The Missing Ingredient

by Diane Noble

  As if on cue, Newt Keller loudly berated one of the crew members, who shot him a glowering look before slumping away.

  “Oh my,” Kate said under her breath, her heart going out to the people who worked with the obviously unhappy man.

  “Mr. Personality had better watch his p’s and q’s, if you ask me,” Renee said.

  The sudden rev of an engine caught Kate’s attention, and she turned to see a zippy silver Mazda Miata roar into the parking lot and screech to a halt near the Sumptuous Chocolates star coach. Seconds later, the driver-side door of the sports car swung open. With a big wave and a grin, Susannah Applebaum bounced out.

  Kate would have known her anywhere. That ready smile. That blonde bob. That round, jolly frame. It helped that Kate had followed Susannah’s show on TV through the years, but even if she hadn’t, she would have recognized her dear friend.

  The crowd fell silent, and for the briefest instant, Kate thought it was because of Susannah’s dramatic arrival.

  Then she realized they weren’t looking at Susannah.

  “Oh my,” breathed Renee, just behind her.

  “Oh dear,” said Livvy.

  Kisses whimpered.

  “I knew it,” LuAnne said, her voice trembling. “I just knew it.”

  “Well, I never...” Caroline said, then swallowed audibly.

  “Smoke and mirrors,” Danny said, but his voice shook.

  A chill came over Kate as she turned toward the hotel and, along with the cast and crew of the Taste Network and the citizens of Copper Mill, stared at the upper floor of the hotel, her mouth dropping open.

  Flickering candlelight seemed to float from window to window, room to room, as if no walls existed between.

  Before Kate could blink, a shadowy, veiled figure appeared just beyond the candlelight. It seemed as thin as smoke, almost translucent. Then just as quickly, it dissolved into nothing.

  An audible gasp rose from the crowd.

  The hotel went dark once more, and Kate told her heart to stop its wild beating.

  Chapter Two

  Kate drew in a cleansing breath and laughed, albeit a little shakily. “I agree with Danny,” she said to the others. “Smoke and mirrors. That’s all. I’m sure what we saw can be readily explained.”

  “Is this my Katie?” boomed a sonorous voice behind her.

  Kate whirled around at the sound of Susannah’s voice. Before she could get a word out, she was drawn into a bear hug.

  A half second later, both women were laughing and crying.

  “Has it really been almost forty years?” Kate said, wiping her eyes as she stepped back from the hug.

  “How did we let so much time go by?” Susannah grabbed a tissue from a jacket pocket. She blew her nose with gusto.

  “How did you know it was me? We weren’t going to get together until tomorrow morning.”

  “I tried to call you at home on my cell. When you didn’t answer, I hoped you’d be here to greet me. So I was on the lookout.”

  “But still,” Kate continued, “how did you know what I look—”

  Susannah chuckled. “After you told me about Paul being the pastor of Faith Briar Church, I looked it up on the Internet. Your picture is right there with your husband’s, standing in front of that beautiful church.” She put on her glasses and peered at Kate. “And I must say, your photo doesn’t do you justice. You’re beautiful as ever, Katie.”

  Kate grinned. “And you’re even more gorgeous in person than on TV.”

  Susannah patted her hair, obviously pleased with the compliment. Then she gave Kate a soft smile. “The real beauty is in our friendship. To think we’ve reconnected after all these years...”

  Kate turned to her friends to make introductions, but the crowd had drifted toward the knots of Taste Network cast and crew as the mayor stepped to the front of the hotel and called for everyone’s attention.

  Susannah leaned toward Kate as they waited for Mayor Briddle to begin. “I know we were planning to take our official trip down memory lane tomorrow, but how about a cup of tea tonight?”

  “I’d love that,” Kate said.

  “Great! By the way, I saw the lights flicker just after I drove up. Was it a power failure or the work of the hotel’s ghost?”

  Kate sighed. “So you’ve heard about Famous Haunts of the South?”

  “As soon as I found out I was coming here, I ran out and bought it. I’ve got it in my suitcase, though it’s not for bedtime reading.”

  “Too spooky?”

