Cherry Buried Cake Read online

  “Disgusting. You cannot come near my food with those dog germs slathered on your face,” Chef Marcel said with a grimace. “I’ll never be able to find my focus to teach anything to this group. That is, if there’s even anyone left at the rate people are either dying, fainting, or just plain disappearing to their room.”

  George, who had been sitting quietly on the couch, snarled at Chef Marcel, “You’ll owe us a hefty refund if you don’t get your act together and deliver your course as promised. I paid for two for this event and you’d better come through.” He read from the French Pastry Event brochure, “Master Chef Marcel will share his secrets of the world of sweets which returns you to your carefree childhood.” George looked up. “That’s a pretty hefty promotion along with your promise that attendees will master the intricacies of making a perfect éclair, sweet petit fours, and much, much more.”

  The color in Chef Marcel’s face drained away to the likeness of an éclair filling—pale yellow. “Of course, I am under unexpected duress with this,” he waved his arm through the air, “this less than perfect environment.”

  George huffed and glared. “I don’t like excuses.” He looked at Leona. “I guess dinner will be delayed? I’m going to my room to clean up. Come on Sarah.” George walked to the doorway without looking to see if his wife was following. She was.

  “Oh dear,” Connie sucked in a deep lungful of air. “I’m so sorry. I guess that wine went right to my head. Could you help me to my room? I think I want to rest for a bit before we eat.”

  Leona looked at Annie with an expression of complete panic. Annie knew she was thinking that all her hard work to make a perfect meal could be ruined.

  Annie stood and patted Connie’s shoulder. “Of course. I’ll help you upstairs while Leona puts the last touches on her dinner.” She looked at Leona and nodded her head toward the kitchen.

  “Thank you, dear. Maybe if I rest for a half hour I’ll get some strength back.”

  “Call me when the food is on the table,” Chef Marcel announced as if he was royalty. “I’ll be in my room, too.” He stomped from the living room with his wine glass in one hand and an almost full wine bottle clenched in the other.

  Annie, with one arm under Connie’s armpit, helped her to a standing position. Connie kept her other arm curled tightly around Buddy. “Are you sure this is no bother for you?” she asked Annie.

  “Don’t be silly.” What else could she say?

  They slowly made their way to the stairs and after what seemed to drag on for the whole night, they finally made it to Connie’s room.

  “There you go. I’ll be back to check on you,” Annie said after Connie was stretched out on her bed.

  Annie heard snoring before the door was even closed.

  4

  My dinner is ruined,” Leona sobbed. “I have this perfectly cooked chicken cordon bleu, scalloped potatoes that will get gooey if they sit around any longer, and a beautiful spinach salad for each guest.” She picked up a roll from her wicker basket. “These are all cold now. What should I do?”

  “Cover your potatoes and keep them warm in the oven. Tent the meat with foil and it will be fine for twenty or thirty minutes. Make some extra sauce for the chicken, which will add some heat when it’s served. We can wrap the rolls and reheat them in the oven, too. It’s not perfect, but it will work.”

  Leona nodded and followed Annie’s suggestions.

  “Besides, by the time everyone is back downstairs, they’ll be hungry and won’t notice if your meal isn’t absolute perfection because it will be close enough.”

  Leona took a deep breath. Close enough wasn’t her standard of perfection. “Okay. I can do this. It’s a good thing you made it here tonight or I would be a big pile of mush. I feel like the only one with more anxiety than me is Chef Marcel. I can’t help but wonder if he’ll still teach his éclair segment tonight or use this storm as an excuse to get out of his commitment.”

  “That’s not your problem, Leona. The guests all paid Chef Marcel for the pastry workshop, not you. Besides, I think George will demand it. If he doesn’t get his money’s worth, he’s going to make the chef give him a refund and that confrontation won’t be pretty,” Annie warned.

  Annie reached for the tray of condiments for the dining room table when the kitchen was suddenly pitched into darkness. Annie froze, unable to see anything. She waited for her eyes to adjust, but the blackness was a shroud in the kitchen.

