by Ava Mallory
Calvin sighed heavily as he walked into the kitchen. “You don't have a cook? What happened to Alice?”
“She and I parted ways. It's fine. I'll have to put my culinary school training to good use. My parents would be so proud.” Chip said.
“I can help,” I volunteered, much to my daughter's dismay.
Chip and Calvin turned to look at me. One had a wide smile on his face. The other, had his eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed.
“That's just great! What did you do to Alice? You know, I'll never hear the end of it when I get home, don't you? Geez, I recommended her, remember? She's my wife's cousin. I mean, they are close, so this is going to fall on me.” Calvin shook his head.
“She'll be fine. She was duly compensated. We just weren't seeing eye to eye on some things and I had to remind her that I was in charge, not her.” Chip answered.
Calvin pulled a seat out from the table. “You can't do that, can you, Chip? You can't have your guests doing the cooking. That's ridiculous.” He looked at me, seated next to him. “No offense, but I just don't think it's a good idea. I'm sure you're a good cook, but this just doesn't seem right.”
I understood his trepidation. I felt the same way. I thought for sure that someone would come in and shut the place down, but until that happened, I'd give it a shot and, hopefully, use the opportunity to do some digging and find out what was really happening here. Even if Flynn was dead, that doesn't explain what or who I saw in his office. I don't know why it bothered me so much. It wasn't my concern, but at the same time, I felt like I could do something to make sense of it all, if not for Chip, but for myself.
“Mercy is a great cook!” Ruby exclaimed to my surprise. I thought she was against me volunteering to take over the kitchen. She winked in my direction. “She just loves catering to others and she'll bend over backwards to make sure everyone is satisfied. She's just that kind of person.”
I shot her a sideways glance across the table. “Your sarcasm is showing,” I said. Paul, Annie, and Jessica ended their silence and started laughing.
“Don't encourage her,” Ruby groaned.
“So, it's settled then,” Chip said, putting his hands together. “If you really want to help, I'd love to have you.”
And, it was official. In the span of twenty-four hours I went from an exhausted nurse, just anxious for some time off to one of a few witnesses to a strange death – if that's what it was – and, now, a cook at The Felon House Bed and Breakfast. Yep, I was just making friends and taking numbers all over the place.
“What about health codes?” Calvin protested.
I spoke up, using the information that Aldo and his creepy wife, Thalia, had given me. “Aldo said he'd have no problem with me stepping in temporarily.”
“Just what am I supposed to tell my wife and Alice, for that matter?” Calvin's face reddened with frustration.
Chip huffed. “You don't have to tell them anything. What's done is done and like Ms. Mares said, she's already been approved for duty. He nodded at me approvingly.
Jessica, Paul, and Annie watched in stunned silence. I could only imagine what they were thinking. Their dream vacations hadn't lived up to expectation and, now, a slightly irritated, grumpy nurse was going to be preparing their meals for the remainder of their stay.
“Shall we get you started?” Chip asked me, ignoring Calvin's moaning and groaning. “I'll show you around the kitchen and get you familiar with where things are before our next guest arrives.”
“Next guess?” I asked. He was seriously opening the doors to more guests right now?
He smiled, looking over his shoulder at the others. “A young man phoned me earlier about needing a room in a hurry. I guess his vacation plans fell through, so I offered him a room here. I believe he's a local, but I'm not quite sure yet and it doesn't really matter.”
Open the floodgates, why don't you? I was all for keeping the business open, but that was just for my own benefit, so I could do some snooping... I mean, looking around, not to invite other people to his controlled chaos. That didn't sound like a good idea at all.
The swinging kitchen doors swung open behind us as he showed me where all of the kitchen utensils and cookware were. I tried to pay attention long enough to actually learn something, but I couldn't focus. The kitchen was like something out of a magazine, complete with a Viking oven and top of the line French door refrigerator with a built in control panel on the front face. This place was drool worthy for someone like me, who longed for a gourmet kitchen.
Chip noticed the tears that were brimming my eyes and said, “We just had the kitchen redone last year. This is a far cry from what the kitchen used to look like. Do you like it? Do you think you could work in here for a few days?”
I hoped his question was rhetorical, because there was no way that my panting was going to allow me to utter a word just yet. Marble counter tops. A butcher block island that was bigger than my kitchen table. This place was heavenly and, had someone not died just a few feet from where I stood, I'd consider moving in and spending the rest of my days on Earth, cooking in this grand kitchen.
“Well, Alice was pretty organized, so I'm sure she has detailed sketches of what she was planning to prepare this weekend. Let me see if I can find them for you and then we'll see what we could do to tweak it a little to accommodate our new guest and get something prepared for visitors later this evening.” Chip said as he looked through a drawer.
“More visitors,” I asked. “Tonight?”
