Dying to Cook

by Patti Benning

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  DYING TO COOK

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  EPILOGUE

  Dying

  to

  Cook

  Asheville Meadows Cozy Mysteries

  Book Five

  By

  Patti Benning

  Copyright 2018 Summer Prescott Books

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  **This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

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  DYING TO

  COOK

  Asheville Cozy Mysteries

  Book Five

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  Autumn Roth put her purse down in the staff room and checked the noticeboard. Sometimes, the other chef who worked at Asheville Meadows left her a note if they had run out of an ingredient unexpectedly, or if something interesting had happened during one of the meals, but there wasn’t anything for her today. She glanced at Nicholas Holt's office but turned away when she heard the murmur of his voice through the door. Nick Holt was the director of Asheville Meadows… and also, her boyfriend. Work kept him busy for large portions of the day, but she knew that he would stop by the kitchen later to say hi to her. Seeing him at work daily was one of the many benefits of working at the nursing home, though she still wasn’t completely comfortable with the fact that she was dating the boss.

  She had a few minutes before she had to get started on lunch, so she decided to make a detour on the way to the kitchen to her aunt and uncle’s room. Her Aunt Lucinda had suffered a stroke a couple of years beforehand, and though she had made slow progress, she was still unable to speak, walk, or care for herself. Her Uncle Albert was clearheaded and capable of getting around just fine, even though he had lost part of his leg when he fought in a war in his youth, but he had opted to move into the nursing home with his wife rather than stay at their old home alone.

  “Autumn,” her uncle said in surprise when he opened the door to see her standing in the hall. “We were just talking about you. Come on in. I take it you have to get cooking soon?”

  “Yes,” Autumn said as she sidled into the room. “We’re having cauliflower soup, fruit salad, and homemade bread for lunch today.”

  “That sounds good,” her uncle said. “I'm half-starved already. Of course, I'd find room for one of your meals even if I was stuffed to the gills. Anyway, I'm sure you remember Westley. He was over here for a cup of coffee while we watched a rerun of the game from last weekend.”

  Autumn turned and realized that her aunt and uncle weren't the only people in the apartment. There was a third person; an elderly man with a shock of white hair and a richly styled wooden cane. Westley Phillips, the famous mystery writer.

  “It's nice to see you again,” she said, nodding to the other man. “You haven't been at any meals this week, have you?”

  “I had a bout of pneumonia,” he said. “They packed me off to the hospital just to be safe. I'm back now, and all better.” He covered up a cough, then chuckled. “Well, for the most part.”

  “That's good, I’m glad you’re back,” Autumn said. She walked across the room and crouched down to give her Aunt Lucy a hug.

  “Your aunt has been making progress with her physical therapy,” Uncle Al said from behind her. “Show her, Lucy.”

  Autumn watched in thrilled surprise as her aunt raised her bad hand and formed a shaky, weak fist.

  “That's amazing,” she breathed. “I knew you could do it. You must be so happy that you're still making progress. In no time at all, you'll be up and walking around.”

  Aunt Lucy just gave her a lopsided smile, then patted her hand. Autumn wondered if her aunt still hoped to regain full use of her faculties, or if she had resigned herself to living with limited mobility for the rest of her life. She wanted to think that her aunt still had hope. Autumn firmly believed that hope was important in life, even if the thing that you were hoping for seemed far out of reach.

  “Would you like some coffee, or maybe a cup of tea?” her uncle asked.

  “Thanks, but I can only stay for a couple of minutes. I'll just grab some coffee from the machine in the kitchen once I get to work.”

  “My coffee is better, but suit yourself,” he said. “So, is there anything new with you? How's that little dog of yours doing?”

  “Frankie is doing well,” Autumn said. “I'll bring her to visit sometime. And no, there's nothing new with me. Just the same old, same old. Not that I'm complaining; I love working here, and I’m glad life has finally calmed down a bit. I think I might need to find a hobby or something, though.”

