The Chef at the Water's Edge

by Kee Patterbee

  They all laughed, breaking the intense tension that had built up in the room. Their moment of relief halted by three sharp raps on the door. “I’ll get it,” Cate said.

  Cate opened the door just as Vera knocked again. “Oh, great. You made it,” Cate said, smiling. Come on in. Did you have any problems finding the house?”

  Smiling with a twinge of uncertainty, Vera held up her cell. “Just a little. I have GPS, but service can be spotty.”

  As Vera stepped inside, Cate took her jacket and placed it on the hooks Louie had mounted on the wall. Once again spying Hannah’s hat hanging there, Vera asked, “I don’t understand the hat. Or those lenses.”

  Turning to look at it, Cate said. “No one does. It’s just a Hannah thing.”

  Looking at Vera, Cate noticed that she had changed before coming over. Her formal business attire of earlier had given way to a much more comfortable look. She now wore a black pullover, jeans, and sneakers. Her glasses hung from the center of her collar and her hair now hung free, released from the ponytail of earlier. Cate could now see what Louie had noted. Under these changes, she resembled Julia, except for her slight accent, which escaped on occasion. “We’re all in Louie’s office.”

  Cate led Vera back to the others who sat around a small table looking over papers from Louie’s file on Julia. Critic, who lay by Louie’s side, rose to meet the new arrival. Seeing the mastiff, Vera stopped and stiffened, despite the rapid wagging of his entire tail and hindquarters. Louie pointed down, and the canine followed the command to sit. “Don’t be nervous. He doesn’t bite,” Louie assured her, patting Critic on the head. Vera looked at the dog, whose tail still swished as he sat. She took a slow walk over to the animal and put out her hand for him to sniff. After a whiff, he lowered his head in anticipation of a pat or two. Instead, he received a vigorous scratch behind his ears, much to his great pleasure. “He is a true sweetheart,” she praised.

  Before sitting, everyone exchanged greetings and introductions anew. Louie put on some soothing, ambient music. “Better?” he inquired of her.

  “Yes. Thank you. I love this type of music. How did you know?”

  “Lucky guess. It also happens to be my favorite. We were planning on ordering some Chinese. Would you like some?”

  Smiling, Vera paused for a moment. “That would be nice.”

  “Good. Because otherwise, Buster here has threatened to cook,” Cate said, thumbing at her cousin. Buster reached over and gave his cousin a light punch in the arm. “I may not be able to cook but I can dial with the best of ‘em. What’s everyone having?” The exchange brought about tension-relieving chuckles from all. So much so that even Critic began to bark, making the laughter last longer.

  Cate, who was sitting next to her, was the first to regain control. “Oh, I needed that.”

  “I believe we all did,” Hannah said, snickering one more time before clearing her throat. She took the time to study Vera. She could tell the woman was much more comfortable than she had been when she entered the room. Still, Hannah wanted to reassure her that they were on her side and working toward the same goal. “I just want you to know that anything you say, anything you want to tell us, it won’t go beyond this room. It stays with us.”

  Vera looked at Hannah. Just as Hannah assessed her, she was mirroring that action. After a second, the corners of her lips turned up. “Thank you.” Hannah could tell that Vera had just judged her, and she had made the grade. Vera’s face then flashed emotions in rapid succession. Hannah detected sadness, and self-doubt.

  “I’m not sure why I came,” she replied in a gentle tone. “After you said what you said...” Looking at Louie, she added, “I guess I’m just tired of feeling alone. I don’t know whom I can trust. I considered backing out.”

  “I’m glad you didn’t,” Louie blurted out,

  Vera gave a meek smile, “Me, too.”

  Taking it all in, Hannah asked, “So, you haven’t talked with anyone about your suspicions?”

  Vera thought for a moment before answering. “Just my parents. They are still in France. Older. Their answer to everything is, ‘Come back to Paris. Live with us.’ But I can’t. It’d be like hiding from the truth for the rest of my life. And as I said, Julia deserved better.”

  “So, you are from France.”

