by Linda Reilly
“You look wonderful, Talia,” Arthur said. His gray eyes were sharp and focused, and Talia knew he was having a good day. “How’s the leg?”
“Well, I have a bruise the size of Rhode Island, but at least I didn’t break any bones. Connie Parker has one heck of a batting arm.”
She was a thief, as well, the police later discovered. Along with the silver frame and letter opener she’d pilfered from Arthur, a number of other stolen items were found stashed in her cart, including Hannah’s pink scarf.
Arthur tensed at the mention of Connie’s name, and Talia instantly changed the subject. “Before I serve your fish and chips, would you like to sample some new menu items?”
“I’m game.” Ryan’s warm gaze lingered on Talia’s face, and she felt an odd tingle in her chest.
“Will Bea and Howie be joining us?” Arthur asked.
“No. Very soon we’ll be busy with the lunch crowd, so they’re going to hold down the fort, so to speak.”
Talia was grateful Bea had forced her to stay home the past three days to rest from her ordeal at the Pines. She used the downtime to concoct some new recipes and came up with a few that she thought were keepers.
Over the next half hour, Talia treated her special guests to a selection of deep-fried delights—mini hot dogs dribbled with tangy mustard sauce, dill pickle spears with honey-mustard dip—and, of course, her yummy deep-fried meatballs. Tina had given her some tips on creating the sauces, but the meatball recipe was her own. All those years she’d watched Nana prepare them had stuck with her. Thank you, Nana.
Customers began streaming in for lunch and for takeout orders. Bea and Howie swung right back into their old routine and handled it all with ease. Howie didn’t allow his wheelchair to hamper him one iota.
Talia was glad she’d tucked her guests away at a corner table where they could enjoy some privacy. The other diners seemed to glean that a celebration was taking place, and sent head nods and waves in their direction. In spite of all the deep-fried goodies Talia’s mother would have claimed “ruined their appetites,” Ryan and Arthur each put away a massive helping of fish and chips, along with heaps of mushy peas and slaw.
“That was unbelievable.” Ryan grinned and pushed aside his plate. “I don’t think I’ll be able to eat again for at least a week.”
Arthur beamed. “I’ve never enjoyed such delicious fish and chips.” He turned to Talia, his voice cracking with emotion. “Bless you, my dear, for having us as your guests. This has been one of my finest days ever.”
Talia leaned down and hugged Arthur, then excused herself for a moment. She returned with a flat package wrapped in hunter-green tissue paper. “Arthur, this is for you,” she said, presenting it to him.
Arthur stared at it in surprise, and then peeled the wrapping off a slender volume. “Oh my. ‘The Rime of the Ancient Mariner.’”
Talia was proud of her find. She’d scoured the Internet to locate the perfect edition, and this one had wonderful illustrations. “I’m glad you like it, Arthur.”
Arthur turned the pages gently, and his eyes brimmed with tears. “I can’t imagine a more perfect gift,” he said. “Thank you, Talia.”
Talia could still hear Arthur, brilliant and fearless, flinging the lines from the poem at a bewildered Connie Parker. She smiled, and Ryan winked at her. With his dark curls, rimless glasses, and inquisitive gray gaze, he made quite the pleasing picture.
Ryan caught her staring at him, and she felt heat rush into her cheeks. She thought over the events of the past few days.
A killer had been caught—that was a biggie.
Suzy had popped in to see Bea late on Friday. Talia was sorry she’d missed her, especially since Suzy had delivered some exciting news. By next summer she’d be towing a baby girl in her wake, and she and her husband were ecstatic.
Jill had undergone a startling change. With the weight of her personal albatross lifted from her shoulders, she realized she didn’t want to lose Gerry. The two were planning a month-long European vacation together. Talia hoped it would help them heal. Jill had been vastly relieved when the police quietly returned her bracelet to her. With the killer identified, they no longer needed it as evidence.
Talia had chosen not to report Cliff’s actions to the police. She’d recruited her dad to talk to him privately, and Cliff agreed to seek help. The loan shark had vanished, at least for now, but Talia suspected he’d be back. Her dad persuaded Cliff to work with the police if the man ever turned up again.
Ryan leaned forward and touched his dad’s arm. “What do you say, Dad, shall we give these nice people a break and head back to the Pines?”
Arthur’s face fell, but he nodded his assent. “Yes. It wouldn’t be fair to wear out our welcome, would it?”
“Ryan,” Talia said. “I’ve asked my mom and dad to stop by Lambert’s after closing time this evening for some cider and snacks. I have an announcement to make, and it involves Bea and Howie. I’d love it if you and Arthur could join us.”
She’d also texted Rachel an invitation, but hadn’t heard from her yet. Her best friend was still avoiding her, and Talia didn’t know why.
