Killer Comfort Food (A Farm-to-Fork Mystery Book 5)

by Lynn Cahoon

  Catering Adele’s birthday party had been an order more than a request, even though her business wouldn’t be completely up and running for a month or so. The planning for the event had gone smoothly, like an aged Southern whiskey. The final prep list for Saturday’s party sat finished on her kitchen table in the apartment. James, the chef at the Lodge, had allowed her time to prep in his kitchen tomorrow evening. By Sunday, she’d have a successful reference in the books for Mia’s Morsels. Now, without warning, the triumph she’d hoped for was slipping through her fingers.

  “Add one, maybe two more, to the guest list. Who knows who he’ll bring from Arizona to help me celebrate?” Adele shoved a piece of paper toward her.

  Mia glanced down. A name had been scrawled on the torn piece of notepaper: William Danforth III. She hadn’t known Adele had any living relatives, let alone a nephew. “How nice. Are you two close?”

  A harsh laugh came from the woman. “Close? I wasn’t kidding about the money. He’s checking on his inheritance. I’m pretty sure he thought I’d be dead by now.”

  “Now, Adele, at least he’s visiting.” Grans picked up Mr. Darcy, Mia’s black cat who’d wandered into the room. He’d probably been sleeping in one of the empty southern classrooms where the afternoon sun warmed the wood floors. He curled into her neck and started purring. Loudly.

  Unfortunately, during a late summer visit to Grans’s house, Mr. Darcy had picked up a hitchhiker. The spirit of Dorian Alexander, who had been Grans’s beau before his untimely death, had taken up residence with Mia’s cat. A fact that weirded Mia out at times, especially at night when Mr. Darcy slept on the foot of her bed. Mia really needed to get Grans focused on a reversal spell. But this wasn’t the time to be chatting about spells and power. Instead she focused on Adele and her party.

  “I’m sure he’s…” Mia stopped. What had she been going to say? That Adele’s nephew was nice? If the guy had any of Adele’s temperament, the guy would be a royal jerk.

  Adele waved away her words, her hands showing her impatience. “Let me worry about Billy. You’re serving beef tomorrow.” The words weren’t a question.

  “I’d planned to serve squab with raspberry sauce and wild rice for the main course.” Mia held her breath. Please no last-minute changes—please.

  “That won’t do at all.” Adele watched as Mr. Darcy crawled up on Grans’s shoulder. She reached out a hand to pet the cat, who hissed at her. Dropping her hand, she focused her glare on Mia. “My parents ran the Beef Council for years. You had to have known we had the largest cattle operation in the Challis area, maybe even the entire Magic Valley.”

  “I sent you the menu a week ago.” Mia thought about the prep list she’d spent hours writing out last night. A list that would have to be completely revamped if Adele made this change in the menu. “I’m sure you responded.”

  “I’ve been busy. You should have called rather than sending paper.” Adele stepped farther away from the hissing cat. “I don’t remember everything. That’s why I’m telling you now. Oh, and no cake, pie for dessert. Several different types, of course…you’ll know which ones to serve with the beef. I’ve never liked cake.”

  “You already approved the menu,” Mia repeated through clenched teeth. Apparently sensing her distress, Mr. Darcy jumped out of Grans’s arms and walked over to Mia. He curled on her feet, watching the women.

  “I doubt that. No matter, you need to serve beef. It’s a tradition. I’m surprised you didn’t know.” Adele pulled out a beeping phone and after glancing at the display, focused on Grans. “We need to leave now if we’re going to keep our court time.”

  Mia sighed. Trying one more time to win a battle already lost, she asked, “Are you sure you don’t want squab?”

  “The homeless eat pigeon. Porterhouse. Or whatever cut you think is best. You’re the expert.” Adele turned toward the door, pulling Grans along with her.

  That’s what you keep saying. Mia said, “I’ll try, but the party is this weekend.”

  “I’m sure you’ll do your best.” Grans shook off Adele’s grip and turned back to Mia. She planted a kiss on her cheek.

  Mia followed them to the front door. Daylight filtered through the dirt-covered windows. Another item for her to-do list: hire a window cleaner. Mr. Darcy’s soft footsteps padded behind her. “Thanks for stopping in,” she called as they left the building. After the door closed, she added, hoping her grandmother wouldn’t hear, “and ruining a perfectly good day.”

  If she was being honest, though, the ruination of her day had started with Isaac’s call. She reached down to stroke Mr. Darcy. He meowed his wishes.

  “Sorry, your dinner is going to have to wait. I’ve got to get to Majors Grocery,” Mia told the cat, who looked horrified at the thought. She hauled the painting supplies to the kitchen. Her mind whirled as water rinsed the cheery yellow paint out of the roller and down the drain. Her detailed plan of attack for the event had disappeared with a flick of Adele’s perfectly polished, bloodred nails.

  Mr. Darcy wove through her legs as she stood at the sink. Finishing the cleanup, she laid the tools on a towel to dry and double-checked the lock on the back door. Then she climbed the two sets of stairs to the third floor and her apartment.

