Murder On The Menu: A Romantic Comedy Culinary Cozy Mystery (A Celebrity Mystery) (16 page)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

The terrifying bend is only seconds away now, and Daisy’s speed is still increasing. The dark and the rain and fog crowd around us. “Jack!”

Jack reaches for Daisy’s handbrake and everything seems to go into slow motion. I continue to squeal.

“Put her in second gear and slowly release the clutch,” he yells at me.

“What?”  My brain’s locked into panic mode and I struggle to make sense of what he’s saying.

“Second gear and slowly release the clutch!” he repeats.

I do as instructed and Jack immediately starts pumping the handbrake up and down, keeping the button on the end pressed in.

As we battle to get Daisy back under control, her tyres squeal even louder than I’m doing. A huge gust of wind buffets us as we skid ever nearer to the bend.

Jack continues to work the handbrake, and I grip the steering wheel, my life flashing before my eyes. Daisy veers off the narrow road, and I recall the steep drops not far from the verge. I try to steer her back to safety, but she’s all over the place. Then, thankfully, my brain kicks into sensible mode and remembers there are escape lanes dotted around the mountain pass as safe havens for people with problem vehicles.  They’re short pieces of track with normal road surface to start with and then sand and gravel soon after which the vehicle sinks into, bringing it to a safe stop without the use of brakes. Is there one close by?  I struggle to remember their locations. This is the steepest part of the descent so there must be one soon.

Then another road sign flashes into view. It’s blue and white and says there’s an escape lane two hundred yard ahead. Hallelujah! Now I just need to steer Daisy into it.

“Go for it!” Jack says, obviously aware of my just-formed plan.

I think we’re slowing down a bit anyway but we still have the bend to navigate. Jack grabs the wheel from the passenger side and together we just manage to hold Daisy on the road through the curve and then head for the escape lane just past it.

Daisy hits the gravel, and I let go of the steering wheel, close my eyes, pray and scream. The seatbelts jolt as we slam to a stop and Daisy’s engine stalls.

“It’s OK,” Jack’s voice breaks into my horror. “Lizzie, it’s all right. Open your eyes, sweetheart.”

His hands close over my own and gently ease them away from my face as I open my eyes. We’ve stopped. We’re alive. I allow myself to breathe again.

“Are you all right?” he asks, softly brushing a strand of hair from my cheek.

I nod, feeling anything but all right mentally. I’m a nervous wreck. Physically, my shoulder is sore from the seatbelt but other than trembling like a leaf, I think I’m unharmed. I turn to him, my hands moving to his face, tracing his jaw, his lips. “Are you OK?”

He nods. “I’m fine. You were amazing. Brilliant driving back there.”

“How did you know?” I gasp. “That stuff about second gear, the clutch and pumping the handbrake on and off.”

“I did advanced driver training. It’s a requirement of my job with the agency.”

My hands fly to my chest and I let out a huge breath. “Thank goodness for that!”

His hand snakes across and squeezes my knee. “Everything is fine.”

The next thing I know we’re in each other’s arms. Jack releases my seatbelt and pulls me closer. The kiss is toe-curling and lip-tingling. Sensations further intensified by facing death and surviving, eager and happy to be alive. I don’t know how long it goes on for, but eventually we ease apart. Jack grins at me. “I thought you just wanted to be friends.”

A fierce blush swamps my cheeks. Oh well…

“Now we need to get out of here,” he adds, checking his phone. "Amazing, I’ve actually got some signal. I’ll call Frazer. He’s got one of those proper metal tow bars. He can tow us home with the Land Rover.”

I slump back in the driver’s seat and listen as Jack explains everything to his brother. Ending the call, he turns to me. “He’s on his way.”

“Good.” I clasp my hands in my lap. “I just want to get home and open the brandy! I think my nerves are well and truly shot now.”

Jack’s hand returns to my knee and he squeezes it gently. “I hate to say this, Lizzie, but this was no accident.”

My head spins round. “What?”

“My guess is somebody tampered with your brakes. Whoever it was, they want you off the scene.”

