On Thin Icing (12 page)

There are many varieties of Spanish coffee, but Carlos’s version is a blend of dark brewed coffee with Kahlúa, Amaretto, and his own homemade coffee liqueur. He serves it flaming. It’s a work of art and so strong that just one sip makes my head spin.

Sterling paid close attention to Carlos as he scooped beans into the coffeepot. I was glad that I wasn’t the only one who got swept up in Carlos’s easy charm.

Clunky footsteps thudded through the dining room. Were the board members already starting to gather? I glanced at the clock. We still had forty minutes before breakfast.

Mercury swung the kitchen door open. Her hair was damp with snow. It looked fake, as if she were wearing a clumpy white wig. She hadn’t changed. She was still in her pajama pants and snow boots. “The power’s on in here?” Her words slurred a bit.

“Yeah.” I motioned toward the overhead lights. “At least for the moment. They’ve flickered a couple times, but knock on wood, we’re good.” I knocked on the countertop.

She glanced at the lights. “We’ll see. The phone lines are down, and I can’t see anything past my arm out there. Gavin hasn’t showed up here yet, has he?”

I shook my head.

“I can’t believe he’s not here. He usually has the fire going and the heat turned on in all the buildings before I’m even up.” She rubbed her temples. Wet snow splatted on the floor. “You don’t think he’s dead, too?”

“Dead?” Carlos looked from me to Sterling.

I held up my index finger, signaling for him to wait.

Mercury tapped her forehead. She didn’t appear to hear Carlos’s question. “I don’t know what to do. Do you think we have some kind of crazed killer here with us?”

“Killer?” Carlos asked again.

I shook my head at him.

Mercury paced in front of the brick oven. “I would send everyone home if I could. That seems like the safest solution, but no one can get out of here.” She stopped and peered into the oven. “That smells amazing. What are you baking?”

“Orange cardamom rolls,” I replied, stepping closer to her and resting my hand on her arm. “I know it’s been an extremely stressful morning. Why don’t you go sit down by the fire—we’ll bring you a roll and coffee. You’re right. No one can leave. Even if the roads were clear we’d still need to keep everyone here.”

“We would?”

“Yes, this is a crime scene. The police are going to need to question everyone when they get here.”

“Crime scene?” Carlos looked incredulous. I shot him a warning look. Mercury had stopped pacing and was staring out the window.

“Let me walk you to the fireplace,” I said, leading her out of the kitchen.

Her erratic behavior wasn’t good for her, and certainly wouldn’t be good for the board members who were due to arrive for breakfast soon. I helped Mercury settle in front of the fire. You were worse than her a little while ago, I told myself.

“I’ll have Sterling bring you a cup of coffee. Just relax for a minute. The police know what happened and they’ll be here as soon as they can. Until then, we’re just going to have to continue as best we can.”

Mercury’s dazed eyes focused on the flames. She nodded as I walked back to the kitchen. She seemed reassured by my words. I just wished that I believed them.

Chapter Thirteen

When I returned to the kitchen, Sterling was explaining what happened to Carlos.

Carlos sprinted toward me and grabbed my shoulders with his hands. “Julieta, why did you not tell me?” He studied my face. “You are okay, yes?”

“I’m fine.” I placed my hands on top of his. A jolt erupted in my body. I’d forgotten how his touch affected me.

He released me. “And how was Tony killed?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know. I didn’t look at him close enough to see.” I rubbed my arms.

Carlos wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head. “Do not think of it,
mi querida
. I’m sorry I asked.”

“It’s okay.” I leaned into him. He smelled like coffee beans and aftershave. “I guess I never even thought about how he might have been murdered. I was so focused on the fact that he was
murdered
.”

“Murdered? Did someone say murdered?” Lance’s voice sang behind me.

I flinched. Carlos strengthened his grasp around me.

Lance stood in the doorway. He tossed the teal scarf that hung around his neck to the side. “Darling, why so jumpy?” He strolled into the kitchen and let his eyes linger on the percolating coffee. “Too much caffeine, perhaps?”

I stepped away from Carlos. “Lance, we need to talk.”

“Ooooh. So dramatic, Juliet. I love it. You’re feeling the tension of this remote space, aren’t you? Work it, darling. Work it.”

