by Hazel Holmes
“Good question. I honestly don’t know.”
34
Clara laid the ivory lace tablecloth over the mahogany Victorian-style table. She took a lighter and carefully lit the orange candle first. She brought it up to her nose and inhaled the heavy, rich nutmeg scent of pumpkin pie. It brought her back to Thanksgivings at her grandparents’ house, warm memories. Those were exactly the kind of feelings she was trying to evoke in this room.
Ezra had fallen in love with the dining space from the moment he saw it, so he didn’t want to make many changes to it. But he shared Clara’s desire to bring some warmth to the snowy room with all its white, silver, and blue touches. They both envisioned the ambiance of diners walking into the cool colored room and congregating around tables that radiated warmth, encouraged memories to resurface, while making new ones as they ate homemade food that had been prepared with lots of love. They wanted to make their guests feel comfortable and cozy. They wanted to touch that subconscious level of the mind that longed for something familiar and nurturing in a world that could often be anything but.
Clara put the candle down on the table, then glanced at the others. She was only going to be setting one of the tables today, to allow them to fully experience what their guests would experience when they ate here. But she wanted to be able to smell what the room would smell like with the assortment of candles laid out, though there’d only be one on each table.
So, she took out the red one next. Cinnamon joined apple to create visions of apple pie through smell alone. It reminded her of Christmas, laughter, and love. She set it on the table to the left, then took out the final scent. Sweet sugar cookies made her mouth water. She wanted to dig into dessert right away, but she set the candle on the table on the right and continued setting up the room.
They’d spent a bit of extra money on elaborate, vintage gold silverware and ivory napkins with gold prints embedded in the fabric. She finished the look off with an ornate heating plate that would host a small loaf of Irish brown bread, then sat down to wait for the food to come out.
Clara was nervous. She had debated if she should even come to the menu tasting. She didn’t want to be around Nathaniel for so long, and she was a little wary of eating anything he would be cooking. She didn’t trust him one bit. But she knew this day was important to Ezra. He had worked hard on this menu and he was excited to show it off. Besides, she wanted to play an active role in everything that had anything to do with the bed and breakfast. She was curious to see what the menu would be like, and she wanted to throw her input in there. She wanted to see for herself the kind of dining experience they’d be offering to their guests.
She reminded herself she was safe. Ezra knew enough to be careful now, and there wasn’t anything poisonous near the kitchen at all. It’d be bold of Nathaniel to even try to poison them so early on. And if Nathaniel did poison the food somehow, Ezra would certainly eat the poison and Clara wasn’t sure she wanted to survive his death anyway. They were in this together, no matter the outcome.
Ezra was still going to have a discussion with Nathaniel, but they agreed that he’d have that discussion after the menu tasting. They could talk while they cleaned up, or as they simply let the food digest. People were usually more pleasant when they were full of good food.
Clara tried her best to tuck her worries away as she admired the dining room and brought their vision to life.
Meanwhile, Ezra focused on cooking his incredible dishes. This was important to him. One of the most important parts of starting this was figuring out the menu, and he had put a lot of thought into it. This was his chance to have control over everything, and it was freeing and nerve-wracking. He needed this to go smoothly. Yet, he was still a little distracted.
He didn’t think Nathaniel was a bad person, nor did he think he had bad intentions. But he couldn’t ignore everything he learned about Nathaniel’s family’s past. And with Clara’s safety on the line, he had to be careful. So, he watched Nathaniel as much as he could. He made sure he hadn’t brought anything into the kitchen with him. He made sure he wasn’t reaching for any ingredient the recipe didn’t call for.
It was a tough balancing act. For the most part, Ezra did well but he did mess up a few times, and he knew those mistakes were simply the result of having to look out for something he wasn’t even sure was a threat. It was frustrating, beyond frustrating. But finally, the food started coming together, and they were able to start plating their sample-sized dishes.
After the first bite of homemade bread, Clara was grateful she had joined them. “This is delicious,” she said as the slightly sweet bread melted in her mouth. “I honestly don’t think I’ve ever had bread this good.”
“It’s an old recipe my father used to make,” Nathaniel explained. “It honestly makes the best sandwiches. Though of course, it’s great on its own too.”
Ezra and Clara paused. Ezra watched their interaction carefully. He knew the first thing that would come to Clara’s mind, and he was right. She didn’t need or want this reminder of Nathaniel’s father and the access he had to feeding the family.
“It’s admirable, really,” Nathaniel continued. “He’d come home from a long day at work on Friday and make up some homemade bread, every single week unless he was horribly sick. I’m telling you, we never bought bread from the store. He said it was full of chemicals and simply an insult to what bread should be. So, he’d make the bread and then, on Saturday morning we would go hiking together. Our reward would be fresh sandwiches on top of the mountain, with fresh baked cookies.
“My um… well, my mom used to make the cookies. The tradition didn’t end when she passed. I just took over the role of cookie maker. I can make some delicious chocolate chip cookies.”
“It’s true,” Ezra said with a smile. “I’ve tried one. They are delicious.”
