Murder at the Big T Lodge: A Liz Lucas Cozy Mystery (6 page)

When Liz and Sam returned to the
lodge, it was early afternoon. She remembered Jack had said in his welcoming
speech the night before that the chef always made extra lunches for the guests
who chose not to hunt that day. While the lunches for the hunters were quite
elaborate and served on portable dining tables set up in the fields near the
lake, the lunches kept in the refrigerator at the lodge were also supposed to
be quite good. Even though the morning had been emotionally draining for Liz,
she realized she was hungry. She knocked on the kitchen door, and a moment
later she heard the chef’s voice say, “Come in.” Sam laid down in front of the
door, as Liz walked into the kitchen.

“Mrs. Langley, how was
your visit to the fair city of Riley?” Chef Jackson asked.

“Not much to see. I
FedEx’ed what I needed to send, and then I decided there wasn’t much to see or
buy in Riley, so I drove back here to the lodge. I may live in a small town,
but I’ve definitely been to other cities that had a lot more action,” she said,
laughing.

“Think what it’s like for
me,” Chef Jackson said, wiping his hands on a dish towel. “I studied at the
Cordon Bleu in Paris and then came back to the United States and worked in
several very fine restaurants. The life I’m leading now is as different from
those lives as night and day.”

“I must admit I’ve been
curious about why you’re working in such a remote place as this,” Liz said, as
she sat down on a stool at the large kitchen counter.

“I have a long-standing
dream of owning my own restaurant. I worked my way up to sous chef at two
Michelin restaurants, and some day I’d like to see if I could own a restaurant
worthy of a Michelin star. I don’t come from a wealthy family. I grew up in
Minnesota and consider myself very fortunate to have been able to study in
Paris. I met Jack Mercer when I was the sous chef at a very fine restaurant in
San Francisco. Jack enjoyed the food so much he asked the manager if he could
meet me. We met and talked for a while. I had to get back to work, so he asked
if I could meet him when I was finished with work that night. I did, and he
offered me the chef’s job here at the lodge. He said he had a chef that was
very good, but he had a vision of creating a five-star dining experience for
his guests.

“He told me he wanted me
to create signature dishes that were unlike any other hunting lodge, but still
within the parameters of preparing different types of wild game. He pays me a
fortune to cook for the hunt guests, and I, in turn, try to come up with unique
meals that will be remembered by his guests. I think I’ve succeeded to some
point, because I’ve been cooking here for several years, and almost all of the
guests that are here now are returning guests. Some of them have told me they
come back just for my cooking. I don’t believe that, but it’s nice to hear.”

“I’d like to hear more
about the guests,” Liz said. “Jack mentioned there were always some lunch meals
in the refrigerator, and I think I’d like to have lunch now. Is this a bad time
for me to be here? Would you rather I take my lunch and eat it elsewhere?”

“No. Actually, this is a
good time, and I need a break. I’ll join you if you don’t mind. It’s rare
anyone ever comes to my kitchen to eat lunch. The guests feel if they’ve paid a
huge amount of money to come here, they definitely should be out hunting, not
talking to the chef in the kitchen. Let me get our lunches, and if you’ll allow
me, I’ll pour you a glass of wine to go with lunch. When I lived in Paris I
learned how much better food is with a glass of wine.” He returned a few
moments later with two plates of food and two glasses of wine.

“This looks interesting.
What is it?”

“Well, since this is
cattle country, we prepare a lot of dishes that have some form of beef in them.
I’ve prepared a salad with bits of meat in it, but first I made something I’ve
never seen in the United States. It’s an appetizer made with elk meat that has
been slow-cooked with a sherry-maple glaze. I made the bread this morning, and
the wine is a carmenere from Chile. I know American wines are very good, but I
think this particular wine sets off the meat perfectly. After all, South
America is known for its barbecued meats, and they often drink carmenere wine
with them. I didn’t think I could improve on the wine selection by serving an
American wine.”

Liz took a cube of the elk
meat appetizer, cut it, and ate it. A moment later she said, “I’ve never had
anything quite like this. It’s wonderful, and yes, to my unsophisticated palate
this wine is the perfect accompaniment. Unfortunately, we don’t have elk where
I live, so I don’t think this particular dish will be something I could use at
my lodge and spa.”

“Ahh, that’s a pity. It
really is such a delicacy your spa guests shouldn’t be deprived of it.”

