Kale to the Queen

by Nell Hampton

  “I told you,” Jasper said.

  “Thank you,” Amy said and left us to our bottle of whiskey and dinners.

  “So I hear you have a boyfriend back in the states,” Jasper said. “Is it serious?”

  “We’ve been living together for three years,” I said. “So it’s pretty serious.”

  “And yet he let you jet off to London to be the royal family’s cook.”

  “He didn’t have much say,” I said. “Besides, he was proud of me.”

  Jasper poured me another shot of whiskey. “Sounds more like a brother than a lover. Cheers.”

  “Cheers,” I said and downed my third shot. I was feeling the happiest I’d been since I arrived. The food was good and the man across from me was just as delectable.

  We chatted about any number of things. I learned that Jasper had grown up in London but taken a liking to the parks and went to school to be a gardener. It was quite rigorous to become a palace gardener. Jasper had a master’s degree, had spent three years as an apprentice and three years as a journeyman, and now he was a master gardener. He was doing well at Kensington but had his eye on Buckingham.

  “Hello.” A man about our age grabbed a chair and pulled it up to our table. “Who’s this?”

  Jasper didn’t seem the least bit put out by the interruption. “Calvin, this is Chef Cole, the new family chef at the palace. Carrie Ann, this is my brother, Calvin.”

  “Hello.” I shook hands with the man. It was hard to tell who was the younger brother and who was the older, but I could see the resemblance. They both had thick blond hair, although Calvin kept his cut short like a businessman. He wore a button-down shirt and jeans with a crisp seam down the leg.

  “Well, well, my baby brother brings a beautiful woman to the family pub. That’s cause for celebration.” He snagged Jasper’s shot glass and poured himself a shot. “Cheers,” he said with a slight lift of the glass toward me and then downed it in one swallow.

  “Family pub?” I asked Jasper. He had mentioned it was a family place, but he didn’t mention it was his family’s.

  “Amy and Bob are my aunt and uncle,” Jasper said with a shrug. “That’s why they saved me the good stuff.” He winked at me and poured us both another shot.

  By this time, I was feeling very mellow and not sure if another shot was a good idea.

  “Go on,” Jasper said with a nod toward the glass. “If you don’t drink it, Calvin will, and I’d hate to waste the good stuff on my older brother.”

  “Last one,” I said. “Tomorrow might be my day off, but I do have things I want to accomplish.” I tossed down the shot.

  “I heard a rumor that you were the one who found the dead Mr. Deems in my brother’s greenhouse,” Calvin said.

  “I did find Mr. Deems,” I said with a nod. “He was quite dead, but it is my greenhouse as it’s attached to my kitchen and is there for the express purpose of my use to feed the family.”

  Both men chuckled.

  “Well, we’ll have to agree to disagree on whose greenhouse it is,” Jasper said warmly.

  “But it must have been terrible to find him there,” Calvin said. “Were you alone?”

  “I was,” I said. “It was my second day at work, and I wasn’t sure what to do. Protocol is everything at the palace.”

  “But you managed brilliantly,” Calvin said and grabbed my shot glass to pour what was left of the bottle into the glass and toss it back. “I understand they have the guy who did it.”

  “Oh, no.” I shook my head. “I don’t think Mr. Haregrove did it at all.”

  “Why not? The inspector seems to have enough evidence to arrest him.”

  “The motive is not strong,” I said. “I’m told they think he killed Mr. Deems because Frank was in love with Mrs. Deems.”

  “Love is a strong motive,” Jasper said with a twinkle in his blue eyes.

  “But I don’t think Mr. Deems was murdered for love,” I said. “You see; Mrs. Deems has cancer. Mr. Haregrove loves and cares for her, yes, but he would never leave her alone to battle cancer and grieve over her husband like this. He also loves those boys. It was the first thing he said to me the day I discovered Mr. Deems. He said he had to go check on the boys. They are his godsons.”

  “We all know what a beauty Meriam is. If you don’t think love was the motive, what was?” Calvin asked. He had blue-gray eyes set off by the light-gray dress shirt he wore.

