“Take greed, add envy and desperation and, voila, you've created a toxic cocktail. Do you really find it that hard to believe that people like that might find you intimidating, and even envy you a little?”
“Yes, I do,” I replied slowly. “I’m at an age where more of my life is behind me than ahead of me. Money doesn’t buy happiness, slow down the aging process, or keep trouble away. I don’t have a husband or children, and my career’s coming to a close.”
“Whoa! Wait! I doubt that. Marvelous Marley World Enterprises just lost three key execs. The biggest problem you’re going to face is which position to fill as you move up the ladder. Despite all the hoopla about youth, it’s mature folks like us who run things. Unless you want to retire, I’d say there’s another decade or more for you at the Cat Factory, right?”
“Yes, although after this week another decade sounds like an eternity. You’re right, of course.” I smiled as Jack went on with his pep talk.
“As for kids, I’ll bet Max Marley might have a bone-weary word or two for you about having chosen the path of parenthood. That just leaves the husband issue. Who knows? Maybe there’s some guy around who thinks it’s a miracle you’re single. Could be he’s a little intimidated, too, but so bedazzled he was willing to make a fool of himself by asking you to dinner, even in the middle of a homicide investigation.” Those brown eyes mirrored the earnestness in his words. I took the hand he offered and smiled. Snap, crackle, pop!
—THE END—
Recipes and Tips
Flourless Chocolate Cake*
Ingredients
1 pound semisweet chocolate, chopped
1 cup (2 sticks) unsalted butter
1/4 cup coffee liqueur
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
7 large eggs, room temperature
1 cup sugar
Powdered sugar
Preparation
Preheat oven to 350°F. Butter 9-inch-diameter spring form pan with 2 3/4-inch-high sides. Line bottom of pan with parchment paper. Stir chocolate, butter, coffee liqueur, and vanilla in heavy large saucepan over low heat until melted and smooth. Cool to lukewarm.
Using electric mixer, beat eggs and 1 cup sugar in large bowl until thick and pale, and slowly dissolving ribbon forms when beaters are lifted, about 6 minutes. Fold 1/3 of egg mixture into lukewarm chocolate mixture. Fold remaining egg mixture into chocolate mixture.
Place prepared pan on baking sheet. Transfer batter to prepared pan. Bake until tester inserted into center comes out with moist crumbs attached, about 55 minutes. Cool 5 minutes. Gently press down edges of cake. Cool completely in pan. Cake can be prepared up to 1 day ahead. Cover with plastic wrap and refrigerate. Let stand at room temperature 1 hour before continuing.
Run knife around pan sides to loosen cake. Remove sides of pan; transfer cake to platter. Remove parchment paper. Sprinkle cake with powdered sugar and serve. 12 Servings
*from Cafe Mundo San Jos Costa Rica
Prawn Cocktail with Marie Rose Sauce*
Ingredients
Lemon juice, to taste
Salt, to taste
20 x raw tiger prawns, shells on
1 small head butterleaf lettuce
cayenne pepper, to serve
For the sauce
1/2 lemon, juice only
1 tablespoon Worcestershire sauce
5 tablespoons tomato ketchup
few drops Tabasco sauce
2 pinches smoked paprika
1/2 teaspoon paprika
1 tablespoon double cream
4 tablespoons mayonnaise
1 pinch cayenne pepper
pinch salt
1 tsp cracked black pepper
Preparation
Bring a large pan of water to a boil. Add a squeeze of lemon and salt. Add the whole prawns and cook until they rise to the surface. Drain and chill in ice-cold water.
Peel the cooled prawns, leaving one prawn unpeeled (for the garnish).
Cut the head of lettuce in half and rinse.
For the sauce, mix all the sauce ingredients together.