  She grinned. “And then some.”

  Just then, Mayor Briddle cleared his throat. Kate and Susannah turned to watch.

  Strangely, the Taste Network cast and crew seemed disgruntled, even apprehensive. Kate frowned and glanced at those standing near her. Tension weighed as heavily in the air as the mist that hugged the ground. Or was it her imagination? When the mayor asked Newt Keller to join him at the front of the hotel, several crew members exchanged smirks. A couple rolled their eyes as if they knew what was coming.

  Newt stepped forward and looked out at the clusters of crew and Copper Mill folks shivering in the cold. He put on a wide, charming smile, which surprised Kate. He was a handsome man, probably in his late forties. Boyish looking, with a round face and dark hair, silvery on the sides, that was swept back in an expensive-looking style. There was something about him that screamed Hollywood, or at least what Kate imagined to be the practiced look of show-biz types. She immediately shot a prayer heavenward, asking for forgiveness for her judgmental attitude.

  “Thank you, everyone, for coming out on this inclement evening to welcome the Tasties of Taste Network. Your hospitality is so appreciated. We look forward to a terrific week with you all. Each Copper Mill citizen has received a formal invitation from Taste to join us for the tapings this week, but I want to tell you in person how much we’d like for you to come.

  “Our time here will be filled with food and fun, but you all are the ingredient that makes or breaks a network such as ours. If you’ve not seen such a production before, you may at times feel we’re moving at an agonizingly slow rate, and I beg your patience. Besides the in-studio shots, we’ll be working on off-site segments for TV audience interest and fascinating tidbits in and around the hotel. We’re especially interested in the ghost that haunts this place, and I know our audience will be too.”

  The Copper Mill folks cheered and clapped. Newt smiled out at the crowd, looking cherubic.

  “It’s true,” he said. “Now, folks, we don’t want to be accused of making you all freeze to death.” He laughed. “Besides, we need you to be healthy for the tapings. So I bid you farewell. Go home and get warm, and we’ll get back to work.” He waved, then headed back to the crew.

  “Great show of his public persona,” Susannah muttered.

  “I thought it was a nice speech,” Kate said.

  “Don’t be fooled. He’s been to acting school, but he couldn’t make it as an actor, so he and his ex-wife started Taste Network instead.”

  “It’s been successful, so maybe it was a good choice,” Kate offered.

  “Hugely successful,” Susannah said. “But it seems the better the ratings are, the more ratings-hungry he becomes.”

  “Is that what makes him so on edge?”

  “On edge?” Susannah let out a deep sigh. “That’s putting it mildly. The man is a marketing genius, but his people skills are sadly lacking. Sometimes I wonder how any of us can put up with him. More than once I’ve thought of throwing in the towel.” She shrugged one shoulder. “But I need the income, so it’s no more than a fleeting dream.”

  Kate was surprised. “You don’t like what you do?”

  “I love what I do, but Keller has a way of robbing a person of creative joy.” She grinned. “But I didn’t mean to dump all this on you within the first ten minutes of our reunion.” She laughed heartily. “I should’ve waited at least fifteen.”

  While Susannah checked into the hotel, Kate headed to Syb
il’s office, which was on the ground floor, just beyond the reception desk. The door was open, so she knocked on the doorjamb.

  Sybil took off her glasses and gave Kate a wan smile. She was the kind of businesswoman who never seemed to age. She could have been in her forties, or even her early fifties. She was attractive, with brown hair pulled back in a no-nonsense knot at the back of her neck.

  She gestured for Kate to come in. Kate had met Sybil when she and Paul first moved to Copper Mill. After the two women exchanged e-mails, Sybil had provided information that exposed the illegal practices of a corporation that coveted Faith Briar’s property. Sybil was hired as general manager of the hotel soon after.

  Kate hadn’t had the opportunity to work with her since. But even from a distance, Kate had come to admire the woman’s wit and warmth and her grace under pressure.