  “Money,” I said. “I overheard two men trying to get money out of Mr. Haregrove. I heard them threaten the family next.”

  “Why would they kill Deems over money that Haregrove owes?”

  “Because it was not Mr. Haregrove who owed the money, but Mr. Deems. You see, cancer has caused Mrs. Deems to have to stop working for the last four years. Bills add up. I’m guessing Mr. Deems was borrowing money from someone shady, and when they demanded repayment, he didn’t have it.”

  “So why kill him?” Calvin asked. “How do you get money out of a dead man?”

  “Insurance,” I said. “Mr. Deems had a substantial life insurance policy. The two men I overheard threatening Mr. Haregrove mentioned the insurance money.”

  “You know there were rumors that Deems had a gambling problem,” Jasper said. He drew his thick eyebrows together. “They’re old rumors. But I remember once seeing Haregrove giving Deems money to play the ponies so he could pay off his bookie.”

  “That’s horrible,” I said. “He had a wife and kids to think about.”

  “I heard stress can cause addictions to manifest,” Calvin said. When I looked at him oddly he shrugged. “I took Psychology 101 in college.”

  “Calvin is a businessman,” Jasper said. “They study human psychology to help sell things to unsuspecting people like you and me.”

  We all laughed.

  “But seriously,” Calvin said, “if Deems had a gambling problem, it still doesn’t get Haregrove off the hook. Think about it. He knew Deems was gambling away money that the woman he loved and his godsons needed to survive. That’s a big enough motive.”

  I suddenly felt defeated. “Oh, I didn’t think of it that way. No wonder Ian said that my investigation was helpful but that Mr. Haregrove was not going anywhere anytime soon.”

  “You really like Haregrove,” Jasper pointed out.

  “I barely know him,” I said. “But he seems like such a decent guy. You didn’t see his eyes. He was truly crushed at the death of his friend. There is no way he murdered anyone.” I put my elbow on the table and rested my cheek in my hand. “Now I’ve gone and made things worse for the poor guy.”

  “Maybe not,” Jasper said. “If he didn’t do it, he didn’t do it. That means someone else had to have a motive and the means to kill Deems.”

  “Whoever it was must be angry about the money and have access to the greenhouse,” I said. “That really narrows down the field.”

  “I might know a thing or two about employees gambling in the palace,” Jasper said. “Not that I have a gambling problem, but I know where to place a bet or two.”

  “Then you might know who is threatening Mrs. Deems. I overheard a very large, bald man in a kitchen staff uniform talking on the phone about threatening the family if they didn’t get their money back.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Calvin said. “Does he know you overheard him?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said. “I went to see Ian, and he said he’ll have security do some extra rounds to ensure my safety. This whole thing has me spooked.”

  “And it should,” Calvin said.

  “Gordon will ensure your safety,” Jasper said. “He’s a man the queen has entrusted with the safety of her grandchildren.”

  “I can imagine Mr. Deems going toes up on the palace grounds really shook Gordon up. He has a reputation, and this just shot a big hole in it,” said Calvin.

  “I think that’s why he’s so ready to blame Mr. Haregrove,” I said. “The sooner this is solved, the better for everyone.”

  “
I think we have England’s finest on the case,” Jasper said and patted my hand. “But I’ll walk you to your door to be certain you are safe.”

  “Probably a good idea,” I said. My face felt a little numb. “So when will I get my kitchen back? The big guy talking about hurting Mrs. Deems works in the big kitchen.”

  “I’ve got all the old beds demolished,” Jasper said and stood. He helped me climb out of my tall bar chair and slide my arms into his jean jacket. “I’ll manage the cleanup in the next forty-eight hours. With any luck, the new beds will be built and in place in four days. Can you handle four days in the closet?”

  “She’s working in a closet?” Calvin asked.

  I nodded vigorously. “Yes, a very small closet. Butterbottom calls it a test kitchen, but I think it’s just his storage space.”

  “And why are you cooking in Chef Butterbottom’s storage space?” Calvin asked.

  “Because your brother here has ongoing demolition to the greenhouse and it turned my kitchen into a dirt farm.”

  “The walls between the greenhouse and the family kitchen are glass and should probably be resealed,” Jasper explained.

