Death of a Bacon Heiress (17 page)

Chapter 28
Hayley couldn't recall Bruce Linney ever begging for anything. He prided himself on being a cool, unflappable reporter. Emotional outbursts were not a part of his DNA.
And yet, here he was in the office of the
Island Times
, on his knees, his hands clasped in front of his face, pleading with Hayley.
Hayley couldn't deny she was enjoying being in the power position.
Just a little bit.
And Bruce knew it.
But that didn't stop him from this valiant effort to enlist Hayley's help in following a lead for his story on the murder of Dr. Alvin Foley.
“Hayley, please, I need you. She likes you.”
“I'm sorry, Bruce. I want to go with you, but I'm way behind on my column, and Sal will kill me if I miss my deadline . . . again.”
“It'll just take twenty minutes. I promise. I called Sherman's Bookstore and she's working there right now.”
He wanted to question Carla McFarland.
But Carla despised Bruce.
He'd made the fatal mistake of remarking that Carla's double fudge brownies tasted like they came out of a box instead of made from scratch when he was judging a baking contest at the Blue Hill Fair three years ago.
Bruce had been dead to her ever since.
And there was no way she would actually talk to him if he showed up at the local bookshop where she worked part-time to ask her a few questions.
Which was why he needed Hayley.
He was able to confirm through conversations with a couple of Dr. Foley's colleagues at the Jackson Lab that he had been casually dating a local woman.
And after some more digging, Bruce had finally come up with a name.
Carla McFarland.
His heart sank.
He knew how Carla felt about him.
She'd told him so to his face when they ran into each other at a dinner party shortly after the Blue Hill Fair incident. Carla had let loose with a litany of expletives, causing so much tension Bruce had to excuse himself and leave before dessert was served.
A halfhearted apology e-mail did little to repair the damage. So Bruce just wrote her off. When was he ever going to have use for Carla McFarland anyway?
Famous last words.
But as luck would have it, Carla and Hayley were friends. Their sons, Dustin and Spanky, had been close pals and hung out after school all the time. The two mothers had also cochaired a PTA committee and chaperoned a junior high school dance when their sons were in the eighth grade.
Of course Carla would be open to talking to Hayley.
Just not Bruce.
“I'll buy you lunch afterward. Anywhere you want. You like the mac and cheese at the Side Street Café. We can go there.”
It was tempting. Bruce was pulling out all the stops.
Hayley was obsessed with the mac and cheese at the Side Street Café.
“I'll even order us the spinach artichoke dip!”
It was sad that Hayley could be bribed with food. But she couldn't resist the spinach artichoke dip.
She grabbed her coat and followed him out the door to his car. Her column was just about finished anyway, and Sal was out of the office covering a local court case. There really was no reason why she couldn't slip out of the office for a little while.
She just loved seeing Bruce beg.
When Hayley and Bruce arrived at Sherman's Bookstore on Main Street, they found Carla stocking the mystery section.
“Hi, Hayley!” Carla said in a cheery voice as Hayley rounded the corner.
Her smile quickly faded as Bruce fell in behind her. “Hello, Bruce,” Carla said, her voice suddenly grim.
Carla pulled three copies of the new Joanne Fluke mystery out of a box and added them to the shelf.
“I love that blouse you're wearing,” Hayley said, buttering her up.
“You do? I got it on sale at JC Penny. I thought the colors might be too bold to wear at work, but the girls here love it. I've been getting compliments all morning.”
“It's really nice,” Bruce said, jumping in with a smile that looked more like a dog baring its teeth at an intruder.
“Who asked you?” Carla said coldly.
“Don't mind Bruce. He just gave me a ride here. Carla, I came here because I just found out you had been personally involved with Dr. Foley. . . .”
“Yes. He loved my double fudge brownies,” she said pointedly in Bruce's direction.
“Well, I am so sorry for your loss,” Hayley said.
“I still don't believe it. I mean, I'm used to men leaving me. Spanky's deadbeat dad, that Irish bartender last summer . . . So when Alvin disappeared I just assumed he got a better job somewhere else and didn't have the guts to dump me properly. But then, when his body turned up in the park . . . It's just so awful.”
Carla moved to hug Hayley, and as she did she knocked the box of books she was stacking off the wooden stool it was resting on, and it crashed to the floor.
Bruce knelt down to pick up the books. “Here. Let me help.”
“I don't want your help,” she said, her tongue dripping with venom.
“Let him, Carla. It'll keep him busy while we talk,” Hayley said.
Carla nodded and they stepped over Bruce and walked to the back of the store to the children's books section where they had more privacy.
“Why would anyone want to kill Alvin? He didn't have a mean bone in his body. He was so gentle and sweet, and I thought he might finally be the one. . . .” Carla said, her voice trailing off, her eyes watering.
“Was he stressed out at work? Was he working on some kind of big project that might have put him in danger?”
“Not that I know of. Just the usual research. He didn't talk about his job much. I think he liked to put it out of his mind when he wasn't working at the lab.”
“Did you notice any strange behavior before he disappeared? Or see him with anyone you didn't recognize?”
“No. The week he disappeared everything seemed so normal. We chatted on the phone a couple of times. We talked about driving to Kennebunk and booking a bed and breakfast for a romantic weekend in June. Then a couple of nights before he vanished, we went out to dinner. But it was just all so ordinary. He gave no indication anything was wrong.”
“When was the last time you saw him?”
“The day after we had dinner. I dropped off some of my homemade chicken soup.”
“Is that something you did regularly?”
