Inherit the Word (The Cookbook Nook Series)

by Gerber, Daryl Wood

  Sam jerked his chin reflexively.

  “Her assault startled you. You dropped the gun or whatever weapon you showed up with. Maybe Natalie retrieved it, maybe not. You didn’t waste time going after it. You saw another weapon, a discarded panini grill, and you remembered what Lola had said on The Pier. You grabbed it and hit Natalie upside the head. Then you ran.”

  “This is insane,” Sam said. “You’re cuckoo.”

  “Mitzi, you track Sam’s comings and goings via GPS, right?”

  Mitzi blinked a yes.

  I said, “Sam went to and from the MONEY conference the day Natalie died, didn’t he?”

  “I was there the whole day,” Sam countered. “You can check.”

  “I did check,” I said. “On a whim. And yes, the conference coordinator remembers seeing you there, but she can’t confirm you stayed the whole time. I think you went back and forth. It’s an hour’s drive, maybe less if you speed. You ran up the mileage on your car that day, which is why you’ve been riding your bicycle this past week, to keep the mileage down in case anyone got curious.”

  Sam huffed.

  “Here’s the rest of my theory. You purchased a ticket to San Diego. There’s a suitcase by your feet. But you’re not planning to run away with another woman. You’re heading south alone so you can exit the country through Tijuana. You were seen signing all sorts of documents at the bank. Did you create an offshore account, Sam? Is that where you stashed all your skimmed earnings?”

  Mitzi whispered, “Sam?”

  “Willie was onto you, wasn’t he, Sam?” I went on. “He wasn’t as dumb as he made out. He figured the books weren’t adding up. But Willie wasn’t altruistic. He wanted in on your moneymaking scheme. That’s what you two were arguing about that day outside the Word, not his childrearing skills. You knew you had to get rid of him. You arranged to meet him at the motel, then you borrowed Ellen’s coat. It’s short on you. You put on makeup, including Mitzi’s red lipstick, the lipstick Ellen found in her coat pocket.” I eyed Mitzi. “You’re missing a lipstick, right? Sassy Woman Red.”

  Mitzi bit her lip and nodded.

  “Do you own any wigs?”

  “Three,” she muttered. “I wear them when my roots are showing.”

  “Is one short and spiky, like Ellen’s hair?”

  “No.” She faltered. Her eyes fluttered.

  “Sam cut one of them, didn’t he?” I held out my hand hoping Mitzi would relinquish the gun. She didn’t.

  “Mitzi, don’t listen to her,” Sam said.

  But Mitzi was listening. She wasn’t as wild-eyed as before.

  “Willie killed Natalie,” Sam said.

  “Willie figured out the discrepancies,” I countered. “That’s why he went to the bank teller and asked her about the diner’s finances. Soon after, Willie was seen arguing with Mitzi.” Without losing sight of Sam, I said, “Mitzi, Willie must have believed you were in on the scam. A witness said you called him ‘loco,’ but he confirmed what you already suspected.”

  “You’re the one who’s crazy,” Sam said. He glanced at the exit door leading to the alley behind the diner. “None of this is true. And, for your information, I have an alibi for the night Willie died. I was home with my wife. I was making calls all around town looking for Willie. I spoke to lots of people. Tell them, Mitzi.”

  She said, “I . . . I . . .”

  “You didn’t see or hear him, did you, Mitzi?” I said. “You were busy doing your beauty routine. He slipped out without you noticing. Using a cell phone, he could have made those calls from anywhere in town. After you killed Willie, Sam, you dialed me to set the time of murder after ten P.M. Maybe you thought if I told the police about the call, it would be taken more seriously.” I eyed Mitzi. “Sam is ready to let you take the fall, Mitzi. Why else would he have put your lipstick in Ellen’s coat pocket?”

  “No,” Sam said.

  Mitzi whimpered.

  “What I can’t figure out, Mitzi, is why you didn’t turn in Sam the moment you suspected he was a murderer, but then it dawned on me. You didn’t because love is blind.”

  “Not anymore.” Bitterness flooded Mitzi’s words. “The blinders are off. I tried to help you better yourself, Sam, but you’re not worthy of me. I’m through with you.” She aimed the barrel of the gun at him. “Through.”

