by Lyndsey Cole
“And Alex?”
“Oh yeah. I tend to forget about him since he wasn’t one of the original participants. He has me stumped. You met him. How likely do you think it is that he could be the murderer?” Every instinct told Annie that Alex wasn’t a killer but she had to be careful not to rule anyone out. And he had the odd timing to pop up when something was happening, which was disconcerting. Was that the private investigator side of him or was he trying to keep his finger on the pulse of what was happening to stay ahead of getting caught?
“You know, Annie, any one of the people who was stranded at the Blackbird could be the murderer.” He gave her a serious look. “Don’t forget it and let your emotions get in the way of logical thinking. That being said, how likely do I think it’s Alex? Not very at this point. But, really, what motive do any of them have that we know of?”
Annie sighed. “It could have something to do with what you found in those reviews—an unhappy past participant.”
“But murder? Why not just get a refund? And who killed the other guy?” Jason pulled into their driveway. “Want me to bring Roxy over later?”
“That’s a good idea.” Before Annie hopped out, she said, “I hope, once I find Tricia, she has some more clues to what happened to Phil and Chef Marcel last Friday. The way she hightailed it from Bigger Burger when she got off work makes me think she’s running away from talking about something she heard.” She slid out of Jason’s car and walked to hers.
“I’ll see you around four,” Jason said.
The Blackbird kitchen smelled mouthwateringly delicious when Annie walked in through the back door. Leona had a row of small cakes lined up on cooling racks.
“What’s that?”
“Thank goodness you’re back. I decided to make some cakes ahead of time in case you got sidetracked. This way we don’t have to wait for the new batch to bake. I’ll have everyone mix up batter and get their cakes in the oven, but then I can use these and get right to the frosting and decorating.”
“It looks like you made a bunch of chocolate cakes. I thought you were teaching how to make a cherry cake.” Annie bent down to smell one of the warm confections.
“I had to think of something a bit fancier so I dug out this different recipe. It’s something I haven’t made in a long time but I’m sure everyone will love it. It’s an individual serving of my rich cherry buried cake. It’s guaranteed to be a hit—layers of chocolate cake with cream cheese frosting and cherries between the layers, then it’s all covered with chocolate ganache and more cherries.” Leona licked her lips.
“The cherries go between the layers?”
“Some of them. There are several steps. I’ve got the dark chocolate ganache ready in this pot. The cream cheese filling is here, and I simmered some of the cherries with sugar and some cherry brandy. Fresh cherries will decorate the top after the layers are assembled.” Leona’s voice filled the kitchen with her excitement for her creation.
Alex poked his head into the kitchen. “Is it safe to come in yet?”
Leona nodded. “Get an apron and pick your spot. I won’t get started until everyone is here, though.”
Alex started to touch one of the individual cakes.
Leona swatted his hand away. “No touching! These are for after a new batch of batter is made and in the oven.”
Alex grinned. “You drive a hard bargain, Leona. Just walking into your kitchen gets my salivary glands dancing a tango.” He chose an apron covered with kitchen utensils this time—sharp knives being the main item. Odd choice, Annie thought.
Leona actually blushed a little from Alex’s compliment. He had her twisted around his finger with his helpfulness and praise. Annie wasn’t sure that was a good thing.
“I heard something interesting today about Chef Marcel,” Annie said, changing the subject from mouthwatering yumminess to stomach-turning worries.
“Oh?” Alex gave her his undivided attention.
Leona scowled.
“Were you aware of some scathing reviews about one of his recent workshops?”
The edge of Alex’s lip twitched as if he was making a decision on what he wanted to share with Annie. “Yes. I’ve been doing some searching online and came across something. If I knew who Chef Marcel had a problem with, it would be easier to make a connection to an actual person but, unfortunately, I never got that piece of information.”
“And Phil, or Philip as he was referred to in an article, was the one actually running the demonstration.”
“Yes, I saw that, too.”
Annie sent Jason a silent congratulations on his expert sleuthing. “I have a theory.”
Both Alex and Leona stared at Annie.
“I think there’s a possibility that Phil was blackmailing the chef.”
“Well,” Leona said, “there’s no way that Phil killed the chef. He was already dead. So, how does your theory help to solve anything?”
“What if it was the chef who killed Phil and someone here killed the chef for a completely different reason? I’ve been thinking about how the chef behaved before everyone went upstairs. He was flustered by everything—the storm, Phil not arriving, Alex showing up. Was he trying to find any excuse to get out of doing the workshop because he couldn’t do it on his own? I guess, what I’m wondering is, was the chef a fraud?”
Leona’s mouth fell open. “And I was worried about what he thought of my cooking?”
Alex nodded. “I’ve wondered that, too. But how could he have killed Phil? And why would he if it impacted his own performance?”
“The only thing that makes sense to me right now is that Phil was blackmailing the chef. If he killed Phil and somehow wiggled out of this workshop, he could regroup and find another person to help him. I found someone who might be able to shed more light on what went on at Bigger Burger.”
Alex’s mouth opened but closed as the kitchen door opened and the rest of the guests filed in. Annie let out a burst of air. This put an end to the speculation about Phil and Chef Marcel’s murders. For now.
