A Cookbook Conspiracy (34 page)

“The villagers were heartbroken when the cookbook was stolen. The first rumor to circulate
implicated Peter, but he had never taken anything so valuable before. He allowed his
rooms to be searched, but the book wasn’t found and the villagers became resigned
to living without it.” Kevin took a sip of champagne, then continued. “Several months
later, my father received a generous contribution to build an irrigation system for
the African town where he’d built his missionary school. The benefactor was anonymous,
and word began to circulate among our townspeople that it was all a bit too coincidental.”

I felt instant guilt for having the same thought pop into my head.

Kevin sighed. “You see, Daddy was always soliciting money. It’s just the way charities
have to operate. So when the cookbook was stolen, some people wondered aloud if Daddy
had taken it and sold it for the money to keep the school running. It was a huge scandal,
as you might expect. The local constable looked into it, but found nothing to pin
the crime on Daddy.”

“Baxter stole it,” Savannah murmured. “And later gave it to me to hide his crime.”

Kevin turned in her chair. “Yes, that’s what it looks like. I don’t blame you, Savannah.
How could you have known?”

“I’m sorry, anyway.” Savannah shook her head. “Baxter managed to use me while destroying
your father’s reputation.”

“Yes,” I said. “I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he started the rumor about your
father.”

Kevin blinked. “I never thought of that. But of course it was him. He had to throw
the guilt elsewhere so it wouldn’t land on him.”

“He was just slimy enough to do it,” I said. “And he probably spread the rumor that
Peter took it, as well.”

Savannah scowled. “He really was a horrible person.”

“Yes, he was.”

This talk of Baxter reminded me of another question I had. “Why did all three of you
go to Le Cordon Bleu together? Peter said it was because Baxter couldn’t think of
anything better to do, so he tagged along. But that can’t be the real reason.”

“It’s not,” Kevin said, chewing her lip as she considered her next words. Then she
said, “I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was thirteen, Baxter wanted to be my
boyfriend. He was always trying to kiss me and I was constantly pushing him away.
Finally I’d had it with his nonsense and began to ridicule him in front of our friends.
I admit it was awful of me.”

“You were just a kid,” I said.

“Yes, but Baxter was furious. I can hardly blame him, because our friends were relentless
with their teasing. Baxter told me I’d regret it, said he’d follow me forever and
make sure I always knew he was watching me. He said he’d ruin my life in ways I couldn’t
understand, but one day I’d figure it out and look back and regret snubbing him.”

I shivered. “That was creepy.”

“Poor Kevin,” Savannah said.

Kevin’s laugh was gruff. “Yes, poor me.”

Savannah’s eyes were focused on her friend. “You really think that’s why he went to
cooking school with you?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “But when he got there, he discovered he was really good at
it. It was the first time in his life he’d received so much positive feedback and
good attention. I was happy for him, honestly, but it was also a relief to finally
get him off my back. Until recently, that is.”

“What happened recently?” I asked.

Kevin pinched her lips together. “He tried to blackmail me.”

Savannah reached out to grab Kevin’s arm. “How?”

“He thought he could extort money from me to keep my father’s so-called crime a secret.
You see, Daddy’s on a short list of people being considered for knighthood. If the
story got out that he’d stolen the book…”

“So Baxter was going to blackmail you to cover up the crime that he committed himself.”
I shouldn’t have been shocked, but I was. “That’s diabolical.”

“The man had balls,” Dalton murmured.

“And not in a good way,” Savannah added. “But, Kevin, you said you weren’t being blackmailed.”

“I wasn’t,” Kevin said. “I told him to take his blackmail scheme and shove it up his
arse.”

“Good girl,” I said.

“But when I saw him open your gift,” she said, her eyes narrowing as she wagged her
finger at Savannah, “I knew in an instant that he’d stolen the book, and yet he’d
been trying to blackmail me at the same time. And I wanted to kill him right then
and there.”

Margot gasped. She had just joined the conversation and heard only the last few words.

“You killed Baxter?” she whispered.

“I didn’t get the chance,” Kevin grumbled. “But I’ll be glad to thank whoever did
it. The man was a plague on the earth.”

