by Lyndsey Cole
Robin flicked her free hand as if to indicate she thought Annie’s question was about as dumb as could be. “Research, of course,” she replied with an eye roll that so many young adults had perfected in their teenage years. “I’ve made a list of ways a person could kill someone for my novel. You know, research is important to get the little details correct.”
Annie was sure she heard an almost soundless duh follow her answer. And she did agree with Robin about research getting the details correct, but did she need the details for her novel or for a real-life murder? Annie wondered. What could Robin’s motive be if she was involved with Phil’s or Chef Marcel’s murders? Unless she wanted to experience her murder method for a more accurate description. That was just too gruesome to be a possibility.
Robin continued her rounds through the kitchen, stopping next at George’s creation. “Not bad for a beginner.”
George had managed to make a passable cake. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. “This is harder than it looks.” He looked at Sarah’s cake and frowned. “You aren’t being careful enough,” he scolded her.
Sarah’s cake was all in one piece, unlike Connie’s, but one side was much higher than the other. And she had the whole top covered with cherries instead of just a few for decoration.
The cake in front of Alex mirrored Leona’s the closest—symmetrical, smooth ganache, and a few cherries artfully placed on top. “What do you think?” he asked Annie when he caught her eye.
She had no choice but to join him at his spot. “I’d say you’ve done some baking in a past life. Am I correct?”
Alex moved close to Annie. “You’re very observant.” He lowered his voice so only Annie could hear. “What did the waitress come here for?”
Annie’s skin crawled at the question. How would she keep Tricia safe? “What were you doing at Bigger Burger?” A question for a question was safer than providing an answer to his curiosity.
Alex nodded his head toward the door. Annie followed him out of the kitchen.
“It could be dangerous for her to come here but I don’t think anyone saw her but me,” Alex said as soon as they were alone.
“What do you mean?”
Alex sighed. “I’m worried that the killer might have seen her talking to you, too.”
Annie studied his face. Alex was serious. He didn’t look away from Annie’s stare. He didn’t fidget. Could she trust him?
“Why did she come here?” he asked again.
Annie shrugged and looked away. “I heard that the chef and Phil were at Bigger Burger together on Friday. I asked her if she remembered anything about them.”
“Did she?”
“She remembered seeing you, Alex, and when she saw you here, she bolted.” That wasn’t exactly true but it was all Annie was willing to share for now.
Alex reached out and held Annie’s arm. She flinched. He let go. “Sorry. I’m not the enemy. She served the chef a coffee before he left. A coffee that he left for Phil. Did she say anything about that?”
Annie nodded.
Alex crunched his mouth to one side and looked away. “I bet she saw something that I suspected. The chef dumped something in that coffee, didn’t he?”
Jason clomped inside with the dogs. “All done with Leona’s lesson?” He raised his eyebrows as he directed his question at Annie and moved next to her. He put his arm around her shoulders protectively. Annie shuffled closer to his side, relishing the safe embrace.
Alex continued. “I’ll tell you what I think since that might be the only way you’ll trust me. I’ve been doing some research, trying to fill in the gaps between what I know and what I suspect. What I’ve come up with is this: according to what the chef told me, he had a problem with someone; he and his assistant, which could be Phil, weren’t getting along; Chef Marcel put something in Phil’s coffee; Phil died after leaving Bigger Burger and before he arrived here for the workshop; the chef was murdered here before his workshop even started.”
“You aren’t telling me anything I didn’t already know.” Annie still refused to trust Alex.
“Right. Robin’s comments got me thinking about something that the chef had access to. Something he might have used to poison Phil. What ingredient did the chef bring here for his pastry projects?”
“I haven’t looked in his boxes, that’s Leona’s territory.”
“Name one item you know he brought.”
Annie put her finger on her chin and thought about what was in Leona’s kitchen that Leona definitely didn’t have before the weekend. Then, Robin’s words made a new connection. “Leona chose her cherry buried cake recipe because she said the chef brought lots of cherries.”
