Murder at the Cooking School: Book 7 of the Cedar Bay Cozy Mystery Series (3 page)

Giovanni pulled out from
under the hotel portico and then allowed Tonia to get ahead of him. Even though
they were both going back to the village, he wanted nothing more to do with
her. Several hours with her were as much as he could bear.

He looked in
the rear view mirror to see how much traffic was behind him and was greeted
with his own image. Giovanni had to smile, acknowledging to himself he still
had the good looks that had opened doors for him throughout his life. His jet
black hair was beginning to gray at the temples, accentuating his piercing deep
blue eyes. His muscular body and mahogany complexion had always made him
irresistible to the opposite sex. It was also what made him irresistible to
Tonia.

I don’t
know how much longer I can keep this charade up,
he thought.
The woman absolutely
nauseates me, and the act I put on when I make love to her and tell her how
much I love her would qualify me for what the Americans call an Academy Award.
She’s ugly as sin, and there’s nothing warm about her. If she doesn’t deed the
castle over to me in the next few weeks, I’m going to forget about the whole
thing. It’s not worth the price I’m having to pay.

He remembered
when he first came up with the idea to seduce Tonia in order to get the deed to
the castle. He was at a dinner party one evening and happened to be seated next
to her. It was about the time he was becoming more and more desperate. He knew
he had to do something to get money. He’d embezzled funds from a client for the
first time in his career and knew with certainty it wouldn’t be the last.

It was a
typical spring evening in Tuscany, warm and inviting. Softly glowing candles
were on each table and twinkling lights hung from the patio cover, making the
evening magical. The wine flowed, and the scent of freesia flowers filled the
air. It reminded him of his first kiss so many years ago. It was a night made
for romance. Even though he’d known Tonia most of his life, he’d never before
sensed how lonely she was for a man’s attention, and that evening he’d given
her plenty of attention. The candlelight, the wine, and the intoxicating
freesia scent made her seem almost pretty. She’d recently converted the castle
into a hotel with a cooking school, and she mentioned how profitable it was
becoming. She told him she kept the financial books for the castle, and
although she owed back taxes on it, soon she’d have enough money to pay the
taxes and it would no longer be a problem. While she was talking, a plan began
to form in Giovanni’s mind.

She was like a
puppy who wanted to be held and petted. Seducing her a few weeks later had been
the easiest thing he’d ever done in his life and provided a way out of the hole
he’d dug himself into. After they’d met a few times and become lovers, he
casually approached her with his scheme. He’d told her how he wanted to make
sure she was taken care of and how he worried about her. He said they both knew
they probably could never be together as a couple because they were both
married and strong Catholics, as were their spouses. He’d suggested she deed
the castle over to him, but had done it in an offhand manner, as if it was a
joke. In the weeks and months that followed, the joke had become a serious
topic of discussion between them.

At first she
had been adamant she would never do anything like that. She told him there was
no reason for her to do it, but the more he wore her down with his talk of love
and how deeply he cared for her, her resistance began to crumble. He knew he
was very close to getting her to do it.

He thought
about why he was doing it. The funds he’d embezzled from clients over the past
year had gone to pay for a lot of things his wife, Angelica, took for granted.
She thought he made a lot of money, but if the truth were known, every month
was a struggle to try and pay the bills. He knew that Angelica had a large
trust fund, but even as amoral as he’d become, taking his wife’s money to pay
for his mistress’ apartment was something he couldn’t stoop to do.

Giovanni had
rented the apartment last year for Maria. Just the thought of Maria caused
warmth to spread through certain parts of his body. He hadn’t meant to fall in
love with someone twenty years younger, but when her father had come to his
office one afternoon for a consultation and brought his beautiful blond
daughter with the bedroom eyes with him, Giovanni knew he had to see her again.
No woman he had been with had ever come close to awakening the passion he felt
when he was with Maria.

There is
nothing I wouldn’t do for her. I have to get the castle, so if anyone ever
finds out about the embezzlements, and if the legal examiners disbar me, I
could sell the castle and take care of her. Maria and I both know I won’t marry
her. I can’t, but I have promised her that I want her to be my mistress for the
rest of my life, and in order to keep my promise, I need the castle.

If Tonia
deeds the castle over to me, she’ll no longer be of use to me. I know I’ve
broken the oath I took when I became a lawyer by embezzling money from a
client, and I’ve certainly broken marital and moral laws by having so many
affairs. Even so, I’ve never been responsible for causing someone’s death, but
it’s the only answer to my problems. I don’t think I have a choice anymore. I
know that when I get the castle and sell it, Tonia will claim I got it from her
illegally or some such thing, which will create all kinds of problems and might
even cause me to lose the castle to her. If she’s not around, it will be much
easier.