  Sam retreated a step. “Babe, I didn’t do any of what she’s saying. I love you. Willie killed Natalie. She knew he was an abuser. She was going to turn him in. Willie admitted it to me that day on The Pier.”

  I thought of Tito, with his pec-flexing moves, and my old coworker, who was now the muscle-bound co-owner of a gym, and said, “Good try, Sam, but Willie wasn’t physically strong enough to kill Natalie.”

  “Are you kidding? He was built.”

  I grinned. “Willie may have appeared fit, but he pushed like a girl. I remember you strong-arming him on The Pier, Sam, and the other day, Rhett’s dog nearly knocked Willie off balance when the dog jumped up for a pat on the head.” I addressed Ellen. “Willie had chest implants, didn’t he?”

  Ellen whispered, “Yes.”

  “Did he also have his abs etched?”

  She nodded grimly.

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. One of the models we used at Taylor & Squibb did the same. He looked like he could bench press three hundred pounds, when in reality, he could merely press sixty.”

  Ellen said, “Willie wanted to be a surfer in the worst way, but he hated how weak his body looked.”

  “The surgery prevented him from being able to wield a punch,” I said. “He was a quiet bully. He pinched, he ridiculed, but he didn’t hit. And he couldn’t have fought off you, Sam. You cornered him. You shot him at the motel at close range. With your wife’s gun.”

  Mitzi ogled the weapon in her hand. A cry of despair escaped her lips.

  In that moment of distraction, Sam charged Mitzi. He wrenched the gun from her hand and slung an arm around her neck. “Stand back”—he dragged her toward the exit—“or I’ll kill her.” He aimed the gun at her head.

  “Sam, don’t.” Mitzi gurgled. “Stop. I’ll get you help.”

  “You’re the one who needs help, babe,” he snarled. “You drink too much. You concoct all these ridiculous fantasies of me having affairs. I loved you, but after a while, it all became too much of a hassle.”

  “Turn yourself in, Sam,” I said.

  “Shut up.” He pointed the gun at me.

  My insides turned to mush. Where in the heck were the police? I glimpsed the knives and pots, still out of reach, and the salad bowl, still too lightweight. I peeked to my right. Two paces away I spied a row of empty plates sitting on a counter beneath warming lights.

  Wait for it. Wait for it.

  As Sam reached backward with his hand to open the exit door, I darted to the counter. I grabbed the top plate and hurled it like a Frisbee at Sam. It nailed him in the ribs. Sam stumbled. Mitzi twisted in his arms and elbowed him in the ear while letting rip with a slew of curse words. At the same time, Mayor Zeller and the Mumford sisters, each armed with frying pans, charged him and tackled him. All of the women and Sam fell into a pile.

  Seconds later, the door leading to the diner opened and Cinnamon hobbled in on crutches. Her ankle was bound with aqua blue tape. The fireman—Bucky—hurried in after her. So did the Moose, gun aimed at the melee.

  “Okay, break it up,” Cinnamon yelled.

  “Sam’s the killer,” I shouted.

  She arched an eyebrow then gestured to her deputy to aim his weapon at Sam, who was trying, without success, to fight off the enraged women. “Want to tell me what went down here?”

  “I called you,” I said. “Didn’t you hear anything?”

  “No.”

  I pulled my cell phone from my pocket. The face was dark; the call hadn’t gone through. How I hated dead zones. “Then why did you come to the diner?”

  “Your aunt contacted me.”

  Right. I’d forgott
en that I’d asked her to do so. I provided a quick recap. “I believe the black box for the GPS tracking will give you what you need to prove that Sam drove to and from Crystal Cove on the day of the murder.” I told her about the trash, the gloves, and the possibility that Sam had money stowed in an offshore account. I said, “Did you happen to find a cigarette butt at the scene of the crime?”

  “We did.”

  “You might want to test it for Sam’s DNA. I believe he has a burn on his neck.”

  Cinnamon looked semi-impressed. I didn’t expect more.

  “What happened to you?” I said.

  “Bucky and I were on a date. We went roller skating.”

  “But you’re an ace skater.”

  “He isn’t.” Cinnamon grinned. “He lost control, grabbed me for support, and before you know it, we crash-landed.”

  “I’m such a klutz,” Bucky said.

