“She wants to help you tomorrow.”
I shut off the water. “You sure?”
“She insists on it.” He grabbed a towel from a nearby rack and handed it to me. “Frankly, it’s none of our business if she wants to grieve this way.”
I dried my hands and tossed the towel over the rack. On second thought, he was right. For all I knew, this was her way of working through her grief. If she wanted to work the memorial buffet who was I to complain?
Marc left, and I darted into the pantry where I exchanged my soiled apron for a clean one, and recaptured my curls into the claw clip. An improvement, but hardly enough to compete with the fashionista.
I’d just dabbed on lipstick when Ana returned. As I might have guessed, even in jeans with her hair in a ponytail, she looked gorgeous. How could this slender beauty have been attracted to a man whose girth likely took up both cushions on a loveseat? A sick feeling filled my stomach. How had I turned so judgmental? In truth, Ana was a better person than me for seeing past the exterior. Maybe if I’d done that the day Marc’s good looks swept me off my feet, I’d have saved us both a lot of grief.
God, forgive me.
I got Ana sautéing mushrooms for a cream sauce in a stainless steel pan, then began mixing dried bread cubes, chopped onions, and spices together. I glanced in her direction. “Ramón’s death is so sad. He seemed like a nice man.”
Except for pushing her spoon through the mushrooms, the woman stood stone still.
I opened my mouth to repeat my statement.
“I told him time and time again he needed to eat . . .” She transferred the caramelized mushrooms into a bowl.
I waited until she added a slab of butter to the sauté pan and returned it to the flame. “You were saying?”
“It’s not important.” She dumped the remaining raw mushrooms into the melted butter.
“Did you know him well?”
She let out the tiniest of sighs. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard through the gossip mongers . . .” She stilled her hand and stared into the mushrooms. “We were once engaged.”
Taken aback by her flat tone, I pushed on. “I try not to pay attention to gossip. I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Ramón and I have been history for months. What do you want me to do with these things?” She indicated the bowl of cooked mushrooms.
I got her preparing the cream sauce, then added chicken stock I’d made earlier to the dried ingredients I’d prepared. “Have you lived in Canoga Lake long?”
“Only a couple years.”
I waited several long moments, expecting her to continue. But it was as if someone had Krazy Glued her lips together. Should I shut up or keep trying?
“This recipe is a good choice for the lunch.” Ana kept her gaze fixed on the pan in front of her. “It should appeal to most people.”
I had to strain to hear her, but at least maybe now we’d have a conversation. “My thoughts exactly. I loved the dress you had on earlier. Is there a place around here that’s good for clothes shopping?”
“I suppose. You just have to nose around. I think this sauce is ready. What do you want me to do with it?”
Without further small talk, we got the chicken casseroles made and in the refrigerator, then prepped the ingredients for appetizers, finishing only a few minutes later than I’d intended.
I asked if she’d like something to drink while we went over tomorrow’s agenda. Ana opted for bottled water with a slice of lemon while I went for my usual chemical-laden diet soda. By the time she left, the only thing I knew about her was that she was a good worker.
Chapter 17
With Ana gone and a Casting Crowns tune cranked up, I ran a soapy sponge over the granite counters. The chore gave me time to rehash all of the ten or so words Ana had uttered in the past several hours. If I hadn’t already heard about the stormy fights she’d had with Ramón, I’d have been happy to conclude she didn’t have enough fire in her belly to battle a mosquito.
“Good. You’re still here.” A shout came above the music.
I turned as Karl shut the door. He settled onto a stool, then removed his ball cap.
I studied the logo on the hat and gave up trying to figure out what Justin meant. Didn’t matter. “So what’s up?” I crossed over to the speaker dock and reached to lower the volume.
“Don’t.”
At Karl’s shouted order, I jumped and shot him a questioning look.
“We need to talk.” He beckoned with his finger.
I approached and leaned in. The only way to hear him over the racket.