So Tonia,
enjoy each day, because the day you deed the castle over to me will be one of
your last days.

“Mike, wake up,” Kelly said as she
gently shook his shoulder. “It’s time to go down to the library and sample what
I’m sure will be some delicious local wines. I’m going to shower. I’ll be
finished in just a few minutes, and then the shower is all yours. There’s a
really good mirror here in the room I can use while you’re showering.”

“Kelly, I feel so much
better. Thanks for letting me take a quick nap. What did you do while I was
lights out?”

“Sat in the chair and
looked out the window. I can’t get over the beauty of Tuscany. It’s like a
magical land and these accommodations, they’re spectacular. I’ve never stayed
in a castle. Matter of fact I’ve never been outside the United States. Anyway,
I watched while someone lit small decorative lanterns in the vineyards and the
olive groves. It’s an absolutely beautiful nighttime scene.”

Showered and refreshed,
they made their way downstairs. Following the sound of voices, they entered the
library where wine was being served by
Signora
Nardo and a man they
assumed was her husband,
Signor
Nardo. He was as round and genial as his
wife was ramrod thin and rigid looking.

What a strange couple
, Kelly thought.
Signor
Nardo must be six inches shorter than she is and outweigh her by a hundred pounds.
From the broken capillaries on his cheeks and nose, it looks like he thoroughly
enjoys drinking the wines he produces in his vineyard.

Signor
Nardo
walked over
to them, introduced himself, and shook their hands while an ear-to-ear smile
lit up his florid face. He had a large, droopy mustache and a mane of unruly
prematurely white hair.

“Please,” he said, “let me
get you some wine. We’re very proud of the wines we grow and serve in the area.
Would you prefer red or white? Personally, I think they’re all good, but I’ve
learned people usually have a preference.”

The red and white wines of
the Tuscany region were known throughout the world by wine connoisseurs. Kelly
and Mike couldn’t believe the array on the sideboard in front of them. Reds
that bore the names of Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, Brunello di Mantalcano,
and Chianti Classico along with whites such as Cortona Sauvignon Blanc and
Vernaccia di San Gimignano were all being freely poured. It was a wine
connoisseur’s paradise, but unfortunately neither Kelly nor Mike was a wine
connoisseur.

“I prefer a red,” Kelly
said. “What do you recommend?”

“You must try the
Brunello. I’m told it’s one of the best. Try a sip and tell me what you think.”

Kelly swirled the wine in
her glass and tried to look like she knew what she was doing. After a moment
she took a small sip. “Whoever told you that is absolutely right. It’s
wonderful. I’d like to try some of the others, but I think I’ve already found
my favorite. Thank you.”

Signor
Nardo turned to Mike.
“What can I get for you?”

“I’d like to try a white,
whatever you think is good, although if you have them here, I imagine they’re
all good.”

“I like all of them, but
why don’t you try the Vernaccia? Friends of mine make it, and it’s one of my
favorites.”

Mike took a sip. “That’s
simply wonderful. Thank you.”

“Bring your glasses and
I’ll introduce you to the other guests who will be in your cooking class.”
Introductions were made, wine loosened tongues, and after some small talk, the
group of ten made their way into the dining room.

Dinner was just as
fabulous as the wine that had preceded it. Kelly and Mike loved Italian food,
but they both knew chefs often felt they couldn’t leave well enough alone,
adding their own touches and losing the essence of the dish. Not so at
Castello
di Nardo
. The entreé was a simple loin of pork that had been slow cooked in
milk with fresh vegetables and prepared in the classic Italian tradition. It
was peasant food at its best, enhanced by freshly baked parmesan and olive oil
bread that was called
pane con olio e parmigiana
, and a salad that
tasted as if it had been brought in directly from the garden. The meal ended
with a selection of fresh fruit.

Mike was seated next to
Signora
Nardo. “I don’t think I’ve ever tasted food that was this fresh. What’s your
secret?”

“What we don’t grow on our
own property, we get at local farmers’ markets. Luisa, the cooking school chef,
will take you into Florence to the
Mercato Centrale
in the heart of
Florence. It’s open every day, and it has the best of everything. There are a
number of others in small towns around here we go to when we don’t have time to
go to Florence.

