As Gouda as Dead (27 page)

For the remainder of Saturday, chatter in The Cheese Shop was loud. People stopped in to see how I was doing. Rebecca, Meredith, and Tyanne couldn't stop hovering over me. Every so often, Matthew threw me a look of compassion. His ex-wife Sylvie stopped in, claiming that she wanted to know if she'd won yesterday's cheese basket giveaway. Delilah brought me not one but two ham and pear grilled cheese sandwiches. Quigley, a local reporter, asked me for an exclusive. He was hoping the story would go viral on the Internet.

On Sunday—a week after Dottie was murdered; a week after Jordan and I were to be married—Jordan, who hadn't left my side until the police were finished questioning me, entered the shop carrying a huge bouquet of daisies. He looked incredibly handsome in a brown suit and cream-colored collared shirt. “For the hero,” he said.

“I'm not a hero.”

“Dottie and Tim have been avenged. Violet and Ray are facing charges. Dottie's sisters now have the heirloom brooch; they're selling the pastry shop, by the way. Zach Mueller was cleared. So was Jawbone Jones. And, this just in, Councilwoman Bell has given up trying to oust your grandmother from office.”

“Why?”

“Because she's moving to Los Angeles to help her daughter through her rehabilitation. Hero.”

“Heroine,” I revised.

“What are you, a literary major now?” He kissed me on the cheek. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“I don't. I need a week of sleep, a facial, and a massage, not necessarily in that order.”

“Beautiful. Glowing.”

“Get out of here.”

“I never lie.”

I raised an eyebrow.

He grinned. “Occasionally, I obfuscate the truth.”

I laughed, then took the daisies, placed them into a crystal vase filled with water, and set the vase by the register. “Now, my sweet man”—I leveled him with a gaze—“what's this I hear about you buying the pub?”

“Who told you?”

“Quigley.”

“O'Shea and the other nephews don't want it. I don't think Jawbone has a clue how to run a place like that. I've been thinking about making a switch. And Luigi has decided not to sell La Bella Ristorante.” He slipped an arm around my waist. “Actually, I came here to talk to you about the prospect.”

“What about your farm?”

“My sister wants to take it on.” A year or so after Jordan moved to town, he covertly relocated his sister to Providence to protect her from an abusive husband. The man was now dead. End of story. “Jacky loved working it while I was away in November.” When Jordan left town for the WITSEC trial, he had put his sister in charge of the farm. “She said tilling the soil suits her.”

“I thought she was going to give up her pottery store and move to Los Angeles to become an actress.” Back in October, she'd had a fling with a famous independent movie director.

“That relationship has ended.”

“What about the negative publicity the farm will receive? A murder occurred on the property.”

“She looks forward to the challenge.” He took me by the elbow. “Would you mind walking around the pub with me and checking it out? You've got a better eye for space and décor.”

“Ha! You're the one that used to own a restaurant.”

“Years ago. I'm rusty.”

“I'll meet you there after work.”

“How about now?” He gestured to Rebecca. “Do you mind watching the shop while Charlotte and I go on an errand?”

“Sure,” she said. “It's slow this morning with everyone in church.”

My insides snagged. Weddings and funerals. Beginnings and endings. Life and death. I pushed the thoughts from my mind.

Jordan said, “We'll be back in less than an hour.”

“Whatever.” She shooed us away. “Go!”

Jordan guided me across the street and onto the path through the Village Green.

“What's with the indirect route?” I asked. I didn't mind. I was dressed for the cool weather.

“I thought we could use a dose of sunshine.” He drew me close. We ambled through the park, pointing out other couples that looked as happy as we were.

Minutes later, Jordan opened the door to the pub and allowed me to enter first.

“Surprise!” more than thirty people yelled. Friends and family, all dressed for a party. Some were blowing party horns. Rice flew into the air and splattered my face and shoulders.

Front and center stood Tyanne with a Cheshire cat grin on her face. She rushed to me carrying what looked like my ecru wedding dress. “Hurry, sugar. We don't want to keep the minister waiting.” She started to lead me toward the kitchen.

I gaped. “Minister?”