“The music will stop anyone from overhearing,” he said into my ear. “Thought you’d like to know there’s a new rumor going around. They think Marc killed Ramón.”
I jerked my head back and stared at him. “What?”
He held up a hand, palm out. “Keep your voice down.”
Marc may be a lot of things, but he’s no killer. “Who told you that?”
“Doesn’t matter. I know you and Thorne are friends. I don’t believe a word of it, but I think someone’s out to frame him.”
A sick feeling filled my gut. Like a crazed laser beam, my gaze zigzagged over his face. “Who’s framing him?”
“Dunno.”
“How.”
“Dunno that either.”
“Well, I can tell you right now that I’ve known Marc for years and will vouch he didn’t kill Ramón.”
He held up his hands surrender style. “Hey, you don’t have to convince me.”
“I’ve not seen any police around here. Wouldn’t they be involved?”
“You’d think so.” He picked up his cap and set it on his head. “Just wanted you to be aware. I still think either Isabel or Ana knocked the boss off. They’ll both be here tomorrow. Keep your eyes open.”
After Karl left I made a double-shot espresso and tried to digest what he told me. If I knew who had started the vicious rumor, I’d march right up to the person and give him or her a piece of my mind. Karl seemed to want me to warn Marc, but it would only upset him when he had the funeral on his mind. Ana had called the people around Rescaté rumormongers and, boy howdy, was she ever right.
The door to the hall opened, and Marc bolted into the room. He marched to the speaker and cut the music, then spun on his heel and glared at me. “Do you realize you’ve been playing the same song over and over? I can hear it in my office.”
I swallowed the rejoinder already loaded onto my tongue. It was the circumstances he was mad at, not me. But he didn’t know the half of it yet. “I hadn’t noticed. Guess I was deep in thought.”
His angry grimace dissolved. “I really came to see how Ana worked out.” He loosened his tie and let it hang free around his neck before he sat on the stool next to me.
“She was great.” I touched his arm. “Marc, we need to talk . . . Do you have a few minutes?”
“I’ll walk you back to Kitty’s. We can chat on the way. The board meeting is continuing over dinner at the Fin and Tail, and I need to leave soon.”
“All the better. What I have to say shouldn’t be said here.”
We walked toward the shore path in silence—him with his hands in his pockets and me with my arms folded across my chest. Second thoughts on mentioning the rumor to Marc crowded in. The man was stressed already, and there wasn’t any foundation to the accusation anyway. We approached the boathouse and unbidden memories of that snowy night erupted. Did the old building evoke similar emotions for him? I chanced a glance his way. His set jaw gave me no clue. We continued toward Kitty’s. Our conversation time was fast evaporating. I had to speak now or forget it. “Karl told me something disturbing.”
“What’s happened now?”
“He heard through the grapevine that you’re suspected of . . .” I bit my lower lip. “Of killing Ramón.”
He grabbed my elbow and turned me until I was staring into his ashen face. “Tell me you’re joking.”
“I wish I were,
but I’m not.”
“Who’s accusing me? The cops? Someone from Rescaté? Who started these rumors?”
“I have no idea. Karl doesn’t know either, or he’s not talking. He doesn’t believe it, but wanted to make sure you knew.”
The vein in his neck pulsed. “I’ve had about enough of Karl Murray and his gossip. He was at Kendall’s meeting. Doesn’t he care about his job? Who else has he told?”
“He said no one, but that’s kind of hard to believe.”
“I’ll say. The guy is a real busybody.”
“But he did want you to know. Do you think we should call the police?”
“And tell them what? We have a rumor going around that I may have killed the boss. And, in case you hear that suspicion, it’s not true.”
“It’s probably best to ignore it.” We began the trek up the hill toward Kitty’s. “Like you said, it’s only rumor and lies.”
“Rumor and lies that he’s probably running his mouth about all over the place. I need to tell Kendall.”
“Maybe he’s not. He made me play the music loud to mask our voices.”
