by Ellery Adams
“Chocolate cake with crème Chantilly.”
“Where did you get the recipe?” Trish asked.
“I pulled out my French cookbook and improvised.”
Trish admired the cake as Quinton removed a cake knife and server from a paper bag. “So, this is a Julia Child recipe?”
“Let’s just call it Julia Child–inspired. I may have wandered from the directions,” Quinton said. “Which reminds me. I heard from a friend that Chef Eason is working at that swanky Italian restaurant. You know anything about that, Cooper?”
“I do. I ran into him on Monday.” She focused on the cake handed to her and prayed her treacherous blushing wouldn’t begin.
“Ran into him?” Trish raised a brow in question.
“Yes, I ran into him at the Lamplighter.” No need to tell anyone he was looking for her. Already, the Bible study was reading way too much into the nonexistent relationship between her and Jon.
“Did he say anything else?” Quinton asked.
“Yes. Mindy has put the reopening on hold until the investigation is complete. It is her father’s wife, after all.”
“That’s tough for Mindy,” Savannah said. “She’s lost a lot. Her father, her marriage, and now this.”
“Very tough. She may never reopen if the investigation doesn’t get moving,” Cooper said.
“Anything on the painting?” Bryant asked.
Cooper shook her head and shared the bit of information gleaned from her interview with Detective Olson.
The group pondered her comments as they enjoyed Quinton’s cake. Cooper, meanwhile, found herself working up the courage to ask her friends for a favor.
“I have a question to ask everyone,” she finally said.
“What’s that?” Jake asked. He chased a crumb of chocolate around his paper plate and looked up at her.
“It’s about the inn.”
“We had a marvelous time,” Trish said. “Although the news of Loretta Atwood’s death wasn’t exactly the memorable ending we hoped for.”
“It’s about Loretta Atwood,” Cooper continued. “Mindy may lose the inn if the case isn’t closed soon. Things are moving very slowly. The police don’t even have a suspect in the missing painting aspect. Maybe they never will, since they aren’t even convinced the painting was stolen.”
“You’re right, Coop,” Quinton said. “And there are as many suspects as there are guest rooms at the inn. No one liked Mindy’s stepmother.”
She glanced around. “I have to admit a selfish note. My mother is a suspect as well. A Magnolia’s Marvel was found in Loretta’s vehicle, and the woman died of anaphylactic shock, which caused the accident.”
Quinton gasped. “I didn’t even make that connection. Poor Maggie. I’ll do anything to protect her desserts. We bakers have to stick together.”
“There’s no reason why we couldn’t poke around a bit. We’re pretty good at that, aren’t we?” Jake asked.
“We are,” Bryant said with a chuckle. “Way too good.”
“If we find anything that could help the investigation and move things along for Mindy, we just turn it over to the police,” Savannah chimed in. “That’s perfectly legal.”
“Agreed,” Cooper said, her heart swelling.
“I guess it couldn’t hurt. Mindy sure doesn’t deserve this, nor does your mother. Let’s quickly review the suspects and then make a plan,” Savannah said. “Then, we must get started on our study. We lost last Sunday, and we are woefully behind.”
Jake took his and Savannah’s cake dishes and placed them on the floor. Then he pulled out a notebook and pen. “Chef Mayberry is on the suspect list for sure.”
“Tony Mancuso. I don’t like to think he did it, but the man certainly had motive,” Trish said.
“Dax, the maintenance guy. I heard him arguing with Loretta. She thought he was up to no good, and even Jon said he was a shady character,” Cooper said.
“Jon, huh?” Trish said with a wink. “Which brings up Chef Eason. Does he have a motive?”
“He can get a job anywhere, and he’s only here out of loyalty to Mindy,” Cooper said.
“To Mindy?” Trish asked.
“He used to be her brother-in-law. And he has nothing to gain by Loretta’s murder.”
“Except that now Loretta can’t fire him,” Trish said with a shrug.
Cooper sighed. “Okay, to be fair, everyone is a suspect until we rule them out. And the only way to find the bad guy is by eliminating the good guys.”
