Lord of the Pies

by Nell Hampton

  “Yes.”

  “That’s nuts.”

  “Rachel was there,” I said. “She wasn’t the only one from administration. Beth Branch was there, too.”

  “Oh,” Penny’s eyes lit up. “We thought Beth might have been one of Chef Wright’s conquests.”

  “I’ll ask Sandy if they knew she was or not. Maybe Beth was the next in line.”

  “Maybe Beth was trying to get recipes out of Chef Wright,” Penny said.

  “What if Chef Wright found out? They could have fought,” I said.

  “You think Beth may have stabbed Chef Wright?”

  “Maybe,” I said. “She certainly is a person who would be easy to overlook.”

  “If she killed him, why show up at his memorial?” Agnes asked.

  “Killers often like to be involved in investigations. Maybe she wanted to see what happened at his memorial service.”

  “I can talk to Beth,” Penny said.

  “She isn’t going to admit out of the blue that she killed him.”

  “You don’t know that,” Penny said. “She admitted that she was selling secrets pretty easily.”

  “Let’s just see what Sandy knows first,” I said. “I’ll make a dinner date with her.”

  “Speaking of dinner dates,” Agnes said. “What are you going to wear to yours?”

  “You have a dinner date?” Penny pinned me down with her gaze.

  “Yes,” I said and raised my chin. “Jasper asked me out.”

  “Not just quick drinks?”

  “No, a real dinner date,” I said.

  “Sounds like things are getting serious,” Penny said. Her gaze lit up. “Good for you. I’ve seen your closet. You have nothing to wear. Let’s get you something from my closet.” Penny took my hand. “We’ll be back in time to get dinner going,” she said to Agnes.

  “Oh boy,” I muttered. Nothing like being dragged to my doom. Although, really, I was glad that Penny could help. I really didn’t have anything of interest in my closet.

  Penny opened her apartment doors and sunlight and colors hit me. “How can you live in this chaos?” I asked as she pulled me through her colorful living space into her equally colorful, overstuffed bedroom.

  “Messiness is a sign of intelligence,” Penny said with a laugh. “Come on, I know right what you should wear.”

  I reluctantly pushed clothes aside and sat on the bed. “Yes, but do you know where to find it?”

  Penny laughed. “Of course, I know exactly where everything is. Got my own filing system right here.” She pointed to her temple. Then she dug around in the back of her closet. “So, Jasper, huh? I thought you had a thing for Ian.”

  “Ian introduced me to his girlfriend,” I said with a sigh. “Unlike Evie and Rachel, I don’t mess with guys who are in a relationship.”

  Penny stuck her head out of the open wardrobe. “Jasper’s a real keeper, you know.” She reached into her wardrobe and pulled out a sapphire-blue wrap dress with long sleeves and a fit and flare skirt. “Here you go, say thank you.”

  “Oh, thank you!” I said, taking the dress from her. “It’s gorgeous.”

  “Now for shoes,” Penny reached into her closet and pulled out two pairs. One pair were a matching sapphire blue with four-inch heels and an open toe. The second pair were silver sandals with a tiny kitten heel.

  “Silver,” I said and took the shoes.

  “I thought so,” Penny said. “Now for the icing.”

  “Icing?”

  “You know, bling, rings, bracelets, necklace, earrings, and a pretty belt.” As she spoke she grabbed a bag and placed each piece inside. “There you go. You will look amazing. How are you doing your hair?”

  I touched my pulled back ponytail. “Loose?”

  “Perfect.” Penny disappeared into her bathroom and came out with a wand curler. “Use this to make soft waves all around your head. Do you have makeup?”

  “Of course I have makeup,” I said. “I like to keep it light.”

  “Do your eyes in a smoky gray,” she said. “It will really make the blue pop.”

  “Smoky eyes,” I said. “Right.”

  “And eyelash extensions and a bright red mouth to accent your pale skin.”

  “No,” I said. “No eyelash extensions. I tried them once and they got stuck to my fingers.”