  Her ability to deal with any situation without getting flustered was legendary. People still talked about the time a couple was relaxing in front of the fire in the foyer, chatting about the mounted buck with an impressive rack of antlers, when a live buck with an equally impressive rack wandered through the hotel entrance and stood quietly staring at what appeared to be his twin, hanging above the fireplace. The couple ran screaming through the foyer as Sybil calmly opened the front door and quietly coaxed the deer outdoors.

  Another time, Kate happened to be in the tearoom when the Philpott brothers treated their mother, Enid, to afternoon tea on her birthday. No one knew she’d brought her cat, Ruffles, in a large carrier disguised as a purse. The only problem was, she had forgotten to completely zip up the opening, and Ruffles escaped, leaping across tables, feline fur flying, pulling off linen tablecloths, sending china clattering and shattering to the floor.

  It was Sybil who calmed the frantic cat, who’d climbed the drapes and roosted atop the valance, growling and spitting at anyone who came near, including Enid and her sons. Sybil ordered the waiter to bring her a tin of tuna and a can opener. Within thirty seconds, a purring Ruffles descended the drapes and willingly entered the carrier.

  Then Sybil calmed the disgruntled guests with offers of extra desserts and went table to table pouring fresh tea.

  It was also rumored that she could get along with anyone, whether everyday hotel guests or bigwigs from the corporate office. Everyone seemed to love Sybil, and as far as Kate knew, Sybil treated everyone with the same respect and affection.

  That’s what made it all the more surprising for Kate to see Sybil’s red-rimmed eyes, her agitated demeanor, her pale face and shaking hands.

  Then it hit her. Newt Keller.

  Sybil reached for a tissue and blew her nose. “I’m sorry,” she said, blinking rapidly. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

  “Was it the producer?” Kate ventured gently, taking a seat across from Sybil. “I noticed you talking with him earlier.”

  Sybil frowned briefly, then shook her head. “He’s...” Her voice drifted off. “Well, let’s just say he’s going to be a challenge to work with.” She sniffed and reached for another tissue. “He wants to capitalize on the rumors about the Hamilton Springs ghost. When I said no and tried to explain why, he said I didn’t have the right to stop him. He’s already arranged to interview experts on haunted houses and ghosts in a special segment of the show.”

  “Oh dear,” Kate said.

  “It gets worse. He’s calling the special segment ‘Ten Reasons to Avoid Staying in a Haunted Hotel.’” She blinked at Kate. “Can you imagine that? He told me it’s supposed to be ‘tongue in cheek,’ and the audience will ‘get it.’ Those were his exact words. He’s even planning to tell his audience that the hotel once had to close because of ghost activity, and I’m sure he’ll mention that he wonders if it will happen again.”

  Kate sat forward, her eyes widening. “Was it? Closed, I mean, because of ghost activity?”

  “Yes, in the fifties. Guests stayed away to the point where the hotel almost went under.”

  “People find oddities like this interesting. Maybe the publicity will be good for the hotel,” Kate said. “Maybe it will become even better known than it is now.”

  Sybil shook her head. “That’s the kind of publicity we don’t need. This is a grand old hotel, renovated four-star-plus, all the way. Our guests expect a certain kind of understated elegance, not a foyer full of ghost hunters from la-la land.”

  “Speaking of ghosts, did you see the...ah, apparition in the window tonight?”

  Sybil stared at her evenly, then said, “I didn’t need to. Guests have reported the same strange flicker of lights for several weeks now. They’ve also told me about furniture that seems to move across a room of its own accord, drapes that blow as if in the wind, though the window isn’t open...” Her words fell off, and her face went pale with her next words. “When I get such reports, I go immediately to the rooms where the ghost activity was reported to have happened”—she reached for another tissue—”but nothing’s there. Nothing at all. Nothing but a frigid air that seems to move around the room independently.”

  Kate blinked. “It sounds like you believe the Hamilton Springs really is haunted?”

  Sybil didn’t answer, but Kate could see by her expression that something was troubling her deeply. Kate sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Would you mind if I had a look around to see for myself?”

  “It won’t do you any good,” Sybil said. “I was up there earlier and checked all the rooms. They’re empty except for stored furniture, industrial cleaners, paper goods, extra linens, and such.”

  “Even so,” Kate said, “let me look around, see if I spot something.”