Alex smiled. “Exactly.”
“Exactly what?” This conversation was going nowhere as far as she was concerned.
“You just heard what Robin said.” Alex looked first at Annie, then at Jason. “If the pits are ground into a powder, it only takes a small amount to kill someone.”
Both Annie and Jason stared at each other before looking back at Alex in disbelief. “The chef dumped ground cherry pits into Phil’s coffee?” Annie asked.
“I think so but I don’t have proof. Could you find out the cause of death from the police?”
“I doubt it. They might not even have that kind of information back from the lab yet.”
“But Phil was poisoned, right?”
“According to the rumors . . . which have a way of being quite accurate at times.”
“Okay. I think Tricia witnessed the chef putting some type of poison into Phil’s coffee.” Alex pulled his phone from his pocket. “Watch this.” He tapped the screen and a video played of the chef standing at the counter with Tricia. She handed him a coffee and he turned away from Alex’s view. His hand reached into his pants pocket and he pulled out a pill bottle but the rest wasn’t visible to the camera. “Tricia was at a different angle and she saw what I couldn’t see.”
“If the chef killed Phil, Tricia shouldn’t be in any danger since the chef is dead now too. But who killed him?”
Alex frowned. “I don’t know. But I wouldn’t jump to the conclusion that Tricia is safe.”
A list of all the people, besides herself and Leona, that were at the Blackbird when the chef was murdered ran through Annie’s brain—George, Sarah, Robin, Jared, Connie, Alex.
Who murdered the chef? And why?
The why of Chef Marcel’s murder ate at Annie.
Was Alex really working for the chef?
Was Robin really writing a novel?
Did one of the others have a history with the chef who might like to see him dead?
As she stood in the entryway of the Blackbird with Jason and Alex, the unknowns of this murder gave her an uneasy pause. With the murderer still in her midst, everyone had to be extra vigilant.
23
Jason broke the silence. “Any chance that Leona has a fresh pot of coffee? I could use some to warm me up.” He rubbed his hands together.
Annie jerked herself out of her own thoughts, blinked, and forced herself back to the present situation. “I’ll make some. The cherry buried cake lesson should be wrapped up and Leona will want everyone out of the kitchen so she can get organized for dinner.”
Jason turned to Alex and draped his arm over the man’s shoulder as if they were best buddies. “That sounds good to me, how about you?”
Annie smiled at Jason’s clever maneuver as he engaged Alex and moved him toward the living room.
“Ask Leona if she can spare a piece of cake, too,” Jason said. “I promise it won’t ruin my appetite for dinner.”
After the late lunch they’d had at Bigger Burger, Annie knew Jason couldn’t have much of an appetite but coffee and sweets was a great distraction. Alex had no choice but to stay with Jason while she got the coffee.
The kitchen was a disaster with chocolate ganache dripped on every surface, cherries squished on the floor, and pieces of chocolate cake lying next to every shape of
finished project, but Leona had a smile from ear to ear. “Everyone loved the project. It was a bigger success than I could have imagined. They all want one more either tonight after dinner or tomorrow morning. What do you think?”
As Annie surveyed the mess, she was amazed that Leona wasn’t tearing her hair out but, on the other hand, a mess indicated that people were busy. “How about tomorrow? This will take some time to get cleaned up and you have to get dinner for everyone. I think we should work on getting everyone fed and relaxed tonight so maybe we can uncover more information about each guest.”
“That’s a good idea. I’ll get started with the grilled ham, cheese, and pineapple paninis for dinner if you can tackle the project disarray. Any suggestions for tomorrow’s project?” Leona placed her big cast iron griddle across two stove burners.
“I’ll think about it but first I have to make coffee and bring some cake out to the living room.” Annie made quick work of measuring the coffee and water. As the rich, dark liquid dripped through the machine, she cut a few slices of cake. “I’ll be right back.”