“Well put,” Jake said. “Just like those detective novels.”
“What about innocent until proven guilty?” Savannah arched a dark brow as she asked the question.
“Isn’t that what I said?” Cooper asked.
Savannah’s laughter rang out. “Almost. But I get your point, and I agree, as long as we don’t make any assumptions about anyone.”
“I agree with that,” Cooper said.
“What about Helen, the receptionist?” Bryant asked.
“She’s afraid of her own shadow,” Quinton said. “Still, if we follow Cooper’s line of reasoning, Helen is a suspect until proven not.”
Jake started tearing the notebook page into strips and folded them up and put them in his Flying Squirrels baseball cap. “Pick one.”
Trish reached a hand into the hat and pulled out a folded paper. “Helen.”
Bryant waved his paper in the air. “I got Tony Mancuso.”
Quinton pulled out a paper. “Chef Mayberry.”
Cooper put her hand in. “Jon Eason.” Ugh. She didn’t want to think about Jon being guilty, because a part of her was drawn to the easygoing chef. But the truth was that she couldn’t trust her judgment. She’d lost all confidence in her ability to judge people after her failed relationships. Then there was the case the Bible study had worked on a while back around Halloween. A police detective who was really a murderer and had completely fooled her while at the same time making her believe he was interested in her.
She’d been a fool once too many times when it came to men.
Never again.
“Cooper, are you okay with checking out Jon?” Trish asked. “Do you want to switch?”
“How about if we team up?” Quinton said to Cooper. “You and I can investigate both chefs together. We might even get to share some good food.”
Cooper smiled. “That works. Thank you, Quinton.”
Trish turned to Bryant. “Shall we partner up for this? I don’t like the idea of checking out a possible killer alone.”
“You’re right. We’re a team. Starsky and Hutch.”
Trish snorted. “Why do we have to be guys? Why not Cagney and Lacey?”
“Point taken,” Bryant said with a nod.
“Great. Starsky and Hutch for me and Coop,” Quinton said with a chuckle.
“We’ve got Dax Wilson,” Jake said. He looked at Savannah. “I think we’re more like Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson.”
Jake’s comment made Savannah smile.
“So, what’s the plan?” Bryant asked.
“How about if we meet at Panera next Sunday after church for lunch and compare notes?” Jake said.
“Green goddess salad, here I come,” Trish commented.
“I’ll have to run it by my fiancée. But Jane knows how much this group means to me.” Bryant grinned widely. “Fiancée. Boy, do I love that word.”
“You know, Bryant, you can bring Jane to our Sunday group,” Savannah said.
“I will. Once we’re married and I can help with the kids. Right now, it’s all she can do to get herself and the kids ready for church.”
“Sounds like you’ve thought this out,” Savannah said. She glanced at the extra-large numbers on the digital watch on her wrist. “We must get started.”
Cooper slowly looked at each member of the Bible study. They hadn’t even hesitated when she said she needed help. The day she walked into this room several years ago, she’d been at rock bottom, alone and in des
pair. She sent up a silent prayer of thanks as she opened her Bible and another one to keep each member of the group safe as they moved forward with their own investigation.
Chapter Seven
Cooper glanced at the kitchen table, admiring the pretty place setting, and cloth napkins, along with the artful arrangement of spring flowers in the center. One of the perks of Ashley’s mansion off the elite River Road corridor was that not only did she have a huge kitchen that gleamed with stainless steel top-of-the-line appliances and granite countertops, but it boasted a cozy breakfast space. It provided a view of the backyard and Hannah’s swing set.
She sat at the table with Mindy on one side and Ashley on the other and realized that the nook reminded Cooper of her parents’ kitchen, and perhaps that was what Ashley planned when she designed the space. The cheery room was enough to put anyone in a pleasant mood.
“This was such a good idea,” Ashley gushed. She reached across her kitchen table to take both Cooper and Mindy’s hands. “I’m delighted that two of my favorite people in the world are here.”