I wouldn’t go so far as to thank a cold-blooded killer, but I understood Kevin’s feelings.
“It’s no wonder you wanted that book so badly.”

She nodded. “I need to restore my father’s good reputation and return the book to
the village museum, where it belongs. I want him to get his knighthood. There’s not
a better man in the world than my father.”

By now all the chefs were gathered on both sides of the bar, listening to the end
of Kevin’s story. I just wished I knew which one of them had killed two people and
injured a third.

I touched Kevin’s knee. “Thank you for telling us what happened. I’ll return the cookbook
to you tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Brooklyn.”

We both stood and after another brief hug, I glanced at my watch. It was time to set
our plan into action. Looking at Savannah, I said, “I guess we should start the syllabub.”

She whirled around, gushing to everyone, “I’m so excited for you all to taste Brooklyn’s
crowning achievement.”

Her tone was a little manic. I knew she was jumpy about what we were planning to do,
so I gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s just pudding,” I said to the others. “Nobody’s
in danger of me taking over their job, but I think you’ll like it.”

*   *   *

S
avannah’s phone calls the previous evening had been specifically designed to coax
Colette into cooking tonight. Margot had agreed to assist. It made sense because except
for a side dish or two, they were the only two chefs who hadn’t gotten the chance
to show off their talents.

I hated accusing anyone of the two murders, but it had to be done. Maybe Colette was
innocent, but her locket in Peter’s backpack was too big a clue to go unquestioned.

We had argued for hours the night before about the explanation for Peter having the
locket. And about where Monty fit into the scheme.

Had Colette killed Baxter? Had Peter witnessed her doing it? Doubtful. But I was still
voting that Colette had argued with Baxter and then stabbed him with the knife. Maybe
during the struggle, Baxter had ripped her necklace off and flung it somewhere. Somehow,
Montgomery found the blood-encrusted locket and threatened to tell the police, so
Colette had killed him.

Derek wasn’t certain. He didn’t think a woman would have the strength to shove that
big knife into Baxter’s stomach. But Savannah
had disagreed. Female chefs had to be strong, she’d argued, pointing out that both
Colette and Margot were tall, well-built women.

I continued to try and plot out how Peter had obtained the necklace. Since he was
the first to discover Monty’s body, perhaps he’d found the locket clutched in Monty’s
fist. The locket was shiny and Peter was under a lot of stress, so his kleptomania
kicked in and he took it.

Somehow Colette, who was looking more and more guilty in my eyes, had figured out
that Peter had the locket and she went looking for it. When he tried to stop her from
taking it, she coshed him with the first weapon she’d grabbed from his pile of tools.

Like I said, it was a loose theory. But how else could we explain how Peter had obtained
Colette’s necklace?

Colette was the sturdiest of the four women chefs, so I agreed with Savannah that
Colette had enough strength to jam that big fish knife into Baxter’s gut. And as far
as injecting Montgomery with that rat poisoning, she’d only had to sneak up behind
him to do it.

Was she being blackmailed by Monty or Peter? Was she a cold-blooded killer? Or was
I just overly annoyed with her and willing to peg her with the crime? We would soon
find out.

Standing in Baxter’s kitchen, I glanced at the other chefs. “I’m just going to take
over this little corner to put my syllabub together.” Luckily Savannah had already
claimed the spot for me and had laid out everything I would need, including ten glass
dessert bowls.

Raoul flashed one of his sexy grins at me. “Can I help you with dessert? I am somewhat
of an expert.”

I smiled at him. “I think I have everything under control. I’m sorry I’m invading
your bailiwick tonight.”

“It is my pleasure,” he said, and pointed to a plastic storage container on the counter.
“I took the liberty of making miniature biscotti to accompany your treat.”

“That’s so nice,” I said. “Thank you, Raoul. Biscotti sounds perfect.”

“Raoul!” Colette yelled. “I need you over here.”

He winked at me before rushing off to her side. I figured that famous migraine of
hers was back, because she sounded like a cranky bear.

I peeked at Colette whenever I could and noticed her acting peevish, as usual, but
she had more of an edge this evening. She continually touched her neck, obviously
reaching for the locket that wasn’t there.

