Murder On The Menu: A Romantic Comedy Culinary Cozy Mystery (A Celebrity Mystery) (15 page)

BOOK: Murder On The Menu: A Romantic Comedy Culinary Cozy Mystery (A Celebrity Mystery)
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I glare at Jack. “Nothing happened, Emma. It was just restaurant business.”

She leans back in her chair with another heartfelt sigh. “Which just means it’s something intriguing and you don’t want me to know about it because of my stupid blood pressure.”

Jack and I exchange knowing glances.

“I don’t think I can make tonight to visit them. I’m having a treat, a special meal cooked for me.” Is it my imagination or does a scowl fly across Jack’s face? Just as soon as it appears, it’s gone. Hmm. Interesting.

“Who’s cooking for you then, lovie? Got yourself a young man? Is that who you said was visiting you?” Emma asks.

Jack scowls again. I’m certain of it this time.

“David’s an excellent cook.” I don’t know why I’m choosing my words carefully, leaving out the part about David being the fiancé of my best friend. Actually, I do know. A tiny part of me likes the idea of Jack being jealous. Childish, I know, but after that amazing kiss we shared, well, things between us do now seem to be veering towards complicated. Relationships should be the last thing on my mind at the moment but Jack has got me wondering what it would be like if we did get involved.

“I think we really need to go and see Vanessa tonight.” Jack drops the icepack onto the table. “I asked around and she’s working in the Fellside pub tonight so it’s an ideal chance to talk to her. You do want to clear your name, don’t you?”

Now I feel guilty for goading him. He’s trying to help me. “Of course I do but I’ve made other arrangements.”

Jack shrugs. “Your call. I’m just off to check on the barns,” he says to Emma who nods, clearly knowing what Jack will be checking on out in the barns.

“I think you’ve upset him,” Emma chuckles. “I’ve got to say, I’m surprised. I never pegged Jack for the jealous type. So, who is this David then?”

Feeling chastened, I fiddle with my hands. “I have my best friend Stella visiting and she’s got her fiancé David with her.”

Emma bursts out laughing and then clutches at her baby bump. “Oh, don’t make me laugh! You’re winding Jack up! I love it. Clever girl. Jack’s the kind of guy you need to keep on his toes.”

“He is?”

“Well,” she sobers. “I imagine he is.”

 

By the time I arrive back at Eskdale the storm has arrived with a vengeance. I scuttle from the barn where I’ve tucked Daisy to protect her from the weather and sprint for the kitchen door. Torrential rain bombards Eskdale Top for hour after hour and a heavy mist descends on the surrounding hills, all of which fits perfectly with my mood. I’m worried now that I shouldn’t have played games with Jack. He was helping me out. What if he decides he’s no longer prepared to use his contacts and knowledge to try and solve this case? I can’t risk him doing that.

Stella, David and I are sitting down to a delicious-smelling pasta dish that looks worthy of restaurant fare when the power goes off. Again. Not entirely unexpected, as the rain got heavier and the winds had got higher until they screamed around the house, finding all of the little nooks and crannies through which they’d gleefully squeezed themselves.

Stella drops her fork and lets out a little squeal.

“Don’t panic. I’ve got a torch on the kitchen worktop, just in case.” Twisting round on my chair I fumble along the edge of the countertops until my fingers reach the outline of the torch.

“Does this happen up here often?” David’s voice comes through the darkness.

“Afraid so.” I switch the torch on and set it on the dining table. “There. Sorted.”

“Will it be off for long?” Stella asks, looking nervous.

“Don’t know.” I shrug and pick up another forkful of pasta. “Could be ten minutes, could be ten hours. Don’t worry, I’ve got plenty of candles.”

“Glad I got the dinner cooked before the power went,” David says, unperturbed.

When we finish eating we dump the washing up in the sink for later, then light more candles in the kitchen, hall and living room. I’m just putting extra logs on the fire and thinking how bad the weather is going to be up here in the winter when there’s a loud knock at the back door.

“Who would come all of the way up here in this weather?” Stella asks, a frown clouding her delicate features. I know what she’s thinking – there’s a murderer on the loose and he or she could be knocking at our door right now.

“I think I know who,” I reply, getting to my feet.

Stella grabs my hand. “Even so, in the circumstances, it might be best to just ignore it. Whoever it is, they’ll go away eventually.”

“I can’t ignore it,” I say, easing my hand from hers.