“Lance, I’m not kidding. We need to talk.” I bit my bottom lip.

“She’s not kidding, is she?” he asked Carlos and Sterling.

They both looked at the floor.

“Well, now you’re scaring me, darling.” Lance rested his finger on his chin. “Out with it.”

“There’s no easy way to say this,” I said, taking a deep breath. “Tony, the bartender, is dead.”

Lance gasped. “What? You must be kidding. Although…” He paused and stared at the contusion on Carlos’s face. “After damaging that chiseled profile, maybe he got what he deserved.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m serious. I found his body this morning.”

“That sounds ghastly. Surely you’re not hinting at foul play?”

“It looks that way.” I sighed.

Lance placed his hand over his heart. “Oh my goodness. This is too much. A board retreat in the middle of winter in the eerie Oregon forest and someone ends up dead. This has screenplay written all over it.”

“Lance, this is no time to kid. Tony is dead.”

He waved me off. “Death is the
only
time to kid, darling.”

What did that mean?

“Any chance I can get a cup of that delicious-smelling brew?” Lance asked Sterling.

Sterling reached for a ceramic mug and poured Lance a cup.

Lance threw his hand to his forehead after taking a sip of coffee. “As always your coffee is pure perfection. What’s the magic elixir?”

“I didn’t make it. Carlos did.”

Bowing to Carlos, Lance winked at me. “Ah, I see. Talent attracts talent.” He cradled the mug in his hands. “Now on to this nasty murder business. I suppose I’m going to need to let my guests know about this development. Are the police here?”

“No.” I explained the situation to Lance. When I finished, he held his mug out to Sterling. “Be a dear, and refill this, would you? This is playing out like an Agatha Christie production. Snowed in. Cut off from communication. And…” Lance paused and pointed to the overhead lights as they flickered again. “Soon we might be in the dark. This is too much. Absolutely too much. I need to go prepare a little speech. Ta-ta.”

I was used to Lance’s overly dramatic personality. Carlos, on the other hand, stood near the coffeepot, looking incredulous.

“It’s all for show,” I said. “He’s always like that.”

Carlos poured himself a cup of coffee. “I did notice that last night.”

Hearing Carlos say the words “last night” triggered something in my brain. Carlos might have seen something last night. He was awake and here or outside when Tony had been killed. My eyes glanced to the sink where I placed the two wine glasses I found earlier. Had he been alone?

I wanted to ask him what—if anything—he’d seen, but was interrupted by the sound of voices gathering and boots tromping on the hardwood floors. The board members were arriving for breakfast.

Sterling sprang into action, stacking coffee cups, cream, sugar, honey, and our own blend of cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice onto a tray. “I’ll get everyone caffeinated.”

“Great.” I gave him a thumbs-up. The rolls and potatoes were done and warming in the front of the oven. We just needed to scramble the eggs and chop a quick fruit salad. I heated olive oil in a cast-iron skillet for the eggs.

Carlos slid behind me. “Julieta, I will make the eggs. I will give them a Spanish kick,
sí
?”

“Sure. Go for it.” I handed him the skillet and walked to the fridge. I grabbed a cantaloupe and honeydew melon. I’d slice those and add blueberries, strawberries, grapes, and bananas. Then I would dress the fruit salad with yogurt vinaigrette made with Greek honey yogurt and lemon juice.

Sterling returned and began stacking plates and silverware. “Lance is in his element out there.”

“Not a surprise.” I sliced the honeydew. “Has he gotten to the murder yet?”

“Are you kidding?” Sterling balanced the plates on his arms. “He’s going to stretch this story out for as long as possible.”

While I diced the fruit, I watched Carlos work. The muscles in his back tightened as he shook the skillet over the open flame with one arm, and reached for a handful of chopped peppers with the other. He sprinkled the peppers and incorporated them into the eggs with two quick flicks of his wrist. On the ship there were always foodie groupies, as we affectionately called them, five or six young women, mainly waitresses, who would gather to watch Carlos orchestrate dinner service. They would gasp and sigh as he massaged pork loins with sea salt and artfully drizzled a blood orange sauce on the rim of a plate. When Carlos cooked, he cooked with love. It came through in everything he touched, and how he moved his body.

I found myself forgetting to breathe as I watched him fry the eggs. Focus, Juliet.

