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Authors: Lee Hollis

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BOOK: Death of a Kitchen Diva (Hayley Powell Food and Cocktail Mysteries)

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Chapter 5

Sal Moretti was never one to admit he was wrong. He would probably rather have a wisdom tooth extracted. Twice. But when the paper hit the stands and appeared online with Hayley’s first column, the avalanche of e-mails, letters, and phone calls from new fans of Hayley Powell was just too much to ignore. People liked Hayley talking about her dog Leroy. Hearing about the tourists who ate the poisoned mushrooms was a kick. And so typical of tourists. And more than a few ran out to the Shop ’n Save to load up on the ingredients so they could make that cool tasty refreshing Lemon Drop Martini. It was also reported that the produce section ran out of mushrooms because too many shoppers wanted to try out Hayley’s Maine Crab Stuffed Mushrooms recipe.

“Fine. You were right. People like that crap,” Sal said, taking a big bite of a poppy seed bagel smeared with cream cheese and washing it down with a cup of black coffee.

Hayley stood in his office doorway, trying to act nonchalant, but inside feeling euphoric. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Don’t get too cocky, and I’m telling you right now, they can give you a Pulitzer Prize for all I care, I’m not paying you a cent over fifty dollars per column,” Sal said, wiping some spilled cream cheese off his blue shirt with a napkin.

“Absolutely. Understood.”

“Now get out of my office and get to work on your next column.”

Hayley returned to her desk and sat down. The sales department (which was basically one person, Eddie Farley, who sat in the back and watched Fox News all day on his portable TV that he kept hidden in a desk drawer) e-mailed Hayley to let her know the paper was on track to enjoy a fifteen percent sales boost that week. And he was convinced it was because word was spreading about Hayley’s entertaining musings.

Hayley glanced out the window to see Bruce Linney pull up in front of the building. She’d heard on the police scanner that there was a break-in at Razor Rick’s Barber Shop the night before, so Bruce had been out most of the night following up leads and interviewing the cops. He looked beat, especially since he had been out fishing with Sal late and then worked all night.

She didn’t expect him to be in a good mood, but he was more distracted and short-tempered than usual.

“Morning, Bruce,” Hayley chirped, keeping things light and pleasant.

He grunted his reply, and marched into the back toward the desk he shared with the arts and leisure editor, a kid who was barely out of high school and only did the job part time when she was home from college. There was even less arts and leisure to cover in Bar Harbor than crime, especially with the busy summer season winding down.

Eddie, who never liked Bruce and let him know it at last year’s Christmas party after too much bourbon-spiked eggnog, was itching to rib him about Hayley’s successful first column. Hayley winced as she heard Eddie shuffle over to Bruce, who was at the coffee machine pouring himself a cup.

“Looks like we have a new star here at the
Island Times
,” Eddie said.

“Don’t start with me, okay? I’ve been up all night,” Bruce growled.

“I saw Hattie Jenkins this morning. She was with that group of seniors who wear the red hats and hike around town before dawn.”

“So?”

“Even she said she loved Hayley’s column,” Eddie said, nudging Bruce. “Big dog lover, I guess. Plus, I hear Hattie likes to tip a few while watching Diane Sawyer, so she probably loved that Lemon Drop Martini recipe, too.”

“Are you going to bore me all day talking about Hayley’s column or are you going to go out and sell some ad space before this whole paper goes under?”

“Sounds to me like somebody’s jealous.”

Hayley couldn’t take anymore. She jumped to her feet, and called out to Sal, “I’m going to go withdraw some petty cash at the bank. Be back in five.”

And she was out the door.

Hayley couldn’t help but be happy about people actually reading, let alone liking, her column, but she certainly didn’t want to upset the reporters in the office. She decided to downplay it, and just get through the day doing her real job, serving as the paper’s office manager. She didn’t really need to drive to the bank. It was only a few blocks away. But it was sweltering and humid, and her hair was already starting to frizz like a Chia Pet, according to her son.