Leona moved straight into her teaching mode without missing a beat.
Alex stared at Annie. His gaze bore into her as if he was trying to read her mind. She could tell he was dying of curiosity to find out what she knew but she didn’t plan to mention Tricia’s name to him. She would wait until she found Tricia again to hear whatever she had to share.
21
Once Leona got the baking demonstration under way, everyone seemed to be able to forget about the murder investigation going on around them.
Connie dipped her finger in her cake batter like a naughty three-year-old. “Yum. I love chocolate. But how is this going to be a cherry cake?” She took one of the cherries in a bowl at her space, dipped it in the batter, and popped it in her mouth. “This is delicious.”
Robin tried to swivel her phone to catch everyone’s progress and comments. Her ingredients were untouched and no batter filled her bowl.
George meticulously measured and stirred, ignoring everyone else. He was focused but it was hard to tell if he was enjoying himself.
Sarah spilled half of her premeasured ingredients on the table. Annie chuckled when she tried to sneakily brush her table clean. Did she think her cake would come out properly with half of the ingredients on the floor?
Alex hummed, measured, and stirred. He was the only one who seemed to be enjoying the baking lesson. Or was that just his cover?
A thumping on the front door caught Annie’s attention. She looked at Leona who rolled her eyes. “Can you check who’s there? It’s probably Detective Crank again. She usually just barges in, though, and doesn’t bother knocking.”
Annie wiped her hands and pushed through the kitchen door. She was impressed with how well Leona had everything under control. Annie didn’t feel like she was even needed in the kitchen at this point in the lesson. She pulled the front door open, wondering what rude comment would fall off Detective Crank’s tongue; probably a follow-up question about why s
he was at Bigger Burger earlier.
“Can I come in?” Tricia’s timid voice surprised Annie who pushed the door completely open and pulled Tricia toward her.
“Of course.” Annie stepped to one side so Tricia could move completely inside. Annie closed the door before Tricia could change her mind and skitter away like a scared deer. “I was wondering how I would track you down. I certainly wasn’t about to ask your boss for your contact information.”
“Thank you for that.” Tricia’s voice trembled, still barely higher than a whisper of wind through the trees. “That’s why I came here. I was terrified you’d ask him something about me.” She looked around the big entryway. “Is there someplace private where we can talk?”
Annie led Tricia to the living room. With all the guests in the kitchen, she hoped they could talk undisturbed.
Tricia stood just inside the doorway. She wrapped her arms around herself even though it was toasty warm with the fireplace burning. “After you mentioned the Blackbird Bed and Breakfast I took a gamble hoping I’d find you here.”
“You lucked out. Would you like some tea? Or coffee?” Annie wanted to help Tricia relax.
Tricia shook her head. “No. I just think someone should know what I remembered but I don’t want to stay too long.”
“Okay.” Annie gently guided Tricia to one of the comfy chairs. She sat kitty corner to her guest, hoping that would be a bit less intrusive than facing her directly. “Go ahead whenever you’re ready.” She forced her body to remain still instead of showing her impatience.
Before Tricia worked up the courage to speak, footsteps sounded in the dining room. She looked at Annie with fear. What did she know? Tricia stood; her head turned one way then the other as she scanned for an intruder.
Alex poked his head into the living room. “Leona asked me to find out who was at the door.”
Tricia quickly turned her face away from Alex.
Sensing Tricia’s discomfort, Annie laughed and put herself between Alex and Tricia, drawing his attention to herself. “Tell Leona it’s not the detective and I’ll be right back to help.”
Alex smiled. “The batter is in the oven and we are about to start assembling the final product. Just so you know.” He waved and left.
“That guy,” Tricia said when she was alone with Annie again, “who is he?”
“A private investigator. Why?” If fear had a scent, Annie was sure it was what she smelled near Tricia at the moment.
“Do you think he saw my face?”
“I don’t know. He wasn’t at the doorway for long.” Annie stepped closer to Tricia. “What’s got you so freaked out?”
“I saw him at Bigger Burger on Friday. He came in after those other two men but they didn’t pay any attention to him. At the time, I didn’t think too much of it, but considering what happened . . .”
“Listen, Tricia, you should go to the police. You could be the key to solving these murders.”
Her face lost all color at those words. “I don’t want to be involved. My boss was right.” She inched toward the door. “I don’t know why I didn’t listen to him. ‘Don’t say anything,’ he told me. ‘Don’t get involved,’ he insisted. Did I listen?” She looked into Annie’s eyes with fear. “No. And now that guy saw me here. What if he comes after me next?”
Annie held Tricia’s arm and gave it a little shake. “Why do you think that?”
“He got his coffee and sat at a corner table with his back to those two guys. I thought he was reading something on his phone when I brought his burger, but he was watching them. He must have had his camera on reverse. I could see the image of both men clearly on his phone.”
“Did he talk to them?”
Tricia shook her head. “I don’t think so. I thought it was all strange but it’s not my job to monitor what customers are doing. It’s only after they turned up dead that I thought it might mean something. And that guy is here where you told me one of the guys was murdered. It can’t all be a coincidence.”