“Lance wants me to report that the guests are getting restless,” Sterling said, as he swung the kitchen door open. He checked behind him to make sure it shut. “Honestly, I think he wants us to serve breakfast so he can keep them on the edge of their seats with his ‘important and stunning news’ as he put it.”

“We’re ready.” I nodded to the oven. “The rolls can go first. You can just serve them in their baking dishes. Be sure to tell everyone that the pans are hot, though.”

Sterling pulled on oven gloves and removed the first tray of golden brown rolls. The orange rind glaze had oozed and melted between them. I had a feeling they were going to disappear fast.

“After you take those out, come back for the potatoes. They need to go onto a serving platter. I’ll finish up the salad and bring it out.” I poured the lemon dressing over the fruit and tossed it with salad tongs. The confetti-colored creamy salad would be a nice cool pairing with the other hot breakfast items.

I rinsed my hands in the sink. Carlos caught my arm and held out a spoon of eggs for me to taste. “Try these.”

I opened my mouth. A burst of flavor hit my palate. The eggs were soft without being mushy. They were light and rich at same time. The richness came from the spice of the peppers and the blend of garlic and onions that Carlos had added. He topped them with crumbled cotija cheese, giving them a velvety finish. “Yum.” I closed my eyes and savored the taste for a minute.

When I opened my eyes Carlos was waiting expectantly for my response. “You like them,
sí
?”

“I love them.”

Saying those words to him with our bodies only six inches apart might not have been my best idea. I could feel the space between us closing in.

Carlos’s voice was low and husky. “You love them?” It sounded like his words were inside my ear.

My head felt heavy. It was like an imaginary cord was pulling me into him.

His voice was thick with want. “Julieta.”

“Carlos, I…”

He placed his finger on my lips. “Do not speak.”

I resisted the urge to kiss his finger. It burned on my lips.

The room was thick with desire and the scent of eggs starting to burn.

Burn!

“Carlos! The eggs.” I jumped back.

He twisted around, oven mitt in hand, grabbed the skillet and moved the eggs to an unlit burner.

“Are they scorched?” I felt my cheeks. They were on fire.

“No. I can save them,” Carlos said. He reached out and touched my arm. “We continue where we left off later,
sí
?”

“I have to take this out to the table.” I ignored his question and picked up the fruit salad. Adjusting my apron, I hurried out to the dining hall. Hopefully my blazing cheeks wouldn’t give me away. I really needed to pull it together. Carlos had me acting like a schoolgirl. Normally, I’m more composed than this. No one else could rattle me the way Carlos could. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I knew I had to tap into the professional chef inside. I had a full day of meals to cater and a murder to worry about.

Lance stood at the head of the table with a grave look on his face. The board members sat around the long table, clutching their coffee mugs, completely captivated by what Lance was saying.

I murmured an apology and reached over one of the board members to place the fruit salad in the center of the table.

“Ah, Juliet, you’re just in time for the big reveal.” Lance’s eyes twinkled. “And I think our guests will want to hear what you have to say.”

“Hang on.” I held up my finger, trying to buy time. The last thing I wanted was to be part of Lance’s drama. “We’re just putting the finishing touches on breakfast. The rest of the food will be right out.” I scooted away.

Carlos had plated the eggs and garnished them with diced red chili peppers, cheese, and a few sprigs of cilantro. They looked gorgeous. I took them from him and waved Sterling into the dining room with the trays of potatoes.

The guests let out an audible sigh as we delivered the food.

Lance raised one palm in the air and clapped his fingers into it. “Divine. Absolutely divine. Isn’t this the most delectable meal you’ve ever seen?”

Board members clapped in agreement. I could feel my cheeks heating again.

“Dish up while it’s hot.” Lance swept his hands across the table.

I started toward the kitchen. He grabbed my sleeve. “Do wait, darling.” Sterling and I stepped backward and stood against the far wall.

The board members passed around the steaming platters of food. It was fun to watch their faces light up as they bit into the warm sweet rolls and savored Carlos’s spicy eggs. “I think it’s a hit,” Sterling whispered.

Lance cleared his throat, and brought his hands together in a prayer position in front of his chest. “If I could have your attention while you eat, I want to get on with the ghastly news that I need to share.”