Death of a Cookbook Author

by Lee Hollis

  “Well, then we need to find out if that pipe you found at the crime scene belonged to Conrad or somebody else and then we will know for sure.”

  “No, we don’t, because Lex Bansfield is not a cold-blooded killer. He’s a good man. I know him intimately . . .”

  Bruce’s scowl said it all.

  Hayley knew it was important at this point to revise her last statement.

  “I know him well.”

  Bruce took this in, appeared at first to be satisfied, but then he just couldn’t help himself. “How intimately?”

  Chapter 21

  Bar Harbor’s Fourth of July celebration is world renowned for having been voted first in the nation by the Today show and ranked in the top ten in the United States by National Geographic. Every year the town teems with tourists from all over the world. The Fourth is packed with events starting with a sunrise blueberry pancake breakfast, followed by a craft fair, the famous Independence Day parade, a seafood festival, the YMCA annual lobster race, live music in Agamont Park, a free concert by the Bar Harbor Town Band in the Village Green, and finally, the spectacular colorful fireworks display over scenic Frenchman Bay.

  Fourth of July was always one of Hayley’s favorite days of the year, and she was a bit melancholy that she had already missed most of the events due to her commitment to spending the weekend at Penelope Janice’s estate to help out with her TV show, not to mention dealing with the fallout from the hostess’s husband taking a shocking dive to his death off a steep cliff and a purposely set fire that had left the life of a young woman hanging in the balance.

  By sundown, Hayley, Bruce, and all of the other guests who were still gathered and thankfully accounted for at the Seal Harbor property were exhausted from all that had transpired during the previous few days, and were in desperate need of a break from being cooped up and endlessly questioned by the police.

  Hayley was amazed that Gerard, Tristan, and Carol had not already bolted the island at this point, but all of them were career TV professionals.

  At a somber cocktail party earlier that evening, Penelope apologized for any trauma she had caused them. When she had invited them to join her for her Fourth of July special, she hardly had expected such dramatic and heartbreaking events to unfold.

  Penelope graciously encouraged everyone to head into town and enjoy the fireworks display. She even had Clara pack individual picnic baskets for them all, stocked with expensive bottles of wine, imported cheeses, and gourmet crackers to enjoy on the grassy knoll above the town pier, the perfect spot to get the best view of the fireworks.

  When Tristan asked if she would be attending the fireworks with them, Penelope fought back tears as she nodded, promising to join them just as soon as she could. But first she was on her way to the hospital to check on Lena, praying her condition had improved from earlier in the day.

  Hayley rode with Bruce into town, and they had to park the car at her house a mile away from the pier because the streets were jam-packed with people and there was nowhere in the vicinity to drive, let alone park. Bruce carried their picnic basket as they wove their way through the crowd swarming down Main Street toward the pier. They were lucky to find a small patch of free grass to set their basket down and unfurl a small wool blanket to sit on that Hayley had grabbed from a chest in her bedroom.

  A few locals waved as they passed by, surprised to see Hayley and Bruce together, sitting side by side on a blanket, unpacking their wine and cheese. It certainly appeared to everyone that the two of them were on a date, and Hayley had no doubt in her mind that this little romantic scene would get a lot of local tongues wagging.

  Suddenly Bruce threw an arm around Hayley’s shoulder and drew her in close to him. The move startled her and she was about to shake free when she realized Carol Kay was sauntering by, and Bruce was just trying to play up the fact that they were supposed to be a couple.

  Carol gave them a tight smile and a quick nod and continued on her way.

  Hayley looked around for Gerard and Tristan, but couldn’t see them in the crowd. The grassy knoll was getting so congested it was hard to even move.

  Bruce uncorked a bottle and poured some merlot into two plastic wineglasses that had been packed in the picnic basket. He handed one to Hayley. He toasted her, trying to clink glasses, but the plastic didn’t make much of a sound.

  “To us,” he said, grinning.

  “Shut up, Bruce.”

  “Kiss me.”