Mama was right, Cooper decided as she squeezed her sister’s hand. Supporting Mindy right now was the Christian thing to do. She was alone in the word, whereas Ashley and Cooper had family to support them during this difficult time.
“I’m glad too,” Mindy said. “Thank you for suggesting we get together, Cooper.” She turned to Ashley. “This is the most normal I’ve felt in days . . . actually, maybe months.”
“I’m glad,” Cooper said. She cocked an ear, hoping to hear her niece. “Where’s Hannah?” she asked her sister.
“I sent Lincoln and Hannah to the park for some father-daughter time. Then they’ll head over to his parents’ house for brunch. I told him we needed a little girl time.” She stood and waved a hand toward the marble-topped buffet, where a spread of assorted hot and cold breakfast foods awaited them. Crystal pitchers with orange juice and sweet tea were set out, along with a carafe of coffee. “Help yourself to brunch, ladies.”
“You did all this, Ashley?” Mindy asked. “I’m so impressed. As I recall, neither one of us could boil water in college.”
“I made the phone call to the caterer. Does that count?” Ashley chuckled.
“It makes me feel better. I’m still not much of a cook.”
“Neither am I,” Ashley said. “These days, I can hardly get the dishwasher loaded at the end of the day. Being pregnant is exhausting, and then there’s chasing little Hannah. I burn more calories keeping up with her than I do in my exercise class, and it’s free.”
“What about you, Cooper?” Mindy asked. “Are you good in the kitchen?”
“I get by. In fact, my Bible study group once took a French cooking class together. But mostly, I’m spoiled because our mama is such an amazing cook.”
“Magnolia’s Marvels aren’t her only talent?” Mindy asked. “I’m not surprised.”
“Her beef brisket is to die for,” Ashley said. Then she paused and clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry. That was so inappropriate considering . . .”
Mindy waved a hand as she filled her plate with grits and sausage. “Please. Don’t treat me with kid gloves. It’s fine.”
Chitchat was light through the meal as Ashley shared her daughter’s antics, keeping them laughing. When Cooper headed to the buffet a second time and refilled her coffee cup, adding a liberal dose of cream, her gaze lingered on the plump Danish pastries, bursting with fresh fruit, artfully arranged on a China platter. Maybe later.
“Ashley, this was an amazing meal,” Cooper said. She finished off the last bite of bacon on her plate and leaned back in her chair, replete.
“Thank you,” her sister said. She grabbed her purse from the counter, and pulled out a compact and a tube of lipstick in a black square canister with a gold logo.
“What shade is that?” Mindy asked, eyeing the black tube.
Ashley looked at the bottom of the cylinder. “Sweet wine. My favorite color.”
“Me too. Mine went missing in action. Probably in my car, or my office. It was a real hit to my budget to have to buy a new one.”
“I know. I keep this far away from Hannah’s hands. It’s too precious.”
Cooper observed the interaction with interest. Apparently, everyone but her wore this lipstick brand—Loretta, Ashley and Mindy. She used lip balm, purchased at the grocery store.
“Now that we’re relaxed, this is probably as good a time as any to discuss the elephant in the room,” Mindy murmured.
Cooper and Ashley looked at each other and then back at their guest.
“The situation at the inn,” Mindy clarified. She emptied her orange juice glass, nudged the crystal goblet to the side, and folded her hands.
“What’s going on with the investigation?” Ashley finally asked.
“The police haven’t outright said it, but I believe that I’m their primary suspect.”
“Does that make our mama number two?” Ashley asked, shaking her head, her eyes round with worry.
“I don’t know. Detective Olson made it clear that he believes that with my father’s wife gone, I am free to sell the inn to a developer and pocket a substantial profit that I won’t have to share with Loretta.” Mindy’s face was wan as the words tumbled from her lips.
“What about the rest of the staff? People in the kitchen and housekeeping?”
“We had a skeleton staff on duty for the soft launch. Full staffing begins with our grand reopening. Last weekend it was one housekeeper and two kitchen employees. They all left as soon as the dinner service was complete.”