  “Hmmm.” Penny put her hands on her hips. Her mouth was a thin tight line. “I can put them on for you.”

  “No, thanks,” I said. “I prefer to look like myself. He asked me out with me dressed like this.” I pointed to my plain face, white polo, and black slacks.

  “Yes, but if you want sex, you need to turn up the volume.”

  The heat of a blush rushed up my cheeks. “Men are not allowed in our rooms.”

  “Doesn’t mean he doesn’t have a room of his own,” Penny said, waggling her eyebrows. “You need to be prepared. Do you have a condom?”

  “Okay.” I picked up the dress and shoes. “Thanks for loaning me your outfit.”

  Penny’s face brightened as she followed me to the door. “You’re welcome. I’m a girl on her own these days. I need to live vicariously through you.” She clasped her hands in front of her.

  “We need to fix that,” I said.

  “Give it time,” she said, her expression falling. “I need time to get over things.”

  I gave her a quick hug. “You really liked him, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “Now, I expect a full report after the date.”

  “I’ll share as much as a lady should.”

  Penny wrinkled her nose. “Details,” she said. “I want all the details.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t get your hopes up. I don’t know if there will be anything to tell.”

  “Oh, there will be something,” she said. “I’ve seen how Jasper looks at you.”

  “Right.”

  *

  After hanging up Penny’s things in my room, I decided to make a custard but we were low on eggs. I left the kitchen prep work to Agnes and headed to the market. It was a lovely spring evening. Flowers were blooming everywhere. The British really had a way with gardens. Where I grew up, grass was the main plant grown. But here the yards were smaller and flowers sprang from every nook and corner, brightening the gray skies and buildings.

  I ran into the sanctioned local grocery. You couldn’t get food for the future kings from just any source. The duchess liked fresh, organic, grass fed, and free range. Most of the time the food came from the family farms. But in a pinch, I could stop at a local market.

  “Hello, Chef,” Sally, the cashier, said. “What brings you in today? Looking for a poison?”

  “Stop,” I said. “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “Just teasing,” she said. “I’ve had a look at the tabloids and there’s some speculation about all the killings going on up there near the palace.”

  She pointed at the rack of tabloids. There was a picture of the duchess looking distressed and the headline read “American Chef Poisons Competition.”

  “Oh, good lord.” I pointed at the papers. “This one says there are werewolves in London. This one leads with aliens spotted in Hyde Park.”

  She laughed. “I know they’re ridiculous, but that don’t mean there isn’t a kernel of truth in them somewhere.”

  “Only if you’re selling poisoned eggs.” I headed down the aisle toward the dairy section. A quick scan to find the grass-fed, free-range chicken eggs and a quick look to see that none were broken and I made my way back to the cashier. “That’s all I need. A few eggs for dessert.”

  “What are ya making?”

  “Egg custard,” I said. “An old family recipe.”

  “Ooh, that is a good spring pudding,” Sally cooed. “Would you share your recipe with me?”

  I laughed. “No. I won’t share.” I tapped my head. “It’s up here and won’t be written down.”

  Paying for the eggs, I put them in my tote and headed towa
rd the door. Just outside I ran into two men I recognized from the memorial.

  “Chef Cole,” The smaller red-headed man said.

  “Yes?”

  “Chef Theilman,” he said, holding out his hand.

  “Chef Theilman?” I shook his hand. “Carrie Ann.”

  “I know,” he said. “Vlad and I are stalking you.” He pointed to the taller black-haired man with blue eyes. Vlad was also thin. Both men wore white shirts and white pants as if they had come straight from their kitchen.

  “Stalking me?” I asked. “Why?”

  “Let’s get a tea,” Chef Theilman said, pointing to a coffee shop on the corner.

  “I don’t know.” I took a step back.

  “We are who we say we are.” Vlad took out his palace security badge and showed it to me. “We met at the baking competition. Remember?”

  Wow, Vlad was the second assistant I hadn’t paid attention to at the competition. I must have really been focused on keeping my food safe. “Okay,” I said. “Let me text my assistant and let her know where I’ll be.”

