by Hillary Avis
“Bad blood between you two?” Robin Ricketts held her voice recorder out and seemed to have been eavesdropping for some time—long enough to figure out that Bethany and Alex had no love lost between them.
“No comment,” Bethany said. “I’ve learned my lesson talking to you.”
Robin clicked off the recorder and pretended to pout. “Aw, you don’t like my stories?”
“Not really. Want some soup?”
Robin smiled and wrinkled her nose. “Not really.”
“Well, that’s all I’m serving here tonight, so...” Bethany made a walking motion with her two fingers.
Robin raised her eyebrows. “Suit yourself.” She flounced off.
For a moment, Bethany felt a surge of dread as she thought about how Robin might spin their conversation in her next article. Then she looked nearby where Amara and George were chatting by the courtyard fountain, Sharky tangling them up in his leash. George was laughing so hard he was bent over.
“Not just a swan—I’m gonna put up a whole menagerie!” Amara declared, waving her arms dramatically, and George slapped his knee.
If they can mend fences, maybe there’s hope for me and the Newbridge Community Observer. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually we’ll play nice together.
HAPPY ENDING FOR HOSANNA STREET
By Robin Ricketts
Newbridge, CT—A museum and cultural center will highlight Newbridge’s storied African-American history, giving a new voice to the town’s founding citizens. The old Hosanna Street church will house the new venture, slated to open in the fall.
The structure, which was originally scheduled to be demolished this week, will be preserved intact, says museum director George Washington. “We’ll keep the character, but it might get some new plumbing!”
A ribbon-cutting ceremony for the museum was held by the historical society to celebrate the beginning of construction. Mayor Strauss, society president Olive Underwood, and Dr. Washington did the honors.
The celebration comes on the heels of the arrest and subsequent conviction of Fancy Peters, once president of the historical society and longtime proprietor of the souvenir kiosk at Newbridge Station, for the murder of Todd Luna. Luna formerly owned the church site and planned to raze it to make way for condominiums.
When asked if the city regretted the economic loss of the condominium development, the mayor replied, “The museum will bring in tourist dollars, and that’s good for Newbridge, too.”
The event was catered by Bethany Bradstreet, who declined to comment for this piece.
THANK YOU FOR READING this book! Your Amazon review is greatly appreciated. Keep reading for great recipes and a sneak preview of Rest in Split Peas, the second book in the series.
Recipes
Corn Chowder
CORN CHOWDER IS THE perfect soup for almost any season. It’s also the perfect base to add vegetables, meat, or seafood!
Ingredients
2 Tb butter
1 Tb olive oil
1 cup chopped onion
½ cup chopped celery
½ cup chopped carrots
1 Tb minced garlic (or ½ Tb garlic powder)
¼ cup flour
6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
2 cups cream or half-and-half
2 russet potatoes, peeled and diced
6 ears of corn (or 4-5 cups of canned or frozen corn)
Salt and pepper to taste
Basil or chive oil (see recipe)
Directions
Heat 2 Tbs butter and 1 Tb olive oil in a large pot over medium heat. Sautee the onion, celery, carrots, and garlic until soft. Add flour and stir to coat.
Add the stock and bring to a boil before adding the cream and diced potatoes. Boil for 7–8 minutes until the potatoes are very soft.
Slice the kernels from the ears of corn and add to the pot. Simmer for about 10 minutes, until the corn is soft.
(If you use frozen corn or canned corn, only simmer until heated through—additional cooking time could make the corn tough.)
For a thicker consistency, blend half of the soup and add it back to the pot. Season with salt and pepper. Serve dotted with basil or chive oil or sprinkled with fresh herbs.
Fragrant Herb Oil
HERB-FLAVORED OILS can be used to garnish soups, dip breads, and dress salads.
Ingredients
½ cup packed fresh herbs such as basil, chives, cilantro, or parsley.