He nodded. “Yes, we hold tours every other night. I guess you could call them ghost hunting tours, but I like to think that they're more than that. They're more like a historical tour. This house has been standing here – more or less – for well over one hundred years. I guess I should probably tell you what the locals say about this house. I can't confirm it, but they say that our house is haunted.”
Tell me he doesn't really believe that nonsense too.
I asked, “Why do they say that? I'm sorry, but I don't believe in ghosts... Well, let's just say that I don't want to believe in ghosts. I prefer science based facts.”
He snickered. “You're a nurse. That's kind of your job, isn't it? My mom was a nurse. Anyway, I'm not one to say that a place is or isn't haunted. I can say that I've never experienced anything and, if one day I ever do, I'll decide then.” He paused, smirking to himself. “I got to be honest with you – the whole reason we bought this place was because we got a good deal from Flynn's family. This was their original homestead. At first, we thought we'd buy it and flip it, but then, we started hearing rumblings. I mean, I'd heard them before over the years, but I didn't put much stock in the stories. It was Flynn's idea to run with that idea. Everyone already believed it, so we thought why not make something out of it. Flynn had these lofty ideas. Sometimes, it was hard to keep up with him and all the thoughts going through his head, but his heart was in the right place.”
I could hear his sorrow as he spoke. I felt bad for him and for believing that Flynn was still alive and all of this was some kind of joke or a skit. It was now obvious to me that Flynn had died.
“Do they know how he died?” I asked.
Chip swallowed hard. “I haven't heard anything yet. I'm sure they'll contact his family before they contact me. All I know is that my friend is gone and I have to do whatever is necessary to keep his dream alive.”
I understood that completely. In my line of work, I saw plenty of people whose lives were paused because of any injury or illness and all that they'd talk about was what they hadn't done. If I were in the same situation as Chip, I can't say that I wouldn't do the same thing. If it was Ruby's dream, I'd move heaven and Earth to get it done.
“Thank you for volunteering to do this. I do appreciate it. Just between me and you, I didn't know what I was going to do. It meant that I was going to have to wake up in the middle of the night to prepare meals and stay up late every single night to attend to all the work I'd be too tired to do during t
he day.” Chip said.
Funny how seeing someone else with problems bigger than yours – real problems – put your life into perspective. What was I so busy bellyaching about? My life was good. I made a decent living. I owned my own home. I had good friends and family, so what was I complaining about?
“You okay? You seem like you're lost in your own world over there.” Chip looked at me with questioning eyes.
I smiled. “I'm fine. Sorry. I was just thinking about how strong and brave you are to want to continue on and honor your friend. I'm happy to help. Really, I am. At the very least, it will get me out of any more crazy excursions and side trips with Diana and Ruby.
“They have you taking in the sights, do they? Well, we sure do have a good splattering of them, don't we? What fun things have you done?” Chip asked, laughing.
“Ghost hunting, but I don't suppose that's a surprise to you. We didn't get to do any hunting though, because thankfully, my car died as soon as we arrived. So, you see, cooking for you will keep me occupied and help me relax. Cooking is like my therapy.” I said.
Chip's cell phone rang, interrupting our conversation. “Excuse me,” he said as he walked out of the kitchen.
I took the opportunity to familiarize myself with my dream stove while he stepped away. After a couple of minutes, I heard footsteps behind me.
“That was quick,” I said, looking over my shoulder.
“What are you doing in my kitchen?” Alice stood behind me, staring at me with cold eyes.
“Oh, hi, I didn't hear you walk in,” I said, feeling like I got caught red-handed with my hand in the cookie jar. “I thought you didn't work here anymore?”
Her eyes hardened even more. I figured her to be just a few years older than me, but she was a little broader and at least four inches taller than me. By the looks of it, I'd say she was contemplating whether or not she could make mincemeat out of me. Standing between a woman and her kitchen was never a good idea. I bet that she'd had a hand in designing it. I'd be burned too, if someone commandeered my kitchen or anything of mine, for that matter.
She placed her bag on the counter top and started rifling through drawers, removing kitchenware and utensils. What could I say? They were probably hers.
After a few uncomfortable minutes of me watching her go back and forth, filling her bag and her pockets with various kitchen items, she stopped in front of me and said in a threatening tone, “Don't you say a word about me being here. If you know what's good for you, you'll remember to mind your own business.”
“Excuse me, but are you threatening me? I'm sorry, I thought we were grown women?” I couldn't help but say. I mean, last I checked, grown women didn't threaten each other.
“I think you understand English. Now, do what I say. No one needs to know about this. No one. If I hear otherwise, I'll have someone pay you a visit.” Alice continued with her threats.
I didn't know what to say. My past experience with this kind of situation was a big fat zero at best. No one threatened me, other than an occasion patient or two, who had been denied another dose of a medication they'd just been given. Just like coming between women and their prized possessions, no one liked to be separated from the feel good stuff and patient's medications fell into the category of feel good stuff. That was strictly a medical term, of course.
