Macchiatos, Macarons, and Malice Read online

  “You’re a professional.”

  “I mean the professional bakers.”

  “You’re a professional baker. You bake for the café every day.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  Matt smiled at me with a soft look in his eyes. “I do, but I don’t like seeing you sell yourself short. You can do anything you set your mind to. Even solving crimes. I know. I’ve seen you do it.” He pulled me into his arms and kissed me on the top of my head then on my temple then my cheek then my lips—

  I pulled away, smiling at him. “We should finish looking around.”

  “Hmm, if you say so.” His eyes twinkled mischievously. “Or we could duck behind those clothing racks over there.”

  I laughed and swatted at him with my cookbook. “Let’s not. We just got here, and I don’t want to get kicked out.”

  Matt chuckled, but let it drop.

  When we finished looking around, we made our way up to the register.

  The woman behind the counter smiled and greeted us. “Oh, you got very lucky,” she said when she saw the book. “You snagged our last copy!”

  “Oh really?” I was glad I’d decided to go ahead and get it instead of waiting until the end of the visit.

  She nodded. “It was a very limited printing.” She leaned toward us with a conspiratorial smile. “I don’t think Jacques wanted too many people getting his secrets!”

  “Then why did he publish a book at all?”

  Her eyes lit up. “For the publicity! For the mystique! According to him, having a rare cookbook is better than having no cookbook at all, even if it means that some of his secrets get out.”

  I knew from experience that a good recipe only went so far. You had to know how to execute it too. Especially with something as complex as macarons. “I doubt anyone could replicate his macarons even if they had the recipes.”

  “You’re right about that.” She pulled out a piece of tissue paper and started wrapping the book up. “Are you two just arriving or just leaving?”

  “We just got here.”

  She patted the tissue-wrapped book. “You should get him to sign this before you go. He’s almost always in the back there. Works too much, if you ask me, but he doesn’t. Just ask Sophie to call him out for you.”

  I glanced over at the bakery. The counter was still empty. “Are they closed right now? The door was open, but there was no one in there when we went a few minutes ago, and there’s still no one there.”

  The woman craned her neck to look then huffed impatiently. “That girl!” She shook her head. “She’s always wandering off like she has better things to do than her job. I’ll mention it to Jacques.” She sighed again. “But no, they’re not closed. I’d tell you to just poke your head in the back, but he gets touchy about guests being in his space. Just check back. She’ll show up sooner or later.” She held up the bag she’d slipped the book into. “Are you headed back to your room, or would you like me to send this up for you so you don’t have to carry it around?”

  I glanced at Matt, who shrugged. “Send it up, I guess.” The bellmen still had to deliver our luggage at some point anyway.

  We thanked her and headed out. I couldn’t wait to see the spa.

  Chapter Four

  We made our way toward the lobby, where there was an exit to the courtyard. And, of course, in the courtyard was the entrance to the spa.

  Matt, however, lacking my single-minded focus on exploration, got distracted by the lounge off the back of the lobby. “Found the bar,” he said as he veered off.

  I didn’t follow him, figuring that if I did, I would just be contributing to my mission being derailed. “I thought we were going to the spa.”

  “We are. I just want to check things out back here.”

  I crossed my arms and stayed put.

  “Aw, come on, Franny. The spa isn’t going to pick up and leave. It’ll still be there when we get there.”

  I sighed. I really wanted to get down there. I wanted to see what it looked like and what services they offered and if they had any openings, maybe even later that day. But Matt was looking at me imploringly, and it wouldn’t really hurt anything to just go take a look at the lounge. I sighed and followed him across the lobby and into the lounge.

  After seeing the rest of the hotel, I shouldn’t have been surprised that it was an impressive space, but I was. Large and spacious with comfortable-looking furniture scattered all around, it was like a really upscale living room but on steroids. A grand piano sat in one corner near an open area and a parquet floor, which I guessed were used for bands and dancing. I suddenly knew where I wanted to spend the evening.

