Killer Comfort Food (A Farm-to-Fork Mystery Book 5)

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Killer Comfort Food (A Farm-to-Fork Mystery Book 5) Page 2

by Lynn Cahoon


  Angie made the turn into the kitchen, leaving Felicia to handle the front of the house. Her friend was a top-notch pastry chef as well as being amazing at running the front of the house. And she had a heart of gold that seemed to carry the weight of her friends’ burdens. Angie was surprised that Barb hadn’t asked Felicia for the favor, rather than her.

  “Why are you looking like someone stole your milk money?” Estebe stood by the chef table watching her. “Is there something wrong?”

  At Estebe’s question, she felt the gaze of everyone in the kitchen land on her. They’d be worried about the restaurant. About their jobs. About their scheduled hours. Angie needed to put Barb’s issues away and clear the kitchen from any negative energy. There was enough time outside of service to worry about what had happened to Sunny Travis. Angie didn’t need to upset her kitchen family.

  “No worries at all. I’m just thinking about the farm and this soybean plant.” Angie hoped the lie would ease their fears. “I mean, seriously, if someone was going to run me out of my home, why couldn’t it have been for a winery or a bakery? I like bread.”

  A smile creased Estebe’s face, showing the lines already forming. “And you like wine. Do not bring tomorrow’s worries into today. Let them stay in the future.”

  A Nona-ism if she’d ever heard one. “My grandmother used to say something similar. You’re right. I’m putting it away. How is prep going?”

  “Estebe wants to change my appetizer recipe,” Nancy called out. “He thinks every recipe needs a potato element.”

  “It is Idaho,” Matt quipped.

  “I like my bruschetta just the way I designed it. With toasted French bread.” Nancy nodded to Matt’s station. “You have a lot of chopping left to do. I think you should keep your head down and out of this conversation.”

  Smiling, Angie went to the sink and washed her hands. She greeted Hope and Bleak, who were washing pans from the prep work. When she had a clean apron on over her chef coat, she moved back toward Estebe. “What can I help you with?”

  After it started, dinner service moved liked a well-rehearsed dance. This is why I love being a chef. Angie finished wiping a plate and handed it to the waiting server. Felicia stepped into the kitchen. “Who wants to meet the chef tonight?” Angie asked. “Tell me it’s a kid rather than some politician. I love chatting up the kids. They don’t have any secret agenda.”

  “Actually, they wanted to talk to Nancy. It’s a couple, and the man says he knew you from before?” Felicia frowned as she delivered the message. “If you want, I can tell him you’re too busy to leave the kitchen.”

  “No need. I wonder who it is? Probably someone from high school. I graduated from Nampa High. It could be any of the old crew.” Nancy stepped away from grilling. “Matt, cover me for a bit. That steak is just about ready to flip. And I just put on the chops.”

  After Nancy had explained what she was working on, she stepped away from the stove and paused at the doorway, where there was a small mirror hung on the wall. She wiped her face with a towel, then threw it in the laundry bin to the side of the room. “Probably some guy I dumped. I hope he’s not here to make amends.”

  Angie followed her out of the kitchen. “I need to see this. I don’t think I’ve met any of your friends. You’re always so busy working, I don’t get to see you off the clock.”

  “Well, don’t judge me for my high school friends. I didn’t come into my own until college.” Nancy grinned at Angie and then scanned the room. “I don’t see anyone I know…”

  Angie knew exactly when Nancy recognized the guy. And it didn’t seem like it was an old boyfriend. If Angie didn’t know better, she’d think that Nancy was going to bolt out the back door. Angie put a hand on her chef’s arm. “What’s wrong, who is it?”

  Instead of answering, Nancy stepped out in the dining room and walked directly toward the table where a man sat, smiling at her. The woman at the table didn’t look up, not once.

  “Charles, what are you doing here?” Nancy demanded. “I thought you were in Napa Valley now.”

  “I move around a bit. Business, you know.” He stood and leaned over to kiss her on the cheek, but Nancy shuddered and backed away from him.

  “Well, you can just move your way out of this town and out of our lives. There’s no way I’m going to let you see the kids.” Nancy’s eyes were black. Angie stepped up and stood between the two.