“No. He wasn't feeling well and my soup is very medicinal. It can cure anything!”
“What was wrong with him?”
“I'm not sure. He was convinced he got food poisoning at the restaurant the night before. Bad oysters, I think. He was so sick he was ready to call the Health Department and have the restaurant shut down, but I talked him out of it because we weren't one hundred percent sure it was the restaurant and the owner is a friend.”
“Where did you dine that night?”
“The Blooming Rose.”
Felicity Flynn-Chan's bistro.
Olivia Redmond had also dined there the night before she was murdered.
And in Hayley's mind, that was too much of a coincidence.
Chapter 29
If your idea of a memorable culinary experience is to find yourself slumped over the toilet all night hurling your guts out and your whole body shaking uncontrollably, then by all means make a reservation at the Blooming Rose in Town Hill. After hearing great things about the menu from some colleagues at the Jackson Lab, I took my girlfriend for dinner there last night. I ordered the oyster appetizer and must have gotten a bad one, because by the time I got home I was already feeling nauseous. I hold owner Felicity Flynn-Chan personally responsible for not properly inspecting the food she serves. Diners beware! I'm giving this place zero out of five stars!—
Dr. Feel Bad
It didn't take a crack detective to deduce the author of the review on TasteTest, a user friendly Web site where consumers could post write-ups about their various dining experiences. Dr. Feel Bad gave the Blooming Rose a zero-star rating, dragging down the bistro's overall average. The date the review was posted was two days after Carla had gone to dinner with Dr. Foley at the restaurant, when he'd been feeling slightly better but was still furious over being served bad oysters. Dr. Foley disappeared just two days after posting the review.
Hayley had rushed home to scroll the Blooming Rose reviews on the site after Carla had casually mentioned that Alvin considered himself a food connoisseur and often wrote reviews whenever they dined out. Most of his other reviews were positive and upbeat. This was the only scathing one.
Hayley scrolled down for more recent reviews. There was a long list of four- or five-star ratings.
If she had thought to write her own review after dining at Felicity's establishment, she certainly would have given the place five stars.
She came across one more bad review.
There is something fishy going on at the Blooming Rose! Owner Felicity Chan-Flynn has skated by for years on her restaurant's sterling reputation, but it's high time someone expose this eatery for what it really is—an overrated tourist trap that serves day-old fish and warmed up slop more in keeping with the menu at the state penitentiary rather than a high quality summer season restaurant frequented by visiting celebrities and dignitaries. I have already contacted writers for the top food magazines in New York to let them know that the Rose isn't blooming at all. It's wilting and past its prime.—
Meat Maven
Ouch.
Even worse than Dr. Foley's review.
And Meat Maven was the obvious user name for Olivia Redmond.
She had posted it the morning after Hayley dined with her and Nacho at Felicity's restaurant.
And she was dead just a few days later.
Hayley didn't know what to think.
Was Felicity unhinged and scarily sensitive?
A crazed killer hell-bent on taking out anyone who spoke ill of her restaurant?
But Felicity could not have been the one to murder Olivia Redmond.
She had an airtight alibi.
She had already left the estate and was working in her vegetable garden back at the restaurant when Olivia was killed at the estate. She even had an eyewitness to corroborate her story who was willing to testify to the fact.
There was a knock at the back door.
Hayley looked up from her laptop, startled. She set the computer down next to Leroy, who was snoozing on the couch next to her, and walked through the kitchen and opened the door to find Bruce standing there.
“Is this a bad time?”
“No, come in,” Hayley said.
Bruce looked around the kitchen as he entered. “You in the middle of making dinner?”
“I haven't really been cooking much since the kids aren't around.”
“Oh, I see.” He looked disappointed.
“Why? Are you hungry?”
“A little. Just thought I'd guilt you into letting me stay for dinner if you had a meat loaf in the oven or something.”
“Sorry. What is it you want, Bruce?”
He glanced at the fridge. “You really don't have something hidden away in there you could whip up for the two of us?”
“Are you serious? There's nothing in the fridge. And even if there was, I don't feel like cooking you dinner!”
“Okay, fine. I get it. I'm not the handsome vet you've got the hots for. I'm just your platonic coworker so I get no special treatment.”
“The point, Bruce. Get to the point. Did you really just stop by to get a free meal?”
“No. I went and found a busboy who works at the Blooming Rose after our conversation with Carla McFarland. Or to be clear,
your
conversation. Kid by the name of Jay Chaplin. Parents are teachers at the school. I know the family. He's a good egg.”
“What did he have to say?”
“Once I got him to open up, he actually had a lot to say. His parents forced him to quit about a month ago. According to him, Felicity Flynn-Chan was a monster to work for.”
“That's no surprise. She's always been a perfectionist. I know that because she calls me when she wants to place an ad for her restaurant in the
Island Times
and she will only deal with me because she wants it done just so.”
And two lousy reviews on a well-trafficked Web site would undoubtedly send her into an emotional tailspin.
“She screamed at the poor kid all the time for the silliest offenses, like forgetting to put the soupspoon in the right space on the table or if on a busy night he didn't clear a table fast enough. The stress was so bad he went to the doctor and was given a prescription for an antidepressant.”
“A lot of restaurant owners are mercurial and demanding, Bruce.”