  Leona gasped. “The power’s out?” It was a question with no need for an answer. Her hand wrapped like a vise around Annie’s arm. “What? This can’t be happening,” she moaned.

  “You have a generator, don’t you?”

  “I do but Danny usually takes care of getting it started when the power goes out.”

  “We’ll manage, but the first thing we need is to find some sort of light.” Annie pulled open one of the kitchen drawers and felt around with her free hand. Her fingers wrapped around a flashlight. “This should help.” She clicked the button. Nothing.

  “What’d you find?”

  “A flashlight . . . with dead batteries. Where are your candles?”

  “On the buffet in the dining room.”

  Annie carefully felt her way into the dining room. “Oof.”

  “Be careful of the corner of the table,” Leona warned.

  “Not helpful after I’ve already rammed my hip into that corner. Give me a little more notice.” Annie tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice, but with a throbbing hip she wasn’t very successful.

  “Just keep your hands out in front of you and the buffet should be four more steps to your left.”

  Annie found the buffet, but, unfortunately, her hands also found something else. Whatever it was smashed into a million pieces.

  “Oh, no. Don’t tell me that was my antique china soup tureen.”

  “Okay. I won’t tell you.” Annie’s fingers inched over the buffet until she touched what she hoped was one of the hurricane lanterns. They were meant for atmosphere, not emergencies, but were better than nothing. “Where are your matches?”

  “In the drawer.”

  A beam of light illuminated the front of the buffet. Annie turned. “Where’d that light come from?”

  Leona had a sheepish grin. “I forgot about the flashlight feature on my cell phone. Can you find the matches now?”

  Another beam of light scanned from one side of the room to the other. It gave Annie the creeps, thinking there was an intruder with them in the dining room. “Who’s there?”

  “It’s me. Alex. I thought you might need some help down here.” As he spoke, he aimed his beam of light on the buffet and walked toward Annie. “Good. You have candles.”

  With the help of the light, Annie found the matches and lit all of the candles. “I guess I should check on the guests?” She posed her question to Leona, hoping she would take charge of the situation with a workable plan.

  The flickering candles, in a normal situation, would have filled the room with a warm atmosphere, but instead it created moving shapes that were anything but comforting.

  “Good idea. I’ll try to get the generator started.” Leona didn’t move.

  “I can help you,” Alex offered. “That is, if you want some help.”

  He waited patiently while Annie silently tried to communicate with Leona whether or not she felt safe to go to the garage with this stranger. Leona nodded.

  “Okay, then,” Annie said. “I’ll check on the other guests upstairs and tell them we should have power soon.”

  “And tell them dinner is ready, too,” Leona added. “Before everything is completely ruined.”

  “Got it.” Annie carried her hurricane lantern to the stairs. As she paused at the bottom, she felt something brush against her leg. “Is that you, Trouble? Coming with me upstairs?” Annie set the lantern on the bottom step and picked up the kitten. She rubbed her cheek against the soft fur. Trouble vigorously returned the affection, rubbing against Annie’s face
and purring happily. Company in the darkness, even if it was only Leona’s kitten, was better than nothing.

  With Trouble nestled in one arm and the lantern providing light, Annie made her way up the stairs. Doors opened and closed and worried voices mixed in the darkness.

  “What’s happened?” George demanded with Sarah clinging to his arm.

  “The power went out but Leona is getting her generator started. No need to panic. We’ll be back with lights soon.” Annie impressed herself with the confidence in her voice that completely hid the unease she actually felt.

  “And what about our dinner?” Sarah asked. “I’m beginning to feel faint.” She swiped the back of her hand across her forehead, closed her eyes, and sighed.

  Annie clenched her jaw and counted slowly to five. Of course it would be all about someone’s stomach at a time like this.

  More doors opened and more guests milled around in the hallway.

  “Well, if you all want to follow me, I’m sure by the time we’re downstairs Leona will have the power on.”

