by B R Snow
Stir briefly then place the dish into the oven preheated to 350F.
Bake covered for 45 minutes until the rice is al dente. (most of the liquid should be absorbed by this point.)
Remove from the oven, then add the Parmesan, butter, salt, pepper, and the remaining cup of chicken stock.
Stir constantly for 2 to 3 minutes, until the rice is thick and creamy.
(If you plan on adding additional ingredients such as bacon, sautéed mushrooms, peas, asparagus, whatever, incorporate them into the risotto before stirring.)
If desired, sprinkle individual servings with more parmesan and garnish with chopped parsley.
Serve hot.
Chapter 17
Josie waited until Natalie and Betty got settled then closed the back door and slid into the passenger seat. Chef Claire climbed in behind the wheel and slipped her sunglasses on. She glanced over her shoulder as she started the engine.
“Are we all set?” she said.
“We’re good,” Betty said, glancing around. She spotted Emerson’s yellow Ferrari still sitting in the circular driveway that fronted the villa. “I thought he was going to play golf this afternoon.”
“He is,” Josie said. “I saw him after class in the dining room eating a sandwich. He said he has a tee time around noon.”
“His behavior has been appalling since Bronwyn died,” Betty said. “His wife gets killed, and his biggest concern is his golf game.”
“Yeah, he’s a real saint,” Josie said, shaking her head. Then a taxi heading up the access road to the villa got her attention. “Are Marco and Rosa expecting anybody?”
“They’ve invited some family over,” Chef Claire said, watching as the taxi reached the circular drive and came to a skidding stop right behind them. “The taxi’s empty. He must be doing a pickup.”
“Georgio and Lance are going into town,” Natalie said from the backseat. “The surfer has never been here before, and Georgio offered to give him a tour.”
“He should stick to surfing,” Betty said, laughing. “Did you taste his polenta?”
“I did,” Josie said. “It reminded me of the paste we used to use in kindergarten during arts and crafts.”
“How do you know what the paste tasted like?” Chef Claire said, glancing over at Josie.
“Long story,” Josie said with a shrug.
“Okay,” Chef Claire said, laughing. “But you’re right, I don’t like his chances of becoming a chef.”
Georgio and Lance bounded down the front steps and gave them a wave as they climbed into the taxi. The driver put the car in reverse to give himself some room then tore off down the access road.
“Follow that car,” Josie deadpanned.
“Not likely,” Chef Claire said, slowly accelerating down the access road. “I plan on going home in one piece.” She glanced at Betty through the rearview mirror. “You said you’ve been here before, right?”
“I have,” Betty said, leaning forward. “The drive around the lake is beautiful. But I’m not sure we have enough time to make the whole trip today. It’s around a hundred miles. We could probably do it in three hours, but that’s without stopping.”
“I’d like to make some stops,” Chef Claire said, making a right onto the main road.
“Me too,” Josie said, nodding as she glanced out the window.
“A little sightseeing, maybe do some shopping,” Chef Claire said.
“And some eating,” Josie said.
“You just had a snack,” Chef Claire said, taking a quick glance into the backseat. “How does that sound to you guys?”
“Perfect,” Betty said, sitting back in the seat.
“Sounds good,” Natalie said.
“What side of the lake should we take, Betty?” Chef Claire said, slowing down as they reached the edge of town.
“Well, the western side is breathtaking, but the road can be tough to drive. You have no idea how winding and narrow it is in parts.”
“I could probably ballpark it,” Chef Claire said, glancing over at Josie.
“Let it go,” Josie said, making a face at her.
“But the drive on the eastern side is also beautiful,” Betty said. “Why don’t we head north and keep an eye on the time? At some point, we’ll just turn around and head back. You probably don’t want to be making the drive after dark.”
“Good call,” Chef Claire said, making a right and heading north.
A few minutes later, they got their first good look at the southern end of the lake that was cobalt blue today. Chef Claire slowed down, and they all looked out over the water and surrounding homes.