  But cute. I thought of the Lovers tarot card Cinnamon had drawn from my aunt’s tarot deck and grinned.

  “Luckily, nothing is broken,” Cinnamon said, “but the doctor wants to keep my ankle bound so it doesn’t swell up.”

  Wasn’t this an interesting turn of events? Bucky was one of Rhett’s good friends. Perhaps if Bucky and Cinnamon continued to date, he could convince her of Rhett’s innocence in the arson, and the four of us could double-date and . . .

  A girl could dream.

  Chapter 31

  I RETURNED TO the Cookbook Nook. Fans of the Grill Fest were still hovering about. No one seemed aware of what had occurred at Mum’s the Word, but my father and my aunt weren’t born yesterday. They sidled up to me. My aunt nudged me with a hip. I gave the two of them the same quick recap I had provided at the diner.

  Aunt Vera tapped the crystal hanging around my neck. “Good thing you were wearing this.”

  “Indeed.”

  “C’mon,” my father said, ever the cynic. “You don’t believe a crystal had anything to do with the outcome, do you, Tootsie Pop?”

  “Actually, I do, Dad.”

  “Swell.” He glowered at my aunt. “Vera, is your intention to turn our entire family into a bunch of hippie-dippy New Age thinkers?”

  “Watch it, Cary.”

  “Hey,” I said, eager to end their feud. “What’s going on over there?” I aimed a finger at Katie, who was chatting up Keller in the hall by the tier of snacks. Keller was yuk-yukking at something Katie said.

  “He asked her for a date,” Aunt Vera replied. “Aren’t they adorable?”

  I surveyed the rest of the shop. Customers were swarming Tito, who was signing autographs. “And over there?”

  “That Tito.” My aunt tsked. “He brought preprinted recipe cards with him, in case he won. I think he dreams of adding a food column in the newspaper.”

  “And over there?” I hitched my chin toward the stockroom. Bailey stood with a tall man, shaved head, stunning cheekbones, and a thin mustache. “Jorge, I assume.” I remembered my aunt saying he was “easy on the eyes.” He sure didn’t look like an aeronautics engineer. Bad me for stereotyping. Back at Taylor & Squibb, I could have lost an account that way.

  Dad grunted. “I’m not so sure about him now that I’ve had a few more minutes with him.”

  “Minutes? That’s all it takes?” I teased.

  “That’s all it took with—” He halted.

  I knew what he’d wanted to say: with David. My mother wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been won over by David’s charms. I had battled them right up until the wedding. Why do twentysomething kids put up such a fight with parents? I wondered. Would I have kids who would do the same to me? I gulped. Did I want children? I had a cat.

  “It’s okay, Dad.” I patted his arm.

  “This Jorge guy is edgy, that’s all,” my father added. “Bailey deserves a guy who’s nice and kind, like . . .” He scanned the room until his gaze landed on someone.

  I followed the direction. “Like Rhett.”

  Rhett stood at the counter scratching Tigger’s neck. The kitty rubbed his cheek against Rhett’s palm.

  “He’s a good man, Jenna.”

  “I agree wholeheartedly, but I need to know all about him before I jump into a relationship.”

  • • •

  A WEEK LATER, by the time the town had settled back into a rhythm, Rhett and I had set a date for a hike, and Cinnamon and I had gone for coffee. Also, with my father’s help and David’s mother’s cooperation, I was able to contact and reimburse all of the clients David had deceived. The relief I felt was infinite.

  I was thrilled to hear that Norah was staying in Crystal Cove to help her sister with the restaurant. They intended to keep it open and build the clientele, if possible. Sam was booked on two charges of murder. Mitzi was facing charges of obstruction, but she had hired the best defense attorney in the state and, according to gossip, was bound to get off with community service, because a jury often ruled in favor of a duped woman in love.

  Pepper, true to form, didn’t like that Cinnamon was dating a fireman and came into our shop often to voice her concern. I doubted that she had ever liked anyone her daughter had dated, and I vowed to put more thought into creating a happy potion for her.

  Was there a cookbook with that kind of recipe?

