Eggs Benedict Arnold (47 page)

“
J Brand,
”
corrected Suzanne.

“
And something called Spanx,
”
said Sam, looking puzzled.
“
I
assume Spanx are also some kind of fashion item?
”

“
Uh ... yeah,
”
said Suzanne, deciding this might not be the ideal time to elaborate.

“
That Carmen Copeland
’
s quite a go-getter,
”
remarked Sam.
“
Though I
’
m not convinced she can wave her magic
wand and turn all the women of Kindred into fashion plates
overnight.
”

“
She
’
s convinced she can,
”
said Suzanne.

Sam leaned back in his chair.
“
I also heard something
about Carmen making an offer on the Driesden and Draper
Funeral Home.
”

“
That
’
s the rumor around town.
”

Sam looked interested.
“
I got
the
feeling it
’
s more than just a rumor.
”

“
Not sure,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Carmen
’
s pretty sly about getting a buzz going
—over
anything.
But if she wants the
property bad enough, I imagine she figures now
’
s the time
to take advantage of the situation.
”

“
The murders,
”
said Sam.

Suzanne nodded.
“
Sure. With George Draper still being
a suspect.
”

“
And I heard Earl Stensrud, too,
”
said Sam.
“
And . . . well, I probably shouldn
’
t say any
th
ing, because she
’
s a friend of yours ...
”

“
Missy Langston,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Who now works for
Carmen at Alchemy.
”

“
Does this whole murder conundrum strike you as being
slightly incestuous?
”
asked Sam

Suzanne thought for a moment, then said,
“
A little. But
that
’
s pretty much the small-town way.
”
She peered at him.
“
You didn
’
t grow up in a small town, did you?
”

Sam shook his head.
“
Not really. Lynn. Outside Boston.
”

“
In a small town everyone is always slightly involved with everyone else,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Or at least they think they have a pretty good bead on them.
”

“
One big happy family,
”
said Sam.

“
Oh, there are always a few enemies tossed in for good
measure,
”
added Suzanne.
“
Although, for the life of me, I
’
m
not sure who had it in for Ozzie Driesden. He always seemed
like a pretty decent guy. Got along with everyone.
”

“
You
’
re talking about motive,
”
said Sam.

“
Sure.
”

“
What about the kid who worked for him? The kid they
found hanged?
”

“
Bo Becker,
”
filled in Suzanne.

“
Did he hate Ozzie? Or have his own enemies?
”

“
No clue,
”
said Suzanne.

Sam stared at her.
“
That
’
s what you
’
ve been looking for,
isn
’
t it? Clues.
”

“
Excuse me?
”

“
The rumor mill
’
s been churning overtime about you,
too,
”
said Sam with a laugh.
“
I understand you
’
re the odds-
on favorite to solve the two murders.
”

“
Oh, I don
’
t think so,
”
said Suzanne. She grabbed the linen napkin from her lap and blotted her lips.

“
But you
’
ve done it before,
”
said Sam.
“
Solved a murder, I mean.
”

Suzanne let a hand flutter, as if to say,
not really.

“
Come on,
”
he urged her.

“
Stumbled on an answer is more like it,
”
she finally admitted.

“
But you
’
ve been nosing around,
”
said Sam.

Suzanne
’
s shoulders lifted half an inch.
“
Some.
”

“
More than
some,
”
said Sam.
“
You were the one who found Becker
’
s body. So ... ?
”
He waggled his fingers in a
friendly
“
gimme
”
gesture.

“
I
’
m not any closer to solving those two cases than Sheriff Doogie is,
”
said Suzanne.

“
But you must have a theory ...
”

Suzanne picked up the menus and handed one to Sam.
“
The Muscovy duck is excellent,
”
she told him.
“
So is the
standing rib roast. But watch out for the hanger steak; it can
be a little on the tough side.
”

“
I
’
m just going to keep asking you,
”
Sam told her.
“
And
maybe if I ply you with enough wine...
”
He grinned at her.

“
Maybe,
”
she replied, her mouth twitching at the corners.

While Sam perused his menu, Suzanne glanced about the dining room. The wood-paneled walls with brass sconces lent a warm, cozy feeling. A fire crackled in the large stone fireplace that practically dominated an entire
wall. Deer antlers and a shelf of antique ceramic beer steins
contributed to a German
schloss-like
atmosphere.

She and Walter had enjoyed their share of dinners here, of course. And had once spent a night upstairs at the B and
B. There
’
d been an antique sleigh bed with billowing feath
erbeds, as well as a small gas fireplace in the corner of their room. Suzanne let loose a small sigh. Just one of a
thousand
good times,
relegated now to that quadrant of her brain reserved for special, cherished memories. Memories
she could pull out and peruse at will. Of Walter. Her par
ents, long gone now. A few uncles and aunts. A dear friend,
Gayle, who had succumbed to breast cancer.

“
Suzanne?
”
A large man wearing a chef
’
s jacket and
towering white hat suddenly hovered at her elbow.

She looked up, blinked once.
“
Bernie? Hi!
”
she exclaimed.
“
How are you?
”

Bernie Affolter, the head chef at Kopell
’
s, leaned down
and brushed his stubbly cheek against her smooth one.
“
Great to see you here. It
’
s been . . . ages.
”
He grinned again, this time in Sam
’
s direction.
“
Hello.
”

Suzanne made hasty introductions.
“
Sam Hazelet, this is Bernie Affolter, head chef.
”

“
Pleased to meet you,
”
said Sam, extending a hand.
“
We were just going over your menu. Everything looks terrific.
”

“
Mind a few suggestions?
”
he asked.

“
That
’
d be great,
”
said Sam.
“
Direct from the man who knows.
”

“
The Copper River salmon is fresh, never frozen,
”
said Bernie.
“
And the Muscovy duck is our specialty.
”

“
I
’
ll keep that in mind,
”
said Sam.

“
And tonight we
’
re doing grilled rib eye with caramel
ized onions and roast carrots,
”
added Bernie.
“
So, Suzanne,
”
he continued,
“
when are you going to open your own restaurant?
”

“
I already did,
”
said Suzanne with a laugh.

“
I mean a fine dining place,
”
said Bernie.
“
That
’
s al
ways been her dream,
”
he confided to Sam.

Sam looked interested.
“
Is that so?
”

“
More of a pipe dream, I think,
”
said Suzanne.
“
Still going to be a couple years before the Cackleberry Club is humming along on its own.
”

“
Hey,
”
said Bernie,
“
that recipe for crab chowder you gave me?
”

Suzanne nodded.

“
When I put it on the menu last month,
”
said Bernie,
“
we sold out every night.
”

“
Wow,
”
said Sam.

“
I
’
m thinking now,
”
said Bernie,
“
that I might substitute
lobster for the crab and add a little sherry.
”

“
No reason why you couldn
’
t,
”
said Suzanne, thrilled her recipe had been so popular.

When Bernie returned to the kitchen, Sam gave Suzanne
a mischievous smile.
“
I didn
’
t know you were a foo
di
e
.
”