  Vera placed her fingers over her mouth. “Oh. My accent. Sometimes it slips out. I have tried to overcome it. I have taken speech classes. Asa insisted I sound American when I eventually took over the show. That opportunity came too soon, and I guess he felt I was not yet ready.”

  The room grew still as Julia’s tragic death once again weighed heavily in the room. To keep Vera talking, Hannah kept her on task. “Ah. Parisian?”

  “Oh, no. Nothing of the sort. I am an Arzonais, meaning I am from Arzon. A small village along the Northwest coast.” Vera adjusted herself as though she were uncomfortable.

  Noticing the uncomfortable face Vera took on, Hannah looked around the room to see where she was looking. All eyes were on the young woman, and everyone was listening. Hannah again turned back to Vera and gave an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry. That was rather rude of me. I didn’t mean to pry. Nothing worse than talking to a room full of strangers. I’m sure you have questions about us.” The conversation then turned to extended introductions. Cate explained her and Buster’s familial relationship, and their friendship with Louie and Hannah. Buster gave a brief, but charming, account of life around Cate and Hannah. Hannah expounded on her various careers; her short career in the FBI, the changeover into the culinary world and how Louie had asked her to look into Julia’s death.

  When the conversation came around to Louie, his focus took a natural turn toward Julia and his relationship with the late chef. Vera listened to every word, enraptured. Hannah could tell that, in Louie, she had found a kindred. Both had a deep love for Julia an unnatural bond in both. While she was sure that both would have done anything for the woman, both connections seemed extreme.

  By the time Louie concluded, Vera had once again relaxed, more so than at any point before. Through her accent, which seemed to ebb and flow with her beautiful voice, she explained her connection to Julia. “My birth mother is unknown to me, as is my father. Someone left me with a family, Lenora and Jacques Bessinger. They were to care for me for just a few days.” Vera dropped her head, and struggled for a moment to find words. “But it turned into a lifetime.”

  “They sound like good people,” Cate said.

  “They are. My father is a baker. My mother and he owned a little shop there in Arzon. Nothing fancy, but it earns, how do you say, ‘an honest living,’ but little else. One day, Julia came into their shop, looking for some rolls for a beachside meal. She was on holiday at the time, away from her studies in Paris. I was still tiny. So my parents kept me with them. She inquired about me, and my story intrigued her. She later told me that when she returned to Paris, for some reason she could not keep me off her mind.”

  Cate, Buster, and Louie listened to every word of Vera’s story. But, as was her nature, Hannah analyzed it along the way, storing up questions, making connections. Hypothesizing. Vera’s tale was both heartwarming and endearing. But was it true? Do children get left behind with strangers, who so fall in love with them that they adopt them? It all seemed so ‘Charles Dickens’ to Hannah. This is a story worthy of a movie. Or she’s one of the best acting con artist, and potential murderer I have ever met, Hannah admitted to herself. She then drifted back into the conversation. “So she kept up with you.”

  “Yes. I came to know her as a friend of the family. She always was kind to my family. We lived a simple life but never struggled, thanks to Julia. If we needed something, it always turned up for us, even though my parents would never ask. It was easy to figure out it was Julia. As her fortunes increased, so did her generosity.”

  Cate was enthralled with Vera’s story. She looked over to Louie. His eyes were gleaming, and he bore a sentimental smile so large it seemed almost
to arch around his face. “That’s my girl.”

  Louie’s assurance made Vera beam. “It was her way. When I was older, I wanted to enter university. My parents had some money saved, but it was not enough. I was ready to resign myself to working at the shop for the rest of my life when Julia once again stepped in. She provided me with the money to attend. I was … am still … so grateful.”

  Hannah continued her assessment of the story, considering all possibilities, even ones that she did not want to contemplate. Could this all be smoke and mirrors? Could underneath this love and devotion be the unthinkable? Hannah did not like the last question. It did not feel right. But her training taught her to think beyond ‘instinct’.

  It was a big part of the investigator’s tool kit. Assess everything based on its own merit. Consider all the facts. After a moment’s lapse, Hannah pushed all thoughts aside and returned to Vera’s story.