1 cup olive oil
Directions
Puree the herbs and oil in a blender until smooth. In a small pot, simmer the mixture over medium heat for one minute. Carefully pour the oil through a fine strainer into a heat-proof container or jar, then strain it again through a coffee filter. Stir the oil as it filters if the filter becomes clogged.
Use oils made with fresh herbs within 24 hours of making. Dilute with more olive oil to desired strength before serving.
Grilled Vegetables
WHETHER YOU COOK THEM indoors or out, these vegetables can be added to soups and make an excellent side dish on their own.
Ingredients
Vegetables of your choice, such as:
Mushrooms
Cherry tomatoes
Bell peppers, cut into pieces
Zucchini, sliced into rounds
Yellow squash, sliced into rounds
Marinade of your choice, such as:
¼ cup olive oil
1 Tb minced garlic
2 Tb lemon juice or red wine vinegar
½ tsp dried oregano
Salt and pepper to taste
Directions
Whisk together marinade ingredients and season with salt and pepper.
If you’re grilling, push vegetable pieces onto skewers, then brush each skewer with marinade and place on a baking sheet. If you’re using the oven, toss vegetables with marinade in a bowl, then spread coated vegetables onto a baking sheet.
Light your grill or preheat your oven to 400 degrees F while the veggies sit for 15 minutes so the flavor of the marinade can infuse them.
Grill or roast vegetables until tender, approximately 10-12 minutes. Serve warm.
Crime Chowder
BETHANY’S INFAMOUS re-constructed, deconstructed chowder! It’s a crowd-pleaser—just leave your pocket pistol out of it.
Ingredients
1 recipe corn chowder
1 recipe grilled vegetables, chopped after cooking
2 cups chopped, cooked cherrystone clams (or two 10-ounce cans baby clams, drained)
1 recipe basil oil
Directions
In a large pot, combine the corn chowder, grilled vegetables, and clams. Bring to a simmer over medium heat, stirring occasionally to prevent scorching.
Serve topped with a few drops of basil oil.
Bethany’s Best Cookies
THESE COOKIES ARE AS close to an orange creamsicle as you can get in cookie form! Buttery, melt-in-your mouth little cookies that are great with tea or coffee. While Sharky enjoyed a cookie in the story, these are not for dogs!
Ingredients
1 cup butter (softened to room temperature)
¼ cup sugar
1 cup flour
1 tsp vanilla extract
seeds from ½ vanilla bean (or an additional 1 tsp vanilla extract)
1 tsp fresh orange juice
orange zest
Directions
Heat oven to 350 degrees.
Whip butter and sugar until fluffy. Mix in flour, then add vanilla extract, vanilla bean seeds, orange juice, and orange zest.
Mix well, adding flour if necessary until dough is stiff. Roll into a ball, then pat down into a flat circle. Wrap in plastic wrap and refrigerate for 15 minutes (but no more than 30 or it will be too hard to roll out).
After chilling, roll the dough between sheets of parchment paper to a quarter-inch thick. Use a small glass or round cutter to cut into circles.
Transfer cookies to a parchment-covered baking s
heet. Bake 15–20 minutes, until the edges are golden brown. Transfer cookies to a rack to cool.
Yield: 18–24 cookies, depending on how large you make them.
RISKY BISQUENESS
A Death Du Jour Novelette (Book 1.5)
Chapter 1
Honor Roll Bakery
BETHANY BRADSTREET brushed the flour off her hands. “What do you think?”
Olive peered over her shoulder at the loaves Bethany had shaped in the special ridged baguette pan. “Put them in the rising rack for an hour or two, and we’ll bake them off just in time for the lunch rush. Nothing like the smell of bread in the oven to get people through the door.”
As if on cue, the bells on the door to the street jangled. A trio of pre-teens crowded up to the counter, waving slips of pink paper. The tallest, a girl with purple streaks in her hair and a skateboard under her arm, spoke for the group. “We want our free cookies!”
Bethany took the paper from her hand. It was an Honor Roll coupon that promised one free chocolate chip cookie to the holder. She collected the other two slips and tucked the coupons under the cash drawer in the register. “You got it.” She passed three cookies wrapped in waxed paper to the kids.