We arrived at the back door, and Marc squared himself in front of me, his face still drained of color. He cupped a hand on each of my shoulders. “April, you need to help me quash these rumors. Ramón died of a heart attack. Period. If word gets out he was murdered, a lot of damage could be done to Rescaté’s reputation. I’m afraid for the kids we support.”
I stared at the pink and white tulips bordering the circular drive, then faced him and nearly crumbled at his earnest expression. “There’s something you need to know that isn’t rumor. I never told you that I overheard Ramón on the phone the day I had my interview with him. He was angry and yelled at the other person that if money wasn’t in his bank account soon, the person would pay. Then he said if he was found harmed, his people would know who to blame.”
The skin around his mouth and eyes tightened. “And then you saw that person in the orange cap the next morning.”
I dropped my gaze and studied a glop of sauce from the Chicken George splattered on my left shoe. “I don’t know why I forgot about that phone conversation until Kitty reminded me, but I did.”
“Now your aunt is in on the rumor.” He paced a circle, his face growing redder by the moment. He stopped and faced me, arms crossed, his legs planted wide. “Don’t you know what happens when someone tells another and that person tells another?”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course I do. I was trying to stop her from imagining Ramón was killed. But now I wonder if it’s true. We need to—”
“And next you’ll wonder if I did it. Thanks a lot, April.” He turned and stomped across the drive. Bits of gravel sprayed out from his heels with every footfall.
So now he was telling me how I thought? He was on the grass and almost to the trees. I had to stop him. I sprinted across the lawn and grabbed his arm. He stopped and turned, but he didn’t pull his arm out of my grasp. “I think no such thing, Marc Thorne. I know for a fact you aren’t a killer. I was the only one to overhear that conversation and see the person running from the mansion. In spite of those two things, I don’t want to learn Ramón was murdered. But if he was, the killer has to be exposed before you get blamed for something you didn’t do.” I searched his face with my gaze and softened my tone. “I’m keeping my eyes and ears open for anything that will expose the truth.”
The tension in his face dissolved and he tweaked my nose. “You know, April, your insatiable desire to help others is one of the things that made me fall in love with you.” He stepped closer until the lingering scent of his cologne filled my senses. Taking a deep breath, he ran his eyes over me until they came to my mouth. “I’ve never found anyone who could . . .”
A dull pain filled my chest. I wanted more than anything to taste his kiss again, but I stepped away.
The glimmer left his eyes. “I need to get back. See you tomorrow.” He turned and broke into a loping jog through the pines.
Chapter 18
I found Kitty in the kitchen preparing a meatloaf. Tulip rubbed her gray striped body against my aunt’s leg, letting out demanding meows, while Daisy, her partner in crime, was nowhere in sight. I focused on the ground meat oozing between Kitty’s fingers and let the repetitive motion of her kneading calm me. She formed the glob into a rectangle and placed it in a foil-lined bread pan.
I stepped over to the side-by-side fridge and grabbed a Diet Coke. “Remember when we talked about the rumor that Ramón was killed? I popped the tab on the can and took a swig. The tingle of the carbonated liquid on my tongue felt wonderful.
Kitty crossed to the stainless eye-level oven and slid the pan onto the rack, then closed the door and turned. “How could I not?”
I plopped onto a kitchen chair as a tear escaped from my left eye and trailed down my cheek. “Now it’s worse. According to Karl, the latest newsflash on the Rescaté grapevine is that Marc is suspected of murdering Ramón.”
Her hand flew to her chest. “My word. If this is some kind of a sick joke.”
I cringed the sight of the hand-shaped grease mark on her new knit top. I should have waited to tell her about the rumor after she washed her hands. “Funny. Marc said almost the same thing.”
“What is he going to do?” She picked up a potholder and hung it on a hook near the stove.
“What can he do? It’s rumor and so far the only thing we know is what Karl told me. Kendall hasn’t mentioned anything, nor has anyone else. Ignoring it and moving on is probably the best. By the way you may want to change your top and get that one soaking.”
