On Thin Icing (15 page)

While I waited for the beef, I stacked bowls for the stew. Even though it would take a little longer, I wanted to serve the stew in individual bowls versus family style. It would ensure that everyone got a hot bowl of stew, and eliminate the risk of Lance’s board members sloshing hot stew on each other.

“Can I help?” Carlos asked.

“You want to ladle the stew? If Sterling and I both serve it will go faster.”

Carlos was already washing his hands. “Julieta, for you I will always ladle the stew.” He blew me a kiss.

I knew that he was joking, but I had a sinking feeling that Carlos and Thomas meeting wasn’t going to be a joking matter. The sooner Thomas and the Professor figured out what happened to Tony and could return to Ashland, the better.

Chapter Sixteen

Lunch was met with rave reviews by the board members. They polished off every last morsel of the toasted sandwiches and I literally had to scrape the bottom of the pot to dish up seconds of the stew. Apparently being snowed in with a dead body made people hungry.

I couldn’t blame anyone. It was impossible to get Tony out of my head. Each time I came from the kitchen to restock the platter of cookies or fill water glasses, I caught sight of the Professor and Thomas interviewing each guest.

They had taken up residence by the fireplace. The Professor sat on a patched leather chair with one leg casually resting on his knee. He wore his signature tweed coat and jeans. With his reading glasses pressed against the bridge of his nose and pencil in his hand, he looked more like he was auditioning cast members versus interviewing potential murder suspects.

Thomas had pulled up a dining chair and took notes on his iPad while the Professor asked the questions. His style was completely different than the way most detectives were portrayed in movies and television. He was quiet, thoughtful, and sincere. He didn’t pound the coffee table or invade anyone’s personal space, but I knew from experience that his method worked. People felt at ease around him, and because of that, he was able to get them to open up.

When they finished with one of Lance’s board members, I took the opportunity to bring them a plate of cookies and fresh mugs of coffee.

“Thank you, Juliet. This is exactly what we needed. A bit of sustenance.” The Professor held up a cookie and gave me a nod of thanks. “Might we bother you for a moment of your time?”

“Sure.” I sat on the couch. “How’s it going?”

The Professor rubbed his beard. “Murder. It’s a messy business. There’s no way around it. Do you know what the Bard said about death?”

I shook my head. The Professor was notorious for his ability to quote Shakespeare.

“‘He that dies pays all debts.’”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning our job—” he nodded at Thomas—“is to figure out what debts Tony had to pay.” He took a bite of the cookie. “Of course, unfortunately he paid the highest debt of them all—murder.”

“Right.” I grabbed a cookie, too. I’d been so busy cooking and baking that I hadn’t taken time to eat myself. It’s a bad habit, and one that Mom had been hounding me on. I’d dropped a few pounds since returning to Ashland. A few pounds that I didn’t need to lose. Mom was worried that I was too thin. She’d been shoving extra pastries and cakes in front of me at every opportunity. Remember to eat lunch, I told myself as I bit into the double-chocolate cookie with cream cheese frosting. The rich chocolate dough had a tang from the sour cream and the cream cheese frosting gave the cookies a hint of sweetness.

“I know that Thomas has already spoken with you, but alas, we’re going to need you to go over every detail again. As you know when it comes to murder no stone can be left unturned.”

I wiped cream cheese from my lip. “No problem.”

“Let’s start from the beginning then, shall we?” The Professor leaned back toward the fire. I replayed last night’s events, and then explained how I discovered Tony’s body this morning. Had it really just been this morning? This day felt endless and it wasn’t anywhere near over.

When I finished the Professor rested his notebook on the coffee table. “I see.”

What did he see? Nothing made sense to me.

Thomas cleared his throat. “I have a few things I need to follow up on, is this a good time?”

The Professor nodded.

Scrolling through his iPad, Thomas found the page he was looking for. “We interviewed Carlos.” His voice sounded forced when he said “Carlos.” “He said that he was with you in your cabin all night, is that correct?” Thomas stared at the iPad.

All night? Had Carlos lied to Thomas and the Professor? Why?

“Uh, he was with me most of the night,” I replied.

Thomas perked up and gave the Professor a look I couldn’t decipher. “I’m going to need you to elaborate. When exactly was Carlos with you last night?”