By now, Annie could feel Tricia trembling under her hand. “What else happened?”
“Nothing,” she mumbled and looked away from Annie.
“You came here to tell me something and that was before you knew Alex would be here. Tell me, Tricia.”
She hesitated but it was obvious she wanted to get something off her conscience. “The guy with the mustache?”
“The chef?”
“I don’t know. The other one called him Marcel.” Her voice was so soft Annie had to move within inches of Tricia’s mouth. “He came to the counter and asked for a cappuccino which is why I remember the order. We only serve regular coffee, nothing fancy. He wasn’t too happy about that but he said ‘Fine.’ Then he took a container out of his pocket—some kind of prescription bottle—and dumped something into the coffee. He had moved off to the side but I saw it out of the corner of my eye. Do you think it could be important?”
“Why?” Annie didn’t see anything wrong. If Chef Marcel was taking a prescription that didn’t taste good, adding it to his drink made sense.
Tricia paused. “Because he gave the coffee to the other guy. I heard him say it was hot so save it for later. He also said not to follow him right away, or something like that.”
What did Chef Marcel dump in the coffee? If it was a prescription, where was the bottle?
“I’ve got to go. Please don’t tell anyone you got this information from me. I’ve got kids. I need my job. Don’t tell the police I talked to you.” Tricia’s eyes pleaded with Annie to protect her before she pulled away from her grasp and darted out the door.
Annie stood and looked at the closed door. What did it all mean? Did the chef kill Phil to get out from under something? Blackmail? Was he going to ruin the chef’s profitable pastry workshops and soon-to-be-released cookbook? Or was it all just a scam and he could feel it all closing in on him? Too many questions swirled in Annie’s head.
The door opened, almost knocking into Annie.
“Are you okay?” Roxy rushed inside to find Buddy. Jason hung up his coat. “I saw Tricia get into her car as I pulled in. What happened?”
“She’s about as jumpy as anyone I’ve ever seen.” Annie took a quick check behind her to be sure they were alone. “She saw Alex at Bigger Burger on Friday. He was watching Phil and Chef Marcel.”
“He could have just been doing his job, Annie; you know, keeping an eye on the chef to make sure he was safe.”
“Maybe. But be careful around him just in case. The whole thing really unnerved Tricia. Plus—”
“There’s more?”
“Tricia saw Chef Marcel dump something into a coffee he bought for Phil. She said it was from a prescription bottle.”
“You think the chef poisoned Phil?”
Annie nodded.
“You have to tell Detective Crank this information.”
“I know, but poor Tricia is afraid she’ll lose her job if her boss finds out she talked to me. Coming here was risky enough for her and she refuses to talk to the police. I don’t want her to get in trouble.”
“Maybe Alex saw it all, too. Get him to tell the police.”
“I’ll think about it. But I’d better get back in the kitchen to help Leona with the rest of her demonstration.”
“I’ll take the dogs out and hang out in the living room when I come back in. Send all the guests my way if you want.” Jason put his coat back on and called the two dogs. They barreled toward the door, almost sliding into it before Jason got it open. Roxy ran in circles chasing her own tail and Buddy barked encouragement. Finally, the door opened and Jason followed the two rambunctious dogs outside.
Annie took a deep breath before she entered the kitchen.
Alex was the first to look up from his beautifully frosted cake after he plopped a fresh cherry on top.
Annie couldn’t quite read his expression. Was it simply curiosity or something more sinister?
22
The top layer of Connie’s cake
slid off the bottom and landed on its edge. “Oh dear. I just can’t get the hang of this.” She pushed the layer back into place, licked the chocolate ganache frosting off her fingers, and watched as it slid off the other side in slow motion.
Annie went to the rescue after seeing Leona’s look of desperation. Patience with someone who showed no baking talent was not Leona’s forte.
“I think you have too much filling between the layers. Here, let’s scrape some off.” Annie handed Connie a blunt knife.
Connie did what Annie suggested. Then she licked the knife. “This is delicious. Even if I can’t get it too look as nice as it’s supposed to, it still tastes amazing.” She broke off a chunk of the top layer and ate that, too.
Robin filmed the whole process as she walked around the kitchen, stopping at each work station. She showed more interest in the process than the product. She even took time to focus on the ingredients in their various stages of production.
“What’s this?” Robin pointed to a bowl next to the sink.
Leona turned her head to see what Robin was asking about. “Oh, that’s going in the compost.”
“But what is it?”
“All the cherry pits. I wanted to save all of you from that tedious job so I pitted all the cherries we’re using.”
Robin picked up a pit. “Did you know,” she seemed to be talking more to herself than the others in the room, “that these are harmless if swallowed whole . . . but a few crushed cherry pits could kill someone.”
Annie’s head jerked up, as did Alex’s, but everyone else was too focused on keeping their cake from sliding apart and ending up on the floor to pay much attention to Robin.
“How do you even know that?” Annie asked. Robin’s words made her stomach lurch. It was the second time she had mentioned killing someone with poison.