  And that was before I really focused on the other side of the room, which was dominated by a large, well-stocked bar and, beside that, a smaller but still well-stocked coffee bar. Both of which were currently unattended although neither had any kind of sign saying that they were closed or when they’d reopen.

  “Does anyone work here?” I asked to myself and the empty room as much as to Matt.

  “Probably doesn’t open until the evening,” Matt said, picking up a menu book from the bar counter. “They have desserts too.”

  “What about the coffee bar though? I like an after-dinner coffee as much as anyone, but it’s not exactly peak coffee time.”

  Matt shrugged. If it wasn’t Boston sports, he didn’t get worked up about it. “Maybe just on a break, then.”

  He wandered over to the windows that covered the entire back wall, giving access to the balcony for one thing and a stunning view of the mountains for another.

  “They should really have a sign or something.”

  I looked over their offerings. They had a good variety, with beans from Hawaii, Ethiopia, and Costa Rica. I even spotted a bag of my personal favorite coffee beans that I usually only allowed myself to splurge on once a year or so. I found myself really annoyed that whoever was supposed to be manning the bar was missing. I would have really liked to indulge in a cup right then and drink it while I sat out on the balcony, gazing at the landscape. I would have even been willing to postpone my visit to the spa for it.

  Matt walked up behind me and slipped his arms around my waist. He brushed a kiss against my neck. “Don’t worry, Franny. I’m sure he’ll be back. How about we go down and take a look at the spa now? We can stop by here again on our way to the room.”

  I sighed and turned to head to the spa. It was the lack of customer service that bothered me more than anything. Here I was, a paying customer who just wanted some macarons and a cup of coffee—maybe a macchiato so I could really taste those beans I liked—and I couldn’t find a single person to help me. Maybe I should go mention the missing barista to the lady in the gift shop too since she’d seemed interested in the fact that the girl at the patisserie was missing.

  Just as we were walking past the bar, a handsome twentysomething came through the door behind the bar. Based on his black shirt and pants and the black striped apron he was tying on, I assumed he was the bartender finally showing up for work.

  “Hey, guys, how’s it going?” He grinned, baring sparkling white teeth that, with his ocean-blue eyes and movie-star hair, made me think that he probably did pretty well in the tip department. And that a hotel was a dangerous place for him to work.

  Matt, of course, wasn’t fazed in the least by the fact that this guy had only just now shown up after we’d been wandering around for five minutes. “We’re good. Just heading down to check out the spa. How about you?”

  “I’m good!” He grinned again. This time I noticed that he looked slightly out of breath. He was breathing hard but trying to cover it. Probably because he didn’t want to make it any more painfully obvious than it already was that he was late to his post. “The spa’s great. You’ll love it!” He pointed at me and smiled the smile of a man who was used to women falling at his feet. It didn’t work on me, but I did have to admit that it was rather charming.

  I wasn’t going to let on about tha
t though. I was still annoyed that both bars had been unattended when we got there. “I wanted a cup of coffee before I went down there, but nobody was here.”

  The bartender looked over at the coffee bar, apparently surprised to see that it was empty. “I’m sorry about that, miss. Carrick has a tendency to wander off sometimes. Thinks he’s too good for his job or something.” He chuckled, but I wasn’t sure whether it was actually because he was joking or because he wasn’t. “I can make you a cup if you want though. I may not know how to make all the fancy peppermint caramel soy mochaccino things, but I can try.” He smiled again, and I felt my resistance to him melting. At least he was friendly when he was at the bar instead of seeming annoyed by it.

  Matt pulled me toward him with his arm around my waist and kissed my hair. “Franny actually owns a coffee shop, so she knows how to make all those things.”

  “Oh yeah?” The bartender’s eyes lit up, and he smiled again. “I’m not supposed to let you behind the counter, but if you can walk me through it, I’ll make you whatever you want. On the house too. As an apology for no one being here.”