“I agree, but I’d like to
change the subject. I really would like to hear about the guests who are
staying here at the lodge. I'm fascinated that there are so many returning
guests.”

“Well, as I said, some
tell me they return for my food. Many return for the hunts, and I think one or
two others return for reasons that have nothing to do with hunting.”

Liz looked up from her
plate. The little niggle she got from time to time seemed to be telling her
that the following conversation might prove very useful in discovering if there
was more to Milt's death than simply not waking up after going to sleep.

Liz took another bite of the elk meat
and had a sip of her wine. She put down her fork and said, “You mentioned there
were a couple of guests who might be returning for things other than your food
and the hunts. Why do you think they return, if I might ask?”

“You know, I haven’t had
an opportunity to sit down and talk like this since I don’t know when. As a
matter of fact, I don’t think I ever have since I’ve been here at the lodge.
Like I said earlier, almost all of the guests hunt. Actually, you’re the first
one who doesn’t. I’m sure some of the wives would prefer not to, but they
usually hunt to please their husbands and justify the cost of the lodge. Once
in a while someone gets sick, but they usually stay in their room, and we take
tea and toast up to them or one of the lunches I keep here. Anyway, I probably
spoke out of turn, particularly now that Milt Huston is dead. Jack mentioned
you were going to help with the mortuary and call his wife,” Chef Jackson said.
“It really is none of my business, and I don’t think Jack would like me telling
tales or passing on idle gossip.”

“It may be none of your
business, but I find it odd that a man in good health, and from what I hear, is
an avid health addict, dies in his sleep when he’s only in his early fifties. I
mean sure, it could happen, but I wonder if there’s more to it than that,” Liz
said. “I’m not satisfied in my own mind that Milt died of natural causes. Don’t
get me wrong, he very well may have, but on the off chance he didn’t, I’d
appreciate it if you would tell me whatever you know.”

“He certainly was a health
addict,” the chef said. “He was a vegan, which meant he wouldn’t eat any animal
products. I always made three special meals for him each day. We even kept the
beet juice he made each morning in special bottles in the refrigerator, so he
could have a bottle during the cocktail hour and another one when he went to
bed. He said it really gave him a lot of energy. I tried it once and
practically gagged. I thought it was horrible. Anyway, as much as I like to
cook and eat, I could never be a vegan.”

“That makes two of us. I
consider eating one of the best things about being alive,” Liz said laughing.

“I’d like to ask you a
question if you don’t mind,” Chef Jackson said. “Why are you getting involved
in this? It seems like you’ve done what you needed to do, that is, staying here
and waiting for Mr. Gordon to take Milt’s body to the mortuary as well as
notifying his wife. Beyond that, I don’t quite understand what it is you want.”

“Nor do I,” Liz said.
“It’s kind of strange and certainly nothing I ever set out to do, but in the
last couple of years I’ve helped solve several murders, all of which involved
me, my spa, or people I cared about. While it’s true I know very little about
Milt Huston, my husband went to law school with him and thought he was a very
good man. I understand he was quite liberal and had even called a press
conference for next week announcing he was going to be a candidate for the
office of governor of California.”

Liz took a deep breath and
continued, “I know this may sound silly, but from the time I was a little girl
I had this thing I’ve learned to call a niggle, for lack of a better word. It’s
like a little voice in my head that talks to me. It’s helped me all my life
with things like crossing to the other side of the street before a car jumps
the curb, or making sure my car door’s locked. In the murder cases I’ve
recently been involved in, each time the niggle has demanded my attention, and
I’ve learned to listen to it. It’s been very active this morning. That’s why
I’d like to hear whatever you can tell me about Milt and the other guests.”

Chef Jackson put his fork
down and appeared to be deep in thought. Finally, he spoke. “The last two times
Milt was here I’m certain he was having an affair with Amanda DeLuise. Her
husband, Emilio, likes his drinks and really likes his brandy after the hunt
and dinner. He usually stumbles off to bed quite early, and Amanda stays down
here and talks to the other guests. Several times I noticed that after Milt
left, very soon thereafter she would say good night to everyone and likewise
leave. I think what I observed in the past is true based on what I heard last
night.”

“And what would that be?”
Liz asked.

