A Roux of Revenge Read online

  Bradley wasn’t happy to be stuck on the road for what would be several hours of a mop-up operation, but there wasn’t much he could say about it.

  “I’ll hitch a ride back to town with you, Elias. Bradley can handle the rest.” Nate stood for a moment, silently surveying the scene. “Yup. I’d bet my last dollar. Somebody was after this guy. We’ve got a murder on our hands.”

  Chapter 2

  JANIE SHIFTED THE branches of brightly colored autumn leaves, rearranging them in a wooden cask, one of several placed around the restaurant. “What do you think, Lucky?”

  “I think it’s fabulous. Maybe you should consider a career in interior decoration, even though I’d hate to lose you.” Lucky’s compliments were sincere. The restaurant was filled with morning light, filtering through the yellow gingham curtains and reflecting off the wide pine floors of the By the Spoonful Soup Shop.

  Janie laughed. “Don’t think that’ll be happening anytime soon. I’ll be stuck in Snowflake for the rest of my life, more likely.” She pushed an unruly branch back into place. “But at least we’re all dressed up for Halloween.”

  “I mean it, Janie. Look at this.” Lucky waved her arm to indicate the work that Janie had accomplished—bouquets of leaves in brilliant reds and oranges from the autumn chill, cornstalks and baskets of multicolored gourds in the front window. “It really looks terrific.”

  Lucky’s grandfather, Jack Jamieson, had decided to hold a promotion for the Spoonful—free soup from three o’clock to five o’clock on the afternoon of Halloween. Lucky agreed that would be a great idea. It would cover the time period from when the children were released from school until the sun went down for the children’s witching hour. Jack had also decided to sponsor a pumpkin-carving contest. Anyone could enter, each entry was anonymous, and every customer would have one vote for their favorite by secret ballot. The prize would be three all-you-can-eat meals for two at the Spoonful any day of the week.

  Janie and Meg, the Spoonful’s other waitress, and Sage DuBois, their chef, had each contributed carved pumpkins to get the contest rolling. Janie’s jack-o’-lantern sported a smile, with red pepper lips, teeth of seeds and twig eyelashes. Meg had carved one that looked like a tiny demon. Sage’s was a leering witch with a parsnip nose. The jack-o’-lanterns were lined up on a long table against the wall. Tiny battery lights twinkled inside each of them.

  The holidays were here again, Lucky thought. The first without her parents. Ten months had elapsed since she had returned home to Snowflake to take over her parents’ business. Martha and Louis Jamieson had died in a car crash on an icy road, and their death had changed her life forever. Two more months would mark a full year. Somehow she had managed to keep the restaurant afloat. She had been terrified at first of taking over the Spoonful and doubtful about her decision to stay. But now, this path felt the most natural one in the world.

  “You can’t really see the lights inside the pumpkins during the day,” Janie said. Maybe we should turn them off for now and save the batteries ’til it’s dark.”

  “Good idea.” Lucky looked up from laying out placemats on the tables.

  Janie, a wooden bowl full of gourds in her arms, was staring intently out the front window. Something in her expression caught Lucky’s attention.

  “Janie? What is it?”

  “Nothing.” Janie continued to stare across Broadway to the opposite sidewalk. “It’s just . . .”

  Lucky moved closer to Janie and followed her gaze. “What do you see?”

  “That man. I’ve seen him before.” Janie nodded her head, indicating a tall, muscular man with a full head of thick auburn hair streaked with gray. He stood on the other side of the street, in the shade of an awning, as though waiting for someone.

  “Maybe he’s someone in town working for the Harvest Festival,” Lucky said.

  Snowflake, Vermont, had been chosen as this year’s location for the fall event, hosting a local farmers’ market, pony rides and a corn maze for children. Ernie White, a successful businessman from Lincoln Falls, a much larger town, was the moving force behind the festival.

  “You’re probably right.” Janie shrugged and flipped over the sign on the front door to read OPEN. “I just feel like I’ve seen him around a lot.” She turned away, heading for the kitchen to help Sage prepare for the morning rush.