  A few minutes later, Autumn excused herself. It was time to get started on lunch. She promised her aunt and uncle that she would see them during the meal, took her leave of Westley Phillips, then stepped out of the room. In the months that she had worked at Asheville Meadows, she had come to know the place like the back of her hand. It was late morning, and residents were on their way to and from physical therapy, walks in the garden, and visits with relatives. Of the thirty residents there, about twenty could make their way through the halls on their own. The other ten required assistance to go anywhere and took up much of the staff's time. She was grateful that her aunt had her uncle to help her out. While the staff at Asheville Meadows did their jobs well and cared about the residents, there was nothing like having family to help you when you needed it.

  When she walked into the kitchen, she found Nick waiting for her. He was leaning on the counter, scrolling through his phone, but looked up when she came in.

  “I saw your purse in the office,” he said. “I must have been on the phone when you came in. I just wanted to say hi.”

  “Hi,” she said, smiling and feeling a hint of the butterflies that she had felt in her stomach every day since they had started going out. She had never lik
ed anyone that she had dated as much as she liked Nick and hoped that she never lost that feeling.

  “We’ll be having a few guests for lunch today,” he said. “You shouldn't need to make too much extra food, but make sure that there is enough for at least a few more servings than usual.”

  “I will,” she promised. “How are you? I missed you yesterday.”

  “Busy,” he said, running a hand down his face. “That call was from a local contractor who wanted to put a bid in on the addition.”

  Autumn had been reaching for the refrigerator’s handle but paused. “A contractor?”

  “Yes.” His face split into a wide grin. “I didn't want to tell you until the board cleared it, but someone anonymously donated a large sum of money so we could add an extra wing to the building. The board already had a set of plans drawn up, so as soon as we find a contractor to take the job, construction will begin.”

  “Oh, Nick, that's wonderful!” Autumn threw her arms around him, and he chuckled as he returned the hug.

  “I'm pretty excited myself,” he said. “It will be wonderful to expand this place. The new wing will be for the residents that are more able to care for themselves. It will also allow dogs, as long as they are well behaved, since many residents have mentioned missing their pets, and we are going to add a small courtyard to it as well. I think this will be wonderful for everyone. The residents that need more constant care will stay in this part of the building, where they are closer to the dining room and the activity rooms. It's going to make things a lot easier for everyone and will also enable us to take in more residents.”

  “I can't wait to see it when it's done,” Autumn said.

  “Unfortunately, that probably won’t be for a while. It's going to be a mess around here while the construction is happening. It will be worth it in the long run, though. I should let you get to work, shouldn't I? I’ll stop by later today, around dinner time, and we can talk about our plans for this weekend. How would you feel about going hiking?”

  “As long as the weather is as nice as it is today, I would be thrilled to go,” she said. “I'll see you tonight.”

  He gave her a quick, chaste peck on the cheek, then left the room. Autumn smiled as she watched him go. Things just kept getting better and better. She couldn't have been happier for her boyfriend; he had wanted to expand the nursing home for a long time, and it was finally happening.

  “Here you go, Uncle Al,” she said, setting the bowl of cauliflower soup in front of him an hour later. “You might want to salt it yourself.”

  “I know, I know,” he said. “I'm used to the low-sodium you have to serve here. I know my way around the saltshaker by now.”

  Autumn smiled, patted her aunt, who had already been served, on the arm, then turned to head back to the kitchen and grab the next set of bowls. She often helped with serving, since the nursing home was perpetually short staffed. She didn't mind; it gave her a chance to get to know the residents, something that she couldn't do very well while she was stuck in the kitchen.

  “Pardon me,” someone called out. Autumn turned to see a strict looking middle-aged woman — not a resident, or a guest that Autumn recognized — wave her over.

  “How can I help you?” Autumn asked as she neared the table.

  “Are you the cook?”

  “I am. My name’s Autumn Roth.”

  “I am Audrey Blake,” the woman said. “I'm visiting my father for the first time in a while, and I thought I noticed a difference in the food.”

  “Sheldon Blake,” Autumn said, smiling at the nonverbal elderly man to the woman’s right. “I’m glad you have company today. Let me know if the two of you want anything special. I think we have some pudding left over from yesterday in the fridge.”

  “Wait, don't go yet,” Audrey said as Autumn turned to leave, her mind still on the meals she had to serve. “I wanted to ask you something.”