I gulp. “Somebody is trying to kill me?”

“It’s starting to look that way,” he says, his voice laced with seriousness.

“But why? I didn’t see anything that night Armand was stabbed. I don’t know who did it!”

“Maybe they think you did or maybe this is all about something else,” he says, easing my hands from my lap and wrapping his own around them. “But whatever it is, I’ll figure it out.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

On the way back to Frazer’s, I can’t stop shaking. Jack has his arm around me and is pulling me in close, hugging me, but my teeth are still chattering so loudly I fear they can hear them above the rattle of the Land Rover’s engine.

“It’s the shock coming out,” Jack says, giving me another reassuring squeeze. “We’ll get you warmed up and something strong and alcoholic inside you once we get back to Wellbeck, help calm your nerves.”

“I should go straight back to Eskdale. Stella and David will be wondering where I am!” I protest.

“I can give them a call and explain. Well, the short version of events, not the full details,” Jack says.

“No, thanks. Stella will just worry. I should go home.”

Frazer eases the Land Rover into the yard, manoeuvring it to place Daisy, at the other end of the metal tow bar, undercover in one of the barns. Switching off the engine, he says, “You two get aside and warm up. I’ll just unhook the car and be inside in a minute or two.”

In the kitchen I huddle against the blissfully warm Aga as Jack fusses around getting me a hot water bottle, a hot drink and a brandy.

“Why would somebody do this?” I ask him, then gulp down the brandy. “I don’t understand.”

“Don’t think about it for now,” he says, looking calm and collected, in complete contrast to my own distressed state.

“Frazer will check the car over and let us know his verdict. He used to be a mechanic before he took on the farm. He’ll know if it was plain old mechanical failure or something else.”

I nod and sip my hot drink. The shivering is started to subside a little now.

“Hey,” Frazer says when he strolls into the kitchen. He shoots me a concerned look. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks,” I lie and force a smile. My eyes flick towards the clock. “I really should get back.”

“Lizzie I don’t think…” Jack starts to protest.

“I’m fine,” I insist.

Jack shakes his head. “Here we go again with the fine.”

“I really do appreciate your help, both of you, so much, but I think I should go home now.”

Jack looks at Frazer, who shrugs. “The Land Rover is ready and waiting if you want to use it to run Lizzie home.”

“OK. Thanks.”

I put my mug down and give Frazer a quick hug. “Thanks again. Oh, how is Emma? Sorry, my mind isn’t fully functioning at the moment.”

“She’s doing really well, I’ll let her know you were asking after here. I’ll check your car over first thing tomorrow and let you know what happened with the brakes.”

“Thank you. You’re a star.”

Frazer shrugs and looks embarrassed. “No worries.”

“When was the last time Daisy was serviced?” Jack asks as he swings the Land Rover out of the yard and I throw a sorrowful look at poor Daisy.

Forcing my brain to focus, I mentally calculate when her last annual service was. I remember it was when we were still in London. It was before everything happened with Adam and the night of the… “About eight months ago,” I reply.

“Right. Well, it could have just been wear and tear. I mean, she’s not exactly built for this type of terrain, is she?” As if to perfectly illustrate his point, the Land Rover, now on the approach to Eskdale, starts rattling and bumping along the track. “We’ll know more tomorrow when Frazer’s had a chance to look her over.”

“Yes, of course.” My mind starts replaying the scene up on the mountain pass in Daisy, and I close my eyes against it. I don’t want to think about it. I want to think about something else. Recalling Jack’s driving knowledge, I ask, “Earlier, you said you did advanced driver training with the agency. You never told me how you came to work for the agency.”

“It just happened,” he replies, changing gear as the Land Rover edges into Eskdale’s yard. “I used to work for the police in London and was seconded to a special task force on a case which I’m not at liberty to talk about. Somebody spotted me, and I was headhunted and offered a job with the agency. Simple as that.”

“You said the other day about having inherited the adventure gene from your dad. How come you chose to pursue that by joining the police and not the army, like your dad did?”

“Suppose I wanted adventure without putting myself in the middle of a warzone. Cowardly, huh?”