  “What?”

  “Penelope’s on her way over here. Kiss me.”

  “No!”

  “Come on, Hayley. We have to keep up appearances as long as we’re both still staying at the estate.”

  Hayley sighed and leaned in and kissed him very lightly, their lips barely touching.

  Bruce quickly snagged her by the neck and kept her face mashed up against his. It had to be the least romantic kiss she had ever experienced.

  So why did it make her heart flutter for the briefest of moments?

  When Bruce finally released her, she was flushed and fuming, but covered and smiled as Penelope approached.

  Hayley also noticed their boss Sal and his wife sitting on a nearby blanket. Sal clutched a beer can in his hammy fist, slack-jawed at the sight of Hayley and Bruce smooching in public. His wife whispered frantically into his ear as she pointed at them. To their left were the Reverend and Mrs. Staples, also with stunned expressions on their faces.

  This fake romance was causing quite a stir.

  Penelope knelt down near the edge of their blanket and checked her watch. “It’s just after nine. The fireworks should be starting in a few minutes.”

  “Sit down and join us,” Hayley offered, trying to make more room for her.

  “No, I never like to be a third wheel. And besides, Hayley, you’ve been working very hard this weekend. You deserve some snuggle time with your man here and enjoy the fireworks without me around.”

  Bruce rubbed his nose on Hayley’s shoulder like a loyal puppy dog.

  Hayley fought hard not to laugh at his goofy overacting.

  She then focused her mind on the distraught woman with the flaming-red hair in front of her.

  “How is Lena?” Hayley asked quietly.

  Penelope took a deep breath and shook her head. “The same, I’m afraid. Hanging on, but it doesn’t look good.”

  “We just have to stay positive,” Hayley said, reaching out and touching Penelope’s arm.

  “Yes! Lena is a young, vibrant, strong girl and she’s always been a fighter. She’ll pull through this,” Penelope said in a valiant attempt to convince herself. “But seeing her hooked up to all those machines was devastating. Just the idea of losing her, I can’t imagine anything worse happening to me!”

  “Well, uh, there’s your husband . . . who died . . . last night . . .” Bruce said in utter disbelief, astonished that he had to remind her of the other horrible thing that had happened in the last forty-eight hours.

  Penelope gave him a blank stare.

  It was as if she was processing what he was saying, and was now trying to figure out the proper response.

  “Oh, yes, that too.”

  And that was it.

  Her entire reaction to her husband’s death.

  In two seconds.

  Giving up on trying to squeeze any tears out of Penelope over Conrad, Bruce was resigned and changed the subject to more mundane topics like the kind of cheese Penelope had packed in the picnic basket. This subject was infinitely more interesting to Penelope, and she rattled off a story about her travels to Paris and all the wonderful cheese shops she had visited.

  Hayley glanced over to see Sal and his wife still staring at them, both astounded at having been witness to Hayley and Bruce, heretofore mortal enemies at the office, sucking face at the town pier, seconds away from having a colorful fireworks display exploding in the sky above them like the backdrop in the final scene of a schmaltzy romantic comedy.

  She knew she owed them an expla
nation.

  “Excuse me, I’ll be right back,” Hayley said, standing up and maneuvering her way through the throngs of people sitting on blankets in the grass, slowly making her way over to Sal and his wife.

  When she reached them, Sal already knew why she was there. He held up a hand and bellowed for everyone in the surrounding area to hear, “What you do after work hours is your own business, Hayley!”

  His wife snickered.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” Hayley said.

  “I’ve been a news reporter my whole adult life, Hayley, and I only deal in facts, and the fact is . . . you and Bruce make an awfully cute couple!”

  “You’re being sarcastic,” Hayley said.

  “I always knew you two were made for each other,” he howled.

  His wife could barely breathe she was laughing so hard.

  Hayley spotted a whole congregation of locals nearby watching and smiling, riveted to the scene as she feebly tried to explain herself.

  There was simply no use.