To assemble the cocktails, drain the lettuce and pat dry with kitchen paper. Arrange a few lettuce leaves, lining martini glasses or small bowls. Shred the remaining leaves and toss with the peeled prawns and sauce. Top with the unpeeled prawn and a sprinkling of cayenne pepper. 4 Servings
*from Master Chef John Torode featured on BBC website
Mushroom Crusted Chilean Sea Bass*
Ingredients
7-ounce fillet of Chilean sea bass
6 ounces dried porcini mushrooms
8 ounces white mushroom — rinsed and sliced
8 ounces Portobello mushroom — sliced
3 cloves garlic
2 tablespoon softened butter
2 ounces fresh basil leaves chopped
1 cup white unseasoned panko crumbs
salt and pepper to taste
spring onions or leeks, thinly sliced, for garnish
Directions
Soak dried porcini mushrooms in enough hot water to just cover when submerged — ‘til softened. Place soaked mushrooms with its liquid, white mushrooms, and Portobello mushrooms in a pot and bring to a boil.
Lower flame to a simmer, add butter, a tsp of salt & pepper — stir to incorporate butter and liquids with salt and pepper. Cook for about 30 minutes on a low flame — watch to make sure the liquids do not evaporate all the way, add water if necessary.
Remove from stove top, let cool to room temperature. Remove excess liquid and set aside. Place mushroom mixture in a food processor and blend till smooth, adding the liquid set aside as needed to keep it a smooth texture.
Now add the freshly chopped basil and continue to process. Once all ingredients are blended well, add unseasoned panko crumbs — this will firm up the crust. Season with sea salt and freshly ground pepper. Heat a cast iron skillet with 1 tsp olive oil and sear the fish on both sides for about 2 to 3 minutes. Remove from stove top and coat top of fish with the mushroom mixture about 1/4 inch. Place in preheated 400º oven for 10 minutes until fish flakes.
Fry thinly sliced leeks and place on top of crust to garnish. 1 serving
*from Albert A Bijou, Executive Chef at The Coffee Bar, a much-heralded Kosher restaurant in Lawrence, New York
Love Notes in the Key of Sea: Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery #2
Anna Celeste Burke
DEDICATION
To second chances at love and pretty much everything else we tackle in this life. And to the power of love to triumph over tragedy
1 Alarming News
“Jack, there’s been a murder!” Jack and I had been sitting on my patio, taking in the view of the Pacific Ocean when my phone rang. Summer was well on its way, here, on the Southern California Coast in June. Still, a chill hung in the air as the sun sank toward the horizon. The chill I felt wasn’t entirely due to the weather. Before I could say more, Jack jumped to his feet and pulled his phone out of the pocket of his jeans.
“I don’t see a message. Why would someone from the department call me on your landline?”
“They didn’t. The murder’s not here. It’s on a beach somewhere in North Carolina near where Jennifer Dodson’s daughter has been going to school. Someone attacked Meredith on the beach.”
“No! Are you saying someone murdered Jennifer’s kid?”
“No, Meredith’s not dead, but a man stabbed her, and she’s recovering in the hospital. Jennifer flew out there a couple of days ago. She didn’t call me until she was sure Meredith was going to be alright. There have been a series of attacks at the beach—all women. Meredith was fortunate, apparently, since she lived through the assault. Another woman attacked in a separate incident died. The next night a third attack occurred. Kat Benson, a graduate student in art history at UNC Chapel Hill, attends the same school where Meredith’s enrolled. She’s not dead, but not doing well.”
“Did Meredith know both other women?” I could tell I had triggered Jack’s detecti
ve side and had set his inquisitive mind in motion.
“Kat yes, but not the woman murdered on the first night—Jenna somebody—I don’t remember her last name. Kat was a graduate assistant for an undergrad art history course Meredith took. I guess they hit it off and became friends. Meredith was distraught when the police questioned her and grew even more upset when told someone had attacked her friend, too. Meredith’s scared.”
“Who could blame her? It’s hard to feel safe when something horrific like that happens.”
