Death of a Bacon Heiress (7 page)

BOOK: Death of a Bacon Heiress
11.74Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
Chapter 10
Hayley poured the last of the coffee into her mug, the one with a picture of her dog, Leroy, on the side, and shook the round glass pot to make sure she got every last drop.
Boy, did she need caffeine this morning.
She had been up all night writing her first blog for Olivia Redmond.
Writing a paragraph.
Then deleting it.
Writing it again.
Deleting it again.
She wanted her first blog entry to be eye catching and interesting, with an appetizing recipe to get a fevered discussion going online. If she banged out a hurried, run-of-the-mill column and posted it, and it just lay there garnering very few hits, then she would be done working for the Redmond Meats Web site barely after she had begun. This wasn't the
Island Times
.
Sal was very forgiving if on occasion one of her columns was rushed.
Besides, she was also juggling office manager duties in addition to serving as the paper's food-and-cocktails writer.
But Redmond Meats was big business. This was a Fortune 500 company. Screw up once, and she would be out. Despite the CEO's fondness for her recipes.
Hayley had settled on a Bacon Strip Pancakes dish, one she was certain Olivia would drool over. She wrote about how her grandmother used to make them back when Hayley was a teenage girl worried about her weight and yet still couldn't resist them.
It was a sentimental and sweet story, and there was an aching in Hayley's heart as she wrote it because she still missed her father's mother, who had died way back in 1997. She knew Olivia wanted to approve the story before it was posted on the site because she had sent Hayley an e-mail around dinnertime the night before requesting she get it by morning so it could be up on the site by noon eastern time.
So Hayley had e-mailed the blog entry to her at six-thirty in the morning after polishing it one last time. Now it was after eight and she was trying to stay awake to make it through the day.
When she hadn't heard anything by lunchtime, Hayley sent Olivia another e-mail to confirm she had received her original e-mail with the attachment.
She didn't hear anything back.
By three o'clock, she checked the Redmond Meats Web site.
No sign of her tasty Bacon Strip Pancakes recipe.
There was a brief bit about Hayley joining the Redmond Meats family with a small, amazingly flattering photo of her off to the right, but that was it.
Hayley picked up the phone and called the Redmond Estate.
No one picked up.
Not even the maid.
She just got a voice mail message asking to leave her name and number.
By five, it was quitting time. It had been an unusually quiet day. No fires or arrests or car accidents on Route 3.
Sal had spent most of the day in his office on the phone following up on a corruption tip surrounding a state senator.
Bruce had been out all day presumably following leads in the missing Jackson Lab scientist story.
The rest of the staff was out as well, including the sales reps hustling business and the reporters and staff photographers covering local stories and snapping pictures at the girls' softball team's home game.
So no one was around when Hayley cleared out her in-box, shut down her computer, grabbed her purse, and fled out the door to her car.
Remarkably, the engine roared to life on the first turn of the key, which was rare these days, and she drove out of town to the Redmond Estate.
When she pulled up in front of the main house, she spotted the young maid with whom she had tussled earlier. The girl was locking the front door with a key. She turned in time to see Hayley jump out of her car.
“Hi . . . Excuse me, I forgot your name,” Hayley said, trying to be as pleasant as possible since the maid wasn't exactly a fan.
Sure enough, she grimaced and said flatly, “Caroline.”
“Yes, Caroline. How could I forget?”
“Because you never asked before and I never told you.”
Hayley let that one slide by because the girl was right.
“Could you tell me if Olivia is inside? I know I didn't call first, but I've been trying to reach her all day and it's kind of important.”
Caroline shrugged. “I don't know. She was in her office this morning—I heard her on the phone when I was dusting—but then I think she took Pork Chop out for a walk. I didn't hear her come back, so I just assumed they went into town and haven't returned yet.”
Hayley scanned the grounds, settling on a detached garage opposite the main house. The garage doors were open, revealing a silver Rolls Royce parked inside. “Isn't that her car right over there?”
Caroline glanced over at the Rolls and she suddenly looked slightly unsettled. “Yes.”
“So she probably didn't drive into town.”
“She could've gotten a ride with one of the groundskeepers. They usually quit around three and sometimes she'll have one take her to the market so she doesn't have to go to the trouble of taking the Rolls out and finding the right parking spot. She's very particular about where she parks her Rolls because she's afraid of someone parking too close to it and scratching the side.”
“I see. That's probably it,” Hayley said.
The girl wanted to leave, but was unsure if she should leave Hayley unsupervised given what had happened the last time, when she caught her poking around where she wasn't supposed to.
“Is there anything else?” she asked, eyeing Hayley suspiciously.
“No. But I think I'm going to hang around out here for a while and wait to see if she comes back. Like I said, it's kind of important.”
Caroline nodded and then reflexively turned to make sure the door to the main house was locked tight. After firmly jiggling the large brass knob, she brushed past Hayley and walked to a small, beat-up maroon Honda Accord that was parked around the side of the house. It took three tries before the girl got the tired, wheezing motor running. She then shifted the car into reverse and backed out, nearly knocking Hayley down before peeling away—the tires kicking up small pebbles from the gravel driveway, one nearly taking Hayley's eye out—before she drove up to the main road, turned right, and disappeared.
Hayley wondered where Olivia and Pork Chop could have gone. Even if she had taken her pet pig into town with one of the groundskeepers around three o'clock, it was already past five-thirty.
Unless she had never gone to town.
Caroline had told her Olivia had taken Pork Chop for a walk earlier that morning and she had not heard them come back.
So what if she hadn't come back? What if she was still wandering around in the estate gardens somewhere?
Hayley strolled over to the expansive gardens that made up over half the property, a woodland and flower oasis with azaleas, rhododendrons, and lilacs lining the small dirt path that led to the center, and a white gazebo next to a natural pond all with the crystal blue Atlantic ocean as a backdrop. It was stunning, and with a light breeze, it was quiet and peaceful.
