Curried Lobster Murder: Book 14 in The Darling Deli Series

by Patti Benning

  “Do either of you want a bowl of oatmeal?” she asked, looking between Candice and Eli as they came in and shut the door behind themselves. “It won’t take long to make.”

  Both of them did, so Moira hurried into the kitchen to make the food, conscious that they had to leave soon if they were going to make it to the airport as early as she wanted to. Well, we’re planning on getting there two hours early, so we should have a little bit of leeway, she thought. Still, I won’t be able to relax until we’re sitting at the gate.

  Twenty minutes later, the oatmeal was eaten, the bowls were cleaned, the deli owner had finished packing her last-minute necessities, and Candice and Eli were murmuring to each other in the hallway as Moira and David brought the suitcases out to her green SUV.

  “I love you,” Candice said to Eli as she got into the back seat of the SUV. “I’m going to miss you so much. Take good care of Felix, okay?”

  “I love you too, and I’ll make sure to give him extra treats, though I know it won’t make up for him missing you. Will you text me when you land?”

  The deli owner smiled at the obvious love between the two young people. They hadn’t known each other for more than a few months, but that didn’t seem to matter. She was glad that her daughter had finally found someone that seemed to be a genuinely good person. She could only hope that their relationship would keep going strong.

  “Ready?” David asked her, slipping his arm around her waist and brushing a kiss across her cheek. “We’ll be right on schedule if we leave now.”

  She nodded.

  “Let’s get going,” she said.

  A couple of hours later, Moira said her own hurried goodbyes to David at the security checkpoint, wishing that she had time for more than a quick kiss and ‘I love you,’ but construction on the way to the airport had already slowed them down, and the security lines looked long.

  “I’ll give you a call when we land,” she promised. “But I won’t be able to use my phone once the cruise ship leaves shore. I have my tablet though, and I’ll email you and have Candice show me how to do a video call.”

  “I look forward to it,” he said. “I want you to have a good time and be safe. And Moira? Try to stay out of trouble.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  The flight went as smoothly as Moira could have hoped. They went through security without a single issue, making her glad that she had gone over the airline’s requirements multiple times as she was packing. She and Candice had seats together on the plane. Letting her daughter take the window seat, the deli owner settled herself in the middle one after stashing her carry on in the compartment above her head. She turned her phone off, pulled out the novel she had picked up at a recent library book sale, and settled down to wait as the rest of the passengers loaded up, glancing over at Candice occasionally to make sure she was okay. The young woman looked calm enough. She had her headphones plugged into the seat-back screen and was flipping through the free movie choices.

  “Excited?” Moira asked when her daughter looked over.

  “Yeah.” She grinned. “Thanks so much for inviting me. This is going to be awesome.”

  “I hope so.” She smiled back, but couldn’t ignore the niggling worry that had been chewing at her since she learned that her name had been drawn. Was she ready for this? Would she be able to be a real competitor in the competition, or would the other chefs all be far more skilled than she was? Was she just going to embarrass herself?

  Her doubts didn’t matter—the captain was speaking, the plane’s engines were revving, and before she knew it, they were in the air.

  After landing in Florida, things seemed to blur together. The two women retrieved their bags from the luggage carousel, then somehow managed to find the bus company that would drive them straight to the docks.

  The cruise ship, when it finally came into view, was huge. Its name, Caribbean Queen, was written on the side in huge letters. As she realized this enormous boat would be her home for the next week, Moira replaced her worries about the coming competition with far less rational fears. How could this thing even float? What if they struck some submerged rock and went down like the Titanic? Don’t be silly, she thought, taking deep breaths. The people who built this thing knew what they were doing. Of course it floats; it’s floating now, isn’t it? And we have all sorts of underwater sonar and cameras these days that they didn’t have back when the Titanic sank. We’ll be perfectly fine. Just relax and have fun.

  Deciding to obey her own command, she hefted her bags and gave Candice a broad smile. It was time to embark on their adventure at last.

  Boarding the ship was surprisingly similar to boarding an airplane. They went through metal detectors in a long, slow-moving line, then gave their luggage to porters, who put the bags in big wheeled bins with a promise that the suitcases would be delivered to their rooms that evening.

  The crowds made things confusing at first, but Moira and Candice did their best to follow the signs for the Grand Cruise Chef War, and soon enough found themselves in a large room with a banner welcoming the contestants on board. A sharply dressed woman with short, spiky brown hair and a tablet in her hand approached them.

  “Names?” she asked them.

  “Moira Darling and Candice Darling-Thomson,” the deli owner said. She watched as the other woman’s fingers flew across the tablet’s touch screen. A moment later, she smiled.

  “Welcome aboard, Ms. Darling and Ms. Darling-Thomson. Mother and daughter, I presume?” They nodded. “My name is Charlene Edwards. You can call me Charlie or Miss Edwards, whichever you prefer. It’s my job to get you settled in and answer any questions that you have.”

  “It’s nice to meet you,” Moira said. “Neither of us have ever been on a cruise before, so I’m sure you’ll have your work cut out for you. I guess my first question is, where are our rooms?”