Was Bruce really jealous? The idea made her chuckle. He had been a journalism major at the University of Maine in Orono. He had worked for a major Bangor paper before moving back to the island and taking over the crime beat for Sal. How could he possibly be threatened by her? And why was she wasting her time thinking about Bruce now anyway? She should be enjoying her fifteen minutes of fame. Not focusing on some old high school fling who didn’t really like her anyway. No, she was going to forget about Bruce.

And it was a good thing, too, because as she raced into the bank someone else immediately became the focus of her attention. Someone who looked a lot more put out with her than Bruce.

Karen Applebaum.

Karen was the cooking columnist for the
Times
’ rival paper, the
Bar Harbor Herald.
Karen was very prim and proper, always dressed to the nines, and had the hint of a British accent, even though she was born and raised in town, and didn’t even have a passport. Karen fancied herself a local institution, running sewing circles and scrapbook clubs, and went all out when it came to bake sales and fundraisers. She was in her early fifties and knew everything that went on in town. But the one thing that got by her until today was that the
Times
was going to introduce a new food and wine columnist.

Hayley could see the storm clouds gathering.

Karen had enjoyed little competition from Hattie Jenkins, who she laughed at for peddling her tired and tasteless green bean casserole and ambrosia salad staples. In fact, Karen was instrumental in getting Hattie bounced from the
Herald
for being out of step with the times, and then she wasted no time in offering herself up as a replacement. There was never any love lost between the two.

When word got out that Hattie was retiring, Karen just assumed the
Times
would let the column die a quick, deserved death. And then she would be the premier voice when it came to cooking and entertaining and arts and crafts. So it came as a rather rude awakening when Hayley blew onto the scene so quickly and stole her thunder.

And it was especially tense this early morning in the bank when the hefty, sweet as pie bank teller Pam Innsbrook, with her bright smile and cherubic face, looked up and practically screamed at the sight of Hayley.

“Hello, Hayley! I loved your column. I can’t wait to read it next week! I have a Chihuahua named Cricket who drives me crazy, too!”

“Thank you so much, Pam,” Hayley said, feeling Karen Applebaum’s eyes burning a hole in the back of her head.

Hayley just wanted to get out of there, but Pam was taking her sweet time counting out the money for Hayley.

“I’m going to try and make your Crab Stuffed Mushrooms tonight, but it’s already been a long day, so I may add a full cup of dry sherry instead of a quarter cup,” Pam said giddily. “I can’t believe I’ve lived in Maine all my life and never made Maine Stuffed Crab Mushrooms. Isn’t that the craziest?”

This was interminable. Karen was standing directly behind Hayley. It would be awkward to ignore her, so when Pam finally handed the cash over to her, Hayley scooped it up, stuffed it into an envelope, and twirled around, plastering on her biggest, friendliest, warmest smile.

“Good morning, Karen,” Hayley said. “How have you been?”

The whole bank was watching.

Karen looked at Hayley, her stone face giving nothing away. Then, she stepped around Hayley and slapped a check down on the counter.

“I’d like to deposit this, please, Pam,” Karen said flatly. “And I’m in a bit of a hurry, if you don’t mind, so I don’t have a lot of time for chitchat.”

There wasn’t a sound in the bank. Karen had completely snubbed Hayley.

Hayley kept the smile plastered on her face, but her cheeks were red, and it was obvious she was embarrassed. Hayley looked straight ahead and marched out of the bank, refusing to give Karen the benefit of causing a scene. Hayley had certainly made a few enemies in town over the years. Who wouldn’t, living in the same place your whole life? But Karen Applebaum was someone you just didn’t mess with. She had a vicious mean streak. It was not a good idea to get on her bad side.

Gemma’s favorite Disney movie growing up was
Sleeping Beauty,
and Hayley always thought the evil witch—who pricked Princess Aurora’s finger and sent her reeling into a years’ long coma before turning herself into a fire-breathing dragon to take on the prince at the end of the movie—always bore a faint resemblance to Karen Applebaum. So this was a potentially disastrous situation. Her day was off to an ominous start. But she had no idea at the time it was about to get a whole lot worse.

Especially when she hit that poor man with her car.