  “Sure.”

  I let them lead me to the coffee shop. We ordered drinks and took a seat in the far corner.

  “This is good,” Chef Theilman said. “Far from the door. We don’t need to attract any more attention.”

  “More attention?” I echoed. Placing the tote with eggs on the windowsill behind me, I sat down.

  “The tabloids are absolutely bonkers these days,” Chef Theilman said. “They’d have a field day if they got word that three palace chefs were sitting together to have tea.”

  “Listen, we wanted to have a word with you,” Vlad said, leaning in toward me. “Rumor has it that you suspect Geoff and me of killing Wentworth and Chef Wright.”

  “Oh.” I glanced around for exit signs. “Right.”

  “Don’t worry, we aren’t angry about it,” Vlad said.

  “Speak for yourself.” Geoff took a sip of his tea.

  “We want to set the record straight,” Vlad went on. “Tell us why you sent security to question us.”

  I wiggled in my chair. “I didn’t kill Wentworth or Chef Wright. But someone is trying—not very successfully—to make it appear that I did.”

  “We didn’t kill them, either,” Geoff said. “In fact, no one even thought that we might have done it until you put a bug in Gordon’s ear.”

  “So we have to ask why you were pointing fingers in our direction?”

  I swallowed hard. “You make it sound like we’re in grade school.”

  Neither man replied, making the silence nearly unbearable.

  “Look, I didn’t mean to upset either of you. I apologize if that has happened.”

  “What the hell did you tell Chief Gordon?”

  “I was told that you, Chef Theilman—”

  “Geoff.”

  “Geoff, I was told that you were upset that I catered the bridal shower. Someone said they heard you saying my pies weren’t professional.”

  He made a dismissive motion with his hand. “That was bluster.”

  “And Vlad, you were not happy with me either.”

  “So you pointed a finger at us for killing Chef Wright?”

  “Whoever killed Wentworth used my pie to do it. That means they most likely were trying to pin that murder on me. It had to be someone with access to the kitchen.”

  “So you suspect us?”

  “Geoff, you are applying for the position that opened after Chef Wright’s was killed.”

  “So is Sandy, and you didn’t tell Chief Gordon to look into her.”

  “That’s because he already questioned her like he questioned me.” I wrapped my hands around my paper mug and warmed my chilled hands.

  “For the record, I was at the pub with twenty witnesses the night Wentworth was murdered,” Geoff said.

  “I was catering a family affair, also with witnesses,” Vlad said.

  “Then neither of you has anything to worry about,” I pointed out.

  “Except my being questioned by Chief Gordon is putting a kink in my chances to get Chef Wright’s job.”

  “How so?” I narrowed my eyebrows.

  “They are considering an outsider with no connections to the staff politics,” he said bitterly. “So even your precious Sandy is not likely to get the position.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  “Are you?”

  “Look, I don’t have a problem with either of you,” I said and raised my hands. “Do either of you have any idea who killed Wentworth or Chef Wright? Do you think they’re connected?”

  “I think Wentworth was the only target,” Vlad said. “That death took planning. Chef Wright’s death was more impulsive.”

  “We think there are two killers,” Geoff said. “We told Gordon that as well.”

  “Did either of you see anything suspicious the day Chef Wright was murdered?”

  “I wasn’t there,” Geoff said. “I was at a day conference on the making of gluten-free pastries.”

  “I was at a job interview,” Vlad said.

  “Job interview? But you have a job.” I wiggled in my seat.

  “I was interviewing for a place in Buckingham Palace. Better pay and better hours.”

  “Any idea who Chef Wright was seeing? Sandy said that he was planning on bringing around a new girl.”

  “You think his new girl did this?” Geoff drew his eyebrows together. “Why?”

  “Maybe not his new girl, but maybe his old one,” Vlad said.

  “Rachel?” I said. “You think she did?”

  “Not Rachel,” Vlad said. “That monster who hijacked the memorial service.”

  “Evie? Why would she kill Chef Wright? She said he was leaving his wife for her.”