Kitty glanced down at the spot. “I knew I should have put on an apron. I’ll change after we’re done talking. She went to the sink and turned on the hot water before soaping up her hands. “Even if all we hear are rumors, we need to stay on top of things. The early bird gets the prize you know.”
Even Kitty’s twisted idiom didn’t make me laugh. How could I when the only man I ever loved might be hauled off to jail? I reminded myself “loved” was in past tense, but that didn’t mean I shouldn’t help him clear his name if necessary.
I took a swallow of my soda. “Seems to me going to the source and shutting them up is the answer. But, I don’t even know who started the rumor.”
By now she was blotting a damp cloth on her top. “I’ve been thinking about the telephone conversation you overheard. Almost sounds like Ramón was blackmailing someone.”
“Blackmail? How?”
“Didn’t he say if money wasn’t in his account immediately?”
“He didn’t say a specified timeframe. But yeah, he did say that along with if he were found harmed his people would know who to blame. Guess it could be blackmail.”
“During tomorrow’s memorial service we need to keep our sights on people and our ears open. We know Candy and Ramón had issues. Who were the other women you mentioned?”
“Ana, his ex fiancé. She helped me today with food prep. And his sister, Isabel.”
“How did Ana seem?”
“Stunning, well-to-do, mysterious, and moody.”
Kitty joined me at the table. “How mysterious?”
I shrugged. “Gorgeous, but distant and unfriendly. She’s a terrible conversationalist. I did all the talking, trying to draw her out. But, I wasn’t observing her from a murderer angle.” I sipped my drink as my thoughts trailed back to my attempts at socializing. Was she distant because she didn’t want me finding out something that would expose her as a killer? She wasn’t even dating Ramón anymore. But her clothes reeked money, not to mention that cocktail ring on her finger or her diamond studs. If Ramón was blackmailing her, it appeared she could lay her hands on some serious dough.
My reflections drifted to the night at the Apple. “As long as we’re on this delightful subject, Candy may not make enough money to factor into the blackmail scheme, but I did hear a strange conversation between her and a guy she’s crushing on.”
Kitty frowned.
“Crushing?”
“She has a huge crush on the dude. Seems he’s dropping cash into her bank account. I have no idea how much or why.”
“What’s his name?”
“Brett something. The last was three or four syllables long, but I can’t remember.”
Kitty drummed her gelled nails on the tabletop. “The other woman we mentioned was Ramón’s sister. Does she have money?”
“Yes, according to Karl. Or at least her husband does. She’s the one Karl thinks killed Ramón—if he was murdered.” I rubbed my temples against a headache. “I can’t believe we’re even talking about this.”
“I can’t either.” She tossed the damp rag into the sink. “Why don’t you go upstairs and have a soak in my spa tub. Run those jets on high. While your doing that I’ll make a list of what we need to look for tomorrow.”
I stared at Kitty. Did she fancy herself as one of those cozy mystery sleuths or something? Who was this woman and what did she do with my crazy, lovable aunt?
Chapter 19
By the time the funeral began, Ana and I managed to have everything ready to go for the buffet. A feat I wasn’t sure we’d achieve, considering the restless night I had worrying about Marc. Having the meal to prepare turned out to be a good distraction as it kept me focused.
A few minutes before 11:00, wearing my cleaned and pressed white chef coat and black trousers, I poked my head out from behind the folding screen and peeked at the mourners. The shore-dwellers, as the town folks knew them, had collected in front of the window wall. Men in dark suits and the women in silk and wool. Kitty could have easily been a part of that group, but she stood in the center aisle where the townies had gathered wearing an assortment of sports jackets, pants with matching tops, and skirt-sets.
At the far end of the ballroom, Marc stood next to the podium shaking hands with a dark-haired woman. A craggy-faced man with a thatch of gray hair stood off to the side. By his Western-cut suit jacket and the cowboy hat he held, the couple had to be Ramón’s sister, and her ex-roper, rich-rancher husband.
Thyme for Love (Cooking Up Trouble Book 1) Page 10