“Basically the whole night. He left to come grab a bottle of wine.” I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. Why was I embarrassed to tell Thomas that my husband came down to get us a bottle of wine?

“And when was that?”

“I’m not sure. Sometime after midnight probably.”

Thomas typed rapidly. “And when did he return to the cabin?”

“Well, I’m not exactly sure on that, either. I fell asleep.”

“So for all you know, Carlos never returned to your cabin last night?” Thomas looked triumphant.

“No.” I sat up on the couch. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just don’t know the exact time he came home because I fell asleep. He was there this morning.”

“Hmm.” Thomas tapped the screen. “So you’re telling us that there are four or five hours where your husband’s whereabouts are unknown?”

I wanted to punch him in the arm, and not for fun this time. “Thomas, what are you trying to say? Are you trying to imply that you think Carlos, my husband, who met Tony for the first time last night, killed him? Seriously?”

“Jules, this is a murder investigation. We have to follow through with every lead and establish alibis for everyone who was here when Tony was killed. That includes your ex-husband and you.”

The fact that Thomas referred to Carlos as my “ex” wasn’t lost on me. I thought about correcting him, but I had a feeling that would make things worse.

“You have to admit it is a little strange that your ex-husband showed up here and someone gets murdered a few hours later. He claims to have been with you, yet you’ve just informed us that he had plenty of time to kill Tony, and we have a witness who placed him here at the lodge last night.”

“You have to be joking.” My knee bounced on the floor. “What possible motive would Carlos have for killing Tony? He didn’t even know him.”

Thomas gave me a challenging look. “We have a number of witnesses who reported that the two of them had an altercation last night.”

“It wasn’t an altercation. Carlos stepped in and helped Lance. Tony was belligerent with everyone. Ask Lance or Mercury.”

“We will.” Thomas nodded. “However, we also heard that Tony was hitting on you and that Carlos threatened him if he continued.”

I rolled my eyes. “Hardly. He told Tony to knock it off. That was it.”

Thomas didn’t look convinced. He typed something on his iPad.

I turned to the Professor. “This is crazy. There’s no way Carlos had anything to do with Tony’s death. No way.”

The Professor gave me an apologetic stare. “I’m sure you’re right, Juliet. I found Carlos to be…” He paused and searched for the right words. “Absolutely charming, but Thomas is right, we have to follow every lead at this early stage.”

“Understood, but you’re not going to find much by focusing on Carlos.” I glanced behind me. Sterling had finished clearing the lunch dishes. The board members were regrouping for their afternoon session. “Did you need anything else from me? I should probably get back to work.”

The Professor waited for Thomas. Thomas scrolled through his notes. “No. I think that’s it for now, but Jules, be careful.”

“Thanks.” I couldn’t keep the sarcasm from my voice. I stood and walked back to the kitchen without another word. How could Thomas think that Carlos had anything to do with this? I was fuming.

If I was being honest with myself one of the reasons I was so angry with Thomas was because he had rattled me. Where
was
Carlos last night? What did the two wine glasses I found on the island have to do with him? I wasn’t lying to myself. Carlos was no killer. But he and I were working on rebuilding trust, and I didn’t trust that he had told me the whole truth. He was lying to me about something. The question was what?

Chapter Seventeen

“How did it go out there?” Sterling asked. In the short time that I’d been gone he had managed to rinse and load the dishes, scrub the stockpot, and wipe down the counters.

“Don’t ask.”

“That bad?”

“Worse,” I sighed.

Sterling walked to the oven and opened it. He removed two ceramic bowls with oven mitts and slid one in front of me.

“What’s this?”

“Stew. I saved a bowl for each of us. You should eat something.”

“You’re worse than Mom, but thanks! Smart move. They were like vultures. We’re going to have to make some extra snacks this afternoon.”

“Your mom made me promise that I’d remind you to eat. Just doing my job.” Sterling handed me a spoon.

The stew was rich in flavor, but I would have liked it to be a bit thicker. “It’s kind of thin, isn’t it?”

Sterling shrugged. “Tastes great to me.”

“I guess I’m just a perfectionist when it comes to food, but the altitude is throwing everything off.”

“What happened out there?” Sterling stirred his stew.