  “I went to Mrs. Worth and asked for plastic to cover them, but instead she sent me up to the big kitchen.”

  “And Chef Butterbottom put her and her staff to work in the storage closet,” Jasper said.

  “So you, my dear brother, are responsible for ruining this beautiful woman’s work space.”

  “It’s why he took me out to dinner,” I said, and the three of us headed toward the door. The pub was bustling now with neighbors gathering and talking. I waved good-bye to Bob and Amy.

  “Hmmm, yes,” Calvin said. “I can see that ruining your work space would be the only reason my brother would take you out and ply you with thirty-year-old scotch.”

  “And fish and chips,” I said. “We did eat dinner.”

  “Next time, have him take you to Antonio’s. The tiramisu is to die for, and the place is a bit more romantic than this one.”

  “Oh, I have a boyfriend,” I said as he held the door open for us.

  “Really? And where is he on this fine night?” Calvin asked.

  “In Chicago,” I said. I glanced at my watch. “Most likely working on a new recipe.”

  “How did he let you go?” Calvin asked.

  “After six years, we’re taking a short break,” I said. “He’s giving me space to follow my dream. But I’m hoping he’ll come to London for a visit. He might even love it enough to stay.”

  Calvin glanced at Jasper. I looked from one brother to the other. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Calvin said. “It was nice to meet you, Carrie Ann.” He took my hand and kissed the back of it. It sent a warm shiver up my arm.

  “It was nice to meet you as well,” I said. “Have a good night.”

  Jasper and I walked the couple blocks back to the palace in silence, listening to the bustle of the city as nighttime arrived, and with it, a cold fog that had me shivering. The whiskey warmed me, but only for a little while.

  “Thank you for dinner,” I said as we approached the palace gate and showed our security badges. “I’m good from here. I’m certain Ian has security well in hand.”

  “I’d still feel better walking you to your door,” Jasper said. He had his hand on the small of my back as if to guide me. It felt nice there. As if all those muscles would keep me safe. I was a little drunk, so I let him walk me into the palace and down the hallway past the kitchen and up the flight of stairs.

  “My room is just through here,” I said.

  He stopped me at my door. I took off his coat and gave it to him.

  “Thank you for being so kind to me. I know I must seem like some silly American all worried about a man I barely know.”

  “I find it endearing,” Jasper said. He reached down to take my chin gently into his hand and tilted my face up. “I find you beautiful.”

  He kissed me.

  It was warm and wonderful, and I might have put my hands around his neck and leaned into it a bit. It had been a tough week. John and I were on a break. I told myself I was far from home and was only taking a small comfort where I could get it.

  The door to my rooms opened behind me and, startled, I broke off the kiss.

  “Carrie Ann?” John asked. “What’s going on?”

  Chapter 20

  “John?” I said, confused. “How are you here?”

  “You asked me to come for your day off,” he said. His dark eyebrows drew together as he looked from me to Jasper and back. “Have you been drinking?”

  “Just a little scotch,” Jasper said. “To take the chill off.”

  “To take something off,” John muttered. “Who in the heck are you?”

  “John, this is Jasper Fedman. Jasper is the head greenhouse gardener. Jasper, this is John. John’s a chef for Matt’s in Chicago.”

  “I’m her boyfriend,” John said. “Something I think she’s forgotten.”

  “I didn’t forget,” I said and blinked as the hallway started to spin. “You’re in Chicago. I asked you to come visit and you couldn’t. And you didn’t want to be my boyfriend.”

  “I wanted to surprise you,” he said. “Looks like I did.” He gave Jasper the evil eye.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked. “How’d you get inside the palace?”

  “Mr. Gordon let me in after much interrogation,” John said. “I’ve been working on this surprise for a week.”

  “You should have told me,” I said weakly.

  “Well, I’m here now,” John took a hold of my arm and pulled me gently into my rooms. “I’ve got you.” He slammed the door in Jasper’s face.

  “Hey,” I said. “He was just being nice.”

  “I don’t like his kind of nice,” John said.

  “Sorry, Jasper,” I shouted toward the door. “Thank you for seeing me safely home.”