  “I’m Nancy’s boss. I’m afraid if you two have problems, you’re going to have to leave. I can’t ruin the mood for my other diners just because you have issues with my chef.” Angie hoped her voice sounded as authoritative as she wanted.

  “Sorry, we haven’t been properly introduced.” He turned to Angie, ignoring Nancy to his left. “Angie Turner, you are lovelier than the photos from your newsletter articles when this place opened.”

  “I’m sorry, you’re still going to have to leave, Mr….” Angie held her hand out toward the doorway. “And don’t worry about the meal, we’ll comp it.”

  “That’s kind of you.” He held his hand out to his dinner companion. “Come, Jane, I feel like we’re not welcome here.”

  “Yes, Charles.” The woman stood, tucking her purse under one arm. She didn’t argue, didn’t mention that she hadn’t eaten much of her meal. She just stood and followed him to the coatrack.

  Angie put a hand on Nancy’s arm. “Go back to the kitchen.”

  Nancy nodded, then shot daggers to the man’s back. “Don’t trust him.”

  “I’m just going to make sure they get out the door. We’ll talk later.” Angie smiled, nodding to the kitchen. “You need to get back before Matt burns something.”

  “He wouldn’t dare.” Nancy’s eyes narrowed, and she started back to the kitchen, only looking back once at the exiting couple.

  Angie stepped over to the hostess stand and watched while the man held out a nice wool coat for his date. He shrugged into his own coat, then nodded to the door. “Go ahead, I’ll be out in a second.”

  Once the woman was outside, he turned to Angie. “There are two sides to every story.”

  “I don’t really care, Mr….”

  He paused and looked at her carefully. “She didn’t tell you who I am, did she? I’m Charles Gowan, Nancy’s ex-husband.”

  Chapter 2

  After service, Nancy rushed out the back door, her coat and bag in hand. Angie watched her leave as she finished sending out the last plate.

  Angie glanced at Estebe. “Do you know what’s going on?”

  “Not a clue, but Nancy is scared. I’ve never seen her frightened before.” He shook his head. “She said she needed to check on the kids, so I told her to leave as soon as she was done with service. I am worried about her.”

  “Me, too.” Angie sent up a wish for safekeeping for Nancy and her family as the crew went about the business of cleaning up after the last service of the week.

  Angie was still thinking about Nancy when she arrived home that night. Dom sat at the kitchen door, waiting for her to set her bag on the table. Then he danced around until Angie acknowledged him. She locked the door, throwing the dead bolt as well, then sat on one of the kitchen chairs and leaned down to give Dom a big hug. “It was crazy at the restaurant tonight, big guy. Barb’s looking for her daughter and wants me to help. Then Nancy’s ex-husband came by and upset her. Lots of emotion flying around tonight.”

  Dom stared at her with his big brown eyes. He woofed, then licked her arm. Angie translated that to, I’m glad your home, let’s cuddle on the couch and eat popcorn. Or he could be saying that she worked too hard and took on too many problems from other people. Either interpretation would be spot-on, but she thought the scenario with the popcorn was probably more her dog’s style.

  She was worn to the bone but too wound up to sleep yet, so she followed Dom’s unspoken suggestion, pouring a glass of wine to
go with it. Then they watched reruns on the cooking channel until her eyelids started drooping. She’d solve mysteries tomorrow when she could actually think.

  Sunday morning, she smelt the coffee and some sort of cinnamon bread baking before she even got out of bed. Dom had already left to join the visitor in the kitchen. Felicia was probably working on some ideas for the next cooking class. She could entertain herself for a bit. So Angie showered and got ready for the day before going downstairs.

  Felicia looked up from her laptop when Angie came into the kitchen. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I take it you and Dom had a late night watching television.”

  “What gave me away?” Angie poured herself a cup of coffee and sat at the table.

  “The two bags of microwaved popcorn in the trash. Typically, you only need one to wind down.” Felicia turned the laptop toward Angie and pointed to the screen. “This is Nancy’s ex-husband, Charles Gowan. From his website and his own press, he’s a hotshot developer in northern California. She’s been working three jobs just to get by and get out of the debt he left her with, and he lives in a mansion on top of a vineyard. Not sure if he owns the vineyard, too, or if it’s just a great photo op.”