“I've set up the bathroom in the back to be our staging area.”

“Our what?” I turned to Jordan, who had trailed us to the back of the pub.

He dropped to one knee and took my hand in his. “Charlotte Erin Bessette, will you marry me . . . today? Here, right now. In my new pub.”

“Your . . .” I glanced over his shoulder and realized, for the first time, that the pub was decorated with white streamers, balloons, and daisies.

“I . . .” He paused. “All of us want to make good memories at the pub again.”

Rebecca emerged from the pack carrying a bouquet of daisies and baby's breath. She thrust it at me. “Here you go.”

“The shop.”

“Closed for a celebration.”

“You knew?”

“We're all in on it.” She swirled a hand to indicate the rest of the party.

Grandmère and Pépère stood off to the side with Meredith, Matthew, and the twins. Delilah and Urso stood beyond them, as did Jacky and so many more friends. All were beaming.

Meredith broke from the group and ran to me. “I stole into your house and filched your mother's pearl earrings.” She held out her hand. The baubles gleamed in the soft light.

Tyanne said, “I've hired the French horn player. He's standing by. Delilah's worked with the pub's chef to put your menu together. The winter salad with chocolate-dipped strawberries, the chocolate cheesecake, and, well, everything. And, sugar, we have butterflies waiting to be released.”

Tears sprang into my eyes. I turned to Jordan. “Are you sure?”

“I've never been more sure of anything.”

“I'm impulsive and curious,” I admitted.

“And loyal and true.” He tipped my chin up with a crooked finger. “Don't forget, I have a few faults.”

“Not many.”

“By the way, I brought you something blue.” He withdrew a note from his pocket and handed it to me. “Open it.”

It was a note in my handwriting—a note that I'd written a couple of years ago, thanking him for the first bouquet of flowers he'd ever brought me. It was our first love letter. I pressed it to my chest as a wealth of emotions caught in my throat. If only my mother and father were here to witness the occasion.

“Yes, Jordan Pace, I will marry you. Right here. Right now.”

Everyone cheered. The band lit into my mother's favorite song. I swung around to signal my thanks and stopped, my mouth falling open. Jawbone Jones and Ilona Mueller headed up the band.

“I thought they played blues,” I whispered to Jordan.

“Not today. They're good, aren't they?”

“Yes.”

“Glad you approve. Now, get a move on, woman. Don't keep me waiting any longer.”

We married.

The next day, after the coroner made official determinations as to the causes of death in both cases, which matched Ray's account—death by drowning and death by suffocation—Urso released Tim's and Dottie's bodies, and the families held funeral services, not just memorials.

At Tim's service, Tyanne's eyes brimmed with tears as she gave the eulogy. Deputy O'Shea followed her with an earnest speech. After Tim's body was laid to rest in the cemetery, Jordan closed the event saying how much Tim, a friend to all, would be missed. His voice caught three times during the talk.

Following the ceremony, Jordan and I took a contemplative walk.

The next day, we moved ahead with our lives and went on our long-anticipated honeymoon. Bliss.

Cheese Pops

À la Tyanne

(MAKES 12)

1 8-ounce container mascarpone cheese

2 tablespoons honey

¹
⁄
₂
cup craisins

¹
⁄
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cup sunflower seeds

8 ounces Gouda, shredded, room temperature

Put all the ingredients into a large bowl and mix well. Using your hands, form the mixture into balls. Insert a white lollipop-style stick. Set the pops, cheese-side down and sticks in the air, on parchment paper and place in the refrigerator to harden.

When ready to serve, cut a piece of Styrofoam to fit into a serving bowl or basket. Cover the Styrofoam with a piece of parchment. Make 12 slits in the parchment. Shove the cheese pops, stick-side down, through the slits into the Styrofoam. Bring to room temperature and serve.

[
Note from Tyanne:
These are so easy to make, even my children could do it. In fact, it's a fun activity for families. If you prefer, you can always substitute the craisins with raisins and the sunflower seeds with a nut of your choice. Pecans are my favorite. If you're not a Gouda fan, try another cheese that you like, for example, Monterey Jack, Cheddar, or Havarti. Savor the flavors!]

