A Cookbook Conspiracy (36 page)

I glanced at Kevin, who stared wide-eyed and disbelieving at Raoul. Did she realize
she was the person who had interrupted his search? Would she have been his next victim?
I’d shuddered at the thought and Derek had wrapped his arm more tightly around me.

The police showed up within minutes of Raoul’s confession.

Shortly after Raoul and Colette were taken away, we got word that Peter had come out
of his coma. It was the happiest news we could have received after Raoul’s devastating
confession.

Everyone rushed to the hospital room where Peter lay sleeping. His skin was pale and
he wore a massive bandage around his head. He looked beaten up. The doctors were keeping
him overnight for observation.

He awoke finally and was pleased to see us gathered around him. He confessed that
he had indeed found Colette’s locket clasped in Montgomery’s cold, dead hand. All
he could think when he saw it was that it was pretty and shiny, so he grabbed it.

“I—I have a bit of a problem with taking things,” he said weakly. “It happens when
I’m upset. And seeing Monty that way, well, it upset me, to say the least.”

“To say the least,” Kevin echoed.

“Did you take the cookbook, too?” I asked, changing the subject.

He gave me a pained look. “Yes, I took it that first night. I knew the instant Baxter
opened Savannah’s gift that he’d been the one to steal it from the museum. So later
that night, while everyone was drinking at the bar, I snuck back to his office and
grabbed it and hid it in my knapsack.”

“Good,” Kevin said bluntly. “Among his many crimes, he was also a thief and a liar.”

“Yes,” Peter said. “I’m glad I took the book. However, I’m not proud of stealing the
locket. To tell the truth, I didn’t even connect the locket to the killer. I just
saw something shiny and took it.”

“Everyone here knows about the kleptomania,” Kevin said. “I told them already.”

“You told them?” he said, trying for as much outrage as he could manage, given that
his head was wrapped in a bandage and he looked like he might pass out at any moment.
“How could you?”

“I thought you were dead!” she cried. “We were trying to figure out who might’ve hurt
you.”

He reached out and took her hand in his. She sat down on the bed and squeezed his
hand with both of hers.

“All right,” he said with a wan smile. “You’re forgiven.”

“I told them about the dodgy fish, too.”

His eyes widened and he gazed around the room before he stared back at Kevin. “It
seems you’ve given away all my secrets. Anything else you want to tell me?”

“Well, at least no one can ever blackmail you again,” she said, and burst into tears.

Peter pulled her close and held her. I had great hopes that the two of them would
be back together soon. They were meant to be a couple.

I blinked away my own tears, relieved that at least one thing had ended happily last
night. I finished brushing my hair and added a touch of lipstick. Then I slipped on
jeans and a turtleneck and wandered out to the kitchen.

There on the bar was the book box I’d created for Baxter. Last night when we got home,
Derek had searched the book for Raoul’s lab results, but didn’t find them until he
opened the box itself and found the suede pouch. Inside was the folded sheet of paper
Raoul
had killed for. Derek planned to deliver it to the police sometime today.

Dalton would be leaving shortly to go back to London. Late last night, he had run
out to an all-night copy service to make another copy of the cookbook pages; he planned
to continue deciphering it once he was back home.

While Obedience Green’s cookbook had turned out not to be the inspiration for a major
breakthrough in the field of cryptography and spying, it was exciting and significant
enough to warrant more study. Dalton intended to contact the Gipping-on-Plym museum
to arrange a study schedule as soon as they received the cookbook from Kevin.

I heard the muted voices before I’d even reached the coffeemaker.

“You’re really leaving me,” Savannah said. “I don’t know why I thought you might stay.
Silly, I guess.”

Oh, dear
, I thought.
Poor Savannah
. Was I going to be crying again soon? It was so early in the day. I peeked around
the wall to see if it was safe to walk in.

“I’ll always be here,” Dalton said, and pressed his hand against her heart. “And here,”
he added with a grin, smoothing his hand across her bald head. “I’ll be back as soon
as I can get away.”

“You will,” she said, tugging his shirt until he was pressed up against her, “or I’ll
hunt you down like a bloodhound.”

“How did you know that’s my favorite dog?”

She laughed and touched his cheek.

“Come here,” he muttered, and wrapped her in his arms and kissed her slowly on the
lips. It was a while before he let her go. Then he turned and almost ran into me.

“Oops,” I said, pretending I’d just walked in. “Sorry. Just me, looking for a cup
of coffee. Hey, you’re not leaving, are you?”

“Yes, he’s leaving,” Savannah said calmly, though her arms were crossed tightly in
front of her. “Get out of his way, Brooklyn.”

He took one look at me and said, “Perhaps I can squeeze in one more cup of coffee.”

I heard a noise and turned. Derek stood watching me from the hallway door. I knew
what he was thinking—that I was going to take Dalton’s departure worse than Savannah
would. He was right. At least Savannah had prepared herself for Dalton to go. I hadn’t.

I didn’t know who to go to first, but Dalton was closer, so I walked straight into
his arms. He hugged me tightly and said, “I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.”

“Are you sure you have to leave us?” I whispered foolishly.

“The man has a job and a life elsewhere,” Savannah said, her tone crisp and practical.