  The rumor mill was already cranked up and there was no stopping it now.

  Just east of the grassy knoll down by the shore path that wound around the harbor and out along the rocky coast of the island, Hayley spotted Gerard and Tristan. They were off by themselves, a good distance from the crowd, and they were in the middle of an intense and heated argument.

  “I’ll see you at the office on Tuesday, Sal, and we can continue this conversation,” Hayley said, scurrying off down to the shore path, her eyes fixed on Gerard and Tristan.

  “Just let us know where you two lovebirds plan on registering so we can buy you a nice gravy boat!” Sal yelled as his wife continued howling with laughter.

  As Hayley approached Gerard and Tristan, she could see Gerard aggressively advancing upon his son, who slowly backed away, angrily wagging a finger in his father’s face, his eyes blazing as he shouted something at him. The echo of the chattering crowd and the crashing waves against the shore drowned out their words, but as Hayley got close enough, she was able to hear Tristan yell at his father, “If you stay out of my love life, then I will stay out of yours!”

  Gerard roughly grabbed his son’s shirtsleeve and shook him, but Tristan yanked his arm away, and in a moment of raging brutality, gave his father a furious shove. Gerard stumbled back, luckily falling back against the railing that lined the path. Otherwise he would have toppled over and fallen ten feet, quite possibly smashing his head on the jagged rocks below.

  Tristan tore off down a rickety flight of steps to the beach and ran off, disappearing in the darkness.

  As Gerard stalked back toward the crowd on the lawn, Hayley spun around so her back was to him. He passed by her without a hint of recognition. Once Gerard was swallowed up by the crowd, Hayley darted back along the shore path, and then hurried down the steps to the beach in search of Tristan.

  She had to know what he and his father were fighting about.

  She had seen Tristan cavorting with Lena, so she could only assume that Lena was his object of desire.

  But who on earth was his father involved with?

  What was so interesting about his love life?

  Tristan had no desire to talk to her before, so she saw no reason he would agree to speak with her now.

  But Hayley hoped that if she caught him at the right moment, if he was still in a highly charged emotional state, maybe, just maybe, he might slip and say something useful.

  It had proven to be an effective tool in the past, when Hayley tried to get reluctant people talking.

  She searched the beach, but found no sign of him.

  “Tristan?” she called out as the waves crashed and water raced up the narrow beach threatening to wash over her Nike sneakers.

  Hayley walked farther down the beach, picking up her pace, her sneakers sinking into the wet sand of pebbles and shells as the tide slowly but forcefully made its way into the harbor.

  Suddenly she heard a loud crack, like gunfire, and she nearly dove behind some rocks to hide.

  The sky lit up with streaks of red, white, and blue.

  It was just the start of the fireworks display.

  She laughed at herself for being so jumpy.

  And then out of nowhere someone grabbed her roughly from behind.

  Chapter 22

  Hayley struggled in the man’s strong grip, elbowing him in the chest and trying to position herself to jab the heel of her sneaker into the top of his foot in order to break free.

  “Whoa! Calm down, Hayley! It’s just me.”

  She spun around, instantly recognizing the voice.

  Lex Bansfield.

  “Sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that. You were just walking so fast, and you didn’t hear me calling to you so I had to run so I could catch up to you,” Lex said, releasing her and raising his hands in the air.

  “Lex, I’m so sorry, I was just . . .”

  She looked around.

  There was no sign of Tristan.

  She turned back and smiled. “Never mind.”

  The fireworks burst into bright flashes of color above them, illuminating their faces with candescent light.

  “I spotted you in the crowd back at the pier, but it took me a while to push my way through to get over to you, and by the time I did you were gone so I walked around until I saw you down here on the beach.”

  “What do you want, Lex?”

  His face soured slightly.

  She hadn’t meant for her words to come out like that.

  Cold and rushed.

  Slightly irritated.

  But she was, at the moment, singularly focused on locating Tristan and finding out more about the argument with his father that she had just witnessed.