“Well at least get David to answer it instead,” she replies with a pleading edge to her voice. I glance across at David, who doesn’t look too pleased at being volunteered to answer the door in the middle of a storm with a potential killer on the other side of it. Stella beckons for him to get up and go through to the hall. He does so, flashing me a reluctant look. I follow and am standing right next to him when David opens the door to reveal Jack standing outside, huddled into one of those rough and tough all terrain and activity waterproof jackets. He doesn’t look very happy at being greeted by David. His jaw is clenched and there’s a pinched expression on his face. In fact, he ignores David completely and homes in on me.

“Lizzie, just called by to update you on our…” He throws a superior glance at David before saying, “Our little private project.”

I could have been tempted to roll by eyes at his attempt to get one over on David but this is no time for hilarity. Perhaps Jack has news which will clear my name. I cross my fingers behind my back.

“Jack, this is David.” I gesture from one to the other. “David this is Jack, my temporary neighbour.”

David looks suitably relieved to know the man on my doorstep is safe and not a knife-wielding murderer. “Come in.”

Jack steps inside just as Stella appears in the hallway. Even in her jeans and T-shirt she still looks as though she could easily grace a catwalk. I think I detect a flash of confusion in his eyes at the sight of her. He thought I was here alone with David, on some kind of date. Which he interrupted on purpose.

Satisfied he’s not the local serial killer Stella steps forward. “So, you’re the guy. Good to meet you, Jack. I’ve heard a lot about you from Lizzie. She told me how you’re helping clear her name.”

Great. Thanks Stella. Make it sound as though I’ve been talking about him all the time.

“I’m the guy? Well, if you say so. And you are?” he asks as he shakes water from his coat.

“I’m Stella, an old friend of Lizzie’s, and this is David, my fiancé. It’s lovely to meet you, Jack.”

The frown which had been lurking around Jack’s eyes since he first walked in suddenly lifts and he’s all smiles. “Sorry to burst in on your evening like this but I needed to talk to Lizzie about something urgent.”

Stella waves a no-bother hand at him. “David and I will retire to the living room to finish our drinks and give you two some privacy.” She grabs David’s hand and tugs him back towards the lounge.

“They seem nice,” Jack says, inclining his head in the direction of my retreating friends.

“They are.”

“Friends from London, huh?”

“Yes. So, what’s this urgent thing you need to talk to me about?” Hope rises up inside me. Has he solved the case? Am I a free woman again?

“Vanessa is about to go on holiday to Spain with her fiancé. We need to go and talk to her tonight, before they head off to Manchester Airport straight after her shift at the pub finishes.”

Glancing towards the living room I shake my head. “I can’t just abandon my guests!” I whisper.

A moment later Stella pops her head around the hallway entrance. “It’s been a long day thanks to being up so early to drive up to Cumbria so David and I thought we’d head up to bed and try and catch up on some sleep. Hope that’s OK?”

Clearly I didn’t whisper quietly enough because Stella must have heard me. Now, she’s making excuses so that I can slip off with Jack to quiz Vanessa.

“Of course it’s OK.” I can’t really say anything else, now can I?

“Get your coat then,” Jack says, already heading for the door. “It’s bucketing it down out there.”

“I need to get changed first. Give me a few minutes.” I make a dash for the stairs and, once in my room, grab a sweater, pulling it on over a T-shirt. Stella taps on the half open door just as I’m swapping my house jeans for my smarter black ones.

“He’s very cute, Lizzie,” she says with a mischievous grin.

I frown, scrambling through my wardrobe for a pair of boots. “Forget it, Stella.”

She leans against the door trying, unsuccessfully, to look innocent. “What? I’m just saying, he’s really good looking. He’s got a touch of the James Bonds about him, don’t you think? So, is this outing to do with your investigation or is it just an excuse to get you alone?”

I perch on the edge of the bed and haul on my boots. “It’s definitely to do with clearing my name. There’s nothing going on between us. I’m not looking to get involved.”

Stella grins. “Methinks the lady doth protest too much. So, you like him, then?”

“No!”

“Well, he likes you.”

I stop doing up my boots and look up at her. “What?”

“Oh, come on, it’s obvious,” Stella replies. “He’s definitely got his eye on you.”

“Don’t be silly. Of course he hasn’t,” I protest.

“You know he likes you, and you like him too. Don’t kid yourself.”

“What makes you even think that?”

“You must have noticed how his whole demeanour changed once he realised David is with me, not you. He was jealous at first, and once I introduced David as my fiancé he was a happy boy again.”

I shake my head at her, though secretly I’m pleased she spotted it too. It wasn’t just my overactive imagination.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

I hate driving over the mountain pass to reach Delamere. It’s one of the reasons many of the locals aren’t that keen on working in the tourist hotspot. To get there from here you have to go over this road. It’s steep, windy and there are knee-wobblingly scary sections with sheer drops.