  Chapter 7

  “Now, that’s a generous woman,” Buster piped in.

  “Oh, yes. But it was more than that. She set me up a trust fund. It funds me in part to this day.

  “Interesting,” Hannah noted. “That must be some account.”

  “I have never asked the amount. I am just thankful that it provided me with an opportunity to finish school and come to America. For now, administration is through lawyers. But I will have direct access to it when I’m thirty. I planned on turning the money over to my parents until they pass on. Then return it to Julia.”

  “How’d she take that?”

  “Not well. I had discussed it with her. While she had no objections to sharing with my parents, she did not want the money returned to her. ‘It’s for you,’ she always insisted.”

  Hannah rolled her tongue around the inside of her mouth as she thought. This was one of her tell-tale signs that she had a theory. And she would not share it until assured of its absolute certainty. Of all the quirks that Hannah had, this one was the most frustrating to others.

  “Who else knows about this fund?” Hannah asked in a pointed manner.

  “No one, to my knowledge. Julia told me not to talk of it. The lawyers even had me sign a confidentiality agreement before I went off to school. But now that Julia’s gone …” Vera shrugged her shoulders, leaving her words unsaid but clear to all.

  “Would it be in the public record?” Cate inquired of Hannah.

  “I’d imagine so. Question is, who would look into it?”

  “I would think Asa,” Louie offered.

  Hannah expected this answer from Louie, given his suspicions and attitude toward his rival. She also knew he was right. Nonetheless, she did not want to give Louie reason to single out one individual because Asa had obtained what he desired. So she added to the possibilities. “Or Jazlyn.”

  Hannah’s implication of Jazlyn caused Buster to bristle, so he, too, added to the possibilities. “What about that Miller guy? Wouldn’t he have reason as well?”

  Louie frowned but said nothing. The frustration and disappointment on his face suggested to Hannah that he wanted the focus to remain on Asa. Buster’s reaction to Jazlyn’s consideration worked to the same effect. Both men had tainted opinions, a factor Hannah now had to both work with or around for the purposes of this investigation. Deflecting potential resentment, she spoke in broader terms. “All would have reason.”

  “Do you know of any enemies Julia had?”

  Vera shook her head, almost lost. “No. Everyone seemed to love her. I can say in all honesty that I know of no one who would hurt her.” She raised her head to meet Hannah’s gaze. “But I know this. Someone did.” She then turned to look at Louie. “You said you thought it strange that Julia was out alone at night also?”

  “Damn right, I did. She had night blindness. She couldn’t see anything after dark unless there was plenty of light. And there wasn’t.”

  Hannah paused to take these details in and compare them to what she already knew. It did seem odd that Julia, a woman who had a fear of open water and was blind in the dark, would wander to the water’s edge. “Hmm,” she pondered, before asking. “What about moonlight?”

  Louie indicated no. “As I’ve said before, it was a new moon. Pitch black.”

  “No other light sources?”

  “None.”

  Hannah leaned back in her chair, a deep furrow in her brow twitching. The information intrigued the amateur investigator. The case had a slew of things for her to rummage around in. A beloved victim. Questionable circumstances. An obsessed and devoted friend. Controlling husband. Manipulative niece. Unusual manager. And a protégé with a curious relationship to the deceased. Any reservations Hannah harbored were now dismissed. She was now in full investigative mode. God help whoever did this, she thought. They don’t know the beehive they’ve just stirred.

  Working on the puzzle that lay before her, Hannah became lost in thought. At several points, Louie started to say something but Cate waved him off. She then assured him that Hannah would have something to say soon enough. Still, his anxiousness showed. He had invited Cate and Buster down for the festival as a friend. But Hannah’s presence offered him the opportunity to justify his feeling. Vera’s feelings further vindicated his own. When Hannah readjusted herself and looked around the room, Louie jumped at the chance to ask, “So what are you thinking?”

  “I’m hungry,” Hannah said with a blunt tone.

  “Wha…What?”

  “I’m hungry.” Hannah looked over at Buster. “Orange beef. Hot and sour soup. Egg roll. Crab Rangoon. Tea with lemon.”