Macaroni and Cheese Appetizer

À la Timothy O'Shea's Irish Pub

(SERVES 4)

2 cups dried macaroni, cooked to tender (about 4–5 cups cooked)

4 tablespoons butter

1 clove garlic, chopped

¹
⁄
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teaspoon salt

¹
⁄
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teaspoon white pepper

¹
⁄
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teaspoon paprika

1
¹
⁄
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tablespoons cornstarch

³
⁄
₄
cup milk

¹
⁄
₄
cup white wine

¹
⁄
₂
cup mascarpone cheese

1 cup grated cheese (equal parts Cheddar, Gouda, Monterey Jack)

¹
⁄
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cup bread crumbs

¹
⁄
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cup Parmesan cheese

Cook macaroni according to package directions. Drain and set aside. Pasta may be made a day ahead.
Note: Do not forget to drain and set aside. You do not want the pasta to be wet.

In a large saucepan, melt the butter over medium heat. Add garlic, salt, pepper, paprika, and cornstarch. Cook about 1–2 minutes. It will boil and thicken. Stir constantly.

Add milk and wine, stir, and let boil to thicken.

Remove from heat and add mascarpone cheese and grated cheeses.

Pour sauce over drained macaroni. Stir well. Fill 6–8 appetizer-sized ramekins with the mixture. Top with bread crumbs mixed with the Parmesan cheese.

Turn oven on to broil. Set the ramekins about 4 inches under broiler. Broil for 5–6 minutes until crisp.

Serve hot.

[
Note from Charlotte
:
This is perhaps my all-time favorite comfort-food appetizer. It simply melts in your mouth. The wine adds just a hint of a kick! For a gluten-free option, which I make for the twins since Clair has to eat gluten-free, I use gluten-free pasta and gluten-free bread crumbs. Everything else is good to go! Enjoy!]

Goat Cheese Cookies

Gluten-Free

(MAKES 36–48 COOKIES)

2
¹
⁄
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cups gluten-free flour (I like sweet rice flour with tapioca starch)

¹
⁄
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teaspoon baking soda

1 teaspoon baking powder

¹
⁄
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teaspoon xanthan gum

¹
⁄
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teaspoon salt

1
¹
⁄
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cups sugar

¹
⁄
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cup crumbled goat cheese, room temperature

6 tablespoons unsalted butter, melted

¹
⁄
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cup vegetable oil

1 large egg

2 tablespoons milk

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

¹
⁄
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cup of sugar for coating cookies

Preheat oven to 350 degrees F.

Line a baking sheet with parchment paper.

In a small bowl, whisk together gluten-free flour, baking powder, baking soda, xanthan gum, and salt. Set aside.

In a large bowl, combine the sugar, crumbled goat cheese, and melted butter. Whip the mixture for 1 minute. Add in the vegetable oil. Stir. Add the egg, milk, and vanilla extract, and stir the mixture until smooth. (You might still see a few lumps; that's okay.)

Add the flour mixture and stir well. The dough will be soft but should be workable. If it's not, refrigerate the dough until it stiffens up, about 15 minutes.

Pour the
¹
⁄
₂
cup of sugar for coating cookies into a small cereal-sized bowl. Using your fingers, take a tablespoon of cookie dough, roll it into a ball, and roll it in the sugar to coat. Set the cookie on the prepared baking sheet. Remember to leave about 2 inches between cookies. They will spread.

Bake each batch for 10–12 minutes, until the cookies are just set and slightly cracked. DON'T overcook.

Cool on the baking sheet for 3 minutes, then transfer the cookies to a wire rack or paper towels to cool. Store the cookies in an airtight container for up to 1 week. They may be frozen if wrapped individually in plastic wrap.

[
Note from Charlotte:
Goat cheese, like buttermilk, adds a delicate tang to these cookies, almost like lemon, which is a perfect balance for all the sugar. Trust me. They are chewy, yet crisp.]

[
Second note from Charlotte:
For regular cookies, substitute out the gluten-free flour with regular flour and omit the xanthan gum.]