“Thomas grilled me about Carlos. He thinks
Carlos
is a suspect.”

“What?”

“I’m serious. That was at least half of our conversation.”

“No way.”

“That’s what I said.” I wondered if I should tell Sterling about the fact that Carlos had left the cabin last night. As irritated as I was with Thomas he did have a reason to be suspicious. I decided against saying anything. We had enough to do, and I wanted to talk to Carlos on my own.

“They’ll figure it out, Jules.” Sterling sprinkled a pinch of salt on his stew. “Thomas is probably kind of freaked out that Carlos is here.”

“Yep. You nailed it.” I grinned. “On to other topics. Let’s think about some hearty afternoon snacks. I was thinking of making an almond pastry. Do you want to make an antipasto tray? We can marinate veggies and then put out salami and cheeses.”

“Sure. Just tell me what to do.”

I emptied my bowl. Having food in my stomach helped me feel more settled. “Then we need to start on dinner prep. Everything is taking longer at high altitude so I want to make sure we have plenty of time.”

Sterling added our bowls to the dishwasher and clicked it on. I walked him through the marinade recipe. With that under control, I creamed butter and sugar in the mixer for my almond bars. The bars bake in sheet pans and rise about an inch. Once they had cooled I would top them with a layer of almond frosting and chocolate glaze.

The scent of almond extract lifted my spirits as I whipped it and eggs into the batter. This weekend was turning into a disaster. Thomas might be jealous of Carlos, but I had to figure out what Carlos had been doing last night. I was worried that I wasn’t going to like whatever I found out. He must have been sharing a late-night glass of wine with someone. But who? Why would he come all this way just to sneak around with someone else?

I sifted flour, baking soda, and a pinch of salt into the mixture and blended it together. Then I greased two large sheet pans and pressed the dough into them. The almond crust should only take about thirty minutes to bake. That would give me plenty of time to let it cool while I worked on the frosting. I wanted to serve snacks around three o’clock to give everyone time to get hungry for dinner again. Lance’s entire agenda revolved around food.

The guests were probably going to be sick of seeing us by the time the weekend was over.

“Hey, can you taste this?” Sterling asked after I placed the sheet pans into the convection oven.

“It’s what I do,” I teased. The marinade he had whisked together consisted of white wine vinegar, olive oil, and a blend of spices. I dipped my pinky in. “It’s good,” I said, letting the taste circulate in my mouth. “Maybe just a touch more vinegar. I want the veggies to have a bite.”

Sterling shook in two glugs. “Like that?”

I tasted it again, and handed him the bowl. “You try it. What do you think?”

One of the things I wanted to help Sterling with was developing his palate. He had a natural ability, but I knew that he didn’t trust it yet.

He followed my example and stuck his pinky into the marinade. I waited while he closed his eyes and savored the taste. “Yeah, that’s much better. It’s zesty.”

“Exactly!” I tasted it again. “Good job. Now you can add carrot sticks, celery, peppers—toss them completely and then stick them in the fridge. They can marinate for a couple hours.”

“I’m on it.”

With the almond bars baking and marinade finished, I turned my focus to dinner. Tonight I planned to go with a rustic Italian theme. For a starter, we would serve wood-fired garlic-butter breadsticks. Guests would have two options for their main course, a traditional lasagna with a red meat sauce and a vegetarian lasagna with a cream sauce. Dessert would be individual dark chocolate tarts garnished with fresh berries, and cream.

For a unique side dish, I wanted to teach Sterling how to braise green beans. Usually braising is reserved for rough cuts of meat, but I love using the slow-cooking method with vegetables.

I would make the pasta by hand. It’s more time-consuming, but there’s no comparison in terms of taste. Fresh pasta elevates a basic dish. It would give me a chance to use my pasta roller, and hopefully give my head a break from thinking about Tony’s murder.

Pasta can be intimidating, but it shouldn’t be. There’s nothing simpler when it comes to the ingredients required—flour and water. Maybe a pinch of salt and a few eggs for Italian-style noodles, but otherwise it’s as easy as combining flour and water. The difficulty comes in creating the right density for the dough. I call it finding the perfect hydration level. If a dough is too wet or dry, it’s impossible to work with. I’ve spent years experimenting with different ratios of water to flour.