“Chocolate chip cookies, huh?” Clara asked, as she remembered sneaking down for lunch and seeing a few chocolate chip cookies left out. She’d stolen one and it was one of the best she ever had. Nathaniel nodded. “I think I might’ve tried one myself, and it was delicious. You’re quite talented in the kitchen.”
“Thanks,” Nathaniel blushed. “It’s my passion. Cooking means the world to me, and since my parents loved it too, it connects me to them in a way.”
“That’s wonderful, and it sounds like those are really great memories,” Clara admitted. She started to understand why Ezra was so protective of Nathaniel. There was a genuine warmth and openness about him that made him easy to like. “I used to love hiking with my brother when I was growing up. There’s something about nature that brings people together in the best way.”
“Definitely,” Nathaniel agreed. “I trust people more once I can go on a hike with them. Being outside and working through a challenge like that allows guards to slip down a bit, I think. You get a better sense of who the other person truly is. Maybe I can show you guys a trail sometime.”
“We’d love that,” Clara said. If he wasn’t a killer, of course. She hoped he wasn’t. Though she was far from trusting him. She still suspected he was at least not being fully honest about why he was there. She still suspected that he was hoping they’d fail. Even if he didn’t have plans to kill them, certainly he’d try to sabotage them in some way.
Yet despite her persistent suspicions, after that it was easier for conversation to flow between the three. That first bite of bread was an indicator of great things to come as incredible dishes followed, full of layered flavors and perfect textures. Ezra’s menu boasted unique dishes, mixed with homestyle favorites, fancier fare, and a few dishes from the Victorian era.
It was difficult to pull from different sources and create a menu that didn’t seem mismatched, that had a clear purpose, but they managed to do so flawlessly. Ezra and Nathaniel had put a lot of thought and work into it, so it didn’t seem chaotic. For the most part, the dishes fit together and those that didn’t were struck off the menu. Overall, there were few changes to be m
ade. Everyone was pleased with their work.
“I don’t think I could eat another bite,” Clara said, looking at the array of dishes still left. She had tried each one, but there were still so many leftovers. No one would be complaining about that though.
“We’ll be eating good for some time,” Ezra said.
“Do tell me you’ll take some home too,” Clara said as she looked over at Nathaniel.
“I’d love to,” Nathaniel replied. “Leftovers are my favorite. Especially when they’re this good.”
“You certainly deserve it,” Ezra said. “I love what we have so far, and I couldn’t have done it without you. I really appreciate your help. Let’s discuss all this a bit further, figure out what works, what doesn’t, think over any changes. Then we’ll pack it up and you can decide what you want.”
“I’ll leave you guys to it then,” Clara said, standing. She knew what came next and she wanted no part of it.
They all had enjoyed their meal together, and Clara and Ezra were both sad to see it end. Neither of them was happy about what had to follow. But Ezra couldn’t avoid it forever. He needed to get answers. This needed to be taken care of.
Ezra hugged and kissed his wife, then Clara took off. Ezra sat back down facing Nathaniel. He still wasn’t quite sure how to broach the impossible topic, but he had to try.
35
Ezra thought about discussing the menu changes first, simply because he wanted to avoid the more unpleasant topic, and he was excited to delve into ideas about the menu. His passion lay in cooking and he genuinely liked working with Nathaniel. He wanted him to be part of finishing up this menu. He hoped the conversation would go well so he could continue working with Nathaniel.
However, there was that possibility that the conversation wouldn’t go well. There was a chance that Nathaniel would get angry and leave. There was a chance that he’d respond in a way that was so suspicious, that Ezra would have to fire him on the spot. He didn’t want to ask Nathaniel to work with him before doing so. He didn’t want to take advantage of his help if he was going to quit or be fired right after.
They had already done the cooking, of course. But Ezra had allowed that because he suspected it would be fun for Nathaniel, and it seemed like it was. Besides, who would want to miss out on a meal like that? It was Ezra’s way of trying to do something nice before bringing up something awful.
He still didn’t know how to bring up something so awful. He had thought about it a lot ever since he decided it was a conversation they needed to have, and he still hadn’t come up with a good way to broach the topic. There simply was no delicate, nice way to ask someone if their father committed murder. There’s no good way to question someone’s intentions, especially if you’re worried their intentions could be deadly.
“I wanted to talk to you before we start on the menu,” Ezra said, plunging right in. “But first, I think more dessert is in order.”
They were both stuffed, but the cheesecake had been incredible so they each grabbed another one of the miniature slices. Ezra took a bite. Nathaniel waited patiently for him to continue.
“I want you to know I’ve appreciated everything you’ve done so far,” Ezra said. “You’ve been an incredible help in creating this menu, and the dishes you cooked tasted amazing. You truly are talented. It’s not easy having only two people in the kitchen currently. Opening a new restaurant in general isn’t easy. Especially since this is my first time.
“I like to think I’ve done well so far, but there has been some confusion. I’ve been figuring out a few things as I’ve gone along, as there’s some things you just don’t think about until you start doing them. There have been a few mistakes made and you’ve been patient throughout all of it.”
Nathaniel laughed a laugh that sounded like it was supposed to be carefree but was forced to be carefree. He looked away, then back at Ezra. “Thank you,” he said. “But it kind of sounds like I’m in trouble or something.”