  Christina Adams, the almost twenty-year-old sister of her ex, jumped up from the couch when Mia entered the apartment. “I thought you were going to paint this afternoon?”

  “I thought you were coming to help just as soon as you finished lunch?” Mia studied the girl. Last month, Christina had returned to Magic Springs. She’d shown up on Mia’s doorstep with a police escort. Mark Baldwin, the town’s only officer, had found her loitering in the small downtown park. Her long blond hair screamed cheerleader, but the bars in her eyebrow and her lip, along with the row of piercings in her ear, hardened the look.

  Christina had been planning on starting college this semester after spending last year in Las Vegas, trying to make it as a dancer after some bad advice from her substitute dance coach. Now, after one more fight with the family, she’d tracked Mia down and asked if she could live with her for a while. Mia didn’t have the heart to turn her away, even if Mia wouldn’t be a part of the Adams family, now or ever.

  She had the decency to blush. “I’m not really good at all that painting stuff. Maybe I could just help you with the cooking rather than the remodeling.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I have a feeling we’re going to have to pull an all-nighter if we want to finish prep before the party. And now we have to bake pies, as well.” She went into the kitchen to get her list. “I’m heading over to Majors. Be ready to work when I get back.”

  Mia heard the television come on as her only answer. Training Christina to be a sous chef might be harder than she’d imagined. Running her fingers over the cookbook she’d left out that morning with the prep list, she remembered Isaac’s call. Could there be another reason Isaac’s sister had come to live with Mia? She locked her cookbook in the safe in her room. She’d been stupid before. Today she’d take paranoid.

  Where was she going to get thirty servings of steak by tomorrow evening? And the side dishes had to completely change. Adele was paying for both grocery orders, no matter what Grans said.

  She hoped the small country store had enough meat on hand. Or an idea.

  As she opened the front door, she tripped over an envelope. The delivery service must have dropped it off late yesterday. They’d been busy in the kitchen, doing a trial run-through of the menu. The return address on the top was smeared, but the envelope was clearly addressed to Christina. Mia shoved the envelope into her purse. She’d give it to her when she got back. Or after the party, when she wouldn’t mind losing her apprentice.

  A dusting of snow had fallen the night before, coating the town in white. Magic Springs looked like a Dickens’s novel Christmas. The roads had been plowed. Someone had run a small blade—prob
ably on the front of a four-wheeler —over the sidewalks in front of the school and down the two blocks toward Majors. Small towns, Mia mused. No way had the city paid for this type of service. It had to be one of the homeowners in the village who donated their early morning service for the pleasure of driving their toy around the snow-covered streets.

  Mia took a deep breath, trying to focus on solving her menu problems rather than being filled with the quiet beauty of the town. Beef. Maybe a garlic mashed potato? Or a scalloped? Or would Adele consider the menu too homey for her party? Would there be any way Majors could pull off an order of fresh asparagus? It was April, even though the town wouldn’t acknowledge spring for a few weeks at the earliest. There had to be asparagus ready to harvest somewhere.

  Stomping the snow off her boots, she pushed open the glass grocery slider. A bell rang over the door, echoing in the seemingly empty store. No cashier stood at the register; no shoppers filled the aisles. Mia glanced at her watch, five fifteen. The store closed early during the winter, but she’d just made it.

  She grabbed a cart and headed to the butcherblock in the back. The meat case stood empty, and her heart sank. A bell sat on the top of the case, and she rang it once. No one came through the doors. Maybe Adele would just have to suck it up and eat the food Mia had planned to serve.

  Mia could see her grandmother’s frown. Again, she banged on the bell, harder this time, picturing Adele’s unsmiling face each time she hit the silver chime.

  “Hold up,” a man’s voice called from the back. “I heard you the first twenty times. I have my hands full back here.”

  Mia jumped back from the meat case. Her hand still reached out in front of her. She called toward the door, “Okay, I’ll wait here.”

  That was dumb. Of course, she would wait. Now that she’d had some time to think, Mia pulled out a slip of paper and started making a quick shopping list. Peaches, asparagus, more butter, fresh horseradish, potatoes—she continued to write as she waited. Finally, she looked up from her list satisfied. She only needed to add thirty quality steaks. Maybe she should serve a soup too. That would give her more time to grill and prep the main course.

  Loud voices were muffled by the swinging doors. Was that an argument? She inched closer, trying to see through the window in the door. Two men stood by a large metal table. One, dressed in a suit, shook a finger at the other. Now she could hear the actual words. “I’m not making this offer again. I’ll wait and get the property for pennies when it goes to auction.”

  “I’m not losing this store. Majors has been in the family since the settlers came to Magic Springs. It’s part of the community, the town’s history. We’re just going through a bad patch. Everyone is.” The man dropped a box on the table. “I have a customer waiting for me. Unless you’re here to shop, get the heck out of my store.”

  “You’ll regret turning me down.” The suit walked toward the door and caught sight of Mia watching. “Of course, you’d be here. Are you trying to ruin all my business?”

  “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Mia stood back, stunned at the man’s outburst.

  “Why would you?” The man glared at her, then stomped around the counter and almost ran from the store.