“Geez,” Josie said, shaking her head. “Everywhere I look is like a postcard.”
“You got that right,” Chef Claire said.
“It’s beautiful,” Natalie said, then flinched when a yellow Ferrari screamed past them.
Emerson gave them a quick wave and a tap of the horn as he blew by. The Ferrari soon disappeared from sight.
“What a jerk,” Josie said. “I hope he falls in the lake.”
“Yes,” Betty said. “I understand why Bronwyn was considering another option.” Then she caught a glimpse of Natalie’s reaction to her comment. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Natalie. That was insensitive on my part.”
“Don’t worry about it,” Natalie said, then stared out at the lake.
“Not that it really matters now, right?” Josie said, glancing into the backseat. “How did your chat with Commissario Bruno go?”
“It was uneventful,” Betty said. “But he does seem baffled by the case.”
“He is,” Natalie said. “But I imagine he’ll figure it out soon enough.”
“You really think so?” Betty said.
“How hard can it be?” Natalie said, glancing over at her. “It had to be someone staying at the villa. It’s a pretty small group.”
“Now there’s a cheery thought,” Josie said. “You really think someone staying at the villa killed her?”
“Of course,” Natalie said. “Don’t you?”
“Yeah, I do,” Josie said, after giving it some thought. “As much as I hate to admit it.” She focused on Betty. “Who do you think killed her?”
“Oh, my,” Betty said, frowning. “I’ve been doing everything I can not to think about it.”
“C’mon, Betty, fess up,” Josie said, laughing. “You’re among friends.”
“Well, based on everything I’ve seen on TV and the movies, isn’t the spouse always the prime suspect?” Betty said.
“Yes,” Josie said. “So, what you’re saying is you think Emerson might have done it?”
“No, I’m not saying that at all,” Betty said, turning defensive. “I was merely making an observation.”
“I like Emerson for it,” Chef Claire said.
“Oh, do tell,” Natalie said, leaning forward.
“Their marriage was on the rocks, and Bronwyn was already considering the option of getting back together with Georgio…” Chef Claire glanced at Natalie through the rearview mirror. “Sorry, Natalie.”
“Forget it,” Natalie said. “Continue.”
“They live in California, a fifty-fifty state when it comes to divorce, and it’s pretty clear Emerson’s only concern is himself.”
“As was Bronwyn’s,” Josie said.
“Yeah, definitely two peas in a pod,” Chef Claire said. “My best guess is Emerson went ballistic at some point. And since he’s like a three-year-old when he doesn’t get his way, he lashed out.”
“Even though he says the separation was his idea?” Josie said.
“That what he says. It doesn’t mean it actually happened that way,” Chef Claire said.
“If he couldn’t have her, nobody could?” Josie said. “Yeah, I can make the jealousy angle work.”
“But why wouldn’t he have taken his anger out on Georgio?” Betty said.
“Because he needs Georgio,” Chef Claire said. “We watched them at dinner the other night, and it was
pretty clear they were discussing a business deal.”
“Interesting,” Betty said, nodding. “But it’s insane. What sort of business deal could be more important than the safety of his wife?”
“I don’t know,” Chef Claire said, gripping the steering wheel with both hands. “But I’m willing to bet it’s a deal with a lot of trailing zeros.” Chef Claire paused to glance around at all three of them. “Maybe Emerson isn’t quite as well off as he would have us believe.”
“Well, look at you,” Josie said, laughing. “Our little Sherlock. Suzy would be so proud.”
“Shut it.”
“It makes sense,” Natalie said to no one in particular.
“Do you know what Georgio has been working on lately?” Josie said.
“Apart from the pasta maker?” Natalie said.
“Yeah,” Josie said.
“I have no idea,” Natalie said. “But I’m sure he’s been working on something.”
“What are you talking about?” Betty said, frowning.
“Georgio’s inventions aren’t limited to kitchen gadgets,” Josie said.