“I said I was happy to drive the Land Rover over here,” Jack says as I cringe at yet another tight bend.

“I get car sick on this road if I’m a passenger,” I reply, eyes firmly focussed on the road.  It’s raining again and up at this elevation it’s pretty misty too. A car sweeps round the bend heading in the opposite direction and its headlights dazzle me. I blink, refocus and grip Daisy’s steering wheel even more tightly. I dip the clutch and slip her into another gear to help with the climb ahead. This is the last bit up to the top of the pass, then it’s an equally scary journey back down the other side, the road dipping and twisting alarmingly.

“Phew! That’s half of it done.” I sigh with relief and loosen my death-grip on the wheel as we finally reach the top and the narrow road flattens out briefly. “Now, it’s downhill all the way to Delamere.”

As we drop back down the mist lifts and we’re soon on the outskirts of the little town. Much as expected, there’s no power cut over here. As a walking and climbing mecca, this area is busy all year round. Cars line the streets as I navigate the one way system towards the Fellside pub where Vanessa serves pints of beer and pie and chips to locals and tourists alike. Hikers, having ditched their backpacks and boots, are bustling around on the pavements trying to decide on where to eat. Basic bed and breakfasts sit beside their posh boutique counterparts. Several grand hotels sit in generous grounds on the road which leads down to the lakefront.

“I haven’t been here for ages,” Jack says as we queue in the traffic along the waterfront.

There’s no sign of rain here. That’s Cumbria for you – microclimates all over the place. 

Eventually the Fellside comes into view and I slip Daisy into a parking slot much further along the road.

“Do you think Vanessa will be able to help us?” I ask as we stroll back towards the entrance of the noisy pub.

“Hopefully.” Jack’s hand reaches for mine, and my breath catches in my throat. “Let’s go down to the waterfront first,” he suggests.

I nod and smile, enjoying the feel of my hand in his.

It’s dark and cold but plenty of people obviously have the same idea as Jack. A busker is singing a folk song and strumming a guitar, a small crowd gathering to listen to him. The strings of white fairy lights hanging above the wooden docks where the trip boats ferry tourists out onto the lake are dancing in the stiff breeze coming off the water. With perfect timing, one of the benches with a view of the water becomes free, its previous occupants having finished the fish and chips supper they were eating and dumped the wrappers in a nearby bin. I tug at Jack’s hand and we speed up to snaffle the seat before anybody else can.

“There’s something magical about this place,” Jack says, still holding my hand, snuggling closer on the bench. “Don’t you think?”

“Yes, there is. Everybody else seems to think so too.”

“Why were you trying to make me jealous with that whole dinner with David thing earlier?” he asks suddenly, surprising me with the U-turn in conversation.

“I wasn’t,” I bluster.

“Yes, you were,” he replies, not moving away or releasing my hand. His tone is matter-of-fact, not admonishing or smug.

“Sorry, I was being stupid.” I stare out into the darkness of the lake, beyond the tourists and the fairy lights.

“No need to apologise.” He leans in closer, almost whispering in my ear. “I just wondered why you felt the need to make me jealous.”

I swallow, not really knowing how to answer him.  He leans closer still and softly nuzzles my cheek and my hair. I catch my breath.

“I suppose with all of this investigation business and the stress and worry, I was grumpy and looking to pick a fight. After we, er, kissed, the other day, I thought maybe there was something there but then, well,” I pause, feeling my way into this awkward conversation.

“Then?” he prompts, his lips brushing my cheek.

“Well, it can’t happen, can it?” I push on, forcing the battered romantic in me down in favour of being realistic and practical.

He moves away from me, frowning. “Why not?”

“Because I can’t allow myself to get involved right now, not with all of this Armand thing hanging over me all of the time.” I scoot round on the bench to face him. “You understand? Plus, you’ll be having to leave soon, heading back to London and your work with the agency. That’s where your life is. Mine’s up here, at Eskdale. It could never work out with us.”

“I didn’t peg you for being quite such a pessimist,” he replies, sitting upright, a flicker of something I’m tempted to call disappointment in his eyes.

Silence falls between us, and I watch a family walk past, the children skipping with excitement at whatever holiday treat is lined up for them.

“I don’t usually do this, you know,” Jack says breaking the silence. “Get involved with a woman I’m working on a case for. It’s generally a bad idea, but with you it’s different.”

Hmm. Is he just spinning me a line?  I want to believe him, but at the same time I know it’s probably all just asking for trouble. If he manages to clear my name then he’ll be whizzing off to London and I’ll be up here, regretting getting involved. My head is all over the place at the moment.