“Mom, your cell phone is ringing,” Diana stepped through the swinging doors. Noticing Alice and the expression on her face, she asked, “Are you okay in here?”
I nodded. “Sure, I'm fine. We were just chatting, weren't we, Alice?”
The glare I received in response almost made me laugh.
Diana waited for Alice to walk out before she reminded me about the phone call. “Mom, your phone. Its Nubbin.”
I took a deep breath. With everything going on, it had been a while since I'd spoken to Nubbin.
I took the phone. “How's my favorite former patient?”
“I don't want to hear that, Chevy. I want to know who you think you are.” Nubbin sounded angry, which normally wouldn't have been unusual for him, but this tone was slightly more pronounced. “You could have said something, instead of leaving me here to find out by myself.”
I pulled the phone from my ear to make sure that it was Nubbin that I was talking to. “I don't understand. Did I do something wrong, Nubbin?”
I started to wonder if this was due to his deteriorating memory. Nubbin and I met when I'd taken an assignment in Western Nebraska. He was and still is a nursing home patient. I'd met him under unusual circumstances and, despite all that happened during my three month stay there, I couldn't be more thankful for having met him.
Nubbin was complicated at best, but he truly had a heart of gold. This wouldn't be the first time I had to calm him down and I doubted that it would be the last. In fact, I hoped that it wouldn't be the last time. Nubbin was eighty-two years old and not getting any younger. He had a host of health problems and was fairly non-compliant with medications, but for him, like most, it was all about attitude. He may have sounded grumpy and went around giving those who took care of him a good scare every now and then, but he wasn't just sitting on his laurels waiting for illness to knock on his door either.
“All I know is that I don't appreciate being treated like a second class citizen and I'm about done with you. Next time, do me a favor and stay away from me.” Nubbin slammed the phone down, leaving me shocked and confused.
“Was he yelling? What happened?” Diana asked. “And, what was the cook doing here? I thought she got fired.”
“Honey, I don't know what's going on anymore. First, I thought that Flynn died, then I thought I saw a ghost. Now, I don't know anything anymore. Nubbin is mad at me and I have no idea why. You know what I want to do? I just want to cook, get my hands in some dough, and relax for a while. As soon as my car is fixed, we are leaving. Is that clear? I have had enough of this and I just want to go home and forget that it's my birthday.” My voice shook as I spoke. I needed a few minutes.
“Okay, Mom. Do you want some help?” Diana asked.
“No, I can do it. You and your Aunt Ruby should just have some fun. There's supposed to be some kind of ghost hunting tour here tonight, so you two can jump on board that crazy train.” I teased, determined to not sour another moment of this trip, if I could help it.
“I think I'll call Tina and see if she knows what's going on with Nubbin. I'll let you know later.” Diana walked out to make the phone call and let me wrap my head around what had happened.
Chip stepped back into the kitchen, the phone still to his ear. “They found out how Flynn died.”
I stopped short, gripping the counter. “What happened?”
“They think it's a homicide,” Chip answered.
“Homicide?” My knees went weak. “How could that be? He was here with us.”
Diana poked her head back into the kitchen. “Tina says that she doesn't know what's wrong with Nubbin. He just called your house and said that he's through with you.”
Chapter Eight
Charlie raised his voice, “Have you lost your mind, Mercy? You honestly think that you'll find something out by making cookies? I told you to leave this alone. Where is your car now? I can make some phone calls and see if I can get the parts out to you faster.”
I shot a sideways glance at Ruby because she was the one who took it upon herself to call Charlie again. I'd already said that I didn't want him involved.
“I don't need for you to do me any special favors. I'm fine and I was fine for a long time, long before you came around.” I hated to sound so mean, but that was the truth. He didn't need to come in to save me. I was capable of taking care of myself. And, who was he to tell me that I couldn't look into who killed Flynn?
“Mercy, do you hear yourself when you speak? I think Diana and Ruby would have been better off buying you a new pair of hearing aids for your birthday, because you obviously can't hear. While they're at it, they'd do well to invest into some common sense for
you because you are plum out, my dear.” Charlie said.
“Don't call me 'dear'. I know what I'm doing. We can't leave. My car died, remember? Do you think I want to stay here? Believe me, if my car wasn't dead, I'd be out of here right now. I need to do this. You weren't with me. You didn't see what I saw. He was in distress. Ruby and I saw it, but I was so busy whining and complaining that I didn't pay enough attention. I could have done something. I should have done something.” That was the honest truth. Now that it had been confirmed that Flynn was dead and it was a homicide, I felt guilty for being so selfish.
Charlie breathed heavily into the phone. I just assumed that he didn't like to be challenged by a formidable opponent. It would only be a matter of time before he did something rash, so I had to come up with a way to stop him from hopping on a plane and coming in to save the day. He'd done that before, and while I appreciated that he wanted to help, I also didn't feel right getting him involved.