Arthur’s face lit up. “Can we, Ryan?”
Ryan laughed. “Are you sure we won’t be in the way?”
“You won’t be in the way.”
“Then it’s a date,” Ryan said. “I mean, you know …”
Talia smiled. “See you at seven.”
• • •
Talia originally planned to make the announcement wearing a grease-stained Lambert’s apron and her favorite pair of Keds. Looking around, however, she was grateful she’d opted for the denim-blue textured sweater she’d bought three months ago before she left her job in Boston. The paisley infinity scarf Nana had given her two Christmases ago, along with her aquamarine earrings, complemented it perfectly.
Talia’s gaze skimmed the faces of the group gathered before her.
Mom and Dad, holding hands beneath the table, their expressions a combination of curiosity and concern.
Bea and Howie, their bubbly smiles dancing on their faces in anticipation of Talia’s announcement.
And her new friends, Arthur and Ryan, who she hoped would continue to be a part of her life.
Rachel still hadn’t called or texted her. Talia didn’t know if she was more hurt by the snub or angry at Rachel’s insensitivity, but she refused to allow it to tarnish her plans for the evening.
“I don’t want to keep you in suspense any longer,” Talia said, rising from her seat. “Mom, Dad, I know you’ve probably guessed why we’re here, but this makes it official.” She held aloft her steaming mug of hot mulled cider. “You are looking at the future proprietor of Lambert’s Fish and Chips.”
Cries of joy rose from the table. Her mom and dad rushed over to hug her while Ryan pumped his fist and Arthur clapped his applause.
“When will it happen?” her mom pressed. “Will you still call it Lambert’s? Who’s going to work for you? How—”
Talia laughed. “One thing at a time, Mom. December first is the official takeover date, but we’ll be scrambling to get ready for the transfer of ownership during the whole month of November. As for the name …”
“I told her she needs to give it a whole new name,” Bea insisted. “Especially if she’s going to be serving all those lovely new creations!”
“So I’m up for suggestions,” Talia said. “I haven’t done any hiring yet, but that’s in the works.”
“Bea … Howie, what will you two do?” Talia’s dad asked.
Bea giggled like a teenager. “We’re going to spend the winter in Myrtle Beach,” she said. “After that, who knows? If we like what we find, we might just settle there for good.”
Talia stared at the pair. “But … I thought that was your retirement dream!”
“Oh, it was,” Howie said. “But the thought of leaving the Berkshires …” He shrugged. “We’ll take it one step at a time.”
Talia knew she was being selfish
, but part of her—a huge part—hoped they hated it there and came back. She looked over at her folks and smiled. “Mom, Dad, is it okay if I bunk with you for a while? Until I find an apartment I can swing on my own?”
Her mother and father looked at each other for an uncomfortably long moment. Then Talia’s mom said, “No.”
Bea rose from her chair “Whaaa … ?”
“I can’t?” Talia squeaked.
“That’s correct,” Natalie Marby said, sounding more like a school principal than a loving mom. “Two days ago, I received an offer on your Nana’s house.” She sniffled. “A generous one, I might add. I immediately called the twins, and we all came to the same conclusion.” She reached over and took her daughter’s hand. “Talia, we turned down the offer. We want you to have the house.”
Talia felt her heart leap. “But, Mom, even with today’s rates I can’t afford a mortgage on my own.”
“Maybe not, but you can afford the deal we’re offering. The girls and I are going to take back a zero-interest mortgage. Your Aunt Jennie did the math, and she believes you can make it work. More important, your nana’s bungalow will stay in the family, as it should.”
“Oh, Mom. You know you still have to pay the broker’s commission, right?”
Her mom smiled. “We do, but we explained the circumstances and she’s agreed to lower her commission to three percent. We’ll shave the savings off the sale price.”
Hugs were exchanged all around, and Talia caught Ryan grinning at her. A loud bang at the entrance made them all turn around, and the door flew open.
“Sorry we’re late,” Rachel said, striding over to their table. Behind her was a sheepish-looking Derek Westlake, looking handsome in a navy pullover and bun-hugging jeans. He nodded at everyone, blushing when he caught Talia’s stare.
“You? And Derek?” Talia said. “But—”
“Sorry I couldn’t tell you before, Tal.” Rachel’s smile was apologetic. “With Bea under suspicion and Derek involved in the case, I had to lie low for a bit.”
A memory jolted Talia. The night Suzy was following them, Rachel had started to call the police. She’d flicked on her Bluetooth and said the word top before she disconnected. She’d been calling Derek directly. She’d obviously given his number the voice code Top Cop!
Rachel must have been the “little bird” who told Derek what Talia had learned about Kendra and her massage. No wonder that detective had acted so smug!