  The bell over the door jingled just as Lucky finished laying out the last of the napkins and silverware. Hank Northcross and Barry Sanders, two of the Spoonful’s most loyal regulars, came in every morning. Retired gentlemen, they were often together and were usually the first customers of the day.

  Hank was tall and thin. His sparse hair, completely gray, was cropped close to his head, and he wore pince-nez glasses that constantly slid down his long nose. Barry, much shorter and very plump, was fond of brightly colored shirts that barely buttoned over his midsection. Today he was dressed in orange and black plaid in deference to the season.

  “Morning, Lucky . . . you too Meg,” Barry called out. “Jack around?”

  “He’ll be here shortly. He’s picking up some supplies in Lincoln Falls.”

  “You still let the old man drive?” Hank asked in jest, but there was an undercurrent of worry to his question.

  Lucky’s grandfather had suffered from wartime flashbacks most of his life. When she had returned home months before, she had realized that Jack had other, more serious health problems. Fortunately these had since been alleviated by medical treatment, but Lucky still worried about him.

  “Couldn’t stop him if I tried,” she answered. Jack was the only family she had now. He needed to feel useful, and she needed his support. There was no doubt in her mind he was essential to the smooth running of the Spoonful.

  Lucky approached the corner table where Hank and Barry held court. “Coffee?”

  “Yes. Perfect,” Barry answered.

  She retrieved cups and saucers from behind the counter and poured two cups for the men. She placed them on a tray with a pitcher of cream and a sugar bowl and carried them to the corner table where Hank and Barry were already setting up a game of chess. “Don’t forget Jack’s pumpkin-carving contest. He’ll be disappointed if you don’t both contribute.”

  “We haven’t forgotten,” Hank spoke. “Wait’ll you see mine. I’m quite sure I’ll win.”

  “Not so fast, you old coot. I’m gonna beat the pants off you.” Barry looked up. “What do you have for specials today, Lucky?”

  “We have three new soups. Sage has a pumpkin rice with Persian spices, he tells me. I haven’t tried it yet myself, but it smells delicious. And a zucchini leek with potatoes, and a beet, mushroom and barley soup. I’ve tried that one, and I really love it.”

  “Hmm. I’ll have to sample every one of those this week,” Barry said. “We’re going over to the Harvest Festival later. I want to pick up some vegetables from the farmers’ market, but I’ll be sure to come back for lunch. Make sure you save me a bowl of that pumpkin soup today.”

  “I will, and Jack should be back by then.” Lucky turned back to the counter. Janie was staring out the window again. Lucky walked closer and stood behind her. The same man stood under the awning across the street. He had disappeared for a short while and now was back.

  “You’re right. He does seem to be around a lot,” Lucky whispered.

  Janie had lost her father quite suddenly only four months earlier, just as she was about to graduate from high school. Doug Leonard had been a kindly man who adored his only child. When he died of a massive coronary, Janie was at first inconsolable. Lucky felt a deep empathy for the girl, especially since her own parents had also been taken in an equally sudden fashion. Given Janie’s youth, Lucky knew how much more difficult the loss must have been. Lucky tried to always do her best to look out for Janie and make sure she was on an even keel.

  “I wonder who he is,” Lucky said.

  Janie, a troubled look on her face, didn’t answer. She turned away from the window and hurried
into the kitchen.

  Chapter 3

  A MOVEMENT AT the front door caught Lucky’s eye and the bell jingled as Elias entered. She smiled widely, her heart lifting. She was thankful she no longer blushed furiously when he walked into a room. He had been her mad crush when she was younger and he, older and unattainable. They had reconnected when she had returned to Snowflake and had been seeing each other for the past several months. Elias stopped in for lunch as often as he could. Lucky was surprised to see him at the restaurant this early.

  “Elias! You’re early for lunch.”

  He smiled quickly and grasped her hand, then followed her back to the counter. “I just wanted to catch you before it got too busy here.” He sat heavily on a stool. He seemed distracted.

  “Everything all right?”