  “Right this way,” the other woman said. “All of the contestants have rooms on this floor—the third floor—to make matters easier for them. Both the kitchen and the banquet hall that we’ll be using for the competition are also on this floor.”

  She led them down a hallway as she spoke, and Moira tried to pay attention to the layout of the ship as she listened to the other woman’s explanation. She was sure she would get lost a few times before figuring out how to get around, but thankfully there were maps at each corner, and they passed a couple of stewards on the way to their rooms.

  The rooms were adjoining, each the mirror of the other. They were simple, but looked comfortable. There was a full-sized bed in each, along with one window that looked out over the ocean, plenty of shelf and wardrobe space, a desk, and a small private bathroom. Everything looked clean and fresh, and the deli owner and her daughter exchanged smiles.

  “Your luggage will be brought up later,” Charlie was saying. “It will be in your rooms by the time that you’re back from dinner. Speaking of meals, tonight we will be dining in the banquet hall that is put aside for the Chef War, but most of your meals will be eaten in one of the dining halls with the rest of the guests. We also have a couple of twenty-four hour buffets, and the ship does offer room service at all times. There’s a small packet on your nightstands that will explain the dining options in more detail.”

  “What time is dinner tonight?” Moira asked.

  “The banquet hall opens at five-thirty, and we begin the first course at six. Which means you have…” She glanced at her sleek wristwatch, “an hour and a half. At the banquet we will go over the rules of the competition, you’ll receive the information you’ll need for the first challenge—which takes place tomorrow morning—and you’ll also meet the rest of the contestants as well as the judges.”

  “Are you one of the judges?”

  “No, no, I’m just an assistant,” she said with a smile. “My job is to make sure everyone knows what’s going on and gets to where they need to be at the right times. I’m available to answer your questions at any time of day or night, so don’t hesitate to hunt
me down if you need something. I’m in room three-oh-eight, which is right by the banquet hall, if you need me.”

  They listened as Charlie gave them directions to the banquet hall— “It’s on the port side of the ship, with a huge sign out front. You can’t miss it.”— then handed Moira her photo tag that would identify her as a contestant in the Chef War. When the other woman left them, they tested their room keys, hefted their purses, and went into their separate rooms to begin getting ready for the dinner later that evening.

  The day of traveling had worn the deli owner out, but there wasn’t quite enough time for a nap before dinner. Instead of lying down and risking falling asleep, the deli owner decided to send an email to David and check on how the deli was doing. It was only her first day away from home, but she felt as if she had been gone for much longer. It was amazing to think that just this morning she had woken up in her bed in Maple Creek back in Michigan, and now she was on a cruise ship in Florida about to depart for a tour of the Caribbean islands.

  Once she got her tablet hooked up to the ship’s Wi-Fi, she attached the keyboard and sat down at the small desk. She decided to check for any emails from Darrin first—she wouldn’t be able to stop worrying until she knew everything was going smoothly at the deli. She hadn’t received any calls from Darling’s DELIcious Delights since she got off the plane, but it wasn’t until she logged into her work email that she breathed a sigh of relief. No news could only be good news.

  Next she logged into her personal email and started a message to David, telling him about her day in more detail than she had been able to during their hurried phone call earlier; she did her best describing how amazing—and intimidating—the enormous ship was. She ended the email by asking how the dogs were doing and, smiling, added an I love you to the end. She pressed send, then got up to take a quick shower. In no time at all she would be meeting her chef opponents as well as the judges, and she was determined to make a good impression.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  By the time she emerged from the shower, someone had delivered her suitcase. Good, I can change into something nice, she thought, tucking the towel around herself. She had packed a couple of different dresses, and decided to go with a simple olive green one for tonight. She was saving her best dress, a sleek black one, for the final ceremony, when they would hand over the $10,000 check to the winner. She knew that the chances of actually winning weren’t very high, but it would be good to look nice regardless.

  As she pulled on her dress and slipped her feet into strappy brown sandals, she had a sudden moment of panic. What would the other contestants be wearing? What would they be like? She knew that any form of competition could bring out the worst in some people, and with the stakes this high, at least some of the contestants were bound to be less than friendly. She had hoped to make some friends while on the cruise, but was now realizing that might not be so likely.

  We’re all adults, she thought as she finished buckling her sandals. I’m sure this competition won’t turn us into monsters.

  Just as Charlie had promised, the banquet hall was easy to find. In front of the heavy oak doors was a large banner welcoming them to the Second Annual Chef War hosted by Grand Cruise Lines. A steward opened the doors for her and Candice after checking Moira’s tag and gestured them in.

  The hall was beautiful. It had high ceilings with several gorgeous chandeliers, large windows that currently looked out over the harbor, and even a balcony for outdoor dining. On one side of the room was a stage, holding a long table—she assumed the judges would sit there. The rest of the floor was covered by smaller round tables for the contestants and their guests. Servers were making the rounds, delivering drinks and appetizers to those already seated.

  “Ms. Darling?” one of the servers said, peering at her ID tag hanging from a lanyard around her neck. “Right this way. You’re seated over by the window. Each table seats six, so you’ll have two other people joining you.”