  Annie held up the lantern to light the stairs and headed down. Shoes tapped on the hardwood and whispers echoed off the walls.

  At the bottom, Annie waited while the others caught up with her before she led the way into the dining room which had several hurricane lanterns glowing on the buffet. “I’ll be out with the food if you care to seat yourselves.”

  Annie pushed through into the kitchen just as light flooded the room. She pumped her clenched fist and let out a loud, “Yes.”

  The back door that led into the mudroom off the kitchen, opened and closed. Annie peeked through the doorway and was relieved to see Leona and Alex. They stomped the snow off their boots and brushed snow off their coats before hanging them on the coatrack.

  “Did you get everyone downstairs for dinner?” Leona asked.

  “I led the way but I didn’t think to do an actual head count.” Annie picked up the basket of rolls and the butter. “I’ll bring this out and check if everyone made it to the table.”

  Annie used her hip to push the door to the dining room open and announced, “Here we go. The rest of the meal will be out shortly.” Her eyes scanned the table—Sarah, George, Connie with Buddy in her lap, and even Robin sat comfortably at the table. “Where’s Chef Marcel? Has anyone seen him since the lights came back on?”

  They all glanced at the empty chair and shook their heads. “Maybe he fell asleep,” Connie suggested. She helped herself to a roll, breaking off a chunk and giving it to Buddy. “I had a short nap myself but the commotion when the power went out woke me up.”

  Leona carried in a tray with the chicken cordon bleu and the salad. Alex followed with Leona’s casserole of scalloped potatoes. Perfect comfort food for a night like they were having, Annie said to herself.

  “Sorry about the power thing.” Leona balanced the tray, reached around Connie, and set the platter of meat and the salad on the table.

  “No need to apologize,” Alex said, adding the scalloped potatoes. “It’s not like you could control Mother Nature.”

  “Yes, well, I still want everyone to have the best experience possible while they’re here at the Blackbird.”

  Robin had a wide grin on her face. “I don’t know about anyone else, but I’m having a great time.”

  She must be enjoying her people watching and analyzing, Annie thought. Her novel, when and if it got written, would be a must read on Annie’s TBR list.

  “Normally, we serve the guests and leave you to yourselves, but considering the night we’re having, Annie and I will eat out here, too,” Leona said. “Any objections?”

  Connie patted the seat next to hers which was meant for Chef Marcel. “How about you sit right here, Alex?”

  Annie added three more placemats on the table and counted out three more sets of silverware from the buffet. Leona placed three snowflake plates on the placemats.

  “There.” Leona smiled and looked at her guests. “Go ahead and dig into the food. I’m going upstairs to check on Chef Marcel. I’m sure he won’t want to miss dinner.”

  Or that’s why he hasn’t come down yet, Annie said to herself. It would fit right in with his personality to snub Leona’s meal. She glanced at Robin who had her eyes on Alex. That made sense. He was the newcomer and she hadn’t had time to analyze him yet. What was her impression of the tall mysterious intruder?

  As if Alex sensed that Annie was thinking about him, he turned to her and asked, “What’s the story about Chef Marcel?”

  “Oh,” Connie butted in. “I’ll tell you what I know. He travels all over the country teaching pastry making techniques to the novice and experienced. I was so excited when this venue popped up on his Facebook page since it was one I could actually come to now that I’m retired.” She lowered her eyes. “I’ve been a fan of his for quite some time.” She reached into her bag that was hooked on the back of her chair. “Here’s one of his brochures. He even signed it for me.” She beamed with pleasure.

  Alex accepted the brochure with a laugh. “Does he pay you to promote him so effectively?”

  “Oh, tehe. Now wouldn’t that be nice. No, I paid the full price like everyone else.”

  “Well,” Alex said as he looked around the table, “thank you for letting me crash the workshop but don’t worry, you won’t even know I’m here. And, as soon as the roads are cleared, I’ll be on my way.”