“When we first met and you joked you were Catwoman, it sparked my interest. A woman who makes me laugh… I love that.” He rubs the stubble on his chin thoughtfully. “I hate to admit it, but you’ve got me a bit confused. We flirt a little, we get on pretty well, we share a great kiss. Then you retreat. Then you try to make me jealous.”

“I like you, Jack but in the circumstances you’ve got to admit it’s probably best if we don’t let things between us go any further.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “Nope, sorry, I’m not agreeing with you on that front. I think you’re just making excuses because you’re scared. What happened with your previous relationship to make you that way?”

I get to my feet, irritated now. I don’t want to think about the past and Adam. “We should get going to the Fellside and have our chat with Vanessa.”

“Sure.” He shrugs. “Let’s get back to the investigation - safer territory, huh?”

Unsurprisingly, there’s no hand holding on the way to the Fellside. Neither of us speaks. I need Jack to solve this case and keep me from being thrown into a police cell. I need him on my side, but now he’s annoyed with me because of this relationship-that-can’t-be thing between us.

The Fellside is buzzing with people and music. We make our way towards the bar but then I spot Vanessa clearing some glasses on a table so we detour in her direction.

“Hi!” I say, forcing a smile. “I’d forgotten you work here.”

“Lizzie, fab to see you again!” Vanessa’s eyes swivel in Jack’s direction.

“This is my friend Jack,” I say. Well, what else am I going to call him? We’ve just established that date or boyfriend are firmly off the agenda and I can hardly introduce him as my private investigator.

Vanessa nods a greeting at him. “Can I get you something to drink? If my boss sees me chatting she’ll read me the riot act for sure.”

Spotting an opportunity to steer the conversation in a suitable direction, I dive right in. “Wow, she sounds as bad as Armand was.”

“Armand. Oh, I heard on the news! I can’t believe somebody actually stabbed him. That’s horrible! How are things at the Veggies? Is everyone, like, totally freaked out and stuff?”

“Very much so. I wanted a quick word with you if I could, about Armand and what we talked about that time with Marla.” I raise an eyebrow. “You know, that stuff about him being so friendly.”

“I know what you mean, Lizzie.” She looks at Jack again.

“It’s all right, we can talk in front of Jack.”

She flicks her jet black hair over her shoulder and frowns. “Why do you want to talk about that, anyway? It’s over and done with as far as I’m concerned. He was creepy and a pain but I’d never wish him dead. I never told the police about it if that’s what you’re thinking. Never even told my fiancé Todd. Armand was a flirt, but I don’t think he’d have pushed things much further than he did. I’d not call him harmless, but I kind of felt before I left the Veggies that it was all a bit of a show. I reckon he was hot with someone.”

“What makes you say that?” Jack cuts in.

Her eyes flick towards the bar, presumably looking for her boss. She tilts her head towards a corner of the pub and we follow her.

“I’m out of sight here,” she explains with a little sigh of relief. “Anyway, like I was saying, I think he was trying to get back with his wife. I overheard him on the phone one night and it sounded like he was talking to her. He was all lovey-dovey, and he was apologising and saying how he wanted to try again and how he was sure they could make it work this time.”

Bryony and Armand were attempting to patch things up?

“Vanessa!” A female voice bellows across the bar.

“Hell, that’ll be dragon woman, spotted I’ve gone missing. Sorry, got to go!”

Before I can say another word she races off towards the bar area. “That’s that, then. Vanessa hasn’t talked to the authorities.”  I sigh, feeling disheartened. “Let’s go home.”

Jack is still giving off silent treatment vibes as Daisy climbs back up the road, away from Delamere, towards the dreaded mountain pass. Up here the earlier mist has become fog and the drizzle become a downpour. I concentrate on my driving, cutting out the weather, the trickiness of the terrain and the unhappy Jack sitting beside me. All of my attention needs to be on the road so, in a way, it’s good we’re not chattering away to each other, making me distracted. We reach the top of the pass and I mentally prepare myself for the descent. There are no other vehicles around and no houses or farms up here. It’s bleak and empty and unforgiving. My foot hovers over Daisy’s brake pedal as we begin to curve our way back down the other side of the fells towards Amswick. A road sign warns me there’s a sharp right hand bend combined with a steep drop up ahead. Daisy’s gathering speed as the gradient increases. My foot presses down on the brake but the bend still seems to be coming up too fast.

“I’m no backseat driver, Lizzie but I think you need to hit the brakes sharpish,” Jack says, and I can hear a flicker of concern in his voice.

I push down harder on the pedal this time, growing increasingly worried. There’s no response and Daisy speeds up even further.

“Jack!” I squeal, quickly realising a sulky passenger and the prospect of being convicted of murder are not my only worries. “The brakes aren’t working!”

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