  “What a jerk.” Angie sipped her coffee. “Did you know he was rich?”

  “No. I figured he was some deadbeat. I wonder why Nancy’s attorney didn’t go after him.” Felicia sighed. “I can’t believe someone would be that vindictive.”

  “Maybe there were other reasons Nancy didn’t want him in her life.” Angie reached down to rub Dom’s ears. “I should go feed Mabel and Precious.”

  “Already done.” Felicia turned the laptop back and started working again.

  “Thanks, but did you make sure their water wasn’t frozen over?” Angie stood and glanced out the window. Mabel, the lone black and white hen from Nona’s flock, was digging at something in the garden.

  “No, because I didn’t feed them. Ian was here when I arrived. He said to tell you good morning when you got up and that he was going to lunch with the family after church. You could meet them at the café in Meridian at twelve thirty if you wanted.” Felicia didn’t even look up from the laptop. “You have that boy well trained.”

  “I don’t have him trained,” Angie protested. “He just knows I work late nights when the restaurant is open. He stops in to feed them because he worries about the animals.”

  “Okay. But Estebe wouldn’t do that for me if I wanted to sleep in.” Felicia grinned. “Which is one of the reasons I’m leaning on getting a cat. They’re very independent. Not like a pet goat.”

  “I didn’t set out to have a pet goat,” Angie protested, but she saw the humor in her friend’s eyes. “And you might want to hold off on the cat until we know that I’m not moving into the apartment with Dom, Precious, and Mabel.”

  “You’re not losing the farm. That lawyer you hired is going to figure out something.” Felicia stood and crossed the kitchen to stand next to her at the sink. “No worrying. Not yet. Save your worry for tomorrow.”

  Angie stared out the window for a few minutes, hearing the words echo in her head. First Estebe, now Felicia had used a version of one of Nona’s favorite sayings to comfort Angie. It had to be a sign. Wherever the words were coming from, they were comforting.

  The bell went off on the oven. “Cinnamon rolls are done. These are a make-the-night-before version I wanted to teach in our next class.” Felicia moved over to the oven and opened it. The smell of fresh baked rolls and sweet cinnamon and sugar filled the room.

  Dom lifted his head from his bed, took a big sniff, then Angie could have sworn he smiled as he lay back down to go to sleep. Her dog loved the kitchen and the food smells that surrounded him as he slept. One more reason she couldn’t sell. This was Dom’s home as well as hers. She needed to protect it. She turned her attention back to Felicia, who was dishing up the cinnamon rolls.

  “I hope the weather is going to be fairly reasonable today. After this breakfast, I’m going to need to take Dom for a hike.” She paused at the fridge. “You want some orange juice, too?”

  “Of course, and there’s bacon in the microwave. It should still be warm.” Felicia set the plates on the table and grabbed silverware. “I was going to make a baked apple salad, too, but I got lost in the research on Nancy’s husband.”

  As they sat and ate, a thought came to Angie. “Did the research you found say why he was in Idaho? I would think he’d be too busy with his new California life to mess with anything here.”

  “Could be a new upscale development going in over outside of Eagle. I heard they’re expanding State Street coming out of Boise to eight lanes to accommodate the traffic into downtown.” Felicia glanced at the laptop. “Do you want me to keep looking?”

  “It can wait until after brunch. I really wanted to talk about next month’s class. Do we have everything planned out?” Angie bit into the crunchy, thick bacon and almost groaned. This was why she bought everything local. The pork was from a processing plant between here and the river, and the bacon they made was thick and meaty. She didn’t understand how anyone used the paper-thin stuff from the grocery store.

  “Earth to Angie, did you hear me?”

  “I was lost in the taste. Sorry. Let me refocus right after I finish this slice.” Angie ate the last bite of bacon, then smiled at her friend. “Go ahead, I’m listening.”

  “You and your food. I swear, you love eating more than anyone I’ve ever met.” Felicia laughed but then started listing off the recipes that they would be teaching the next week. Angie would be joining her in this class to give the group two different perspectives on food preparations. Felicia had gotten a lot of her yoga class members to sign up for multiple classes. They were stay-at-home moms with more time and money than activities.