“And Chef Mayberry? Didn’t she have a great deal to gain by her mother’s death?” Cooper asked.
“Alice inherits her mother’s estate, which was substantial when my father passed, however, I’m guessing Loretta has blown through that. She’s not exactly a spendthrift. Which is probably why she constantly pressed me to sell the inn.”
“Interesting,” Cooper said. “Do you and Alice have history?”
“No. If you can believe it, Loretta didn’t invite her only child to her wedding to my father. Alice and I met when she showed up at the inn and Loretta demanded that I hire her.”
“That’s pretty odd.” Cooper paused. “Will Alice inherit Loretta’s portion of the inn?”
“No. That’s not how the will was set up. Truth be told, I thank the good Lord that my father’s will had a codicil. The inn can only be inherited by an Atwood. In the event of my death, if I have no children, the house will be donated to the City of Richmond as a historic site.”
“That includes everything in the house?” Ashley asked.
“Yes. The house, the property, and all the contents of the inn are mine, while I am alive. Loretta’s only interest in the inn was market value. Then she would be entitled to half the sale price.”
“That’s certainly an odd legality,” Ashley said.
“I suspect my father understood Loretta more than he let on, which is why the codicil was drawn up. He knew how much the inn meant to me. I would never sell it. In the end, I suppose, he also wanted to appease his wife on paper.”
“So everything is yours. Including the missing Deveraux painting?” Cooper asked.
“That’s correct.”
“What Deveraux painting? And how is it missing?” Ashley glanced from Cooper to Mindy with surprise in her blue eyes.
“There were two Austin Deveraux paintings in the inn when we checked in on Friday night. When we checked out, there was only one,” Cooper said.
Ashley released a small gasp of surprise. “An original Austin Deveraux. Surely it was insured.”
Cooper looked at her sister. Unlike herself, Ashley didn’t have to ask who Austin Deveraux was. Why was she not surprised? Ashley’s charmed life kept her in much more rarified air than Cooper breathed. She’d made peace with that fact a few years ago. Along with the fact that it was true that money did not buy happiness.
“Yes,” Mindy s
aid. “I haven’t had the paintings authenticated, but only because I never cared about their value. They were important to my father and brought him great pleasure when I was growing up. So they were important to me. But if push came to shove financially, I’d sell the paintings before I sold the inn. Of course, Loretta would get half of the price of the paintings.”
“Who else would know that they are original Deveraux?” Cooper asked.
“Loretta. We inventoried the inn when I began renovations. It was always my intention to authenticate the paintings, but it was not high on my list. Why would it be? They weren’t going anywhere, or so I thought.”
“Mindy, you should know that Detective Olson came to see me this week,” Cooper said. “He alluded to the possibility that the paintings hanging in the inn were not Deveraux originals.”
Mindy gave a weary shake of her head. “Yes. He contacted me yesterday. He’s very skeptical. I can’t prove the missing painting was authentic, but I can prove the remaining one is.” She took a deep breath. “I’ve reached out to someone to authenticate the remaining painting.”
Something wasn’t right about the whole situation with the painting being stolen and the murder all in the same twenty-four-hour time frame. “I have to wonder which came first, the chicken or the egg,” Cooper said aloud.
“What are you saying?” Ashley asked.
“Maybe the missing painting has something to do with Loretta’s death,” Cooper answered. “If the paintings were authentic, as you said, then selling one would be very profitable. Killing Loretta, probably not so much. If Loretta suspected something was going on, and was about to blow the whistle on someone . . .”
“You think someone stole the painting, murdered Loretta, and hoped I’d take the fall?”
“You or my mother.”
“I guess anything is possible. I’ve been so busy getting everything in order, and Loretta certainly has kept me distracted.” She shook her head. “I gave Detective Olson permission to search the inn without a search warrant. It would be fine with me if he came up with something helpful. But so far, nothing.”
Ashley’s eyes rounded. “Do you really think this is connected to the paintings?”
