A Beeline to Murder

Leaning down to place his Bible next to his walking stick, the priest picked up a handful of dirt. He motioned for Philippe and Abby to do likewise. As they did, the clergyman intoned, “We have committed our beloved’s spirit to your eternal keeping, Father. We now commit his body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Merciful God, we do this with the belief and absolute hope in the resurrection to eternal life. . . .”


Abby didn’t hear the last words. The wind wasn’t just gusting. It howled now. She held her breath in hopes that the paper didn’t cast off again. As soon as she heard “Amen,” she backed away from the burial site and swiftly marched toward the bush where the paper waved still. Leaning down, Abby plucked the piece of paper from its entrapment. The paper was actually a small colored photograph of Jean-Louis and Jake Lennahan. The image showed them clowning around, both displaying unmistakably happy smiles. Jean-Louis wore his chef’s toque and double-breasted shirt. Jake wore a sandwich sign with straps over his shoulders. A multilayered, frosted cake had been painted on the sign. On the back of the photograph, in cursive, was written, Happy Birthday, Jean-Louis. My grief is unbearable. You are my heart. I never believed she would make good on her threat, but now she has taken from me everything, even my reason for living. I curse the day I married her. May she burn in hell!—J.

Abby tucked the photo in her purse, steeled herself against the gusting wind, and returned to the grave, where the priest was shaking hands with the pallbearers. The diggers had already begun filling the grave. Abby joined Philippe and the priest as they picked their way back to the stone path. Shadows had already lengthened on the mountain. Abby touched Philippe’s arm and pointed to the blazing orange ball of a sun sliding down into the now gunmetal-gray Pacific.

He dropped back a step to create space between himself and the priest. “Abby, what was on that paper?”

“Just a missing puzzle piece. For a bowl of white bean soup, I’ll tell you all about it. What do you say?” Abby asked, trying to assuage his sadness and quell the singing of her heart at their stroke of good fortune. She was certain that Jake was the distraught man who had delivered the lilies and those two roses, and that, while alone with the body, he had secretly tucked the photo inside the coffin.

“Sounds good,” Philippe replied, taking her arm to help her negotiate the stone pathway.

She stopped. “And pie at Maisey’s.”

“I would never say no to that.”

Abby grinned and grabbed him with both hands to steady herself as a wind gust tugged hard at her balance. “And maybe a drink at the Black Witch after dinner?”

He arched his brows. A quizzical look crossed his face. “Maybe even two. And stiff ones at that. Should I read something more into this?”

“It’s up to you. I’ll explain while we fill our tummies with comfort food,” said Abby.

“Bean soup is comfort food? Americans!”





White Bean Soup





Ingredients: 1 cup dried Hutterite small soup beans or other white

beans

3 medium celery stalks, diced

2 large carrots, peeled and cut into 1-inch pieces

1 large smoked ham hock

1 medium yellow onion, peeled and diced

? cup torn fresh spinach leaves

1 packet Lipton Golden Onion Recipe Soup & Dip Mix

6 cups chicken stock

2 to 3 medium bok choy leaves, torn into small pieces



Directions:



Combine the beans, celery, carrots, ham hock, onions, spinach, and Lipton mix in a Crock-Pot. Pour in the chicken stock. Cook, adding water as needed, until the beans are tender, about 5 to 6 hours. Add the bok choy during the last 5 minutes of cooking.

Serve the soup with slices of warm homemade bread, a chunk of Manchego (or another sharp cheese), and a crisp, chilled salad.





Option: You can make this dish vegetarian by omitting the ham hock and using vegetable stock in place of chicken broth.





Serves 4





Chapter 15


Pacific oysters can engage in annual sex reversals—male one year, female the next—one of nature’s many surprises.