“And you know this how?” Betty said.
“Bronwyn told us,” Chef Claire said.
“Really?” Betty said, surprised. “What sort of things does he invent?”
“Secret things,” Natalie said, glancing over.
“Thanks for clearing that up,” Betty said.
“Apparently, Georgio dabbles in weapon systems and other things despicable people love getting their hands on,” Chef Claire said.
“Other things…like an undetectable poison?” Betty whispered.
“Bingo,” Natalie said. “Give that woman a cigar.”
“Georgio is trying to sell it to Emerson?” Betty said, thoroughly confused. “The very thing that killed his wife?”
“We don’t think he’s trying to sell it to Emerson,” Josie said. “Our best guess is that Georgio wants Emerson to produce it.”
“I’m not following,” Betty said. “Producing it?”
“Yes, in quantity,” Chef Claire said. “It sounds like Georgio is basically a lone wolf when it comes to his work. You know, lots of time in the lab coming up with new ideas. And after he has some sort of workable prototype, he needs to partner with people who can make it in quantity.”
“And you think Emerson is that person?” Betty said.
“We think he’s one of several people Georgio works with,” Josie said, then glanced at Natalie. “How are we doing so far?”
“Better than the cops,” Natalie said, laughing.
“Did you share your theory with Commissario Bruno?” Betty said.
“Absolutely not,” Josie said.
“Why not?”
“Because my plan is also to go home in one piece,” Josie said. “If we’re right, who knows how this thing might blow up. And while we’re very sorry about what happened to Bronwyn, it’s still none of our business.”
“I see,” Betty said. “I suppose that makes sense.”
“It makes perfect sense,” Natalie said.
“This is probably going to keep me up at night,” Betty said. “How should we handle the rest of the week?”
“Stay out of the way,” Natalie said. “And wait for the next shoe to drop.”
“Geez, not another one,” Chef Claire said, staring into the rearview mirror.
“What is it?” Josie said, glancing over her shoulder.
“A bumper rider,” Chef Claire said as she slowed down and motioned for the vehicle to pass them.
The vehicle, a black SUV with dark tinted windows, waited for the road to open up a bit then pulled around them.
“It looks like something the cops would drive,” Josie said.
“It does,” Betty said. “But it doesn’t have government plates.”
“Maybe it’s just someone who values their privacy,” Chef Claire said.
“Well, mission accomplished,” Josie said. “I couldn’t see a thing inside the car.”
“They’re turning,” Chef Claire said, easing her foot off the gas pedal. “Well, how about that? The sign says it’s a golf course. Do you think they’re meeting Emerson there?”
“Anything’s possible,” Josie said. “But it’s none of our business.”
“You’re right,” Chef Claire said, accelerating past the resort. “What should we do first? Head down to the lake for a look or stop at one of the towns and walk around? Natalie, Betty, what do you think? Hike down to the lake or do some window shopping and maybe grab a snack before heading back to the villa?”
“It’s a holiday,” Betty said. “Do you think anything will be open?”
“There’s only one way to find out,” Chef Claire said.
“Don’t I get a vote?” Josie said.
“I think we know how you’ll vote,” Chef Claire said, glancing over.
Chapter 18
They arrived back at the villa just before the sun went down and found Marco and Rosa out on the veranda surrounded by at least two dozen people. The collective conversation was loud and, judging by the number of wine bottles on the table, it appeared they’d been there awhile. Marco spotted them walking up the front steps and waved them over.
“There you are,” he said. “Please, join us. Enrico, could you bring some fresh glasses?”
“A glass of wine sounds great,” Chef Claire said, giving both Marco and Rosa quick hugs.
“How was your drive?” Marco said, glancing around at all four women.
“It was beautiful,” Betty said, sitting down at the table. “The lake is incredible.”
“Yes, we love it,” Rosa said. “Marco, can you handle the introductions?”
“Of course,” he said, tapping his glass to get everyone’s attention. “This is Chef Claire, next to her is Josie, Betty, and Natalie. They are all here at the cooking school this week.”
