Authors: Ellie Alexander
Tags: #Fiction, #Mystery & Detective, #Women Sleuths, #Cozy, #Amateur Sleuth
Thirty minutes in the pressure cooker and the beef would taste like we’d slow-cooked it for hours. I usually prefer to cook the old-fashioned way—low and slow. That’s how we make our stews at Torte. We start in the early morning hours while most of Ashland is still in a silent slumber. By the time customers roll in for lunch, our stews are thick with flavor. But in situations like this where we were crunched for time and responsible for presenting meals and snacks every few hours, I was thrilled to use the pressure cooker.
“What about Whitney?” Sterling asked. He had finished buttering the bread and walked to the fridge. He removed blocks of white cheddar and Swiss cheese. We decided on two open-faced sandwiches for lunch. Sticking with the comfort theme, we were going traditional with a grilled ham and Swiss with honey Dijon mustard, and a roast beef and sharp cheddar with our own version of yellow mustard.
“What about her?” I added the carrots and celery to the onions, which had turned translucent.
“She had a motive, right? Tony messed up the alcohol order, made it sound like it was her fault and then he hit on her.”
“He was hitting on every woman here.” I stuck out my tongue. “I guess that makes me a suspect, too.”
“Come to think of it, I was going to ask you where you were last night.” Sterling winked. “It’s pretty convenient that you just happen to stumble upon his body, if you ask me.”
“Stumble—right.” I shuddered. “Actually that raises a good point. I don’t think there’s any way a woman could have done it?”
“Are you going all sisterhood—female power—on me?”
“No. That’s it. Power. How could a woman have physically lifted Tony’s body into the freezer?”
Sterling stopped slicing cheese and held up the knife. “Well played, Jules. Tony was a big guy. Forget ruling out just the women. Not many men could lift him, either.”
“Could you?” I wrinkled my brow.
“Doubtful.” Sterling shook his head. “I was wondering about Dean Barnes. He and Tony got into it last night, but the guy’s in his sixties. Tony must have weighed at least two-twenty. It would take a really strong guy to lift that much weight.”
“Tony said Dean was following him around. I wonder what he meant by that? He cut Dean off at the bar yesterday, broke his wine glass, and soaked him with wine. But that’s a stretch—killing someone for spilling on you? Yikes.”
“I’d be in deep trouble. I spilled a woman’s coffee last week at Torte.” He gave me a sheepish grin. “I comped her drink of course.”
“Of course.” I smiled. “What if whoever killed him had an accomplice? Two people could have lifted him, don’t you think?”
Sterling nodded and returned to slicing the cheddar cheese. “Probably. Yeah, I think so.”
I tried to imagine what it would be like to lift a dead body. I had enough trouble lifting a ten-pound sack of potatoes. I couldn’t imagine the strength it would take to not only move Tony, but lift his dead weight into the freezer. The killer had to be a man. I ran through the men at the lodge—there were two hefty board members whom I hadn’t met, but who had both consumed multiple helpings of our buttered mashed potatoes last night. Lance, like me, was thin and lanky—no way did he have the strength. Gavin certainly did, as did Carlos, but that was ridiculous. Carlos was no killer.
After I finished sautéing the vegetables for the stew, I dredged the beef in flour, salt, and pepper, poured olive oil into the pressure cooker and turned it on high. I added the beef and let it brown. Once it had seared on all sides, I added the beef stock and secured the lid. Now all I had to do was sit back and let the pressure cooker work its magic.
When it started to sizzle, I would lower the heat. In the meantime, I needed to peel and boil potatoes. While I scrubbed the potatoes with a vegetable brush I replayed everything that happened last night. There wasn’t a single person he hadn’t offended. That made everyone a suspect. I wished that the phone lines weren’t down. Thomas would know what to do.
Lunch prep was seamless with Sterling’s help. He layered thinly sliced meat and cheese on the buttered bread. We’d toast the sandwiches right before lunch was served. They would only take a few minutes in the hot oven. While I finished peeling potatoes, he assembled a tray of condiments, spicy mustards, mayo, three kinds of lettuce, tomatoes, red onions, and our famous Torte pickles that Mom canned this summer.
The kitchen smelled of hearty beef and vegetables as the storm raged outside. I was thankful for the warmth of the wood fire. Snow and wind battered the windows. The lights continually flickered, but—knock on wood—they came back on. I decided it was time to get moving on the cookies, not only because lunch would be served in twenty minutes, but because I wanted them to bake before the power went out. I’d never baked cookies in a wood-fired oven and I didn’t want to try today.
