’s not mine,” Hayley said before grabbing their now-empty plates and carrying them into the kitchen to refill them with another serving.
“I’m sorry Bruce couldn’t join us tonight either,” Randy yelled from the dining room as Hayley used a spatula to cut two more pieces from the casserole dish.
“He’s working late. He’s hoping to get here in time for coffee and dessert. Mostly because he wants to hear if Sergio has had any breakthroughs in the Lisa Crawford case,” Hayley answered, returning to the dining room and setting the plates down in front of Randy and Sergio, who both immediately grabbed their forks and started inhaling their second helpings.
“Not because he loves us like brothers and wants to spend more quality time with us?” Randy asked with his mouth full.
“Well, that too,” Hayley laughed before turning serious and glancing at Sergio. “So, has there been any progress?”
“A little,” Sergio said, nodding. “I examined Lisa’s business records and appointment books today and found a list of names jotted down in her calendar on the day she was poisoned.”
“But Lisa claimed she never bothered writing down appointments, which was why she never seemed to be expecting us whenever Liddy and I would stop by her shop,” Hayley said.
“Well, she was lying,” Sergio said matter-of-factly.
“Of course she was,” Hayley sighed. “So what did you find?”
Hayley started to grow impatient while waiting for Sergio to finish chewing on a piece of chicken. Why couldn’t people in her orbit talk and eat at the same time?
“Most of them were local customers, names I recognized; no one who would ever raise a red flower,” Sergio finally said after swallowing.
There was a long pause.
Randy tenderly put a hand on Sergio’s arm and quietly whispered in his ear. “Flag. It’s raise a red flag.”
Sergio didn’t argue and just nodded.
The Brazilian, who sometimes mixed up his words—English being his second language, after all—was getting better at just accepting the corrections without comment.
“Red flag,” he said. “None of them had any other connection to Lisa other than the obvious one of being interested in hiring her services. One name did stand out, however . . .”
Sergio scooped a big piece of chicken drowning in melted cheese on his fork and opened his mouth to suck it in when Hayley’s hand suddenly shot out and grabbed his wrist before he could reach his mouth.
“Wait, the suspense is killing me! I cannot wait until you chew and swallow that piece of chicken! I will not allow you to put that in your mouth until you tell me the name!”
Sergio eyed Hayley like she was a crazy person, but then just shrugged and said, “Tony Capshaw.”
“Who is Tony Capshaw?” Hayley asked, puzzled.
“Whips me,” Sergio said.
Another long pause.
Curious as to exactly what he meant, Hayley asked, “I beg your pardon?”
Randy leaned in again, whispering in his husband’s ear. “Beats me.” Then he turned and smiled at Hayley. “He means ‘beats me,’ as in he has no idea. He was not suggesting anything else, I promise you.”
Hayley stifled a chuckle.
“Can I please eat my chicken now, Hayley?” Sergio asked.
Hayley realized she was still squeezing the poor man’s wrist, keeping him from feasting on his last piece of chicken Parmesan casserole. She released her grip, and without wasting a second, Sergio stuffed it in his mouth and happily chewed on it, savoring every morsel.
“So Tony Capshaw was the only name you didn’t recognize,” Hayley said.
Sergio nodded, setting his fork down and picking up his napkin to wipe his mouth. “Yes. But that’s not unusual. Thousands of tourists pour into Bar Harbor every summer, and many of them throw parties and picnics and barbecues or have special occasions like birthdays and anniversaries while they’re here and need to hire a baker. But why Tony Capshaw stood out was because he was Lisa’s last appointment of the day.”
“So he was there right before I found Lisa dead in the back of the bakery?”
“Yes. Which is why it’s very important that I locate this guy and find out what he knows. Could be nothing, or maybe he might remember something that could prove useful to the investigation,” Sergio said. “Now, what’s for dessert? And do we have to wait for Bruce to get here?”
“Milk chocolate banana pudding, and no, I’ll get you some right away,” Hayley said, standing up again and collecting all the plates, her mind churning over and over with the name Tony Capshaw. She was even more determined than Chief Sergio to figure out who this mystery man was and if he had any connection to Lisa Crawford’s murder.