  Buster listened and nodded. As he rose, he mumbled, “Talk about your hollow leg.” He grabbed a pen and small note pad from Louie’s desk and asked, “Anyone else?”

  Louie’s face was a mixture of uncertainty and questioning. Hannah measured his expression and explained. “I don’t think well when I’m hungry. I need to think.” She then went back into silent thought. Cate stood and put her hand on Louie’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. She’s just working on the puzzle in her head. She’ll be back in a moment.” Looking at Buster, she added, “Pea pods and egg drop soup. Diet soda.”

  Once the meal had arrived and been consumed, Hannah once again returned to her inquiries. Now, she wanted details. The reported news accounts that Louie collected were sparse. It was Hannah’s supposition that someone who had personal knowledge of Julia’s life could fill in the blanks. What Vera told her interested her even more. On the day of Julia’s purported accident, she had heard a volatile confrontation between Julia and Asa. Accusations came forth that he had had an affair.

  “It was at the studio. I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop. I was just in the room next door. They were shouting quite loudly. It wasn’t hard to hear them. Asa flat-out denied it. But from what I heard, Julia did not believe him.”

  “Did you hear whom she said the other person was?” Hannah asked in a low, serious tone?”

  Vera affirmed, as a flash of distaste rolled across her face. “Jazlyn.” The statement made everyone sit up straighter.

  “That dirty son of a …” Louie exclaimed as he slammed his clenched fist down on the table top.

  “Louie,” Hannah said in a terse and stern voice.

  “I know, but … It’s just that ….”

  Cate reached over and put her hand over Louie’s. He acknowledged the gesture and settled back down. “Sorry. Please continue,” he apologized.

  Hannah turned to Vera. “Please continue.”

  “They argued for over an hour, then I heard the door open, footsteps, and the door slam. I went to check on her. She was in her dressing room, crying. She said it was just a silly argument and that everything would be fine.” Vera frowned. “But it wasn’t. The last time I saw her was around five-thirty, when she was leaving for home. She seemed to have gotten over the argument and told me that she needed to talk to me the next day; that she had something to share with me. That was the last time I ever saw her.”

  Everyone watched as the memory overtook the young woman an
d light tears escaped her eyes. Watching, Hannah added to her mental profile of Vera. Still raw with emotion.

  As the conversation continued between Vera and Louie, much information came to light. According to police and coroner reports, Julia Karas had succumbed sometime around 11:30 p.m. The groundskeeper, one Peter Grimes, found her floating at the water’s edge near the gazebo the next morning. The coroner went on to list the death as an accident. Cause was blunt force trauma to the front of the head. A police investigation determined that she fell forward and struck her head on an overhead beam in the gazebo. This sent her reeling into the water. Cased closed. For everyone except the victim’s protégé, a loyal friend, and now, an amateur investigator and her companions.

  For Hannah, too many questions remained. It was out of character for Julia to be where the groundskeeper found her body. No one had questioned the fact that she was not seen leaving the house because the security cameras were not activated. Nor had anyone given thought to the lateness of the hour. Police had written it off as an insomniacs walk.

  Hannah re-opened the file that Louie had gathered and ruffled through the papers. “What was the timeline again?”

  Buster looked around and picked up a sheet off a stack of papers, which sat before him. “I think I got it here.” He peered at the paper and handed it to Louie. “You’ll have to read it. Your handwriting is awful.” Louie snatched the sheet of paper from the handsome young man’s hand. “Hmmph,” he let out. “Let’s see. Julia came home after her fight with Asa around 5:45 p.m. At some point, they made amends and ate together, according to the personal cook. She said they ate around 7:00 p.m. Asa reported leaving the house around 8:30 p.m. for a late meeting. It was never revealed with whom. But his security guard and valet confirmed his departure time.”

  Hannah questioned as she sipped on her tea, “When did he come back?”

  “Around 12:30 AM. He told the police he had a few drinks at the meeting and fell right asleep. He didn’t question her not being in bed because she was an insomniac and would wander the house at all hours.” Louie twisted his jaw and added, “I can attest to that. She always had trouble sleeping.”