The living room was cozy with Jason and Alex chatting near the fireplace; Connie, with Buddy on her lap, and Sarah sat together on the couch; George gazed at nothing from the chair in the corner; and Robin had her eyes glued to her phone, of course. Roxy was curled up on an empty chair and Annie spotted Trouble’s tail twitching from under the same chair.
“Here’s coffee and cake. Leona and I are getting dinner ready,” she announced, even though no one seemed to pay her any attention. Good.
Back in the kitchen, Annie pulled a couple of cotton dish towels from the drawer, got one wet, and carried them, along with a spray bottle, to the first work station. “Where do you want me to put these finished projects?”
“Just label them and that will be dessert tonight.” Leona opened the fridge and started pulling her ingredients out.
Annie decided to tackle the messiest work place first. “There’s no cake here, just a huge mess.”
Leona chuckled. “Without turning around I can tell you’re at Connie’s spot. She kept nibbling on her cake until it was gone. I guess she thought if she took small enough bites, no one would notice that she ate the whole darn thing. I’ll give her one of mine if she still has room for more.”
“Connie? Room for dessert?” Annie felt her forehead wrinkle. “She loves her sweets. I don’t think it’s a question of having any room. If a delicious dessert is offered, she’ll be the first to attack it whole heartedly.”
The two women focused on their tasks at hand and made quick work of transforming the kitchen back to Leona’s sparkling space.
“So,” Annie said, interrupting the comfortable silence, “who do you think killed the chef?”
Leona paused, turned toward Annie, and leaned against the counter next to her big stove. “You know, I’ve been keeping my eye on Robin and I’d love to see all the videos on her phone. There could be a clue we’ve overlooked. And that George is a strange one. He seemed to have it in for the chef from the minute he got here. Has Alex discovered anything?”
“Hmmm. You’re kind of hung up on Alex. I’m not ready to give him a pass yet. Especially not after Tricia, the waitress from Bigger Burger, freaked out when she saw him here.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah. Alex was at Bigger Burger when the chef and Phil were having some sort of argument.”
Leona flicked her wrist dismissively. “That doesn’t prove anything, Annie. Alex told you that he’s a private investigator working for the chef. Why would he kill him?”
Annie shrugged. “All I’m saying is he was here, he had the opportunity, and we don’t know if everything he’s told us is true.”
The kitchen’s back door opened and the sound of boots stomping on the mat made Annie and Leona look toward that entryway.
“Hello?” Leona called.
“Oh good, you’re here. Is Annie here, too?” Camilla’s voice filled the kitchen, along with the sound of her unzipping her coat, something heavy hitting the floor, mumbling, and finally more footsteps.
“I’m here, too. Come on in. We’re just cleaning up and getting dinner ready for the guests.”
Camilla walked in, a bright green silk scarf, which matched the streak in her hair, was wrapped around her neck. “I’ve come to apologize for rushing out the other night. I don’t know what got into me but Tyler said nothing should change my relationship with you guys just because he and I are dating.” She helped herself to a bite-size piece of cake at one of the work areas. “Yum.” She licked her finger. “That was delicious.”
“A leftover from Leona’s workshop for the guests. With the chef dead and Tyler telling everyone to stick around town, it made sense to keep them busy baking rather than moping around like a bunch of kids waiting to be entertained.”
“Yeah,” Leona added. “The chef brought so many ingredients, it just made sense to set up some baking demonstrations for a distraction and to kill some time.” She grimaced. “Hmmm, maybe not the best choice of words. Anyway, they all paid for the whole weekend, except Alex, but he has offered to reimburse me for the room. All in all, I think it’s working out pretty well, right Annie?”
“Seems to be.” Annie was suspicious that the distraction Leona referred to was more for her own benefit than her guests’, but she could tell herself whatever she wanted. “How’s everything in town, Camilla? I suppose the rumor mill is working overtime.”
Camilla stuck out her bottom lip and blew a puff of air to get a few strands of hair out of her eyes. “That’s an understatement. Everyone suddenly has a need to come into the Velvet Box thinking I know something. Apparently, along with the two murders, me dating Tyler is another big topic of conversation around town.”