Hayley paused for a moment and stared at the view. She still couldn't believe sometimes she actually lived in the heart of such incredible natural beauty.
She felt something cold and wet on her leg, snapping her out of her reverie.
She didn't jump this time because she was now familiar with this particular feeling and the low grunting that accompanied it.
Hayley looked down to see Pork Chop sniffing her leg. He was covered in dry mud and still wore the diamond-studded collar with the leash attached, which was also caked in dirt.
“Pork Chop, what happened to you?”
She bent down to pet the pig, whose eyes were wide with panic. As she reached out with her hand, the pig backed away. But he wasn't frightened of her.
He was upset.
He waddled in the opposite direction, dragging the leash behind him.
Hayley stood up and followed him deeper into the gardens.
The sun vanished behind a thicket of trees as Hayley came upon a small patch of grass in a shaded area away from the blooming spring flowers.
Pork Chop ran so far ahead of her she lost sight of him momentarily, but then she heard a wailing sound. It was an agonizing cry, as if the poor pig was in pain. She followed the sound and came upon a muddy area where a sprinkler system was timed to shower the foliage and grass. There she saw Pork Chop circling around a body lying facedown in a mud puddle.
It was a woman.
Her long flower print skirt was hiked up just above her knees, her short-sleeved white blouse was stained and dirty, and her bare arms were akimbo.
Hayley gasped.
There was no question who it was, judging by the inconsolable behavior of Pork Chop, who continued wailing and snorting.
This was bacon heiress Olivia Redmond.
And she was very much dead.
Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell
My grandmother used to make my brother and me the most delicious Bacon Strip Pancakes when we were kids. I carried on this tradition, whipping them up for my own kids as soon as they could eat solid food.
Because, after all, who wouldn't love a crispy strip of bacon covered with a little pancake batter, then grilled to perfection before being dipped in a bowl of warmed real maple syrup?
Am I right, people?
One time I tried to impress the Ladies Auxiliary by serving them at their 2010 Mount Desert Island Hospital breakfast benefit, but things didn't exactly go according to plan. I cringe at the memory.
I was home relaxing one evening after work with a nerve-calming orange-juice-cranberry vodka cocktail when my phone rang. It was the Ladies Auxiliary president, Mrs. Cunningham, calling to ask if I would be so kind to contribute a dish to their fund-raiser breakfast the following Saturday. Of course I was flattered and immediately accepted, and perhaps fueled by the strong cocktail in my hand, heard myself volunteering to make my grandmother's Bacon Strip Pancakes for everyone who attended if I could have access to the hospital's kitchen. Mrs. Cunningham was thrilled. She offered to provide all the bacon, which was a relief since the price of bacon had recently spiked at the Shop 'n Save.
Ever the organized chef, I prepared my batter the night before and poured it into a large container. With a black marker I wrote my name on the side and also labeled it “pancake batter” and then drove it over to the hospital kitchen where I placed it in the fridge overnight. I would return in the morning at 6:00
AM
to get a head start frying the bacon before the breakfast at 8:00
AM
.
The perfect plan.
If
I had remembered to set my alarm clock when I went to bed that night. By the time I opened one eye to see the clock, it was already past 7:00
AM
! I jumped out of bed and ran around the bedroom, grabbing clothes, slapping on makeup, tying my hair in a ponytail, grabbing my keys, and hightailing it to the car.
I arrived at the hospital in record time, squealing into a free parking space, berating myself for nearly blowing my first chance to participate in one of the town's favorite hospital fund-raisers. Racing into the kitchen out of breath, I did a quick survey. Pounds and pounds of bacon were already sizzling on the giant flattop grill manned by a few of the auxiliary women volunteers. A big sigh of relief! After a quick apology, I hurried to the refrigerator, proud of myself for having the foresight to prepare the pancake batter ahead of time. But then I swung open the refrigerator door and just stared at the empty shelf. The batter wasn't there. I spun around and spotted the marked container sitting on the counter. Another sigh of relief! But when I scurried over to pick it up, I realized the container was empty!
At that moment, Rosie, the weekend breakfast cook, sailed through the door into the kitchen.
“Rosie!” I shrieked, probably a tad too loud as the poor woman nearly jumped out of her skin. I asked about the pancake batter, and with a big grin, Rosie thanked me profusely. She saw my name marked on the side of the container, so she knew who was responsible for dropping off such a delicious treat for the children in the sick ward, at least those who didn't have special dietary needs. The kids loved them and she made sure they all knew I was the one who had so generously donated the batter.
My heart sank. I covered, of course, by plastering a big smile on my face and telling Rosie it was my pleasure. Anything to brighten the day of those sick kids!
Well, I may have been Saint Hayley in the eyes of Rosie and the kids, but that certainly wasn't going to help me with the Ladies Auxiliary. I asked the volunteers to start loading the cooked bacon in the waiting chaffing dishes as I ran to the pantry and scanned the shelves. And then I saw my salvation! A whole shelf completely stocked with those little boxes of prepackaged breakfast cereals! I snatched as many as I could and dumped them into a wheeling cart, and then burst through the swinging doors, pushing the cart, and started hurling the boxes of cereal in the air to the startled people who were trying to catch them. It was as if I was on a Fourth of July parade float in the middle of summer tossing candy to the kids!
But in the end, it all worked out, and thankfully no one asked for their money back. And the bacon, by the way, was delicious!
Here's the good news! I was asked to help out at the 2011 benefit breakfast, but I was only allowed to serve the juice and coffee. I'm keeping my fingers crossed that eventually I may be able to work my way back up to actually serving a dish one day! Never stop dreaming!
Before sharing my grandmother's Bacon Strip Pancakes recipe, let's enjoy a wonderful cocktail recipe I used to have all the time when I was a young single gal! Yes, the same one who got me into that whole mess!
 