A half hour later, I placed the beautifully filled dessert bowls on a large cookie
sheet and carefully slid it onto a shelf in the walk-in refrigerator. My cooking was
done and now I was ready to make trouble.

Colette had made it easy by banishing Raoul from the kitchen until she was finished
preparing the meal. And since Derek’s plan included him keeping an eye on Raoul, he
was gone as well. I didn’t expect him to walk into the kitchen anytime soon, either.
Colette and I were alone at last.

“Can I help you with anything, Colette?” I asked.

She clutched her neck for the umpteenth time, then squeezed her empty hand in frustration.
“No, I doubt you can do anything for me. You should go have a drink until we’re ready
to serve.”

“Oh, I just noticed you’re not wearing that pretty locket you always wear,” I said
innocently.

“So what?” She took off her chef’s hat and pushed her hair back from her forehead.

“What happened to it?”

She let out an exasperated breath. “If I knew what happened to it, I’d be wearing
it.”

“I guess you would.” I leaned against the counter and folded my arms. “So it’s a good
thing we found it.”

“You found…” Her eyes widened. “Where?”

“In Peter’s room.”

“Do you have it? I want it back.”

“I’ll bet you do. The thing is, it’s evidence now.” I shrugged. “Derek is giving it
to the police.”

“No!” She swore under her breath as she sagged against the counter opposite me, looking
defeated for just a moment. But then she rallied. “Look, I really want it back. Can
you tell Derek to give it to me? I—it’s very special. A family heirloom. You know
how it is.”

“I sure do. I wonder how Peter got hold of it?”

“I don’t care. I just need it back.”

“Okay, I’ll talk to Derek. But he’s going to want to know how you lost it and how
Peter found it. See, if it was me, I would just give it back to you, but Derek’s a
law-abiding kind of guy. He likes to know all the details.”

A little too late, she tried to turn on the charm. “Derek seems like a great guy.
You make a cute couple.”

“Thanks.”

She swallowed nervously. “But if Raoul realizes I’ve lost the locket he gave me, I’m
going to be in so much trouble. You understand, right? Can you please get it for me?”

“I’ll try. If you’ll tell me how you lost it, I’ll get it from Derek right away.”

She seemed to be weighing the odds involved in telling me the truth, so I went for
broke. “Did Baxter take it from you, Colette? Was he blackmailing you?”

Her eyes widened. “No!”

“Then how did Peter get hold of it?”

“I don’t know!”

“Did you kill Baxter?”

“What? Are you crazy? No!” She seemed genuinely shocked and I began to doubt my theory
that she had killed him. But she still seemed nervous. She blinked a few times and
her breathing was heavier. “God, no.”

“Okay, just wondering.”

But her face was glowing with sweat. Something had to have occurred between her and
Baxter, and I was determined to find out what. “Tell me what happened, Colette, and
I’ll get your necklace back.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice wavering.

“Okay, then.” I glanced around. “Look, I need to use the ladies’ room so I’ll—”

But she’d been thinking fast. She grabbed the nearest weapon from the counter, a knife,
and pointed it at me. “Get it for me now.”

Oh, crap. What was with these chefs and their damn knives? Was I willing to get myself
sliced up for a stupid glass locket? No. But I wanted to hear the truth from her.
Keep her talking
, I thought.

“If you’re willing to use that knife on me,” I said, “I have to believe that you killed
Baxter.”

“I didn’t!” she said, practically hissing at me.

“And Montgomery,” I added.

“No!” she insisted. “Why would you think I could kill anyone?”

“Because you’re threatening me with a knife and because…Baxter was blackmailing you
for money?”

“That’s ridiculous,” she shouted, but then she hedged. “Well, he tried to, but I told
him to shove it.”

“Because whatever he thought he knew wasn’t true?”

“No, because I didn’t have the money to pay him.”

“Oh.” Good point. I kept a close eye on that sharp knife in her shaky hand. “Why did
he want to blackmail you?”

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because any minute now Raoul is going to walk back in here and wonder what in the
world you’re doing pointing that dangerous knife at me.”