  “Oh. Sure. I just thought I should tell you first. I’ve hired a new doctor. Well, it’s a trial period to see how it works out. But I thought you should know.”

  Lucky was thrilled. “That’s wonderful!” She knew Elias had been working far too many hours, seeing patients in town, and traveling to Lincoln Falls for his charges who were hospitalized. This would mean they’d have more time together, something they had been missing since Elias’s partner at the Clinic had left town.

  Elias smiled but made no comment.

  Lucky poured a cup of coffee for him. “Some breakfast?”

  “No. No. I’m fine. I just wanted to . . . uh . . .” He hesitated.

  Lucky waited, but Elias seemed to be searching for words.

  The bell over the door rang again. Marjorie and Cecily, two sisters who ran the Off Broadway ladies’ clothing store, bustled in.

  “Yoo-hoo!” Cecily called out to everyone.

  “Hey, Cecily . . . Marjorie . . .” Barry responded from the corner, his hand raised.

  Lucky turned back to Elias. He was standing. “Leaving so soon?” she asked.

  “Uh, yes. I just wanted to stop in and tell you the news.”

  Lucky looked at him carefully. He seemed uncomfortable. “Elias, is anything wrong?”

  “Wrong? No, certainly not.” He smiled in the sisters’ direction as they took stools at the counter. “I just need to get back to the Clinic.”

  “Okay. See you later,” Lucky replied uncertainly as Elias waved and hurried through the front door.

  “Hope we didn’t interrupt anything?” Marjorie raised her eyebrows.

  Lucky shook her head. “No. Not at all. Elias just stopped by to let me know he’s hired a new doctor at the Clinic.”

  “Well, that’s a good thing. That man has been working way too many hours since . . .” Marjorie trailed off. She didn’t need to explain what she meant. Everyone in town knew Elias had lost his partner at the Clinic after the murder of a winter tourist—a woman who had been the doctor’s lover.

  Lucky poured two cups of tea and carried them to the counter. The sisters’ croissants with butter and jam were ready and waiting on the hatch. Sage, working in the kitchen, had no need to ask their order. Lucky delivered the food to the counter. Everyone knew that Elias was stretched thin. But that wasn’t why he seemed distracted this morning. Something else was on his mind. What was he about to tell her before the sisters’ arrival interrupted him?

  Chapter 4

  MIRIAM LEONARD RINSED her hands at the kitchen sink, washing off a sticky residue of flour. She dampened a sponge and carefully wiped down her workspace and countertop. All of the pies were set out, ready to be baked. The oven was still warming. She had prepared an apple, a peach and a razzleberry pie—blueberries, raspberries and blackberries—Janie’s favorite. Miriam dried her hands on a dish towel as she headed to the front door. She had heard the clunk of the mailbox earlier when the post had been delivered, but she had been in the middle of rolling dough and didn’t want to stop. Flipping the towel over her shoulder, she opened her front door. A willow wreath decorated with mini pumpkins rattled against the glass window.

  She flipped open the lid of the metal mailbox and, reaching in, retrieved a few envelopes. She stepped back inside and pushed the front door shut with her shoulder and dropped the mail on the hallway table—more bills, she was certain. She turned away to head back to the kitchen but hesitated. Something was different. She picked up the three envelopes—an electric bill, a statement from the dentist and a small blank parchment-like envelope. She turned it over. How did this arrive in her mailbox? It was completely blank. No address and no return address. She ran her fingers over the textured exterior and turned it over. Sealed. She pressed the envelope lightly. Something was inside. She sliced through the top with a letter opener and shook the contents out on the tabletop. One small, delicate flower with petals of tender blue and a bright yellow center lay on the polished wood.

  Miriam’s heart thumped a heavy beat. The blood drained from her face. The room spun around her. For a moment she thought she would faint. She pressed her hand against the wall to maintain her equilibrium. The blossom was a true forget-me-not. It was him. It had to be. He was the only one who would know what this wildflower would mean to her. She shivered in spite of the warmth of the house. How had he found her? And why after all these years? It must be him. No one else could know that this was theirs—a flower that had once held such meaning for them both.