“Yeah, but this apparently went way beyond that. One night a table complained that the basket of bread they had been served wasn't warm enough and she had such a meltdown she spent the rest of the night curled up in a ball in a corner of the kitchen and wouldn't talk to anyone. Another time she beat one of her waiters with a spatula for dropping a pat of butter into the lap of a state senator who was dining with her husband. He had a zillion stories like this. God forbid you get on her bad side.”
“So she's unstable. That doesn't make her a killer,” Hayley said.
“Man, all this talk about food . . . I'm starving.”
“Off topic, Bruce.”
“Right. Maybe she's not a killer. But I not only talked to Jay, I got in touch with a dishwasher and a hostess and a couple of waiters, and they all said the same thing. Felicity Flynn-Chan is nuts and willing to do just about anything to protect her business. The only thing she loves more than that restaurant is her husband, Alan. She's completely devoted to him.”
Alan Chan.
Felicity's subdued, nondescript husband.
The restaurant's well-trained chef who remained safely tucked away in his wife's shadow.
Felicity was the true face of the operation.
And she may have had an alibi for Olivia's murder.
But did Alan?
“Want to order a pizza with me? We can have it delivered. My treat,” Bruce said, clutching his growling stomach.
It dawned on Hayley that she had no idea what she was going to have for dinner, so resigned, she shrugged. “Fine. Have a seat in the living room. I'll call Little A's and pop open a couple of beers.”
Bruce beamed from ear to ear as he shook off his jacket and hung it on the coatrack, then pulled out his cell phone. “I'll call. Meat lover's okay?”
She nodded as she watched him laconically drift into the living room and turn on a cable news channel. Hayley had to give him credit. His persistence had paid off.
Bruce Linney was staying for dinner.
Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell
The other night I showed up at my brother Randy's, bar with my yummy Skillet Bacon Mac & Cheese because his husband, Sergio, was working late wrapping up a couple of big cases and I didn't want Randy skipping dinner. It was also an excuse to get one of Randy's signature Blackberry Moonshine Cocktails, which I was sure my grateful brother would offer on the house.
As we sat at the bar chowing down on the mac and cheese and sipping our cocktails, a childhood friend of ours, Jeff Pryor, sauntered into the bar to grab a beer, so we waved him over to join us since we hadn't seen him in a while. We all began to catch up on what was going on in each of our lives. Most of you probably know that Jeff owns a sightseeing cruise boat that takes visitors around Mount Desert Island and the outer islands where they can take in the rocky, beautiful coast as well as look at seabirds, seals, and some of the lavish summer homes of the rich and famous.
He also offered a sunset cocktail cruise that is a favorite among many folks, myself included.
I know, I know, you're not surprised.
As we were chatting away, a young off-duty summer park ranger strolled in and took a seat at the bar to enjoy a cold beer before heading home, presumably after a long day at work.
I noticed a young couple sitting next to us at the bar with a stack of brochures from the park headquarters in Hulls Cove. The woman got excited upon seeing the young park ranger and stood up and marched over to him, ignoring her husband's pleas to sit back down. She then tapped the ranger on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, may I ask you a question? My husband has been no help whatsoever,” she said, tossing him a disgusted look over her shoulder.
“Of course,” the ranger said, smiling. “What's your question?”
“At what age does a deer become a moose? We haven't been able to find the answer in any of the brochures.”
Randy spit out his Blackberry Moonshine Cocktail while Jeff and I both fought hard not to erupt in a fit of giggles.
The park ranger patiently explained that deer do not become moose. They stayed deer. The woman began arguing with the poor ranger and declared that he didn't know anything because she had seen a picture of a grown moose next to its baby deer with her own eyes. The ranger stood his ground. Moose are
not
grown-up deer. So with a huff, the woman spun around and grabbed her embarrassed husband and marched right out of the bar.
The second they were gone we all broke out into hysterical laughter.
When we finally calmed down, Jeff began to tell us some of the questions he gets on his various boat cruises.
“What do you do with the islands in the winter?”
We chuckled at this one.
“How many sunset sails do you do in a day?”
Now we were laughing.
“How long is your two-hour tour?”
Randy was practically choking after that one, and I was laughing so hard I could barely breathe.
“Is this island surrounded by water?”
Now we were rolling.
After just leaving the dock on the boat, one tourist actually looked back at where they had launched only moments before and asked,
“What town is that?”
My sides hurt from laughing so hard.
But the one question that really got us going and caused me to fall on the floor laughing in hysterics was one Jeff got last summer. He would always take pictures of each couple or group on the boat, and told them that after the tour they could pick their pictures up in the gift shop at the dock if they would like theirs to keep.
This led one passenger to ask him with a straight face,
“How will we know which one is ours?”
As anyone around here knows, summers can be very long and somewhat trying on the patience at times, especially in a busy tourist town such as ours.
So remember to try to take some time and relax, and just have some fun by getting together with friends for a fun dinner in or out. But certainly don't forget to add a great cocktail or two. You'll end up having a wonderful time and the summer won't be so stressful.
This week I'll get your party started with my Skillet Bacon Mac & Cheese recipe and Randy's Blackberry Moonshine Cocktail.
 
