by Sophie Brent
_________
SOPHIE BRENT
CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
THANK YOU!
SLAY PAIRS WITH ROSE
Book THREE in the Kelly’s Deli Murder Mystery series!
This witty and feel-good culinary cozy mystery features a deli-owning female sleuth, great Italian food and wine, real friends, personal loss, and re-invention.
No cliff-hangers, swearing, intimate or graphic scenes.
“This book will delight fans of TV shows like ‘Midsomer Murders’ and ‘Murder She Wrote’, who love reading cozy mysteries such as the Agatha Raisin and Peridale Café series.”
Gordon Ramsey meets The Thursday Murder Club.
Erin Kelly was thrilled to be asked to make the wedding cake for her friend Zoe’s cousin.
But then the maid of honour goes missing, there is a fire at the hotel and the sumptuous cake goes up in smoke.
Murder has come once again to the village of Kingsmede, and Erin is caught in the middle.
Running an Italian deli in an English country village has never been so deadly!
Chapter One
By the time she was twelve, Erin Kelly had walked down the aisle as a bridesmaid or flower girl more times that she could remember. But the best bit, the part that had stayed with her, was sitting at her kitchen table, watching her mother make the best wedding cakes in Kingsmede.
It didn’t matter if the bride wanted iced fruit cake, chocolate mousse multi-layered towers, or anything in between. Isabella Kelly could transform any wedding cake into a delicious, photo-perfect, jaw-dropping creation that made wedding guests gasp in astonishment.
No pressure then. All Erin had to do was create a wedding cake fit for the celebrity wedding of the year and at the same time prove to every potential bride in Kingsmede that Kelly’s Deli was still the place to come to when they wanted a special cake for their big day. That was all.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled a slow calming breath of the fresh air coming in through the window.
I have the situation totally under control. The wedding is not until tomorrow afternoon.
This cake is going to be perfect.
I can make sugar roses in any colour that Fiona likes.
I will be transformed like Cinderella from a humble deli-owner into a wedding caterer, just in time for the opening of my new bistro.
Swallowing down a moment of panic, Erin studied the photo of the vintage lace pattern on her laptop screen for another few minutes, then turned back to the rolled panel of white fondant icing on her cutting board. With the tip of her scalpel, Erin started work on cutting the lace pattern from the long thin layer of fondant, leaving behind a delicate network that was almost too fine to handle.
With total concentration, she lifted the complete panel onto a cornflour dusted marble roller and painstakingly pieced the ribbon of edible lace around the sides of the second tier of Fiona Hanson’s wedding cake. Using shaping tools and dots of royal icing, Erin adjusted the position of the lacework until the panel fitted perfectly onto the cake, which had already been covered in a thin layer of smooth champagne coloured fondant.
Erin turned the cake on the board, looking for errors in the pattern or missing pieces of lace, adjusting and shaping, piping and smoothing, until she was satisfied that the side panel was a perfect match to the elaborate lace pattern she had already completed for the top of the cake.
Only then did she stretch back in her chair and reach for the water bottle that she had packed with ice cubes earlier that morning. Erin took a long drink and pressed the cool bottle to the back of her neck.
Finally! Both layers of the wedding cakes were decorated.
It was just her luck that the air conditioning in her deli had broken down during the hottest week in August. The service company had promised to come out to Kingsmede sometime next week. Next week! She needed help now, not next week.
Her friend Prisha had borrowed a portable air conditioning unit from her parents so that the shop area of the deli could be kept cool, but it was over thirty degrees outside, and the weather forecast for that weekend predicted even hotter glorious August sunshine. Brilliant for Fiona Hanson’s wedding, but not so brilliant for baking and icing cakes.
Erin had finally got to bed around two that morning, after mixing and preparing all of the fondant and butter-cream icing in the relatively cool and quiet of her kitchen. Then she had worked on the sugar roses and flower decorations, so that they had a chance to dry out and would hold their shape on top of the cake.
The local florist had created a wonderful bride’s bouquet for Fiona, and she had matched it. The sprays of sugar jasmine flowers, pastel shades of hydrangea and pale pink rose blossoms looked stunning set against the champagne-coloured, hand-made fondant icing on the wedding cake.
Erin stepped over to the kitchen sink, hung her baker’s apron on a peg and rinsed her hands and wrists under the cold water tap for a few minutes to wash away any sticky icing or corn flour.
The kitchen windows were wide open to try and catch some of the breeze coming from the trees that lined Kingsmede village green. From her viewpoint, she could see families having picnics on the grass and children running around having fun in the bright sunshine.
It was one of those magical Friday afternoons that were so precious in the summer months in England. Rain and thunderstorms were forecast for next week to break the heatwave, but she didn’t mind that. She loved the seasons. One more reason why her mother couldn’t tempt her to move to Florida and work with her in the Russo family hotel and catering trade.
Erin smiled up at a photograph that her neighbour Lucien Reynolds had taken of her parents shortly after they had married. The young couple was standing outside Kelly’s deli, grinning at the camera with such delight on their faces. They looked so young and in love. Full of hope and excitement about what the future would bring.