“The police have the attacker, but Jennifer’s not convinced it’s safe for Meredith, either, so she plans to bring her home as soon as she can. I hate to change our plans for the weekend, Jack, but I’m going to visit Jennifer and Meredith when they get home. Jennifer seems to think it would be good for me to be there because…” It’s as though something suddenly swallowed me up and I couldn’t finish that sentence.
“Because you went through something similar at Meredith’s age. What exactly, I don’t know, do I? Every time the subject comes up, you slip away, then go silent. It’s like a ghost story. Only the ghost is the part of you that steals away to Corsario Cove whenever something sets off your memories of that event. You’re otherwise one of the smartest, most with-it women I’ve ever met, and yet you carry this secret around with you like Marley’s chain. Not your boss Marley, but that ghost in the Dickens Christmas story. I… I’m going to shut up. We’ve been through this before, and I don’t want to make you feel worse since you’re obviously upset. When you’re ready to talk, I’m here.”
“I am having this déjà vu experience. I don’t always know what will trigger it, but news about a murder on the beach has set it off, big time.”
I stared at the new man in my life, trying to figure out why I couldn’t say more. Jack Wheeler’s the first man I’ve been this close to in years. No, make it decades. I’m not talking about a mere flirtation with the handsome homicide detective—a Jim Rockford lookalike. Not a fling, either. There had been other men since that horrendous incident in Corsario Cove changed my life forever. Since then, I had learned that attraction may be instantaneous, but not love. None of the men I met after losing Danny had me contemplating love and marriage—until Jack. The more I thought about making a serious commitment, though, the more all the old memories hounded me.
“I want to tell you what happened. I should have done it already. It’s just...” Jack took a step forward and pulled me into his arms.
“You’re trembling. Maybe I should go with you this weekend. I like your friend Jennifer. She’s been on my side when it comes to getting you to take me—us—seriously.”
How would it feel to show up in Corsario Cove with a new man? I mused, considering his offer. I had grown up there. In San Albinus, actually, a small town not far from Corsario Cove on California’s Central Coast. Before I was twenty, I had gone off to college, not far away, at UC Santa Cruz. That’s where I met the love of my life. Corsario Cove is where I lost him. I had already told Jack that much. I settled into his arms.
“Jennifer’s an incurable romantic. She fancies herself to be quite a matchmaker, too. A skill she claims she’s honed matching clients to their dream vacations if you can believe that! As far as she’s concerned, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Could be, she’s right, I thought. I liked the feeling of his arms around me. He smelled terrific, too—clean and fresh like the outdoors. No discernible scent of anything artificial, like soap or cologne. Honest and direct, like the man. I leaned into him as the chill fled, replaced by the now familiar sensation I often experienced around Jack. Snap, crackle, pop—a series of enticing feelings that were hard to describe.
“Jennifer is right. I’m your man.”
Jack tilted my head up and kissed me. Those sensations reached all the way down to the tips of my toes as I returned that kiss.
“I’ll call Jennifer and tell her we’ll both be there for the weekend. She can get us a great deal on rooms at The Sanctuary Resort and Spa. It’s on me, though. I’m sure you didn’t have a weekend getaway figured into your budget.”
Homicide detectives don't make much money. Jack’s not the kind of guy who throws money around. Still, the OC, as we refer to Orange County, is not a very affordable place to live. That’s true even in Irvine, away from the chichi Newport Coast where I live.
Jack owns a comfy townhouse or will one day when he finishes paying the mortgage. He’s trying to save for retirement, and he has a daughter in college who needs his help. Not that he’s legally obligated to pay child support any longer. “An obligation of the heart, not the divorce decree,” he had said one evening when we were talking about his relationship with his daughter Beth. Jack does okay, but he doesn’t have much left over at the end of the month. So far, we had worked around the difference in our expendable incomes. It wasn’t always easy. Jack isn’t what I’d call macho, but he does have a fierce, independent streak that resists my efforts to subsidize our fun.