Chapter 6

Hayley hurried out of the bank, jumped into her Subaru wagon, and peeled out of her parking space, heading straight back down Main Street to the office. Her mind was on Karen Applebaum, and how rude she had been.

She was also thinking about her next column. What would she write about? And speaking of food, what would she feed the kids for dinner? Her head was so full of random thoughts she just didn’t see the man step into the crosswalk. And the next thing she knew, he was staring at her through the windshield on top of her hood. Then when she instinctively slammed on the brakes, he rolled off and hit the pavement, because he didn’t have a good enough grip on her windshield wiper.

Throwing open the driver’s side door and screaming, Hayley raced over to the man, who was now standing up, his pant leg torn, and his knee bloodied.

“Oh my God, are you all right?” Hayley screamed.

“I’m fine. Just a small cut,” the man said, wiping gravel off his plaid shirt.

“I need to get you to the hospital,” Hayley screamed.

“You need to calm down and stop screaming. I’m okay.”

But Hayley was already steering the man toward the passenger side of her car. Despite his protests, she physically shoved him in the car, slammed the door shut, scurried back around to jump behind the wheel, and tore off toward the hospital.

“Slow down or you’re going to hit somebody else,” the man said, buckling himself in for the roller-coaster ride.

Hayley glanced down at the man’s bloodied knee. “I can’t believe I did that.”

The man put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “I think I’m going to live.”

She felt a charge from his gentle touch, but she kept her eyes on the road. “We’ll let a doctor decide that.”

Hayley knew who the man was. Lex Bansfield. The caretaker at the Hollingsworth estate. The Hollingsworth family became filthy rich from a line of frozen seafood dinners, and had purchased a sprawling property along the shore with lush gardens, a stone mansion, and several guest houses, including the one where Lex lived that was twice the size of Hayley’s tiny two-story structure with the leaking roof.

Lex was tall, a good foot and a half taller than Hayley, and he had dirty blond hair that was thick and wavy. Most women who met him imagined running their fingers through it. Hayley included. He had an easy comforting smile and at the moment was using it to try and get Hayley to relax a little bit. But she was so frazzled she barely remembered to switch on her blinker as she took a sharp right and roared up Hancock Street toward the hospital’s emergency entrance.

“Please tell me you’re not taking me around back to the emergency entrance,” Lex groaned.

“You may have a concussion from the fall,” Hayley said. “We’re not taking any chances.”

Hayley nearly sideswiped a parked ambulance as she squealed up to the large glass doors, and jumped back out of the car to escort Lex inside. He was halfway out the door by the time she got to him. She took him by the arm, and to her surprise, he didn’t try to shake her off. She couldn’t decide if he needed her help to walk or he just liked her touching him.

Once inside, Hayley pounded on the desk, demanding Lex be seen right away. A burly balding orderly barreled around the corner with a wheelchair and a clipboard full of paperwork.

“I’m not sitting down in that thing,” Lex scoffed.

But he barely got the words out before Hayley shoved him down in the wheelchair and they were rolling him off down a long hallway to get checked out by a doctor.

Lex called back to Hayley. “Could you call my boss, Edgar Hollingsworth, and tell him I’m going to be back a little late?”

“You don’t worry about a thing,” Hayley said. “I’ll take care of everything.”

Hayley whipped out her cell phone and immediately called the Hollingsworth estate. She got a maid on the phone, and was told Mr. Hollingsworth and his grandson were out boating but would be back in an hour and she would give them the message.

Then Hayley called Sal at the paper to explain her delay in coming back to the office from the bank.

Once the calls were made, Hayley’s thoughts went to more pressing matters. What if Lex Bansfield sued her for mowing him down with her car? She was barely hanging on by a thread financially at the moment, and the last thing she needed was an expensive civil lawsuit. And what if she was charged with reckless driving? Neither one of her kids had their driver’s license yet. How would she get them to and from all their school activities? No, she was not going to start worrying until there was something to actually start worrying about.

And then she went back to worrying.

Hayley waited about forty-five minutes for an update on Lex’s condition before she noticed her stomach growling, so she told a nurse where she was going and wandered down the hall to the hospital cafeteria for something to eat.