“Of course not!” I protest as we clamber from the car.

He doesn’t reply, so I add, “I wonder if Stella and David have retired to bed.”

Jack shoots me a cheeky smile as we head for the door. “Perhaps we should make as much noise as possible when we go inside, just in case we interrupt their canoodling.”

A nervous giggle escapes me. “Canoodling! Nobody says that anymore.”

I suspect we’re both trying to brighten our mood after what’s happened.

“I do,” he retorts with definite playfulness in his voice. “I like a bit of canoodling myself.”

We needn’t have worried. Stella is sitting on the sofa flicking through a fashion magazine, and David is sprawled in a chair fast asleep.

“Hi!” she says, winking at me when Jack’s back is turned. I know exactly what she’s thinking and she can
stop
thinking it. “So, how did your amateur sleuthing go?”

“I’m not an amateur,” Jack replies, feigning indignation as he starts scrolling through his phone.

Should I tell her about the accident? I don’t want her to worry but, in the morning, she’ll notice Daisy is missing. May as well get it over with now, then hopefully I can try and put the whole thing behind me.

Then again, maybe not.

“We had a little accident tonight. A brake problem,” I say, playing things down. “Jack’s brother towed us back to his place and he’s going to fix Daisy. Nothing to worry about.”

Stella frowns and opens her mouth to speak. Desperate to distract her, I walk over to stand next to Jack and ask, “What are you looking for?”

“Doing some more digging on that Carl guy. In the pub earlier I thought I saw a poster with his picture on it. Something about a guest appearance locally at some hotel,” he replies, leaning closer and dipping down slightly so I can see the screen on his phone. “Knew it!” he says suddenly, with a small fist pump into the air.

“Knew what?” Stella and I both demand.

“On the day Armand was stabbed, Carl Slivers was in Cumbria, teaching a cookery class at a posh hotel on the shores of Lake Windermere,” Jack says, handing me the phone so I can see the details for myself.

“And who better to know how to wield a kitchen knife in a stabbing than another chef?” Stella joins in, reading the phone over my shoulder.

My spirits lift at the thought of the police pointing their suspect finger at somebody other than me. “We have to tell the police, right now.” I pull my phone from the pocket of my jeans. Jack gently takes it from my hands.

“No, we don’t. It won’t look good coming from you for starters – suspect number one.”

“I could phone in as a concerned member of the public offering information,” Stella chips in. “Just tell me what I need to say. Oooh, please, let me do it. I want to help.”

I look at Jack, and he nods his approval. “You’re sure you’re happy to do this?” I check with Stella, who nods enthusiastically.

“Just tell me what to say.”

“Tell them you remember seeing Carl Silvers was teaching a cookery class at this hotel,” he scribbles the details on a piece of paper and hands it to Stella. “Say it was on the day Armand Seville was murdered. You can add something about seeing them both on that Culinary Cook Off TV show and how fierce their rivalry seemed. That’s all. Don’t get drawn into saying anything else, not even your name. If they start asking questions, hang up immediately.”

“Won’t they be able to trace the call?” I ask worriedly, chewing, once again, on my poor fingernails.

“Stella will use my phone,” Jack replies. “Because of my job, it’s got stuff on it that means it’s totally untraceable.”

I throw Jack a raised-eyebrow look. “
Stuff
on it? Is that the technical term?”

“I’m no good with electronics.” He shoots me back a
hey-I’m-not-perfect
smile.

We use the Internet to find the number for the local police station, and Jack punches it in before handing the phone over to Stella. We watch with bated breath as Stella says exactly what we’d planned. As soon as she shuts off the phone, she jumps up and down with excitement.

“Everything OK? Did they start quizzing you?” I check, eager to ensure Stella doesn’t get dragged into this whole mess as well.

“It was awesome.” She hands the phone back to Jack. “They asked for my name and how I knew about the course but I shut them down. I wasn’t going to let them trick me into revealing anything. Maybe I missed my calling working in boring finance. I could have been helping fight crime and…”

“One call and suddenly everybody wants to be a special agent, fighting evil and catching the bad guys,” Jack says with a good-natured chuckle.