“We have chickens here and
also raise most of our own meat. I think you’ll enjoy breakfast tomorrow
morning. The fresh eggs, local bacon, and fruit are usually a hit with our guests.
Our resident cook comes in early to bake muffins and some other breakfast
items. It’s too dark now, but in the morning you will be able to see the
orchards, our large vegetable gardens, and at this time of year, probably some
pheasants. If you enjoy eating, you’ll not do any better in Italy than here at
Castello
di Nardo.
If you’ll excuse me, I need to introduce Chef Luisa so she can
tell you about the cooking school
.”

Signora
Nardo stood up and
lightly touched her water glass with her knife several times to get everyone’s
attention. When they were quiet she said, “It is my pleasure to introduce Chef
Luisa Bianchi to you. She has been teaching here at the
Castello di Nardo
since we opened the cooking school. Her background in cooking is impeccable.
She had a restaurant in Florence for many years that was given three stars by
Michelin and then decided she’d prefer to teach cooking. She travels throughout
Italy teaching at cooking schools in various places. We feel very fortunate
that she comes to
Castello di Nardo
four times a year to teach. We have
many more applicants than we have space for, so consider yourselves very lucky
to have been accepted. Here is your teacher for the next week,
Capucuoco
Luisa Bianchi.”

The students applauded as
a short, round grey-haired woman who looked exactly like what one would think
an Italian grandmother, a
nonna,
would look like, entered the room and
smiled broadly. When she smiled, her round face squinched up making it hard to
see her eyes. She wore a white apron with the words “Castello di Nardo”
embroidered in red on it. She brushed a stray hair back into her severe bun
with fingers whose nails were short and free of nail polish and began to speak.

“Welcome, my new students.
In Italian the word for chef is
capucuoco,
but I prefer to use the word
chef. It is so much easier to pronounce. My English is good, but not perfect,
so if I make a mistake, please forgive me. For the next three days a
continental breakfast and coffee will be served in the dining room each morning
from seven to nine. Class will start at ten. At that time we will begin cooking
for lunch and dinner. We will eat lunch on the patio at 12:00. After that you
will be free until 4:00 in the afternoon. From 4:00 to 6:00 we will prepare the
rest of the evening meal. Wine will be served in the library at 6:30 followed
by dinner in the dining room. I have two assistants to help me, but I do
request that each of you volunteer to be a server for at least one meal. You
will be given recipes for everything we prepare.

“The highlight of the day
trips will be Wednesday when we will go to Florence to the
Mercato Centrale
.
It is one of the most incredible markets in the world, and it is usually a high
point for the students. On Tuesday we will go to an olive grove and see how
olive oil is processed. If you prefer, you may stay here at the castle
and
swim in the pool or simply relax. It is your time to do what you want, and
there will be no pressure to participate in these afternoon side trips. The
only thing I do ask, as I said earlier, is that each of you helps serve one
meal. I think that’s everything. You will be given a kitchen apron tomorrow
morning with your name on it. I would ask that you not wear rings while you’re
preparing food as we often use our hands in the preparation of the food. I will
make sure all of your hands are very clean by having one of my assistants watch
while you wash your hands,” she said laughing. “See you at ten tomorrow
morning.”

When she was finished,
Mike stood up and said to
Signora
Nardo, “Thank you for an enjoyable
evening. This has been a wonderful beginning for our stay in Italy.” He turned
to Kelly and said, “We need to get some sleep before the big day.” They walked
around the table and said good night to the other guests and to
Signor
Nardo.

When they were back in
their room with the door closed, Kelly turned to Mike and said, “Did you get a
chance to find out what the other people do for a living, like own fancy
restaurants or what ?”

“Oh, Kelly, this is one of
the things I love about you. You’re worried that someone will be a better cook
than you, aren’t you? That’s adorable. Trust me; you will be the best student
in the class. I’ll go with you to class tomorrow, but after that I may explore
the countryside or walk the grounds or do nothing but lie in bed and read a
book. You know I’m not much of a cook, and I have no intention of becoming one.
I’m just happy to be in Italy with you in this remarkably beautiful place.”

With a slight sound of
trepidation in her voice, Kelly said, “I hope you’re right. I have to admit I’m
a little nervous. What if someone asks me what I do, and I tell them I own a
coffee shop, and then I can’t cook as well as anyone. I’ve never done anything
like this.”

“Trust me, sweetheart,
you’ll be fine. I love you,” he said, lightly kissing her and turning off the
light on the nightstand. “Sleep well, and we’ll try to keep jet lag at bay.”