“Wicked,” the girl said, and her friends echoed her. “Wicked.” They pushed six more slips across the counter toward her.
“Did you photocopy these?” she teased, checking the coupons for authenticity.
“No, lady! As if.” The purple-haired girl looked disgusted.
Bethany nodded, feeling ancient at the ripe old age of twenty-eight. She put the half dozen additional cookies in a bag and handed them across the counter. The bells on the door jangled again, and Bethany glanced up, a smile spreading across her face at the sight of her good friends Kimmy and Charley. Arm-in-arm, they made a beeline for the bakery counter. Kimmy’s long braids were wrapped into a high bun and a flower was tucked behind her ear—not her usual look when she was heading to work. She must have made a special effort to dress up this morning.
“Breakfast date?”
Kimmy nodded and blushed a little. She’d only recently started dating Charlene Perez, Newbridge’s newest detective. Both women worked unusual hours, Kimmy as a sous chef at Café Sabine across the street, and Charley at the police station downtown, so breakfast was often the only time they had together. “What do you have on the specials menu?”
Bethany checked the board. “Textbook Avocado Toast, Pop Quiz Popovers, and Extra Recess Éclairs.” All the offerings at the Honor Roll were school themed; Olive had been a middle school teacher for twenty-five years before she opened the bakery inside Newbridge Train Station. In fact, she’d been Kimmy’s sixth-grade social studies teacher.
“Éclairs!” Charley said. “And please don’t make a cop-donut joke.”
“And coffee,” Kimmy added. “Coffee would be great.”
“You got it. Find a seat and I’ll bring it over.” Bethany grabbed a couple of plates and slid éclairs from the case onto them while Olive poured the coffees. She balanced the plates on one arm and grasped the handles of the two mugs with the other hand. “OK if I take a break for a few?”
Olive nodded absentmindedly as she drizzled glaze over a batch of Multiplication Muffins. Bethany whisked the pastries and coffee to the window table that Kimmy and Charley had chosen. “I’m not going to hijack your date,” she said as she slid into one of the old-fashioned library chairs. “Just need to sit for a few. I’ve been on my feet since five o’clock this morning!”
“How are you liking the new gig?” Charley asked around a mouthful of éclair, motioning to the bakery.
“Olive’s great. I could use more hours, but...” Bethany shrugged. “I’ll take what I can get. Hopefully I’ll be able to pay my half of the rent again soon, but I don’t think I can this month.” Kimmy had been carrying her for a couple of months now, and the guilt gnawed at Bethany’s stomach. They’d been roommates since culinary school, but Bethany had never had to ask such a big favor from her best friend before.
Kimmy shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I know you’d do the same for me if the situation were reversed. And who knows, it might be soon. Monsieur Adrian isn’t very happy with me at the moment.”
Charley raised an eyebrow over the rim of her coffee mug. “Who could be mad at you? You’re like the sweetest person ever.”
Kimmy gave Charley a loving look that reminded Bethany she was definitely the third wheel at the table. “Of course you think so. But I’ve sort of basically directly disobeyed him. And he found out. And then I did it again.”
Bethany’s jaw dropped. It wasn’t like Kimmy to deliberately defy her boss. She was the kind of chef who always followed the recipe. “What did you do?”
“The right thing!” Kimmy crossed her arms, her mouth pressed in a thin line.
Charley reached across the table to squeeze her shoulder. “Of course you did.”
“Let me guess. You gave away free food to a deserving customer.” Bethany grinned.
“No—well, actually, now that you mention it, yes. There’s this skinny cat that’s been hanging around the back door, begging for scraps. So I let him in and gave him some leftovers. Little bit of Provençal salmon, little bit of chicken velouté. Stuff like that.”
Charley wrinkled her nose. “Isn’t it against health department code to have a cat in the kitchen?”
“I only feed it in the hallway, not in the kitchen.”