“What’s going on? Did I miss anything?” David asks as he wanders into the kitchen, running a hand through his already messy hair and still looking half asleep.

“Stella was just…” I start to explain but the woman in question shushes me.

“I’ll tell you upstairs,” she says, grabbing David’s arm and leading him out of the room. “It was so exciting.” Throwing a backwards glance in our direction she adds, “Besides, I think we should give the crime fighting duo some time alone to plan their next move.”

“Crime fighting duo!” I repeat, laughing nervously.

Jack moves to stand close to me again. “Isn’t that exactly what we are?”

The spicy and citrusy notes from his aftershave drift enticingly under my nose, and I can feel the heat of his arm next to mine despite our autumnal clothing. Reluctantly, I move away. I need to keep my focus on staying out of jail, not on this handsome special agent who might not know about electronics but certainly knows his way around a kiss. “So, what happens next?”

“Well, for one thing, I still need to delve into Bryony’s business dealings and see if I can find anything concrete about her being involved with Silvers. Plus, I want to run some checks on this Francesca woman who was the other finalist on that Culinary Cook Off competition.” He closes the gap I just created between us and rests a hand on top of mine. “If the Veggies is open from tomorrow, when are you next due to work there?”

“Tomorrow evening,” I say, feeling sick at the very thought of stepping back through those doors again. That, in itself, is bad enough, but to be working for fiery Carl Silvers who could have been the one who stabbed Armand, well, it doesn’t bear thinking about.

Jack’s thumb is gently stroking my hands now and it’s making me feel all tingly. “Will you be all right working there?”

I swallow and manage a nod, then pull my hand away. “I’ll have to be. The police will get suspicious if I don’t turn up for my shift. Plus, I need the money.”

“You know the place has been cleaned up. You’ll be fine.”

“I will be fine,” I say decisively, pulling away. “With any luck the police will have acted on Stella’s information by then, done all their checks and found Carl could well tick all the boxes with motive, opportunity and means. They might even have taken him in for questioning.” I lift the kettle and fill it with water at the tap. “Do you want a drink?”

“That depends.”

“On what?” I flip the switch and stay on the other side of the kitchen table from him, half of me wanting to be beside him again while the other half chants warnings in my head about keeping distance and maintaining focus.

“Whether I’m in the way or not.”

Turning my back, I busy myself getting mugs and coffee and milk. “Why would you think you’re in the way? I mean, you’re the one who is working to keep me from being arrested.” I lower my voice. “And from being killed tonight. I’m very grateful for that.”

“And yet I get the feeling you’re uncomfortable around me right now and want to put some space between us.”

I glance over my shoulder to see he’s staying where he is. Safely on the other side of the room.

“And I’m thinking it’s connected to the pretty damn amazing kisses we end up sharing.”

I say nothing. I’m not even sure what’s going on between us. We flirt a little. We kiss. Then we pull apart and make excuses. Well, I do. I’m in no position to start a relationship at the moment. Oh, my head is all over the place!

“Look, I’m sorry if I overstepped the mark. I thought you…” He pauses and I risk another look at him. He pushes a hand through his hair and looks endearingly nervous. “Well, I thought you liked me too.”

I can’t deny my attraction to him, but at the same time, admitting to it is asking for trouble. Big trouble. And I’ve had more than enough of that in my life as it is. “I do,” I eventually concede. “But, like I said before, with all of this murder business going on, I really need to focus on not getting arrested.” The kettle clicks off and I turn to face him. “And allowing myself to get involved with the guy who is working to clear my name, well, it wouldn’t be sensible, now would it?”

I expect an argument and am waiting for him to protest, but he doesn’t. Instead he says, “You’re right. Thanks for the offer of a coffee but I should get going and delve further into the bits of information we’ve found. Do me a favour and don’t leave the farm tonight. Stay indoors, everything locked up tight. If you hear any noises, see any prowlers, call me immediately. I’m only five minutes away. I’ll be in touch first thing tomorrow about Daisy.”