  “No, he wasn’t,” Geoff said. “What made you say he was?”

  “Evie told me.”

  “That woman is crazy,” Vlad said. “Chef Wright loved his wife. He would never leave her.”

  “But the mistresses…” I said.

  “Chef loved the thrill of the hunt. But he never would have compromised his children,” Geoff said.

  “But the women…”

  “All knew,” Geoff said. “He told them straight up.”

  “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “What doesn’t make sense?” Vlad asked.

  “Why would anyone want to be his mistress? Why would his wife allow him to have so many mistresses?”

  “Oh, you are so American in your thinking,” Vlad said with a sad shake of his head. “They had what you would call an open marriage. Mrs. Wright accepted her husband’s ‘entertainments’ as part of him. But those two were fiercely devoted to each other.”

  “Then why was Evie allowed to take over the memorial?”

  “It was an open service,” Geoff said with a shrug. “No one was prepared for that woman’s antics.”

  “I don’t know,” I said with a shake of my head. “I’m pretty sure he promised Evie that he would leave his wife for her. Evie’s pregnant.”

  “Not sure whose kid it is,” Geoff said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Everyone knows Chef had surgery right after his last kid was born.”

  “What?”

  “He was shooting blanks,” Vlad said.

  “Did Evie know this?” I asked with my eyebrows drawn. The woman was more insane than I’d ever imagined.

  “Everyone knows it,” Geoff said.

  “Wow.” I sat back. “Just wow.”

  “Changes things a bit, now doesn’t it?” Vlad said.

  “Yes,” I said. “Does Ian know about this?”

  “He’s aware,” Geoff said. “We thought you should be aware before you point any more fingers at people.”

  “Thanks.” I stood. “This has been very enlightening.”

  “You’re welcome,” Vlad said. “We hoped it would be.”

  I left the two chefs at the coffee shop and hurried back to my kitchen. Could I ha
ve been sitting next to Chef Wright’s killer at class all along? The idea made me shudder. The next question was what did Evie have against Wentworth that would maker her kill him and why try to pin the death on me?

  Unless Evie wasn’t the only one who wanted Wentworth dead.

  Chapter 29

  “I can’t believe the chefs confronted you,” Penny said. It was after dinner, and I had sent Agnes home. Penny sat in her usual spot in the kitchen.

  “I feel stupid,” I said. “They both had solid alibies for Chef Wright’s killing and even Wentworth’s murder. Chef Theilman was really mad. He said that my questioning him and other people on the staff meant that the most likely person to replace Chef Wright would be an outsider.”

  Penny winced. “I suppose I could see that.”

  “You’re a friend of Evie’s, right?”

  “Sure, at least I think so. Why?”

  “Did you know that Chef Wright was no longer able to have children?”

  “What?”

  “Yes, I guess it’s rather common knowledge that he had a vasectomy. It must be why Mrs. Wright isn’t beside herself with anger at Evie. She must figure that a paternity suit will soon enough prove Evie’s claim to be false.”

  “You think all she has to do is wait for the baby to come and the lawsuit will go away?”

  “That would be my guess. It’s why she seemed so calm at the memorial. She must think Evie is off her rocker.”

  “Maybe Evie is.” Penny widened her eyes. “Do you think Evie is fake pregnant?”

  “What?”

  “You know, fake pregnant. Where it’s all in the woman’s head. There is no baby but they have all the symptoms.”

  “Now you’re just being silly,” I said with a tsk. “That doesn’t really happen, does it?”

  “Yes, it does,” Penny said. “It’s a mental disorder.”

  “Well, after the memorial service, I can believe that Evie has some kind of mental disorder. Who does that?”

  “Do you think they’ll suspend her from work?” Penny asked.

  “I don’t know. Did she really do anything wrong?”

  “Hmm, I suppose not,” Penny said. “Unless she actually did kill someone.”

  “Why would she want to kill the man she claims she’s in love with?”

  “Maybe because he didn’t love her back,” Penny suggested.