  After they’d approved the class and decided who would teach what recipe, Angie made some notes in her planner. Then she refilled the coffee cups. Sitting down at the table, she pulled out the picture of Sunny. “Do you know her? Is she in your class?”

  Felicia’s eyes widened. “This is Barb’s daughter? Of course I know her. And you do, too. Well, you know her husband.”

  “I do?” The picture had only shown Sunny’s face to the front. Her groom had been turned to the side when they walked down the stairs of the cathedral. He had dark hair, but she couldn’t see his eyes. “How do I know her husband?”

  “That’s Susan and Jon Ansley. You met him on the hiking trails—he’s the one who’s been handling the soybean plant development legal pre-work. Didn’t he tell you that his wife had died?” Felicia started keying on the laptop, looking for something. She turned around the screen again when she found what she’d been looking for. An article from the Statesman. “Local wife goes missing. Husband is offering a large reward for her whereabouts.”

  “That was her? I mean, I think he said his wife had died.” As Angie thought about it, maybe he hadn’t. He’d said the dog was his wife’s, and she couldn’t remember the rest. She’d been so mad that Ansley was trying to force her out of her home, she hadn’t thought about what he’d said for a while. “I don’t remember exactly.”

  “You should call your attorney. If Jon is under suspicion of killing his wife, I can’t see how he’d be able to broker this deal.”

  “Maybe she did just leave.” Angie spun her phone on the table. “You want to go into town with me tomorrow?”

  “Why?”

  “I’m going to go talk to Jon Ansley and ask him about his wife.” Angie picked up her phone, scrolling through the emails. When she found the last one from the law firm, she blew up the address. “His office is in one of those new buildings on Overland by the theaters. Most of the established offices have places downtown to be closer to the Statehouse.”

  “Better for us. Traffic downtown is a nightmare.” Felicia picked up her plate and rinsed it in the sink. “You want me to
do the dishes before I leave?”

  “No, I’ll mess with them when I get back from running with Dom. I’ll call when I’m heading into town tomorrow. Do you want me to pick you up at the restaurant?” Angie glanced around the kitchen, making sure everything was put up and out of Dom’s reach.

  “Sounds good. I’m leaving to go over to Estebe’s soon. He’s making me a late lunch.”

  Angie glanced at her friend’s yoga pants and BSU sweatshirt. “Have fun.”

  “Don’t look at me that way. I’m stopping at the apartment to change into jeans. They will be warmer than these sweats.” She waved and then leaned down to kiss Dom.

  “I wasn’t saying anything,” Angie protested as Felicia walked outside.

  “Whatever.” Felicia held her hand up in a wave and then closed the door.

  “I think our friend is in love,” Angie said as she and Dom sat alone in the kitchen.

  He woofed his answer, then stared at his leash.

  “I get the point. Let me just run up and change into warmer clothes.” She ruffled Dom’s fur and ran up the stairs. Her life was good. At least for the time being. And that was all she could think about today.

  * * * *

  The next morning, when Angie got ready to leave, Dom sat in front of the door. She’d taken Felicia’s advice and had changed into jeans and a sweater. Dom woofed when she came down and turned to stare at his leash.

  “Sorry, guy, I’m heading into town for a bit. You stay here and guard the castle.” She gave him a hug and watched as he went back to his doggie bed and lay down, his sad brown eyes staring holes into her.

  She grabbed her tote and her keys. “Not going to work, buddy.”

  When she locked the door, she heard the short whine of protest. She felt bad, but she didn’t want to leave him in the car, and usually law offices didn’t have pet-friendly policies. As she drove into River Vista, she thought about what she wanted to ask Jon and how she could keep it professional. He already knew she didn’t like him after a kind of heated exchange at the first community meeting. Unfortunately, she was the only voice of dissent against the moneymaking plant. Building the plant meant jobs, not just in the building phase, but later, in running the plant. Most of the locals loved the idea, so her protests had been a lone cry in the wilderness. Until she’d hired an attorney to handle amplifying her voice.

 

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