  I mentally debated whether to have him make me something or just to go down to the spa, like I’d planned. On the one hand, I couldn’t wait to get down to the spa. On the other… well, coffee. “Do you know if there are any of those Ecuadorian beans roasted?”

  He walked over to the coffee bar and inspected the shelves above and below the counter before popping up with a small container of coffee grounds. “Is this the one?”

  I’d been hoping for fresh-ground, but since he’d gone to the trouble of looking for me, I went with it. “That’s it!”

  “A’right, what do you want?”

  I walked him through the steps to make me a macchiato. It was not the most complex drink, so he mostly had it under control, but I did give him a tip or two here and there to get the best result. He was actually a good student and looked at me expectantly as he handed over the cup.

  I sipped it cautiously and smiled. “It’s good!”

  He pumped his fist and let out a satisfied, “Yes!”

  “I would actually be happy to have this served in my café.”

  “That’s high praise coming from her,” Matt said. “She is pi-cky.” He drew the word out in emphasis.

  “Hey!” I swatted at him but happily went back for another sip. The bartender really had done a good job. Maybe all the drink-making skills were stored in the same place in his brain, so his experience bartending paid off in his coffee-making. But whatever the reason, he made a good cup. All my irritation melted away as I swallowed down the steamy liquid. Some people, coffee woke up. Me, it relaxed.

  I finished my cup and thanked the bartender.

  “No problem. And sorry again that nobody was out here. I’ll talk to Carrick about it when he shows back up. Oh, I’m Tommy, by the way.” He reached his hand out to shake both of ours.

  We shook and introduced ourselves.

  “Just ask for me if you need anything. And enjoy the spa! It’s really nice down there. You guys will like it.”

  I thanked him, and we headed out to the lobby to resume our mission.

  Whitney hurried past us on her way back to the desk from… somewhere. Was anyone in this place ever where they should be? It wasn’t my problem. I wasn’t going to let it bother me—much. Besides, there were lots of reasons for people to be off somewhere other than the counter they were supposed to stand behind. Maybe Whitney had been helping a guest. And maybe Tommy had been on break. Lots of reasons.

  When Whitney caught sight of us, she smiled and slowed her brisk walk. “You guys find your room okay?”

  “Sure did,” Matt said cheerfully.

  “Great! If there’s anything else you need, just let me know.”

  “Will do.”

  Whitney hurried away, and I looked around for the door to the spa. I knew I’d seen it earlier, when we were checking in. As my eyes swept the room, they glanced across the closing elevator door. I did a double take. “Was that Sandra?”

  “Sandra?” Matt looked confused.

  “Sandra Stanton. Mike’s wife.”

  Now he looked tired. He put his hands on my shoulders and looked me in the eyes. “First you think you see Mike, and now you think you see Sandra? Come on, Franny. You’ve got to get your mind off Cape Bay. Disconnect. That’s what we’re here for, remember?” His eyes searched mine, presumably hoping to find some shred of calm hiding somewhere in them.

  I smiled and nodded. “Right. No more thinking about Cape Bay or anyone in it. Just rest and relaxation.”

  He smiled in relief. “Good.”

  “You know where I’ve heard is a good place to relax?”

  “Where?” he asked good-naturedly even though I was pretty sure he already knew what I was going to say.

  “In the spa!”

  He chuckled. “Yeah, I guess if we’d gone straight there, you wouldn’t have had a chance to start thinking about Cape Bay again.”

  “You’re right.” I grinned. “It’s your fault.”

  “Well, let me make it up to you, then.” He took my hand in his, and we finally—finally!—headed straight for the spa.

  The cave-like entrance was inside what looked from one angle like a pile of rocks just beyond the courtyard. Walking through the doors, I already felt like I was a world away.

  The spa’s lobby was down a long, rock-lined hallway. The woman at the counter smiled warmly when she saw us approach.