There wasn’t much of a selection. Some stale-looking ham and cheese sandwiches slathered with mayo. Tiny boxes of sugary cereals and a few pint-size milk cartons sitting atop a serving bowl full of ice. She was about to give up when she noticed a large round silver canister with a matching cover on top. There was a strip of masking tape on the cover with “New England Clam Chowder” scrawled over it in magic marker.

Classy joint.

Hayley picked up a ladle, took the top off, and served herself a small bowl. She had barely eaten her first spoonful when she realized she had made a terrible mistake. The chowder was pasty and bland and the one small piece of clam she got was rubbery and disgusting. Hayley looked around to make sure no one was watching, and dumped the whole thing into the garbage can near the register. She knew a much better recipe for New England clam chowder.

Maybe that would be her next column.

Lex ambled around the corner looking for her. She could see a white bandage wrapped around his knee through the big tear in his pants. He smiled as he approached her.

“Doctor said it’s a good thing you brought me in when you did because I might not have made it.”

“Seriously?” Hayley’s mouth dropped open.

“No, I’m teasing,” he said. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

There was an awkward moment. Hayley hated those moments and usually filled them with endless chatter.

“I am so sorry again for what happened.”

“I know you are.”

“There was no excuse for my bad driving, and I don’t know what to say except ...”

“Listen, there’s something I need to ask ...”

“Please, please don’t sue me!”

“Say what?”

“I’m a single mother with two growing kids, an astronomical heating bill in the winter, and a car that barely gets me to work without overheating. I have insurance but my payments have been spotty mostly because I used up my savings to send my daughter, Gemma, to soccer camp in July, but I promise I will make it up to you. You name it. I’ll do it. I’ll come work part time for you at the Hollingsworth estate raking leaves, or watering plants, or walking their dogs. Anything.”

“How about you go out with me?”

Hayley was stunned. This was not what she was expecting. And it threw her.

She didn’t know how to respond. She wanted to say yes. But she had been through such a stressful morning, and she hadn’t been out on a date in so long, and she was in such a confused state at the moment that she heard herself say, “No, I don’t think that’s such a good idea right now.”

Really? Did she actually just turn him down? What was she thinking?

She opened her mouth to retract her rejection when a voice called out from behind them, “Ouch!”

Both Lex and Hayley spun around to see Edgar Hollingsworth and his grandson Travis walking down the corridor toward them.

Edgar was in his early seventies and had somewhat of a hunchback, white thinning hair, and a long face with a pronounced nose, and there was almost a grayish hue to his complexion. He wasn’t the most handsome older man on the island, but he didn’t have to be. He was worth three hundred million. He was also grouchy and a man of few words.

His grandson Travis, on the other hand, was young, probably mid-twenties, sexy, well built, and ten times more charismatic than his grandfather. He was a little spoiled, but how could anyone blame him? He didn’t have to work a day in his life. He just traveled the world having adventures and spending his family’s money.

“Oh man, that’s sad, Lex,” Travis said, laughing. “The woman hits you with her car and you still can’t close the deal. I would’ve thought you at least had a shot by guilting her into a date.”

Travis was howling now, and Lex just stood there and took it. How could he not? The kid’s granddaddy signed his paychecks.

Hayley felt awful. But the moment was now in the past and it seemed a little too late to try to backtrack and rectify it.

“If you need anything ...” Hayley’s words trailed off.

“Thanks, I’ll be fine,” Lex said softly.

Edgar Hollingsworth never even bothered to ask how Lex was doing after such a near tragedy. He was more concerned with Lex clearing some brush from one of the walking paths on the property and was already barking new marching orders for the afternoon shift.

As the three men headed out, leaving Hayley just standing there and feeling awful, Travis said to Lex, “Maybe she’s just into younger men.”

He turned his head around and gave her a wink. “I’m in town for a few weeks. You know where to find me.”

Hayley forced a smile. She knew she had blown it with Lex big-time.

BOOK: Death of a Kitchen Diva (Hayley Powell Food and Cocktail Mysteries)

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