 
Skillet Bacon Mac & Cheese
 
Ingredients
1 pound box shell macaroni (or your favorite)
1 teaspoon dry mustard
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper (or less if you don't like a touch of heat)
2 cups grated sharp cheddar cheese
1 cup grated Gruyère cheese
1 cup, plus ½ cup grated cheddar cheese
1¼ cups milk
1½ cups panko bread crumbs
2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
6 slices cooked crispy bacon; reserve ¼ bacon grease
Salt and pepper to taste
 
Roux Sauce Ingredients
¼ cup butter
¼ cup flour
3 cups milk
First make the Roux Sauce. In a large cast iron skillet over medium-low heat (any large oven-safe skillet), melt the butter, whisk in the flour, stirring constantly until a paste is formed and bubbles a bit, about 2 minutes. Add the milk a little at a time, whisking constantly until the sauce thickens, and remove from heat.
Bring a pot of salted water to a boil and cook the pasta until almost al dente, but do not fully cook; drain and set aside.
Preheat your oven to 400 degrees. Put Roux Sauce back on low heat and stir in mustard and cayenne. Gradually add the cheeses while stirring constantly until all the cheese has melted. Add the additional milk, salt, and pepper to taste.
Add the cooked pasta and cooked crumbled bacon to the Roux Sauce in the large skillet.
In a bowl mix together the panko bread crumbs, chopped parsley, and reserved bacon grease, and top the mac and cheese, sprinkling evenly. If you desire, sprinkle a little more grated cheese on top of bread crumbs.
Bake 25 to 30 minutes or until top is browned and pasta is bubbly.
 
 
Blackberry Moonshine Cocktail
 
Ingredients
2 ounces blackberry-flavored moon-shine
1 ounce fresh lemon juice
Splash of seltzer water
6 blueberries
2 strawberries
2 blackberries
 
In a shaker pour the moonshine, lemon and add half the fruit and muddle together. Strain into an ice-filled cocktail glass and top with a splash of seltzer and garnish with the leftover fruit. This is definitely a great way to start a party!

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