“After dinner I heard
angry voices just outside the kitchen. They were coming from the porch. I’m
sure I heard Amanda saying ‘So you couldn’t wait any longer, is that it? I told
you I was going to divorce him and then we could get married, but instead you
wanted the perfect wife for your campaign, right? You didn’t want to have to
deal with the issue that you and a divorcee were planning on getting married.’ 
A man’s voice who I’m certain was Milt’s answered her, ‘You got that right. I
finally came to realize that the only thing you care about is money, and you
knew I’d never have the kind of money Emilio has. I hope you’re happy with him.
I’m just glad he never found out you were having an affair with me.’

“Amanda answered him and
said, ‘You don't know that for sure. He very well just might know about it and
may want to take revenge against you. Italian men are not known for taking
cuckoldry lightly. Anyway, now that you’re a married man, it’s over. It's one
thing for me to have an affair with a single man, but quite another to have one
with a married man.’

“The man, who I believe
was Milt, answered her with a line I’ll never forget. He said, ‘Taking a lot
for granted, aren’t you Amanda? I don’t recall ever suggesting we resume our
affair now that I’m married, and for the record, now that I’m married, our affair
is officially over.’”

“Was that the last thing
you overheard?” Liz asked.

“No. I heard Amanda say in
a low and very angry voice, ‘Merde,’ and then it became very quiet. I’m not
exactly sure what the word means, but I don’t think it’s a warm fuzzy word.
Anyway, that was the end of their conversation, and they both left the porch.
It’s none of my business, but it seems to me Amanda might want Milt murdered,
because she was so angry and then again, maybe her husband knew about their
affair, and only pretended to be drunk. Maybe he wanted to exact revenge on
Milt. I don’t know. I’m just telling you what I heard.”

“Wow! Does Amanda hunt?”

“Amanda does whatever her
husband, Emilio, tells her to do. It’s a business arrangement, you see. He gets
a young attractive wife, and she gets all the money she wants. They came all
the way from Italy for this hunt. Evidently he owns a large prestigious winery
over there, and his family is very well-respected. His wine is excellent, and
he always brings several cases of it when he comes to the lodge. He owns a
large private jet, and his pilot flies them here in it. Jack has a private
airstrip for guests who have their own planes, and you’d be amazed at how many
do.” He looked at his watch and said, “I’m sorry. I had no idea it was getting
so late. I must begin to prepare things for dinner.”

“Chef Jackson, thank you
so much for your time and the information. You’ve given me a lot to think
about.” Liz stood up and looked around. “There are twenty guests staying here
at the lodge, and I imagine all of them will be hungry after today’s shoot. I
don’t see anyone else here in the kitchen. Surely you don’t do all the
preparations yourself?”

“No. You met my assistant,
Cassie, earlier. She spends several hours each day at church. She is a born
again Christian and is quite religious. She told me once that religion had
saved her life. I don't know what she meant by that, and she’s never told me,
but I do know she’s about the most conservative person I’ve ever met.

“Cassie also doesn’t
approve of the wine Emilio brings with him. I think she believes the devil
resides here at the lodge because of all the excessive drinking and all the
fine food that is served. I don’t think she’d be working here if there were any
other jobs available in the area. I can’t remember whether she’s divorced or a
widow, but she has to work to support herself. In this part of Texas jobs are
pretty hard to come by, and she knows a number of other people would like to
have her job, so she continues to work here even though she doesn’t like or
approve of what goes on here at the lodge.”

“One last thing,” Liz
said. “If she’s that conservative, did she ever say anything about Milt? He's
certainly got a reputation for being very liberal.”

“Yes, he’s been here several
times, and she ranted and raved to me about how she was very much opposed to
his position on abortion and his stand on keeping the Planned Parenthood
Centers open. For weeks that was all she talked about. She even made the
comment that someday Milt would surely have to pay for the evil he was
promoting.” Chef Jackson paused and looked at her. “Do you find that
significant?”

“Quite frankly, I don’t
know what to think. At this point we don’t even know the cause of Milt’s death,
and from what Jack told me, since there were no signs of foul play, we may
never know. Again, thanks for your honesty. I’m already looking forward to
seeing what fabulous things we’ll be having for dinner tonight.” She put her
hand on his arm. “If I do find out anything, I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks, and if someone
here at the lodge was involved in Milt’s death, maybe it’s the sign I need that
I have enough money to take a chance on my dream and open up my own restaurant.
We’ll see. Talk to you later.”