The recipe I was using for double-chocolate cookies was extremely versatile. I started with butter, eggs, sugar, vanilla, and then sifted Dutch cocoa, flour, and baking soda. I incorporated the ingredients together until the dough was creamy. At Torte, we add a variety of chocolate chunks and nuts to the cookie batter. For Lance’s guests, I added both dark and milk chocolate chips. Once the cookies had cooled, I would spread on cream cheese frosting and dust them with more cocoa.
I scooped round balls of the dough onto cookie trays. As I slid the first tray into the oven, there was a soft knock on the kitchen door. “Come on in,” I called. It was probably Lance coming to check on how close we were to being ready to serve his hungry guests. They had been meeting in the dining room all morning. Sterling and I couldn’t help but overhear their lively debate about the lineup of plays and Lance’s new plan for raising more “funds and friends” as he said. I was surprised he was knocking. That wasn’t his style.
I nearly dropped the second tray of cookies on the floor as the door to the kitchen swung open. Thomas stood in the doorway. “Jules, I thought we’d find you in here.”
“Thomas!” I shoved the tray into the oven and ran over to hug him. His navy Ashland City Police jacket was soaked with snow. I didn’t care. I threw my arms around him, and then released him. “Wait.” I looked at him with disbelief. “What are you doing here?”
He chuckled and brushed wet snow from his shoulders. “Um. I heard there was a murder.”
I punched him in the arm. His jacket was cold to the touch. “Ha ha, very funny. I mean how did you get up here? I thought all the roads were closed.”
“I have my ways.” He shook snow from his sandy hair.
“Seriously, Thomas.”
His face turned serious. “The Professor and I left as soon as you called. The roads from Medford are closed, but we came up Dead Indian Road.”
“You drove Dead Indian Road in this?” I pointed to the window.
Sterling whistled. “Impressive. That was a crazy drive with no snow.”
Thomas took off his coat and stepped closer to the brick oven. “Tell me about it. We took the Range Rover and even with four-wheel drive it took us this long to get here.”
“When did you leave?”
“Right after you called.”
“But that was hours ago.”
“I know.” Thomas held his hands in front of the hot bricks. “We didn’t go much more than ten miles an hour.”
“Where’s the Professor?”
“He’s assessing the crime scene. I promised him a warm coffee.” Thomas glanced to the coffeepot. “Any chance we can get a thermos of your brew?”
“Of course.” I took his coat and hung it on a hook near the door. “Let me make you a fresh pot.”
“As long as it’s quick. I told the Professor I’d be right back to help him survey and bag the crime scene, but honestly I’m kind of glad to get a minute to catch my breath. My heart rate spiked just walking from the marina up here. This altitude is a killer.” He placed his hand over his heart and breathed slowly. “Sorry, bad choice of words.”
I rolled my eyes and dumped beans into the grinder. “Coffee will just take a minute. Sterling, will you pop a couple sandwiches in for them, too? Roast beef and cheddar or ham and Swiss?” I asked Thomas.
“Don’t go to any trouble,” Thomas said.
“It’s no trouble. I promise. You have no idea how happy I am to see you.”
Thomas pretended to be embarrassed. “Aw, Jules, you say that to all the men in your life, don’t you? But in that case, I’ll take a ham and Swiss if you’re offering.”
Sterling placed one of the sandwiches into the ovens. I checked the cupboards to see if there were any thermoses.
“So you want to give me the quick rundown?” Thomas pulled a stool to the island and turned on his iPad. He and the Professor were a unique combination. The Professor took all his notes by hand in a Moleskin notebook. Thomas is a product of the digital age, and uses his iPad and phone for everything.
I held up a finger as I pulsed the beans in the grinder. “Hang on one sec,” I called over the sound of grinding beans.
With the coffee going, I joined Thomas at the island. “I still can’t believe you made it.”
“Jules, come on, I would drive anywhere for you.” He held my gaze.
Uh-oh. My stomach sank. I was thrilled to see Thomas, but I hadn’t considered one minor glitch. Carlos. Thomas and Carlos had never met. I wasn’t sure how either of them were going to react. Thomas and I were old friends. At least that’s what I thought we were. I’d been confused about my feelings since I returned home, and even a bit jealous when Thomas showed interest in a fellow chef who was in town for a baking competition. It had been easy to fall back into old habits with Thomas. His slightly goofy attitude always made me smile. He knew how to lighten my mood.