Hot tears burnt the corners of Erin’s eyes, but she brushed them away with the back of her finger.
Everything she did came from the wonderful gifts that her parents had given her and the skills they had passed on. Her mother the chef, who was now running a yacht catering business in the Caribbean, and her father, who had been the heart and soul of this deli. She missed him so much. He would have loved seeing this wedding cake and hearing about all of her grand plans for the new Kelly’s bistro. It had always been his dream and now she was going to make it happen.
He had taken a risk when he made this deli her inheritance. Now it was up to her to show that he had made the right choice.
Then Erin glanced at the wall clock and gasped. Where had the time gone to today? She still had to finish decorating the mini cakes for the girls’ dinner party that evening and make more individual rosebuds for the gift bags for the wedding reception.
Of course, it was entirely her own fault for agreeing to make this wedding cake in the first place. But how could she refuse when her friend Zoe had pleaded with her to step in at the last minute to help in an emergency?
Zoe’s cousin Fiona Hanson had planned to work with her mother and make a simple wedding cake for her sma
ll family wedding in Abbotsdown. Then she was hit with a huge new project at work and her whole family had gone down with the summer flu that had just swept through Kingsmede.
End result? No wedding cake and Emma Wilson had stepped in as Fiona’s maid of honour to help to organize the wedding. In her own style!
The cake Fiona specified had to be based on the vintage lace dress and matching veil that had belonged to Fiona’s grandmother. She had asked for the cake to be decorated with sugar flowers the same colour as her bouquet, with no sludgy icing to drip on the precious vintage lace. The pastel pink and ivory colour scheme was simply gorgeous. It was an elegant and classy design which suited Fiona Hanson perfectly.
Fiona had two extra requests when it came to the cake. The bottom layer had to be dark organic chocolate with a Morello cherry jam filling. No dried fruit thank you. With a lemon and vanilla top layer cake for her mother and friends.
The really good news was that Fiona only wanted two tiers for their cozy family wedding and because it was all last minute, Fiona and Emma had approved the cake design by email based on scanned pictures of Erin’s sketches.
Thank you for the sleepless nights Zoe. But it had been worth it. The cakes looked stunning.
After drying her cool hands, Erin grabbed a plastic box of coloured fondants, perfumed with rosewater and vanilla, out of the refrigerator and got back to work.
Resisting the urge to rush ahead, Erin bit her bottom lip as she concentrated on curling the thin layer of pink fondant sugar paste into a range of tight smooth petals identical to the silk rose bud on the table, then stood back and checked the work.
Not bad. Not bad at all. Now all she had to do was make another ten just like it.
Gulping back her panic, Erin turned back to make more rosebuds and had just started moulding the last flower when a familiar voice echoed from the shop.
Her old school friend sauntered into the kitchen. News reporter and photojournalist Zoe Hanson was wearing a smart summer dress and sandals, with a handbag over one shoulder and her camera bag on the other.
“Hey Zoe, you’re back early. How was the wedding rehearsal?”
“Super smooth. St. Peter’s is such a pretty church and on a day like today?” Zoe flicked her hands into the air and grinned. “A photographer’s dream. Even Emma Wilson was impressed with the stained glass and polished wooden pews. The vicar was a bit formal for me, but he’s known our family for years. He wasn’t worried about having to cope the panicking bride, the slightly mad bridesmaids, and a manic maid of honour. It was all good.”
Then she rubbed her hands together. “I left everyone back at the hotel finishing lunch, then the girls have booked a long relaxing session in the spa before the dinner party tonight.”
She gestured with her head towards the marble block where Erin had been working. “Are those for the cake?”
“No, I finished the cake topper at some silly hour of the morning. These are extra rosebuds for decoration and the gift bags.”
Zoe sat silently watching Erin curling a sugar rose petal with tiny tools before pressing it against a darker pink tight centre.
One petal broke into fragments. “Oh no. I think that’s a sign that I need to take a break. Where are the boys?” Erin asked as she packed away the fondant.
“Heading into town for last minute shopping and probably the pub,” Zoe told her and folded her arms. “You already know why I’m here instead of in the hot tub at Abbotsdown Hall. Come on, show me what you’ve been up to! I promise not to breathe a word to Fiona.”
Erin smiled a closed mouth smile and lifted the sugar rose into a wide shallow tray to join the cream and pale pink rosebuds and flowers in various stages of bloom that she had worked on in the cool of the night.
Erin pushed up, pulled a large container out of the huge refrigerator and flipped open the lid.
“I finished the base layer this morning. Have a smell.”
Zoe peered into the round plastic box and inhaled. “Wow. That’s amazing.”
“I started with moist dark chocolate cake, made with the finest Belgian chocolate. The filling is homemade Morello cherry jam and buttercream. You serve this one in very small slices.”
“I had intended to dance at this wedding!”
Zoe peered towards the cake on Erin’s kitchen table. “What’s in the other layer?”