Bethany chuckled. The kitchen door at Café Sabine was saloon-style so the servers could push in and out without using their hands. It definitely could not keep out a determined cat—the bottom of the door was eighteen inches of air.
Kimmy glared at both of them across the table. “It’s not my fault that he followed me in! I put him out right away.”
“But not before your boss saw?” Charley asked.
Kimmy nodded sheepishly. “He said it’s me or the cat. I can’t let the kitty go hungry, though! He’s the sweetest. He has this little chirpy meow, and he follows me around like he’s on a leash. I call him Orange Guy.”
Charley frowned. “Want me to call Animal Control to come get him? They’ll give him a warm bed and some food, at least.”
Kimmy shook her head. “He belongs to a bathrobe-wearing creep who lives in the building behind the café. The guy has a bunch of cats, and I don’t think he feeds any of them. The others are too shy to get close to, though. Orange Guy is the only one who is brave enough to ask me for handouts. Once I even saw him drag a fish tail over to feed some of the others.”
“Aw! We should adopt him!” Bethany clutched her chest like her heart was going to burst right out of it.
Charley tapped the badge pinned to her navy blue blazer. “Can’t let you do that. You can report the owner dude for animal neglect, but if you take any other action, you’re just a pet thief. And honestly, I’ve had it up to here with thieves.” She drew a line across her forehead to emphasize her point. Kimmy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed by Charley’s dedication to the law.
Bethany shook her head. “I was just speaking hopefully, anyway. Our landlord doesn’t allow pets.”
“I’m going to keep feeding him!” Kimmy jutted out her chin. “I’ll just do it outside so Monsieur Adrian doesn’t argue, and I’ll report the creepy owner.”
Charley sighed. “If you feed Orange Guy, there will be no evidence the cat’s being neglected, Kimmers. Animal Control won’t take your report seriously, and it’ll just perpetuate the situation. Stop feeding the darn cat and let the system do its job!”
“I’m not letting him starve!” Kimmy pushed her chair back and looked ready to bail on the date.
“Nobody’s saying you should,” Bethany assured her, even though Charley had said exactly that. She felt slightly guilty that the topic, which only came up because of her new job at the Honor Roll, had derailed their romantic breakfast. Both Kimmy and Charley were staring at the ceiling, floor, out the window—at anything
but each other. Maybe changing the subject would help. She turned to Charley. “You said you’re tired of thieves? What does that mean?”
Charley perked up. “Oh, someone’s been breaking into Newbridge businesses at night. Stealing electronics, mostly. Seems like every night, there’s a new burglary, but I haven’t gotten a solid lead yet.”
“That’s terrible! Should we be worried about the bakery?”
Charley nodded. “Lock up tight, make deposits daily, take home stuff like laptops. You, too,” she said to Kimmy. “I don’t want to be down here investigating more break-ins. I’m getting really sick of sticky fingers!”
Kimmy’s shoulders relaxed, and she leaned forward. “We’ll be careful.”
Behind her, Bethany heard Olive let out a frustrated sigh at the counter. “On that note, I better go get these sticky.” She wiggled her fingers at Kimmy, coaxing a smile out of her. “Good luck with Orange Guy. Give him some pets from me.” She glanced back over her shoulder as she left the table and was happy to see her two friends holding hands as they downed the rest of their breakfast. Apparently Kimmy had forgiven Charley for being so businesslike about the cat situation and the date was back on track.
“Sorry. That took longer than it should have,” she said to Olive, slipping back into her apron.
“No, it’s not that. Just look at this mess!” Olive gestured to the flour bins under the counter. Some of the flour had spilled onto the floor.
Bethany knelt down to get a better look and saw that the flour hadn’t spilled from the top of the bin, but from the bottom. A telltale hole had been gnawed in the bottom of the bin. Charley had warned about thieves, but Bethany hadn’t expected them to be of the rodent variety! “Mice?”
“Sh! Not so loud!” Olive crouched down beside her and lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think so. This is the third time this month. Last week they got into the sugar.”