He proceeded to quickly work his way around the table introducing everyone. The vast majority of them were family members, primarily cousins, and they smiled and waved then went back to what they’d been doing. The buzz of casual chatter and laughter again soon filled the table.
“We do this every year on All Souls’ Day,” Marco said. “It’s a day for friends and family. Are you hungry?”
“Thanks, but we stopped on our way back and had an early dinner,” Chef Claire said.
“There’s a ton of food,” Rosa said.
“Where’s the rest of our group?” Chef Claire said.
“Well, let’s see,” Marco said. “The Peccatis are spending the night with family about an hour from here. Georgio and Lance got back from town about twenty minutes ago and headed upstairs to shower and change. And Emerson isn’t back from the golf course yet.”
“We saw him on the road earlier,” Chef Claire said. “He was definitely in a hurry.”
“He’s renting a Ferrari,” Marco said, laughing. “You really don’t have much choice about being in a hurry when you’re driving one of those.”
“Fair point,” Chef Claire said, glancing up when the server approached carrying four glasses. He poured and passed the glasses around. “Thanks, Enrico.” She took a sip and nodded her approval. “This is good.”
“It’s a Bardolino we produce,” Marco said, taking a sip.
“It reminds me of a Valpolicella,” Chef Claire said, holding her glass up to the light. “But lighter.”
“Very good,” Rosa said, beaming at her before glancing at Marco. “She was such a good student. Never missed a thing in class.”
“Indeed,” Marco said, nodding. “It’s the same grape, but because of the soil and climate around here, the Bardolino is lighter and softer than the Valpolicella.” He raised his glass in salute to Chef Claire. “And now you’re a world-class chef. We’re so proud of you.”
“Thanks, guys,” Chef Claire said, her face flushed red.
“You’re such a suck up,” Josie deadpanned.
“Shut it.”
Everyone
glanced at the double doors when Georgio appeared. He took a look around before heading for Marco’s end of the table. He gave Natalie a peck on the cheek then sat down in an empty chair between Josie and Chef Claire. He grinned and gave both of them a quick once-over.
“Good evening, ladies,” he said, pouring himself a glass of wine. “How was the drive?”
“Beautiful,” Josie said. “How was your day?”
“It was great,” Georgio said, nodding. “Lance and I walked the southern end of the lake then had an amazing lunch at a trattoria. We got lucky. There weren’t many places open today.”
“It was good,” Lance said, nodding as he approached the table. He gave the group a wave then sat down next to Betty. “It was a stew with beans and sauerkraut.”
“And potatoes and ham,” Georgio said, then laughed. “And a whole bunch of garlic.”
“Yota,” Marco said, glancing at his wife. “They must have gone to Antonio’s. Yota is one of their specialties.”
“Well, it was fantastic,” Georgio said, glancing around. “Emerson’s not back from golf yet?”
“No, we haven’t seen him,” Marco said. “He’s probably playing to last light.”
“I don’t get it,” Lance said, shaking his head. “Hitting a little ball then walking after it just so you can hit it again. It’s nuts.”
“Any crazier than standing on a piece of fiberglass on top of a ten-foot wave?” Georgio said.
“Surfing makes you feel alive,” Lance said, shrugging. “Golf is the walk of the dead. My dad plays a lot.”
“I’ve been thinking about taking it up,” Marco said. “But it sounds like it takes an awful lot of time. Which I can’t spare.”
“You got that right,” Rosa said, then studied the car making its way up the driveway. “What the heck is he doing back here?”
“Who is it?” Marco said, following her eyes.
“Commissario Bruno,” Rosa said, reaching for her wine glass.
“Maybe he has an update,” Georgio said.
They watched as he parked his car then hopped out trailed by his Newfie.
“Cool,” Josie said. “He brought his dog. Look at him.”
“I can’t believe how much he looks like Captain,” Chef Claire said.