  “Sure,” Autumn said. “What is it?”

  “All of this… do you make it by yourself?” she gestured at the food in front of her.

  “For the most part, I do. Sometimes one of the other staff members helps me. Almost everything is made from scratch, though. Occasionally we’ll use a cake mix or a brownie mix, but that's about it.”

  “I have to say, it's just wonderful,” the woman said. “I understand that you have certain limitations, due to the dietary restrictions of the people you're serving, but even so, this food is delicious. Have you ever considered working in a real restaurant?”

  “I have,” Autumn admitted. “It's been a dream of mine for a long time, in fact.”

  Audrey looked around, then lowered her voice. “Listen… I have an opening at my restaurant right now. I've been going around town and rounding up people I think might make promising chefs, but who don't have the training that's usually required to work in a top-of-the-line restaurant. I want to give someone with hidden talent a chance that they might not have otherwise. Would you be interested in the position? Now, to be clear, you would still have to go through an interview process that includes working in the kitchen for a morning and proving that you can handle both the stress and the technical aspects of making a meal well under pressure, but it would be you and just a few other people trying out for the position. The pay would start off midrange, but it's probably better than what you make here.”

  Autumn hesitated, knowing that her mouth was hanging open in surprise. “I – I'm not sure. I love working here –”

  “Oh, I know you do,” the woman said. “I saw you talking to that older couple over there. It's obvious that you care about the residents quite a bit. We might even be able to work out something where you could still work here part-time, if you wanted. I just thought I would offer. I love encouraging people to use their talent, and I hate when I see it going to waste.”

  “I'll think about it,” Autumn managed to say, still in shock at the offer. “Can I have your phone number?”

  “Here's my business card, with my personal number on the back. Let me know your decision by Sunday, if you can. Like I said, I've got a few other people that will be trying out for the position as well. You did a wonderful job on the soup. I'd love to see what you can do in a real kitchen.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  Autumn scrubbed intently at the countertop, watching as the coffee stain slowly faded away. It was Saturday morning, and in just under an hour her friends would be arriving for their first barbecue of the season. After the offer she had received from Audrey Blake, she hadn’t been able to think of anything else. She needed to talk to the people closest to her in order to make up her mind. She and Nick could go hiking anytime, but this offer was something that would only happen once in her lifetime.

  All her life, she had been enamored by the idea of being a professional chef. She had looked up Audrey Blake's restaurant and had known from the instant the website had loaded that it was exactly what she had always dreamed about. Now that the opportunity was right in front of her, however, she wasn't sure if she should take it. She loved working at Asheville Meadows. No, it wasn't the same as being a professional chef in a traditional kitchen, but it was deeply fulfilling in a way that no other job had been. It wasn't just the work; she loved being more involved with her aunt and uncle, and she enjoyed being around Nick, Emily, and all the other people that worked there. It wasn't just a job; it was a community. Even though she had only been working there for a few months, she already felt more at home there than she had at the grocery store, where she had worked for over five years.

  “What should I do, Frankie?” she said out loud. The little cairn terrier looked up at her and wagged her stubby tail. The dog wasn't much help in this situation; whatever happened, Frankie would be happy. That was just who she was. Sure, she might miss Autumn coming home between shifts to let her out, but she would adjust to whatever the new schedule was quickly enough.

  With a sigh, Autumn put the rag down and looked around the kitchen. It was spot
less. She cleaned whenever she was worried, and the fact that her house was practically sparkling right now showed just how stressed she was by the decision she had to make.

  Even if I go to the interview, there's no guarantee that I will get the job, she told herself. Audrey had made it clear that there would be multiple applicants. Many of them were probably more qualified than she was. She had mentioned the job offer to Nick the evening before but hadn't had much of a chance to gauge his reaction to it. He had simply promised that they could talk about it tomorrow, but now that tomorrow was here, she was nervous.

  Nick had done so much for her. He had taken a chance in hiring her and had given her an opportunity that she never would have gotten otherwise. If she did take this job offer, what would he think of her? She was grateful to him for everything he had done and didn't want him to think that she had just been using him to get work.

  “What am I going to do?” she groaned.