“I don’t want to tangle with you about money. I can’t always keep up with what you can afford on the megabucks you get working for the Cat, but I don’t mind paying my fair share. I would like to see where you grew up. In a way, you’re doing me a favor so I’m happy to share the costs.” He let me go, but I stayed close as we talked. Close enough to see the sparks that danced in his dark eyes when he was adamant. I had made up my mind, though, and picked up my argument that I was paying for our trip.
“Trust me, The Sanctuary Resort and Spa is outrageous, even at a discount. Let me spend some of that bonus you helped me get by keeping me alive so I could advance my career at the Cat Factory.”
That I was now dating a homicide detective had not come about under the most pleasant circumstances. After three months, the hubbub about a Murder at Catmmando Mountain had finally subsided. Finding a high-ranking Marvelous Marley World executive viciously killed in the Arcadia theme park on Valentine’s Day had created a stir. Especially scintillating news when it turned out that the victim was the founder’s daughter. Max Marley had not only built the Arcadia theme park—several theme parks, in fact—but much more. That includes resorts, movies, animated features and shorts, characters and other Marvelous Marley World products. The brilliant, but eccentric man, presides over a multi-billion-dollar entertainment empire. It’s all rooted in the success of a cartoon cat—Catmmando Tom. That’s the reason for our frequent references to working for the Cat at the Cat Factory.
The shakeup in Max Marley’s world in the wake of his daughter’s death had been both personal and professional. Max Marley had gone into seclusion and remained there. That action spilled over to the professional side, leaving a gap in leadership at the top where Max had held the reins for nearly four decades as founder of Marvelous Marley World. We did the best we could to move forward in his absence.
The tragic incident had changed things for me, too. Mallory Marley-Marston was Director of the Food and Beverage Division at the time of her murder. It was the job I had wanted for years once I moved from the kitchen where I worked as a chef and into management. In time, I had made my way up the ranks to Assistant Director of the Food and Beverage Division. When the Director position became available, I was more than a little disappointed that Max Marley finagled a way to place his daughter in that role.
That made her my boss, and her tyrannical reign had been a nightmare. After a year, I couldn’t take it anymore and gladly accepted the chance to make a lateral move to become Assistant Director of the Public Relations Division at Marvelous Marley World. I had no idea what was going on behind the scenes when I made that move into PR. Less than a year later Cruella de Vil, as we referred to Mallory behind her back, was dead. I would have preferred to have stepped into the role she left vacant under more pleasant circumstances, but Mallory’s death had left no one at the helm.
I took the job, and that’s where I intend to spend the remaining years at Marvelous Marley World until I retire. Not that I
have had time to think about retirement. My position as Director of the Food and Beverage Division wasn’t the only executive spot left open. There was my old job to fill in public relations. Several other positions had opened once the whole story surrounding Mallory’s murder came to light. Ripple effects, too, as we moved those already working at the Cat Factory around to fill empty slots. The first couple of months after the Murder at Catmmando Mountain had seemed like a game of musical chairs at times.
Still, that part of the ordeal was over. We had reestablished leadership at Marvelous Marley World, albeit without much participation from Max. I could afford to take a weekend away, although I felt guilty about it. Maybe just a cover for my anxiety about visiting my hometown. A tragedy had driven me away from Corsario Cove. How ironic that another one now lured me back decades later. Jennifer had invited me to all sorts of important events in her life and the life of San Albinus. I had only yielded to her requests once.
“It will be interesting. I haven’t visited in a long time. Not since Jennifer’s wedding more than twenty years ago which turned out to be a painful experience. I carried out my role as Maid of Honor, but it wasn’t easy. That was years after that awful night when I was assaulted, and Danny disappeared. I still couldn’t bring myself to go down to the beach. After Jennifer’s wedding, my parents left San Albinus and moved closer to me here in the OC. That meant I had even less reason to visit. Jennifer’s tried to keep me up-to-date. She always has plenty to say when she stays with me during visits to L.A. for business related to the travel agency she runs. It sounds like a lot has changed.”
Georgie Shaw Cozy Mystery Box Set Page 9