 
Madras Cocktail
 
Ingredients
1½ ounces of your favorite vodka
3 ounces of cranberry juice
1 ounce orange juice
 
In a cocktail glass filled with ice, add the vodka and cranberry juice. Top off with the orange juice and stir. Then just sit back and remember the good old days!
 
 
My Grandmother's Bacon Strip Pancakes
 
Ingredients
12 slices of your favorite bacon cooked crisp on a medium-high heat electric griddle.
 
Easy Homemade Pancake Batter
1 egg
1¼ cup buttermilk (I almost never have buttermilk, so just add one tablespoon of vinegar to the 1¼ cup milk, stir, and let stand five minutes before using in recipe.)
2 tablespoons vegetable oil
1 cup all-purpose flour
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
½ teaspoon baking soda
½ teaspoon salt
 
In a mixing bowl add the egg and beat with a fork. Mix in the buttermilk and vegetable oil. Set aside.
In a large mixing bowl add the flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, salt and mix together.
Add the egg mixture to the flour mixture and mix until just blended together.
When you make your batter use a little less water or milk than you usually do to make a thicker batter; this will prevent the batter from running all over the place.
After bacon is cooked, remove from griddle and wipe the grease from the griddle. Return half the bacon back to the griddle and place it about two inches apart, then carefully pour batter over each slice of bacon. Once browned, carefully flip the pancake over and brown the other side. Serve with butter and warmed maple syrup.
You're welcome.

Other books

Bloodliner by Robert T. Jeschonek
Faking Perfect by Rebecca Phillips
Forced Out by Stephen Frey
The Merry Men of the Riverworld by John Gregory Betancourt