We picked up where we left off a decade ago—as friends. He had hinted that he had regrets about our breakup after high school, but nothing more. Mom thought he was still in love with me, but I think it’s more that he’s happy to have a familiar friend back in town.
“And for a murder investigation, right?” I punched him in the shoulder again.
“Ouch.” He rubbed his shoulder then grinned. “Right. You got me. Okay, on to business. What time did you discover the body?”
I told Thomas everything about finding Tony, the timeline Sterling and I had worked out, and gave him a brief rundown of the guests. He listened attentively and took notes on his iPad while I spoke. A couple times he stopped me and asked for clarification, like whether or not there were footprints near the marina. I didn’t remember seeing footprints, but then again I wasn’t paying attention on my way down to the marina and I wanted to get out of there as fast as I could after I found Tony.
The coffeepot beeped.
“That’s my cue.” Thomas clicked the iPad off and stood.
Someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned to see Gavin Allen standing in the doorway. He wore a heavy parka with the Lake of the Woods logo embroidered on the front pocket. “Everything okay in here?” he asked, stepping into the kitchen.
“We’re fine,” I replied. “Would you like some coffee?”
Gavin shook his head. “No time.” He patted his tool belt. “Too much to do out there, but Mercury asked me to check on you.”
“We’re good.” I pointed to Thomas. “In fact, we’re really good now that the police are here.”
“I heard.” Gavin tipped his fishing cap to Thomas. “It’s back to the cold for me. Holler if you need anything.” He backed out the door.
Sterling removed the toasted ham and Swiss from the oven while I filled a thermos with coffee. Thomas put his coat back on, and stored his iPad in the inside pocket to shelter it from the storm.
“Is it safe to walk down to the marina?” I asked, handing him the stainless steel thermos.
Thomas shrugged. “I guess so. I’ll watch for falling trees.”
“That’s not funny.” I wrinkled my brow. “It’s dangerous out there.”
“I know, Jules. I’ll be fine. It’s like a couple hundred feet away.”
Sterling wrapped two large pieces of sandwich into tinfoil and gave it to Thomas.
“Thanks,” Thomas said, holding up the sandwich and thermos. “The Professor and I will need to take your official statements later, so don’t go anywhere.” Thomas grinned.
For the first time since I’d found Tony I felt a sense of relief. Thomas and the Professor were on the case. They could handle it from here. All I needed to do was bake, and deal with Carlos.
“Things could get interesting around here.” Sterling gave me a knowing look as if he was reading my mind.
I played dumb. “What do you mean?”
Sterling nodded at the door. “I think you know exactly what I mean.”
“Do you think it’s that bad?” I winced.
“I think you have two guys who have it bad for you.”
“Thomas and I are just friends.” I could hear the hesitation in my voice.
“Sure you are.” Sterling nodded, mocking approval. “I look at all of my friends like that.”
I sighed. Was he right? Was Mom right? Could Thomas still be in love with me? No way. If anything he was in love with the idea of me. The old me. The high school me. I wasn’t the same Juliet that I’d been in high school. So much had changed since then. I’d changed. I didn’t want to go back.
“Thomas and I are just friends,” I said again to Sterling. “
Friends
.”
Sterling caught my eye and shook his head, giving me a look like he was trying to warn me about something.
“What? You don’t believe me?”
“Believe what?” Carlos’s thick Spanish accent sounded behind me.
I jumped.
Carlos stepped into the kitchen. “Who is your friend?”
“No, no, it’s nothing.” I turned to face him. “We were just talking about my friend from high school, Thomas. I think I told you about him. He’s a detective.”
“I do not know that name,” Carlos said.
“It doesn’t matter.” I waved him off. “He and the Professor made it up here. They’re going to investigate Tony’s murder. I was just telling Sterling that I’m so relieved to have them here.”
Carlos nodded, but I noticed that he locked his eyes on Sterling, looking for some kind of reaction. Sterling busied himself with the sandwiches. “You want these in the oven, right, Jules?”
“Yep. Everything else should be ready to go.” I smiled at him in thanks and walked to the stove to check on the stew. The pressure cooker beeped. I needed to wait a few minutes before taking off the lid, otherwise a blast of potentially dangerous steam would be released.