Chapter 19
Randy placed six different possible signature wedding cocktails on top of the bar at Drinks Like a Fish for Hayley, Liddy, Mona, and Sabrina to taste in order to decide which one was best to serve at the wedding reception. In the final contention were a grapefruit ginger spiced rum punch, a rum orange swizzle, a bourbon peach sweet tea, a blackberry whiskey lemonade, and finally, a raspberry Limoncello Prosecco.
“I’m leaning toward the Prosecco,” Sabrina said after taking a sip. “It’s so light and refreshing.”
“Forget it,” Mona growled. “If I’m going to sit through twenty minutes of Liddy’s sickeningly sweet wedding vows, I’m going to need some hard liquor. I vote for the whiskey lemonade.”
After throwing Mona a side eye, Liddy sipped every alcoholic concoction one more time. She considered each one carefully, then turned to Hayley. “I can’t decide. Which one do you like?”
“The bourbon peach sweet tea is delectable. I’m not a huge rum fan, so I’m ready to knock out the first two, but Mona may have a point . . .”
Liddy glared at Hayley, who quickly continued, “Not about your wedding vows! I’m sure they will be moving and emotional and just the right length of time. But everyone knows I love a good whiskey cocktail, so I think the lemonade is a great choice!”
Liddy turned back to Sabrina. “Sabrina? Do you agree?”
“I agree you’re all alcoholics. I already told you I prefer the Prosecco, but clearly I’m outvoted.”
Liddy grimaced. “I just can’t decide. Randy, which one do you think I should choose?”
“These cocktails are like my children. I love each and every one exactly the same.”
“Just serve them all and let’s be done with this stupid taste test,” Mona yelled. “Enough with these fancy drinks. Randy, get me a beer.”
“Coming right up,” he said, dashing off to find a clean mug.
“Maybe Mona’s right. Maybe I should just serve them all,” Liddy sighed.
“You can’t have six signature wedding cocktails, Liddy. You really should settle on just one,” Hayley said.
“I’ve settled on one,” Sabrina said with lust in her eyes. “And he’s right over there!”
They all turned to see Mona’s dreamy young assistant AJ playing a game of darts with a buddy in the back of the bar. He was wearing a plaid shirt with the sleeves cut off, which showed off his taut muscles,
and a pair of tight jeans that accentuated his perfectly formed butt. A Boston Red Sox cap was pulled down far enough to shadow his handsome face.
Smitten, Sabrina slid off her bar stool and sashayed over to AJ, pretending she was heading to the restroom, but stopping on the way, blocking him from throwing his dart at the board. She feigned surprise at running into him. He smiled and stuck his hand out to shake hers, but she waved it away and threw her arms around his neck, hugging him, smashing her breasts against his chest. The poor kid didn’t know quite how to react so he just patiently patted her back with his hand. When she finally let him go, she continued to stand between him and the dartboard, chattering incessantly, long enough that his buddy got tired of waiting and ambled up to the bar for another bottle of Budweiser.
Randy returned with a mug of beer and set it down in front of Mona, who scooped it up and took a big swig just as Liddy remarked, “Look at Sabrina shamelessly flirting with that boy. I mean, really, he’s half her age! What kind of woman does that?”
Mona did a spit-take, spraying beer all over the front of Randy’s shirt.
“Thanks, Mona,” Randy sighed, grabbing a towel and wiping his shirt off as he headed for the kitchen.
“What’s the matter with you?” Liddy asked.
Hayley, who was sitting on the stool next to Mona, kicked her lightly on the leg with her shoe, silently begging her not to start anything.
Mona, who was obviously dying to remind Liddy that Sonny, the man she was about to marry, was also nearly half her age, for once decided to keep her remarks to herself. She just wiped her mouth with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and shrugged. “Nothing.”
Unfortunately, at the end of the bar, a local drunk by the name of Butch Haggerty, who was in Sonny’s class at Bucksport High School before they both moved to Bar Harbor, was on his fourth or fifth bourbon straight up and had no compunction about joining their conversation. “Come on, Liddy, you know you like ’em young too. I mean, look at Sonny. What is he, twenty, thirty years younger than you?”