“You’re not in trouble,” Ezra assured him, though it was difficult having Nathaniel mention something like that. He saw right through Ezra’s praise, and Ezra didn’t want to continue the conversation. Yet it’d be more difficult if he avoided it now and had to bring it up later. There was no turning back, even if he worried he was orchestrating a train wreck.
“I just… my wife and I learned a bit more about the history of this bed and breakfast. We recently learned more about your family and their history with the place, and I wanted to talk to you about that.”
Nathaniel paled as he rubbed his hands on the tops of his legs. His posture stiffened. Ezra had never seen him look so nervous. Did that mean he was guilty and untrustworthy? He still wasn’t sure.
“What does my family history have to do with my employment here?” Nathaniel asked, his voice lacking the confidence it usually had.
“It has to do with why you might be working here,” Ezra admitted.
“We already went over this,” Nathaniel pointed out.
“Yes, and I’m not trying to accuse you of any wrongdoing. It’s just, considering this new information, I felt I had to talk to you further about it. You see, I learned about your grandparents. I know they built this bed and breakfast. I know… I know about what your grandfather did here.”
Nathaniel froze, and Ezra hated how young he looked. Nathaniel hadn’t even been born yet when his grandfather killed his grandmother, but it seemed like it was something that followed him. Surely the townspeople brought it up a time or two. And if Sam mentioned his suspicions of Billy, that meant other people must’ve thought about it too. Nathaniel couldn’t have escaped the fallout from the decisions his family made. He would’ve been left to deal with the aftermath, the rumors, suspicion, gossip. Ezra was once again struck by how unfair this all was. Yet he had to be vigilant. He urged himself to keep going.
“This house has been part of your family history for a long time,” Ezra continued. “Your father would’ve inherited it had his parents not passed away. You would’ve inherited it if they hadn’t passed away. That must be tough to deal with. It must be difficult working here and knowing that it could’ve been yours.”
“Not usually,” Nathaniel replied through gritted teeth. “Though I’ll admit it’s a little tough when you keep bringing it up. Otherwise, I really don’t think about it. But it’s hard not to think about it when you keep questioning me. When you keep reminding me of how difficult it should be. I mean, I didn’t even think about how this could’ve been mine in another life, but now that you mention it… What kind of response do you expect?”
Nathaniel’s defenses were raised, but Ezra couldn’t be sure if that spoke to his guilt or simply his frustration. Ezra himself would’ve been frustrated if someone kept bringing up his father’s death and questioning how it impacted him. He couldn’t see a way around it though.
“I can see where my questioning would be frustrating,” Ezra replied, trying to convey as much empathy and understanding as possible. He kept his tone low, trying to keep the situation from bubbling into a fight. “I wish I didn’t have to keep bringing it up. But you must understand my need to keep my family safe.”
“Keep your family safe?” Nathaniel’s eyebrows rose as his cheeks reddened. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
Ezra tried to find the right words, but they seemed to be lost in an abyss somewhere out of his reach. He didn’t want to sound like he was accusing Nathaniel of anything, but he didn’t know how to ask about this without it sounding like that.
“I just mean that… I guess… we have some concerns regarding your father.”
“My father?” Nathaniel crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes lit with flames of fury. That insecure, worried young man was replaced with someone who was confident and ready to fight. It made Ezra feel a little less bad, though he still couldn’t blame Nathaniel for this reaction.
“Yes,” Ezra paused. There was no delicate way to go about it, so like usual, he dove right in. “Olivia
and Kyle were poisoned. The only people who were making food for them at the time was your father and their parents. Yet Lyla and Richard don’t seem like the kind of people who would kill their children.”
“And my father seems like the kind of guy who would kill children?” Nathaniel leaned forward, his body tense and ready to snap. “Is that what you’re trying to say? That my father killed Olivia and Kyle?
“You didn’t even know him. You didn’t know Lyla or Richard either. What makes you think he’d be more likely to kill Olivia and Kyle than they would? What makes you think he seems more like that kind of person? I’ve had nothing but nice things to say about all of them, yet you jump to that conclusion. How dare you?”
Ezra had to admit that he had a point. They didn’t know Lyla, Richard, or Billy. They couldn’t judge who would be more likely to kill the children. But he had heard enough from Sam to have his suspicions. Plus, there was the family history.
“I’m not saying your father killed them,” Ezra explained. “I’m just saying I can’t write it off as impossible after hearing about that history. From the sounds of it, Richard and Lyla didn’t have reason to want their children dead. They didn’t gain anything from their murder.
“Your father on the other hand… Well, his parents built this bed and breakfast. He grew up here, he probably though his future was here. Then, his parents died here. This property had to have meant a whole lot to him, and with Richard and Lyla here, he was never going to be able to make it his own.”
“So, you think he killed them to buy the property?” Nathaniel shook his head. “And what does this even have to do with me? You want to turn me against my father? Are you trying to solve their murder or something? Why bring it up? Why keep questioning me about it? It’s offensive and I’m not sure how you expect me to respond. I don’t know what you want out of me.”