  “Welcome to the Spa at the Alford Inn. Do you have a treatment scheduled?” Her voice was soft and low—exactly the kind of voice people wanted in a spa.

  “We have a couples massage Sunday,” Matt said a little too loudly in the quiet space. “She just wanted to take a look around today.”

  “Excellent. Let me just call Noelle up to give you a tour.” She picked up a phone next to her and spoke even more softly into it, so softly that I wondered how the person on the other end could even hear her. She put the phone down and turned her warm smile on me. “Perhaps you’d like to see our list of services?” She pulled a thick brochure from a stack and passed it to me.

  I had just begun to look through it when a woman came up beside us. “Hi, I’m Noelle. Are you ready for your tour?”

  We followed Noelle through a set of double doors and into the spa itself. She showed us the locker rooms—by far the nicest locker rooms I’d ever seen, more like a department store dressing room than anything else—the mineral water swimming pool in a space designed to make you feel like you were in a forgotten grotto, and a room she called the mixed-gender quiet room.

  “There are, of course, single-gender quiet rooms off each locker room, but this space is for everyone,” she said so softly I had to lean in to hear. “On that wall, you’ll find a variety of herbal teas and flavored waters for you to enjoy while you repose. Down this hall are our treatment rooms.” She gestured to a dim hallway lined with doors. A woman in all white opened one of the doors and stepped inside. “Soft conversation is allowed, but we do ask that you be cognizant of other guests who may prefer a quieter rest.”

  A bloodcurdling scream broke the silence.

  Our tour guide looked startled as she turned her head back and forth, looking for who had shattered the near silence. Everyone looked just as startled as she was though.

  Another scream. And another. Then a door down the hallway burst open, and the woman I’d just seen enter flung herself out.

  “Oh my God!” she screamed. “She’s dead!”

  Chapter Five

  Chaos erupted as all the people who had been relaxing in the quiet room only seconds before started screaming and running for the exit. Several of the treatment room doors opened. Spa employees, dressed in white, peeked out. Some of them had guests in white robes push out past them and head for the exit. So much for relaxation.

  “Everyone, please stay calm.” Noelle’s voice had come up to what seemed like normal conversation volume as she tried in va
in to keep people from knocking over tables and chairs and carafes of cucumber water in their mad dash for the doors. More quietly, she said into a microphone attached to an earpiece I had only just noticed, “Front desk, we have a code black. Request security to the treatment rooms and call 911.” She turned and smiled serenely at us, an expression that seemed wildly out of place. “I’m so sorry, but we’ll have to cut our tour short. If you’ll leave your names and room number with the front desk, we’ll contact you as soon as we have things under control and are ready to resume business as usual.” The calm smile stayed plastered on her face.

  For a moment, I thought she had lost her mind. Or maybe she’d never had it in the first place. Maybe she’d lost it a long time ago, after too many days spent whispering to strangers about peaceful grottos and quiet repose. But as soon as Matt made the slightest motion toward the exit, she turned and ran down the treatment hallway. I grabbed Matt’s arm to stop him. Something about the way the girl had screamed made me want to stay and see what was going on.

  “Amber! What’s going on? Who’s dead?” Noelle’s voice was suddenly much louder and thick with a Boston accent that had been undetectable in her controlled spa technician voice.

  Amber, the girl who had burst out of the room screaming, pointed back into it with one hand while she covered her mouth with the other.

  Noelle looked inside. “Who is it? A guest?”

  Amber shook her head. “Gina!”

  “Gina? She’s not on the schedule for today. What was she doing here?”

  Amber sank down to the floor. “She wanted me to give her a treatment.”

  Noelle walked slowly toward the door to the room. “But what—what happened?”

  “I don’t know!” Amber gasped. “I was giving her a mud wrap, and I got her all wrapped up and left to let it dry, like I always do, and when I came back, her face was covered! I thought maybe she did it, so I pulled the strip off—”

  “How would she do it?” Noelle interrupted. “Her arms are wrapped up against her!”