  John had set a duffle bag on the couch in my living room. The light was on in my bedroom. Flabbergasted at John’s presence in my rooms in Kensington Palace and more than a little drunk on whiskey, I looked at him in bewilderment.

  “When did you get here?” I asked. “I was only gone a couple of hours.”

  “I’ve been here about thirty minutes,” he said. “I wish I had gotten here a couple hours earlier.”

  “Me, too,” I said and sat down on my bed. He was mad at me, and I didn’t blame him. Neither one of us had expected me to kiss Jasper. It was even worse that John witnessed it.

  He paced in front of me. He was a tall, skinny guy in glasses, his dark-blond hair falling into his eyes in a way that made my heart melt. Today he wore his old jeans and a T-shirt with a Star Wars logo on it. He looked exactly like he always did only tired and, well, hopping mad.

  “I can’t believe I spent the money to come all the way across the Atlantic to surprise you only to find you in the arms of some gardener.”

  “It didn’t mean anything, and you said you wanted to be on a break anyway,” I said and laid back on the bed to stare up at the ceiling. I couldn’t bear to watch him pace anymore. Besides, the room had begun to spin again. “I had a bad day, heck, a bad week, and you were in Chicago telling me all about your plans to go to San Francisco. I had no idea if I’d ever see you again. Then I’m stuck cooking in a closet on the opposite side of the office of this chef who controls his kitchen with an iron fist.”

  I paused a moment to try to catch my whirling thoughts. “The room is spinning,” I said. “That’s not a good sign.”

  “Finding you in the arms of another man is not a good sign, Carrie Ann.” John yelled and finally sat down on the bed, rocking it just enough to set my stomach off. I popped out of the bed and ran to the bathroom, where I tossed up the whiskey and the fish and chips. I hated being sick. I hated drinking, and I hated the fact that I had let some guy kiss me. Most of all I wanted to curl up on the bathroom floor and forget this day ever happened.

  “Here,” John said and han
ded me a cool, damp washcloth. “Wipe your face.” John’s concern for my well-being barely masked his anger. “What did you eat?”

  “I think it was the whiskey,” I said and took the damp cloth in my trembling hands. I wiped the cold sweat from my face.

  “Whiskey? Carrie Ann, you don’t drink. I mean a half a glass of wine gets you tipsy. What were you doing drinking whiskey?”

  “Jasper’s uncle offered it to me,” I said weakly. “He said anyone who found a body at their workplace needed a good stiff drink.”

  “But you found that body days ago. I’ve been planning this trip for a while. I wanted to surprise you. I had no idea I’d be walking into this. I think you need to pack up your things and come home.”

  “What?” I looked at him from my position on the bathroom floor next to the commode.

  He squatted down and handed me a glass of cool water. “Drink this slowly.”

  I took a couple of sips. It soothed my ravaged throat. “Thank you.”

  “Let’s get you showered and in bed,” he said with a sigh, “Then we can talk.” He took the glass and helped me to my feet.

  I stripped as he got the shower warmed up. I stepped in the soothing warmth and let it beat on my body. My thoughts were scattered. I tried not to think about how soft Jasper’s mouth was on mine. How nice he smelled, like man and earth and herbs. Why, oh why, had I let him kiss me? And now here was John, just like I’d dreamed about ever since he’d told me he wanted to go on a break as I left for the airport. Hadn’t I wanted him to come to London to beg me to be with him again? So why wasn’t I feeling overjoyed at his arrival?

  I put on my robe and slippers after I finished my shower and went out to the living room to find John sitting at the kitchen island holding a cup of tea. I didn’t want to have this conversation. I wanted to crawl into my bed and close my eyes and pretend my life wasn’t a big mess. “Thank you.” Leaning against the doorjamb, I was uncertain about moving toward him. “I wish you had told me you were coming. Things could have been so different.”

  “Come over here and have a seat.” He patted the barstool next to him.

  I did as he asked and climbed up on the stool. He had a pot of tea waiting and filled my cup. I left it plain because my stomach still wasn’t doing so hot. I wrapped my hands around the warm mug.