  Recipes

  From Aunt Vera:

  I gave this idea to Katie. Can you see me preening? It’s one of my favorite sandwiches. Perfect for lunch or brunch. The cinnamon adds just a hint of flavor. It’s like apple pie with a pack of protein, thanks to the turkey. Also, just so you know, cream cheese is a nifty little trick for any grilled cheese. When spread on the inside of a sandwich, it heats up fast and helps the other ingredients melt evenly. Enjoy.

  Brie, Apple, and Turkey

  Grilled Cheese

  (makes 2 sandwiches)

  4 slices bread

  4 tablespoons butter

  4 tablespoons cream cheese

  1 teaspoon cinnamon

  1 green apple, sliced thin

  6 ounces Brie cheese, sliced, rind trimmed off

  6 ounces cooked turkey, sliced thinly

  Butter each slice of bread on one side. Spread the cream cheese on the other side of the bread. Sprinkle with cinnamon. (Note: This is the inside of the sandwich; the butter side is the outside.)

  To assemble: Top two slices of bread, cream cheese side up, with turkey. Place Brie cheese slices on top of turkey. Place apples on top of the cheese. Set the other slice of bread on top of the sandwich and press slightly.

  If cooking on a stovetop: Heat a large skillet over medium heat for about 2 minutes. Set the sandwiches on the skillet and cook for 4 minutes, until golden brown. Flip the sandwiches with a spatula and cook another 2 to 4 minutes. You can compress the sandwich with the spatula. Turn the sandwich one more time. Press down with the spatula and remove from the pan. Let cool about 2 to 3 minutes and serve.

  If cooking on a panini grill or sandwich maker: Set the sandwich on the grill surface and slowly lower the top. Cook for a total of 4 minutes. Remove from the griddle and let cool 2 to 3 minutes, then serve. Beware—the cheese filling might ooze out the sides. If the lid is too heavy, you might want to consider resorting to the stovetop method.

  From Jenna:

  Knowing how much I love ice cream, my aunt bought me a countertop ice-cream maker. And then Katie, who remembered how much I’d raved about Keller’s caramel macchiato ice cream, wheedled this recipe out of him. She said it was a cinch. Yeah, right. Anyway, she walked me through the first batch, and it wasn’t that hard. Katie says the trick to making homemade ice cream—which I guess Keller knew, too—is making sure there isn’t too much “moisture” in the mixture. Moisture, aka water, turns to ice in the freezer. I guess there’s a lot of water in milk. Who knew? Hence, you’ll see evaporated milk in these ingredients. I’ve got to say, yum! If you’re really daring, try making your own caramel sauce. Katie included that recipe below.

  Caramel Macchiato Ice Cream

  (serves 6
–8)

  1 cup whipping cream

  2 tablespoons espresso coffee (brewed, liquid)

  3/4 cup sugar

  1/8 teaspoon salt

  1 12-ounce can low-fat evaporated milk

  3 large egg yolks

  3/4 cup caramel dessert sauce (I used Smucker’s)

  In a saucepan, over medium heat, cook cream, espresso, 1/4 cup of the sugar, salt, and evaporated milk. Cook for 3 to 5 minutes, until tiny bubbles form around the edges. Do not boil.

  Remove from heat and let stand 10 minutes.

  In a medium bowl, combine the remaining 1/2 cup sugar and egg yolks. Stir well. Gradually add the hot milk mixture to the egg mixture, stirring constantly.

  Return the mixture to the saucepan. Cook over medium heat for 3 to 5 minutes, until tiny bubbles form again. Do not boil.

  Remove the pan from the heat. Cool at room temperature and then set in the refrigerator for 2 hours.

  Pour chilled mixture into ice-cream maker and freeze according to manufacturer’s instructions.

  Transfer half of the ice cream to a freezer-safe container, then spread half of the caramel sauce on top. Top with remaining ice cream, then remaining caramel sauce. Using a knife, swirl the caramel through the ice cream.

  Cover and freeze for at least 2 hours.

  From Katie:

  Making your own caramel sauce isn’t that hard. And it takes no time at all! Enjoy.

  Caramel Sauce à la Katie

  (yield: 1 cup)

  2 tablespoons water

  1 cup sugar

  6 tablespoons butter

  1/2 cup whipping cream

  Note: Making caramel is a fast process, so have everything ready . . . right next to the pan. You don’t want the sugar to burn. Promise! Also, the sugar gets really hot, so wear oven mitts. Okay? Ready . . . go.