Short-Circuited in Charlotte: A Pret' Near Perfect Mystery by Amy Patricia Meade

Author:Amy Patricia Meade [Meade, Amy Patricia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2017-01-23T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Chef Durand welcomed Stella with a warm greeting and ushered her into the sitting area of his oversized bedroom. A man of propriety, he quickly added, “Unless, Madame Buckley, you’d feel more comfortable downstairs in the parlor or the dining room.”

“No, this is fine. The more privacy, the better. So, no Cavalcade for you today, Chef?”

“No, the ice cream is not very popular in this weather. I also wanted to stick close to Mademoiselle McArdle should she need anything. Please, have a seat.”

Stella selected a carved walnut Bergere chair and perched precariously upon the dark blue needlepoint cushion, taking care not to allow the damp portions of her jeans and sweater to come in contact with the delicate upholstery. As if sensing his guest’s discomfort, Durand immediately appeared from the other end of the room bearing both a towel and a small glass of cognac.

“Thank you,” Stella said graciously as she stood up, wrapped the towel around her shoulders and torso, and politely passed on the cognac. “It’s a bit early in the day for me, I think.”

“Too early? Madame Buckley, your statement makes me very glad to be French for we do not have such rules and regulations governing our intake of wine, cream, coffee, cheese, and exceptionally fine cognac, especially on a cold wet day spent outdoors investigating the discovery of not one, but two, corpses.”

“Point well taken, Chef Durand,” Stella accepted the cognac with a grin. As the chef returned to the bar cart to pour himself a glass, Stella eased back into the Bergere chair and admired her surroundings. With its chalk white moldings, black marble fireplace mantel, silk window draperies, rows of French paintings, and color palette of gray, taupe, and smoky blue, the room would have been just as at home on the Left Bank of the Seine as it was in a nineteenth century mansion in the mountains. “So, given your comment about my investigation, someone must have filled you in about my detective activities this weekend.”

“Yes,” Durand answered as he took up residence on the silver damask settee adjacent to Stella’s chair, “Meagan told me that she believes Philip was murdered and that you have agreed to help her prove that her theory is correct.”

“Not entirely. I’ll also prove her theory incorrect, should that happen to be the case.”

“I am relieved to hear this, since I am not sure that Mademoiselle McArdle realizes the trouble she might be causing for herself.”

“Trouble? Are you saying that you don’t believe Philip Morehouse was murdered?”

“This is a difficult question for me,” Durand sighed. “As a chef, I create food which both provides for and enhances human life. It is, therefore, extremely difficult for me to believe that anyone would or could take actions to extinguish that human life, whether it be their own or that of another.”

“So you’re saying that no one here at the Cavalcade could have sunk as low as to murder another human being.”

“No, what I said is that I cannot imagine it.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.