  For a moment, the only sound in the room was the ticking of an antique clock on the credenza behind her.

  Finally, Sybil spoke. “That chill I mentioned. It’s like some sort of taunting wind, unlike anything I’ve felt before. Even the housekeepers have noticed it.” She hesitated briefly, then added, “It has a personality.”

  “Personality?”

  “Like a person, only I know logically it isn’t.”

  “Or like a ghost,” Kate whispered, imagining that the chill had blown into the room with them. “Have you seen these things yourself?”

  Sybil gave her a steady look, and again, Kate noticed the pallor of her skin. Obviously unwilling to talk about it, Sybil stood, a signal that their meeting was over. “Stop by in the morning, and I’ll have the key card waiting for you.”

  Kate stood and shook Sybil’s hand. It was icy cold.

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Kate was sitting across from Susannah in the tearoom, which was attached to the Bristol. It was nearly eight o’clock, and the room was almost empty. Susannah ordered tiramisu for them to share, and it was quickly brought to their table with a pot of Earl Grey, a small pitcher of thick cream, and a bowl of sugar cubes. She then proceeded to rate the dessert as if it were fine wine.

  “Ahh,” she breathed, closing her eyes. “Very nice. I taste fresh mascarpone, Black Forest kirschwasser, and a hint of almond extract. And I would guess the chef made his ladyfingers from scratch. I hereby pronounce his creation ‘heaven in the mouth.’”

  Kate took a bite, slowly savoring each flavor. Somewhere in the filing cabinet of her mind, she recalled that kirschwasser was a cherry liqueur. A very expensive liqueur. She grinned at her friend. “I’ve ordered tiramisu here before, but I never noticed the tastes of almond and cherry liqueur. How in the world do you tell the difference?”

  Susannah opened her eyes and reached for another bite. “Breathe out while you’re chewing, Kate. That will cause your taste buds to pick up the finer nuances of flavor. Try it.”

  Closing her eyes, Kate took another small bite, chewed slowly, and exhaled gently at the same time. Her eyes flew open as a burst of flavor seemed to explode in her mouth.

  Susannah laughed. “Told you so.”

  “Amazing,” Kate said, then took another bite.

  “It’s all in how you approach it. Some people eat to sustain lif
e, gobbling down their food to soothe hungry stomachs. Others have discovered the wonderful pleasures to be had in slowing down and savoring each intricate flavor of the foods they eat, whether it be fine chocolate or a cheeseburger with all the fixin’s.”

  Kate widened her eyes. “A cheeseburger?”

  “Of course. One of my favorite foods.” Susannah chuckled. “But don’t tell anyone. It would ruin my reputation.” Then her demeanor changed, and she let her gaze drift away from Kate’s. “And that’s the last thing I need right now,” she added.

  Kate took a sip of tea, studying her friend.

  Susannah looked up and caught her gaze. “This taping is incredibly important,” she said. “A lot is riding on it. Yet it seems that someone—or something—is determined to trip me up with my show.” She paused, staring into her teacup. “I know you might wonder why I’m telling you this; after all, we haven’t been in touch for such a long time. It’s not like we’re bosom buddies right now.” When she looked up, tears glistened in her eyes.

  Kate reached for her hand. “We were childhood friends. You practically lived at my house.”

  Susannah smiled through her tears. “It was your mom who introduced me to the joys one can find in the kitchen. My love affair with chocolate began the Christmas she taught us how to make fudge with marshmallow cream.”

  Kate smiled at the memory. “We might have been apart all these years, but when I saw you earlier, the years just melted away. We vowed to be best friends for life—do you remember?”

  Susannah lifted her teacup, nodded, and took a deep breath. “That has to count for something,” she said.

  “It counts for a lot,” Kate said.

  Susannah leaned back in her chair. “The people I’m closest to know nothing of what I’m about to tell you.”

  Kate’s heart went out to her friend. In the blink of an eye, she had gone from bubbly, smiling TV persona to stressed-out businesswoman.

  “I’m about to lose everything. My cookbook sales are holding steady—not best sellers by any means, but not tanking either.