  “I want to clear the air,” he said.

  “About what?”

  Now she was slightly curious.

  “You left the cottage in such a hurry. I could tell you were disturbed about something, and I think I know what it is.”

  The pipe she had noticed on the coffee table.

  He must have seen her staring at it, and he knew one was found at the scene where Conrad fell off the cliff. Hayley was certain he must be thinking she suspected him of pushing his employer to his death for some still unknown reason.

  “Lena Hendricks.”

  Hayley’s mouth dropped open.

  This was not what she was expecting to hear.

  “Look, I know all about your hobby of investigating crimes. We were together for two years, so I had a front-row seat. And I know you are very much involved in what’s been going on at the estate over the past few days.”

  “You mean one possible murder and one obviously attempted murder?” Hayley said, not the least bit comfortable just referring to them as “events.”

  “Yes. And I also know it’s only a matter of time before you dig up the truth, so I wanted to come clean with you before you heard it from someone else.”

  “Heard what, Lex?”

  “I was involved with Lena Hendricks.”

  Hayley stood there, letting the words sink in, before she nodded and said, “Okay.”

  “We met when I started working for Penelope and Conrad, and we hit it off. She asked me to dinner, and it went on from there.”

  “Were you still seeing her when you rescued her from the fire?”

  “No. We only dated a few times over the span of a month, and then it just sort of sputtered out. It was obvious she was too young for me, and neither of us were looking to settle down, so we parted ways, promising to remain friends. That was pretty much it.”

  “And did you? Remain friends, I mean?”

  “Yeah, I suppose so. I mean we didn’t run into each other all that much. I was working outside, and she spent most of her time in Penelope’s office helping her write her books. But when we did see each other, we were civil and polite.”

  Gloria and Rose, the young kitchen help who had breathlessly told Hayley that Lena was seeing another man that spa
rked an intense jealousy in Conrad had been wrong.

  The other man wasn’t Tristan.

  It was Lex.

  “Why are you telling me this, Lex?”

  “Because on one of our last dates, I took Lena to the Blue Hill Fair and we got into one of those photo booths and had our pictures taken, and she had one framed and came over to give it to me, maybe a day or two before we broke up, and I put it on my mantel in the living room and forgot about it. I realized it was still there when you stopped by the cottage earlier today. I just assumed you saw it, and that’s what got you spooked, and why you left in such a hurry.”

  “No, Lex, I didn’t see the picture.”

  “Oh,” he said, surprised.

  “I had no idea.”

  “Then why did I get the feeling you became upset about something when you were over at my place today?”

  “I saw a pipe on the coffee table.”

  “My pipe?”

  “So it did belong to you.”

  “Of course it does. Why?”

  “Is it a new pipe?”

  “Yeah, I went out and bought it this morning. How did you know?”

  “Tell me what happened to your old pipe,” Hayley said quietly, her words nearly drowned out by the exploding fireworks in the air. “Did you lose it?”

  “What are you trying to get at here, Hayley?”

  “A pipe was found at the scene where Conrad fell . . . or was pushed . . ”

  His face betrayed a hint of concern. “I thought the pipe they found on the ground belonged to Conrad. I heard he dropped it when he tripped and fell over the side of the cliff.”

  “It could have belonged to someone else,” she said, eyes fixed on his face, studying him.

  “It wasn’t mine, Hayley.”

  Lex stared at her, waiting for her to say something, but she just stood there, not sure what to say.

  And then Lex laughed.

  “I’m sorry, I don’t mean any disrespect, but do you think I . . . ?”

  “It’s not funny, Lex,” she scolded.

  “No, Hayley it is. I see how you’re putting this all together. Look, I’ve heard the rumors too about Conrad’s secret love affair with Lena, and as far as I know, they could be true, but I already told you, my relationship with Lena was a short-term fling. That’s all! I’m not some spurned, jealous ex-lover out to get her back by any means necessary! I like working here, and I would never do anything to jeopardize that.”