“A special request for Fiona’s mother and aunt. Lemon and vanilla sponge with a fresh lemon curd filling. I’m finishing it with a cream satin ribbon and sugar roses to match the bride’s bouquet. Do you think she’ll like it?”
Zoe chuckled. “She will be in heaven.”
Erin leaned across the table and smiled. “The cakes are ready. Everything is prepped. Give me half an hour and hey presto! We have a wedding cake.”
“This is amazing work, Erin,” Zoe said as she circled the cake, inspecting it from every angle and taking photographs as she went. “They really do look like panels of vintage lace. Fiona is going to be blown away.”
“Thanks, Zoe,” Erin grinned. “I haven’t made a wedding cake in years, so I was a bit worried about whether I could pull it off at this short notice.”
“Fiona is super grateful, and she is going to love the cake. Wait until…” Zoe was about to continue but was interrupted by the ring tone on Erin’s phone.
Erin glanced at the number display, looked up at Zoe and winced, then counted to five in silence before answering the call. “Hello, Kelly’s deli. Hi, Emma. How did the wedding rehearsal go?”
Oh, why did she have to ask that? Stupid girl!
Erin stared at the table and listened for several minutes to the long list of gripes and complaints from Fiona’s maid of honour about why the rehearsal had been a complete disaster, before Emma finally took a breath and Erin had a chance to speak.
“How can I help?” Erin asked in a cheery voice, already dreading what last-minute alterations to the cakes Emma had ordered for Fiona and Ethan’s wedding. There had been three changes yesterday and goodness knows how many the day before.
“You are worried about the wedding cake? Well, you can relax, because I am right on schedule,” Erin smiled and looked down at the cakes on her kitchen table. “Both of the cakes were baked late last night, and I have just finished the icing on the second tier. The party cakes are next on the list.”
She inhaled sharply and glanced at Zoe who was clearly trying not to giggle. “No, Emma. I couldn’t possibly change the cake decoration at this short notice. Fiona approved my sketch last week and seemed very happy with the vintage champagne and pastel theme. Yes, I know peonies are lovely, but Fiona was very keen on having the same roses to match her bouquet. I remember you telling me how important it was to think about this kind of detail.”
Then she closed her eyes. “Well, I am sorry to hear that you have changed your mind about the precise shade of blush pink you wanted for the bride’s bouquet, but I’m sure it will still look stunning. Oh. You think you should change the order and go for peonies instead? And when was this? Half an hour ago? Well yes, I can see that it might be a problem for the florist at this time on a Friday afternoon.”
Erin sat back in her hard kitchen chair and took a couple of deep breaths. Emma Wilson had just decided to change the entire order from a local florist who had ordered those roses especially for this wedding.
Why wasn’t Emma Wilson in the hotel spa with Fiona and the other bridesmaids?
“Now, Emma. There is no need to panic or drive back to London to get more flowers. Calm down. I have an idea. You know that Fiona is wearing that gorgeous vintage lace dress. I think that a bouquet of peonies could be way too big and out of proportion to that delicate gown.”
Erin held the phone away from her ear for a moment and willed Emma to see sense. “Zoe told me that Fiona was so thrilled with the design that you worked on last week. She thought that it was fantastic. Yes, seriously. I would tell the florist that you want to go back to the gorgeous rose bouquet you ordered, just t
he way you planned. Your design looked stunning.”
Erin breathed in through her nose and tried not to scream. “Yes, I still plan to deliver the cake and hen party treats this afternoon. I’ve already spoken to the hotel and it’s not a problem. Of course, I shall drive very carefully all the way to Abbotsdown Hall. See you tomorrow. That’s right. Tomorrow. Bye for now. Bye.”
Erin exhaled a slow calming breath, before squeezing her eyes tight shut, and pressing the cool telephone to her forehead.
“You don’t need to say it,” Zoe snorted. “Emma Wilson. Am I right?”
“How well do you know Emma?” Erin asked Zoe as soon as she had regained use of her lungs and her brain.
“I don’t know her at all really,” Zoe shrugged. “I only met Emma for the first time when I caught up with Fiona yesterday evening. But she seems very confident and capable. That’s why Fiona asked her to be her maid of honour.”
“Confident and capable I can cope with.” Erin murmured. “What about bossy and unreasonable?”
“Oh no,” Zoe winced. “Has she been difficult?”
“Fiona was great. Once we had the cakes sorted out, she asked for sugar roses on top of her cake, instead of the traditional bride and groom, which was fine. But Emma kept butting in with more and more emails every day about everything from the number of tiers to the type of chocolate I was using. In the end, I wrote the complete design down last week and asked Fiona to approve it. No more changes.”
Erin snorted through her nose, then shook her head. “Guess who emailed me three times yesterday, then called me twice last night? I think she’s panicking, Zoe. Is there any way that you can go and calm Emma down a little? Please? Just for today? And why are you sniggering?”
“I’m sorry, Erin. I’ve worked with so many brides and wedding planners over the years, that I sometimes forget that there are people in the world who aren’t immune to this craziness.”
“Do you mean that all maids of honour and planners are like that?” Erin exclaimed, blinking in disbelief. “How do you stand it?”