A Beeline to Murder

“Yes. I realize how painful all this is for you, but there might be customers, friends, or acquaintances of Jean-Louis who would want to be there, you know, to honor his life, to say their final good-byes.”


“I do not know his friends. And the notice, it would be too late, n’est-ce pas?”

“Perhaps. But remember, we have his cell phone in the box of materials from the police. We can call the numbers stored in the cell phone contact list. Those phone numbers belong to people that Jean-Louis surely considered important in his life.”

“You have another reason for wanting to do this, I think.”

“Well, I suppose not to do it would be to miss an opportunity.”

“Opportunity for what?”

Abby thought about how to say it as simply as possible without sounding callous.

Philippe looked at her, his expression alert and serious.

“The burial might bring together people who knew him, customers, friends, and . . .” She stopped herself from saying the words “the killer,” quickly adding instead, “A lover.” But she did not want to begin a discourse about how a lover—jealous, controlling, or in an affair that ended badly—could be the same person as the killer.

Spotting the pastry shop on the left, Abby drove past it and made a U-turn. After parking in front, she asked Philippe to unearth the small box of supplies she kept in the car for her farmers’ market events, when a sign for something might have to be quickly drafted. Using a purple marker on white paper, she printed the details of the graveside service and invited all who had known the chef to attend.

Philippe took the marker from between her fingers, added a quick sketch of a toque blanche, and wrote his brother’s birth and death dates just below it. Satisfied that there was nothing more to say, they taped the notice to the pastry shop’s plate-glass window.

“Let’s stop by the DIY center for some boxes and head over to your brother’s apartment, grabbing sandwiches on the way,” Abby suggested in a cheerful voice once they were back in the car.

Philippe nodded and buckled up. As Abby steered the Jeep away from the pastry shop, he lamented, “My heart feels as heavy as stone. I don’t know what called Jean-Louis to this place, but I do know he loved it here.”

“Really?” Abby said, popping a mint into her mouth.

“Yes, really. He said the climate was quite like the Mediterranean. He loved the farmers’ markets, where the ingredients are the freshest—farm-fresh eggs, organic fruits and nuts, especially the almonds, and the local honey. He raved about your honey. His favorite, you know.” He touched her hand where it rested on the console. “And I’ve yet to taste it.”

Abby’s stomach tightened. Is that a couched desire expressing itself? She looked over at him, but Philippe’s attention had already turned to the spectacle outside his window. Abby recognized the bicyclist with the two dogs before and behind him on the bike seat The trio disappeared down the asphalt path leading away from Main in the direction of the park. Abby felt her temperature rising. “I’m so going to report that guy.”





Tips for Making Lavender Flower Essence



Flower essences carry a light scent, one that is not as potent as that of essential oils, but they can still be used in aromatherapy to reduce stress and restore a sense of calm. To make a flower essence, you’ll need sterilized bottles with stoppers or caps, tweezers, a glass bowl to hold the petals, sterile water, and brandy (as a preservative). Wear nitrile gloves, because touching the utensils and ingredients with your hands can potentially contaminate them.





1. Pluck one half to one cup of lavender buds, using tweezers, if necessary.

2. Put the buds petals in a glass bowl.

3. Cover the buds with sterile water.

4. Leave the lavender water in direct sunlight for three hours.

5. Fill the sterile bottles half full of brandy.

6. Strain the lavender water and pour it over the brandy to fill the bottles.

7. Insert the stoppers in the bottles or twist on the caps.

8. Label the bottles LAVENDER FLOWER ESSENCE and include the date.





Chapter 13