BFF code, indeed.
A mischievous gleam in her eye, Rachel conveyed a silent message to Talia: No worries, what happened in Turnbull’s office stays in Turnbull’s office.
Talia grinned. There was so much she wanted to ask her friend, but there’d be time for that later. For now, enjoying the company of the people she cared for most was all that mattered.
Derek moved toward Bea. “For the record, Bea, I never thought you killed Turnbull. But the whitefish on the knife threw us all, big time.”
Bea waved a hand at him. “No hard feelings, copper.”
Derek laughed, and he and Rachel pulled up chairs and helped themselves to hot mulled cider. Talia left everyone chattering and laughing and headed into the kitchen. Peggy at the bakery had given her a loaf of chunky apple-cinnamon bread, and Talia had sliced a slab of it into triangular-shaped wedges. One at a time, she swirled each wedge into the sweet batter she’d prepared and lowered them into the fryer. When they were crisp and golden she drained them, dusted them with powdered sugar, and placed them on a serving platter. Noses twitched with anticipated pleasure as she delivered them to her guests.
“I have something I want you all to try,” Talia said. “If you like them, I might start offering them as a seasonal item.”
A sea of hands reached into the platter, and it was soon clear from the moans of pleasure that everyone loved the fried apple-cinnamon bread wedges.
“I’ve got enough batter for one more wedge,” Talia said, when the platter was empty. “Anyone?”
All but Ryan declined. “Sure,” he said. “Go ahead and fry me a sliver.”
“Fry me a sliver,” Talia repeated slowly. “I like it!” In her mind’s eye, she pictured the new sign, hanging in front of the eatery.
When everyone was through and they rose to leave, Talia’s mom pulled her aside. “Honey, this came in the mail for you today.” She winced. “I didn’t know what was inside, and I didn’t want to spoil your evening by giving it to you sooner.”
Mystified, Talia took the legal-sized envelope from her mom. The return address was Chet’s. Heart pounding, she opened it. Inside was a sheet of paper folded around a check.
Hey, Talia. Here’s a check for your half of the furniture. Courtney hated it, so I sold it to my boss, who wanted it for his kid’s new condo on the wharf. Wishing you the best, now and always. Chet.
The check was generous, more than half what she’d contributed to the cost of the furniture. It was almost enough to make a down payment on the bungalow.
Talia kissed her mother’s perfumed cheek. “Don’t worry, Mom, it’s good news. Now why don’t you and Dad come home with me and I’ll introduce you to my new cat.”
RECIPES
BEA’S COLESLAW
½ head of green cabbage, shredded
½ head of red cabbage, shredded
2 medium carrots, shredded
1 large shallot, diced
½ cup mayonnaise
¼ cup sour cream
1 tsp. white sugar
1 tbs. chipotle paste
2 tsp. salt
Finely ground black pepper (to taste, about ¼ tsp.)
Using a box grater or food processor, shred the cabbage and place it into a colander. Sprinkle the salt over the cabbage and combine, then place a plate over the cabbage and weight it with a large can of tomatoes or something of similar weight. Place the colander into a bowl and refrigerate for an hour. This will allow the excess water to drain.
In the meantime, prepare the dressing, whisking together the diced shallot, mayonnaise, sour cream, white sugar, chipotle paste, and ground black pepper.
Drain and rinse cabbage and dry thoroughly with paper towels. Combine cabbage and carrots. Add the dressing a little at a time until you’ve reach your desired consistency. Chill before serving.
Serves 8 to 10
TALIA’S DEEP-FRIED PICKLE SPEARS WITH HONEY-MUSTARD SAUCE
Ingredients for pickles:
Vegetable oil for frying
½ cup all-purpose flour
2 eggs, beaten
½ cup cornmeal
½ tsp. of cayenne pepper
Pinch of salt
16-oz. jar kosher spear pickles, or deli pickles (quartered)
In a heavy pot or Dutch oven, heat 2 inches of oil to 350° (test with a candy thermometer). Place flour in one bowl, beaten eggs in another bowl, and cornmeal in a third bowl. Blend the salt and cayenne pepper into the cornmeal.
Dip the pickles first in the flour, shaking off the excess; dip into the beaten egg, then dredge in the cornmeal mixture to coat. Once the pickles are coated, fry them in small batches for about 30 seconds or until golden brown. Using a slotted spoon, transfer fried pickles to a plate lined with paper towels to drain. Serve while hot with the honey-mustard dipping sauce.
To prepare the honey-mustard sauce, stir together the following ingredients:
¼ cup Dijon mustard
¼ cup mayonnaise
2 tbs. honey
¼ tsp. lemon juice
Pinch of black pepper
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