  She led them over to a round table where a middle-aged woman and an elderly man were already seated. Moira sat down in the spot indicated by a name card. She felt a thrill at the sight of her name printed in curling script on the thick paper. It felt so official, and so final. There was no backing out now.

  “Hi, I’m Nadine Jenkins,” the woman said, giving her a nervous smile. “I’m one of the contestants.”

  The woman had mousy brown hair that curled around her shoulders. Her floral print dress was clean, but looked worn, and Moira noticed that she kept chewing on her lower lip; a nervous tic that left it red and irritated.

  “Moira Darling,” the deli owner said, extending her hand, which the woman grasped and then released in a quick shake. “I’m a contestant too. This is my daughter, Candice.”

  “This is my father, Doug,” Nadine said. “My husband had to stay home and watch the kids, so he offered to come with me.”

  “Nice to meet you, Doug.” Moira smiled at him, then turned her attention back to Nadine. “So, what do you do? I know each of the contestants has to either own or work at some sort of restaurant. I own a deli up in Michigan.”

  “I own a small diner in Minnesota,” the other woman said. “Well, my husband is the one that owns it. I just run it.”

  “That sounds nice. It must be wonderful to work together as a family like that. Do your kids help out too?”

  “They’re too young,” Nadine told her. “The oldest is twelve. She helps out with the dishes sometimes.”

  “Well, just a few more years and I bet she’ll be doing a lot more,” the deli owner assured her. “Candice here was a great help at the deli while she worked there. She owns her own business now though.”

  “Oh, that’s nice.” The woman gave them a small smile. If she was going to say anything else, it got interrupted by the arrival of another set of people.

  The older of the two, a man in his fifties, introduced himself as Bobby Babcock. The woman, who looked to be Moira’s age, was his wife, Linda. They owned a burger joint on the East Coast, and both of them looked very happy to be there.

  “Our son is in charge of the restaurant while we’re gone,” Linda told them. “I’m so proud of him. For a long time, we were worried that he wouldn’t want to take over the restaurant when we retired, but he’s finally starting to show some interest.”

  “That’s wonderful,” Moira told them.

  Who will take over the deli when it’s time for me to retire? she wondered as the others picked up the conversation. Darrin, maybe? Does he really want to spend the rest of his life working at the deli? She wondered how different her life would have been if she hadn’t gotten divorced. It would be so nice to have a real partner in life and work, like these women seemed to have with their husbands.

  “You all seem really friendly,” said Bobby when the conversation hit a lull. “I have to admit; I wasn’t expecting to meet such nice people. With the prize at stake, I was expecting the atmosphere would be more like every person for him- or herself. This is much nicer.”

  “We’re all civilized,” the deli owner said with a smile, though she had been worried about the exact same thing not long ago. “I’m sure things will change once the competition starts and people begin getting eliminated.”

  “Ten thousand dollars is a lot of money,” Nadine said, nodding in agreement. “I’d be surprised if people kept on being so civil to each other for the whole week.”

  “It’s not really the money I’m after,” Bobby admitted. “It’s the cooking segment with a celebrity chef. Something like that could really shoot a restaurant into the big time. We’re already doing well enough, of course—we were voted the best burger joint in town a few years back and have won a few local competitions, but nothing like this.”

  “That’s what I’m after too,” Moira said. “Not that the money wouldn’t be nice but I think the chance to be on TV with a famous chef would be amazing. I haven’t really entered any competitions before though, other than one at the local county fair and… we
ll, that didn’t turn out so good.” She fell silent, hoping that she wouldn’t have to remember the horrible few weeks surrounding the soup competition at the county fair. Thankfully Candice asked them what food other than burgers they served at their restaurant, and the conversation turned to talk of which side dish went best with a good burger.

  A few minutes later, after the room had filled up with chatter and laughter, Charlie stepped up to the microphone that was standing on the center of the stage in front of the long table.

  “Can I have your attention, please?” she asked. A silence fell over the room as all eyes turned toward her. “I would like to welcome each and every one of you to the second annual Grand Cruise Chef War!”

  She paused as the room erupted in applause, then continued, “We are very excited to have you here today, and we hope that this next week exceeds your expectations. As most of you already know, my name is Charlie Edwards, and it is my job to make sure that each and every one of you has everything you need to make this trip a trip to remember. In just a moment I will introduce the judges and we will go over some basic rules of the competition. We will then hand out envelopes containing the information you will need for the first challenge which starts tomorrow morning at eight. After that, dinner will be served and you will be free to socialize. But first, I’m going to ask everybody to turn their attention toward the balcony windows. In just a minute, we will be pulling away from the dock and our adventure will officially begin.”

  Moira, along with every other person in the room, turned her attention to the huge windows out of which they could see the port. She could hear loud music coming from above, where the rest of the guests were probably gathered on deck to witness the moment the huge boat began to move. Strains of a familiar song floated down through the propped open balcony doors, and she grinned, beginning to get into the festive spirit of things. When a large cheer went up and she saw the port outside begin to move, she realized that they must have set sail. She hadn’t felt even the smallest jolt as the engines kicked into gear. This is amazing, she thought. I can hardly even tell I’m on a ship.