  A loud thump sounded above their heads.

  “What was that?” Sarah asked. Her eyes suddenly widened.

  “Probably a branch banging against the house,” Annie assured her. Her answer didn’t reassure herself, though, since the thump was right overhead where one of the guest rooms was. She pushed her chair away from the table. “I’ll go upstairs and double check.”

  “Shouldn’t Leona have been back down here by now?” Sarah asked, her voice coming out in barely a whisper.

  Annie took the stairs two at a time and almost crashed into Leona on her way down.

  “What was that loud thump?”

  “I’d better show you.” Leona, all color drained from her face, grabbed onto Annie’s arm and pulled her down the hall to the first closed door.

  With each step, Annie’s stomach twisted into a tighter and tighter knot. Whatever was behind the door had spooked Leona. With her hand on the doorknob, Leona looked at Annie. “Ready?”

  Annie nodded but her heart said no.

  The door creaked on its hinges. Leona flipped the light switch. Chef Marcel lay in a heap on the floor.

  “Is he—”

  Leona nodded before Annie could finish her question.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m no expert, but he sure looks dead to me—he’s not moving, his eyes are staring at nothing. At first I thought he was asleep so I shook him and he rolled off the bed making a big thump. I think it’s safe to say that he’s dead. And look at this.” Leona pointed to a mark around the chef’s neck.

  Annie felt her jaw drop. “Strangled?”

  “I think so. What else would cause that?”

  Annie took a quick look around the room, taking in the chef’s open suitcase with clothes hanging out, papers spilled near the small desk, and various food items dumped on the dresser.

  She turned her attention back to Leona. “So, we’re stuck without power . . . the roads are closed . . . and we have a dead man on our hands? What’s next?”

  The room went dark.

  5

  Muffled voices filtered up from the dining room below.

  “The generator went out,” Leona said. “At least that I can fix . . . I think.”

  “What do we do with him?” Annie asked in the darkness.

  Leona already had her phone out. “I’ll call Detective Crank, but whether she can get here or not in this storm is another matter.”

  Annie felt her way into the hall. A light seeped from under one of the other rooms. “That’s odd.” She silently walked down the hall, grateful for the oriental runn
er that absorbed her footsteps. She pressed her ear to the door and listened. Someone was walking around inside but when she’d left the dining room, everyone had been seated around the table. Everyone except Chef Marcel and it definitely wasn’t him walking around behind this closed door.

  A shiver ran through her body. “Leona,” Annie called as quietly as possible. She motioned in the dull light for her to hurry closer.

  “What?”

  Annie pointed to the light.

  Leona took four long strides and was at Annie’s side with her phone light shining on the door. She grabbed the doorknob and pushed but it was locked. “Is Robin inside? This is the room I put her in,” she whispered.

  “I don’t think so. She was downstairs when I came up after we all heard the thump.”

  Leona had her master key. “If there’s ever a time to use this, I think the time is now. Whoever is in here might be up to some kind of mischief and I’ve about had all the surprises I can handle today.”

  By the time Leona got the door unlocked and opened, the room was dark and appeared to be empty. Leona put her arm out to stop Annie from charging inside. She scanned the phone light slowly from side to side. Nothing out of the ordinary caught their attention.

  “The bathroom,” Annie whispered in Leona’s ear.

  Before they moved any farther into the room, a voice behind them asked, “Is everything okay up here?”

  Both Leona and Annie let out surprised yelps. “I wish you wouldn’t keep sneaking up on us, Alex,” Annie said. What was it with this guy, anyway? Was he just a super conscientious, helpful guy? Maybe.

  “Unless you need help here, I could check the generator before there’s complete pandemonium downstairs,” he offered. “This crowd can’t handle the dark very well. If you want, I’ll tell them to sit tight until the lights come back on.”

  “Yes. Please,” Leona said. “We’ll be down soon.”

  “Is everyone still at the table?” Annie asked.

  Alex nodded. “Well, except for the chef.”