A Beeline to Murder

Eva Lennahan slipped two fingertips into the left waist pocket of her stylish suit and retrieved Abby’s card. As she looked at it, her expression hardened. “I do wish we could continue this chat, but I’m just here to show support for the Shakespeare troupe. Sorry to have to end our little discussion, but my husband awaits.” She looked at Philippe, who, supporting an etched wineglass by the stem in each hand, was obviously unable to shake her hand. Eva plucked away one of the glasses and held it against her chest while she extended the other hand toward Philippe.

The ensuing handshake was long enough to give Abby a full view of the rings Eva wore, especially the diamond engagement ring, with its filigree work.

“Pleasure to meet you, Philippe. . . . Ms. Mackenzie,” Eva said in a dismissive tone. In less than a heartbeat, the platinum-haired politician returned the glass to Philippe and pivoted away. As she strolled back down the walkway, she tossed Abby’s card into the nearest spit bucket. At the end of the paved walkway, a dark-haired man joined her. Together they disappeared into the packed parking lot.

Motioning to Philippe to come along, Abby followed Eva’s footsteps, peering into the sea of cars. Finally, she spotted a black sedan pulling away. Taking her glass from Philippe, she asked offhandedly, “Was it something I said?”

Philippe snorted. “You are asking me? I find . . . sometimes. . . American women difficult to comprehend. They smile too easily. They look you right in the eyes. This says to a man, ‘I want to have sex with you.’ ”

“No, it doesn’t. Surely not. Is that what you really think?” Abby didn’t try to hide her surprise.

“Oui. Is this not accurate?” Philippe stared at her, a baffled expression on his face.

“Well, that notion is certainly fodder for a long discussion, which we’ll have at another time,” Abby replied with a chuckle.

“This woman, is she a suspect?” Philippe asked, seemingly perplexed.

“I’m not sure,” Abby answered. “Murder suspects generally have a motive. I can’t fathom what hers might be. But I don’t think she welcomes any questions about your brother. Now, that arouses my curiosity.”

“Let me tell you what is aroused in me,” Philippe said. “It is l’appétit. The oysters . . . We are on a quest, n’est-ce pas?”

“Oh, my goodness, yes,” Abby replied. “Let’s go this way.” She took his free hand in hers and pulled him into a short line that ended at a roped-off area where two cooks slaved away over a smoking grill. When it was finally their turn for oysters, the apologetic expression on the cooks’ faces said what their words affirmed. “We just ran out.”





Wine Country Grilled Oysters with Garlic Butter





Ingredients: 1 stick unsalted butter

2 teaspoons finely minced garlic

12 fresh oysters on the half shell

1 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

2 teaspoons finely minced fresh parsley



Directions:



Heat a barbecue grill.

Meanwhile, place the butter in a small saucepan and bring it to a simmer (but not to a roiling boil) over medium-low heat. Clarify it by spooning off any foam that forms, and then reduce the heat to low. Add the garlic and cook for 2 minutes, stirring frequently. Remove the garlic butter from the heat and set aside.

Arrange the oysters in their half shells on a large plate. Sprinkle some Parmesan cheese and parsley on each oyster. Transfer the oysters to the prepared barbecue grill and cook for 3 to 5 minutes, or until the cheese darkens.

Drizzle the oysters with the reserved garlic butter and cook for another minute. Remove the cooked oysters from the grill to a clean plate. Add more Parmesan cheese if desired and serve at once.





Serves 3 to 4





Chapter 11


Use a dab of raw honey or bee propolis (the resinous material bees collect and use to seal their hives) to treat a peck wound on a chicken, since honey and propolis have antiseptic, antibacterial properties.

—Henny Penny Farmette Almanac