“Do they buy something or just get their fingerprints all over your glass cases?” Leona asked.
“Oh, sales are soaring. As a matter of fact, when three of your guests came in on Saturday morning, I had one of my best sales ever. That older woman must be loaded.”
“Connie?” Annie asked. “Short gray hair, friendly, always talking?”
“That’s the one. “She oohed and aahed over everything and bought one of my most expensive necklaces. The other woman bought some earrings after Connie hounded her to get something for herself even though she made it clear that she didn’t want her husband to find out she’d spent any money.”
Annie rolled her eyes. “That must have been Sarah. Her husband gave her this weekend at the Blackbird for a present but it wasn’t what she wanted. Maybe that’s why Connie convinced her to treat herself.” Annie moved the empty plate to the sink and gave the counter one last swipe with her cleaning cloth. “What about the other person? Robin. She’s a local and needed a ride back from the Black Cat Café after her boyfriend ditched her.”
“Oh yeah. I thought I recognized her. She’s been in with her mom a few times. She always wants to buy just one earring, which drives me mad, but I grin and humor her. What does she think I do with the other one?” Camilla shook her head. “Maybe I’ll set up a case for all the lonely single earrings,” she said more to herself. “But I haven’t told you the interesting part yet.”
Camilla looked at Annie and Leona with a grin that indicated she’d just discovered a loose diamond in her pocket. A big one. “Well, Sarah spent a lot of time whispering to Connie about her husband.”
Annie held her finger over her lips for Camilla to stop talking. She cracked open the door to the dining room and stuck her head out before she turned around to face Camilla. “Coast is clear, go ahead.”
“Of course, I was right there showing Connie piece after piece of jewelry while Sarah got all her anxiety out. I was an invisible nobody to her while she griped. Finally, she admitted that she was worried about what was in her husband’s suitcase.”
Both Annie and Leona moved closer to Camilla. Camilla leaned on the kitchen island toward them with a glint in her eyes.
“What did Sarah say was insid
e?” Annie’s heart raced, hoping this could be a clue to solving the chef’s murder.
“Well,” Camilla said slowly, obviously enjoying all the attention directed her way and wanting to drag out the best details the longest. She lowered her voice to barely above the faintest whisper. “Sarah thinks her husband could be the murderer.”
Leona’s eyes bugged out.
Annie gasped. “Did she say why?”
“After they went upstairs together before dinner on Friday night, what’s his name?”
“George.”
“Yeah, George was fuming about wanting a refund. Sarah got out the paperwork and showed him where it said no refunds, but he said he’d figure out something. Then he left their room but Sarah told Connie that she didn’t know where he went or what he did. At the time, she was glad for a break from his endless ranting about Chef Marcel and how he suspected he was nothing more than a charlatan with a phony accent, a big belly, and a mustache.” Camilla straightened. She adjusted the scarf, pulling it so it was looser on her neck. “She doesn’t even want to stay in the same room with George anymore but she doesn’t know what to do. Connie said she could share her room if it made her feel any safer.”
“That is interesting. If George left their room, he could have slipped into the chef’s room and confronted him about a refund. Maybe that’s who Alex heard going into the chef’s room Friday night,” Annie said.
“There’s more,” Camilla continued. “George wouldn’t let Sarah add anything to his suitcase. He packed his stuff and locked it, so she thinks he hid something inside that he didn’t want her to find.”
“If it had anything to do with the chef, Detective Crank must have found it when she intercepted George’s attempt to skedaddle Friday night.” Annie was thinking out loud. “This certainly puts a new light on Friday night’s events.” Annie turned back toward Camilla. “Did you tell Tyler all this?”
Camilla nodded. “Of course. It seemed important. And he didn’t tell me to keep it secret,” she quickly added. “Listen, I can’t stay any longer. I’m meeting Tyler for dinner but I wanted to apologize and tell you all that stuff. I’ll let myself out so you can get back to your dinner preparation.”