I wanted to tell her that Derek had had all that, too. And yet he’d left his home
and traveled thousands of miles to be with me. But that would’ve hurt her, and really,
who knew how Dalton truly felt about my sister? He seemed to like her a lot, but they
hadn’t had enough time to really get to know each other. Perhaps they would meet again
sometime soon. I hoped so.

I felt Savannah’s hand on my back. It was meant to comfort me, and didn’t that just
say it all? As predicted, I wasn’t handling Dalton’s departure half as well as Savannah
was. And she wasn’t just losing Dalton. I thought of the close friends she’d lost
over the past few weeks and wondered how she could be so strong.

Time to activate that stiff upper lip
, I thought, and eased away from Dalton. Giving his arm a light punch, I smiled brightly.
“Well, that’s it, then. Don’t be a stranger. Travel safe. Off you go now.”

“Jeez, Brooklyn, easy on the clichés.” Savannah rolled her eyes at me. “You forgot
to tell him not to let the door hit his ass on the way out.”

“Did I?”

Dalton laughed. “I won’t.” He turned to Derek and gave a quick nod. “Do you have it?”

“Yes, right here.” Derek disappeared from the doorway, but emerged a few seconds later
carrying a cardboard box. He crossed the room and handed it to me. “We thought this
might ease the pain of Dalton’s departure.”

Mystified, I stared into the box—and gasped. “It’s a…Oh.” Wrapped up in an old towel
was a tiny white kitten.

I set the box on the bar and reached for the little creature.

“What is it?” Savannah said. Then, “Oh, it’s a kitty.”

I cupped it in my hands and examined it. Its fur was long and silky and it was snowy
white from head to toes. I held it to my chest and rubbed my chin along its fragile
backbone. Its fur tickled my skin and its mews sounded like the tinkling of a delicate
glass bell.

“How did you…when did you…”

Derek smiled self-consciously. “I’d mentioned to Dalton a few nights ago that I wanted
to try and get one of Bootsie’s kittens for you.”

“So we drove over there at the crack of flipping dawn this morning to find the cat,”
Dalton said. “Wasn’t easy. She’d managed to squeeze herself into the tightest crawl
space in that alleyway.”

“How did you find her?” Savannah asked as she ran her finger around the kitten’s tiny
ears.

“We heard the mewing,” Derek said. “Ten kittens and one big cat make a lot of noise.”

“Ten. But…you just took this one away? Will it be okay?”

“We ran into Bootsie’s owner as she was emptying her trash,” Derek explained as he
moved closer to pet the kitten. “Her name is Eileen and it’s fine with her if we keep
this little one. But she did suggest that after you’ve had this visit with the kitten,
we bring it back to stay with the mother for a few more weeks.”

“That’s a good idea.” Although I hated to let her go. I was already in love with her.
The kitten caught a strand of my hair in its eensy claw and became entangled instantly.
I laughed softly. “You ding-a-ling.”

Savannah said, “Awww.”

I looked up at Derek. “Thank you. I love her. It’s the sweetest thing you ever could’ve
given me.” And then I burst into tears.

Savannah sniffled, too. Naturally.

Dalton elbowed Derek. “Time to go.”

Derek laughed and grabbed me in a warm hug. I watched him stroke the kitten’s soft
fur, and then he took it from me and placed it back in its box. “I’ll return the cat
to Eileen on the way back from the airport. I’ve got her number, so we’ll keep tabs
on the little one’s progress and have her back in a few weeks.”

I nodded, unable to speak.

Dalton grabbed his duffel bag, and Savannah and I walked them both to the front door.
Dalton and my sister shared one more passionate embrace and then he hugged me once
more. Derek kissed me again, and the Stone brothers walked off, leaving my sister
and me standing in the hall, waving until the elevator doors closed on them.

Savannah stared at those doors for a full minute, then blinked a few times and snapped
out of it. “Well. That was fun, but now I’m famished. I’m going to make a pizza from
scratch.”

I perked up. “Can you teach me how to do it?”

“I’m a chef, Brooklyn. Not a miracle worker.”

I wrapped my arm around her and the two of us walked back into my place to drown our
sorrows in pizza for breakfast.

Brooklyn’s Syllabub—The Modern Version

Makes 4 servings

This quintessential English dessert appeals to Brooklyn because of its quirky name
and the fact that it’s so simple to make and requires no baking. (The alcohol content
has absolutely nothing to do with its appeal!) This modern version of a syllabub calls
for a sweet liqueur. Brooklyn decided to use a coffee-flavored liqueur, but it can
be made with almond or orange liqueur, sweet vermouth, white wine, or even cognac.
Portions and garnishes can be adjusted to suit your own taste.

Pour the liqueur into a bowl with the sugar and whisk to mix. Whisk in the heavy cream
and whip this mixture until it has thickened but is still soft and billowy (less than
five minutes with a hand mixer).

Crumble one cookie into each of four small dessert bowls. Spoon the syllabub mixture
over the crumbled cookies. Sprinkle remaining crumbles on top and garnish with a chocolate-covered
espresso bean.

Refrigerate for one to two hours before serving.

Two Vintage Syllabub Recipes
from The Cookbook of Obedience Green