  Miriam dropped the dish towel on the table and, clinging to the banister, slowly climbed the stairs to her bedroom. With wooden steps she approached the bureau and opened a tapestry-covered jewelry box. Pushing a small button inside, she released a narrow compartment at its base and retrieved a yellowing photograph.

  He sat in a meadow, sunlight brushing his hair, a half smile on his face that she remembered still. The photo still evoked the same vivid memories. It was late summer. A warm and golden day. They had each slipped away from the campsite and met in the meadow. She had managed to put a picnic basket together, with bread, cheese and meat. Once they were sure they were safe from prying eyes, they made love in the tall grass and fell asleep in the sunlight. She knew, even then, with a knowledge only the young sometimes have, this would be the happiest day of her life. She had loved him in a way she had never loved since. She had been so full of hope for all that life promised, never imagining her dreams would be torn from her.

  She had secretly gazed at this photograph countless times. Now, with the distance of years, she recognized something poignant and knowing in his face, as if he could foretell what was to come for both of them. The real future that would be—not the one they had planned. Her hands were shaking as she slipped the photo back into its secret compartment.

  She feared what this message might mean. Why now? What did he want from her?

  Chapter 5

  LUCKY FLIPPED OVER the sign at the front door. The restaurant was closed. Janie had left for home, giving Meg a ride. Sage was still in the kitchen, organizing pots and pans for the next day. Nate Edgerton sat at a table near the window with Jack. Lucky moved around the room, turning off all but one of the lamps, and then poured herself a cup of herbal tea. She joined the men at the table.

  “No idea who he is?” Jack asked. He had grabbed two beers from the refrigerator and poured them into chilled glasses for Nate and himself. The Spoonful never served alcohol, but Jack enjoyed the occasional beer and kept a few at the restaurant.

  “There’s a name and address on a Maine driver’s license. I have a call in to the local PD there to go out to talk to someone—try to find a next of kin. I’m a little suspicious about the license though. The van is registered in Quebec to somebody else. I should be getting something from the authorities there too.”

  “What’s suspicious about the license?” Jack asked.

  “Well, I could be wrong, but it just seems a little off.” Nate continued, “He looks too young for his age, at least the age on the license.”

  “Usually it’s the other way around,” Lucky said. “People hang on to old licenses until they have to show up to have another picture taken. You’d think he’d look older t
han his photo.”

  “You would, wouldn’t you?” Nate replied.

  “Did you call Elias out to the scene?” she asked.

  “Oh sure. Too bad he had to start his day that way, but I was glad of the company. And glad to get a ride back to town.”

  Lucky thought perhaps that’s what had been troubling Elias earlier. He may not have wanted to mention the dead man in front of the sisters.

  “They’ll take his prints over at Lincoln Falls just to be doubly sure.” Nate wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I’ll check again in the morning to see if anyone’s been reported as missing, but it might be too soon for that. There are a lot of strangers in town right now with the Harvest Festival . . . and my guy could be one of them.”

  Jack snorted. “Don’t even mention that thing. We’ve had Ernie White driving us nuts about setting up a food booth over there. I told him he could take a hike. If anybody wants our food, nothing’s stopping them from coming into town and ordering it right here.”

  “Ernie always gets Jack’s back up,” Lucky volunteered. “Jack’s right, though. He’s definitely been putting pressure on us to set something up at the festival, but we don’t have that kind of staff. We’ve done things in the past to help the town out, but this is different. Besides, most of the festival folks are coming here anyway. So I’m certainly not going to close the restaurant just to sell a few sandwiches.” Lucky took a sip of her tea. “Don’t get me wrong. I think it’s a great thing he’s doing. Some small local farmers get to sell their harvest. The kids have rides and a corn maze with scarecrows. I heard they’ve even booked a Gaelic band from Nova Scotia. It sounds like fun for everyone.”

  “Speaking of which, that’s where I’ll be next, asking questions out there. There are a few strangers working those pony rides and stuff. I just hope somebody can identify this guy.”