Page 59 of Exposure of Murder

After greeting everyone, he sat back in his chair and looked around. It’d been a while since he was here.

Emmy had done a fine job decorating, and he loved the paintings of Beaver Creek through the years that she had hung on the brick walls.

Decorative lights on the small trees in the corner of the room added a touch of magic.

Wonderful scents from the kitchen permeated the air, and Ethan wondered what was on the menu tonight. Finally, the servers came around to take drink orders and pass out the menu for the meal.

“Beaver Creek Brewery’s Pumpkin Ale is available tonight,” Adam said, looking up from his menu.

Ethan thought he might order that. It was only available in the fall.

“Oh, they have a Pumpkin Spice White Russian that sounds yummy,” said Jane, glancing down at the list of drinks. “Or maybe I’ll have the Spiced Cranberry Margarita—no, the Caramel Apple Martini.”

She was so cute. Who knew someone could get excited about drinks? Ethan chuckled.

“Sorry. I love cocktails,” she said. “Although I don’t have them very often, so it’s a treat.”

Ethan laughed. “Should I order you one of each?”

“Ha ha.” Jane chuckled. “Just the Caramel Apple Martini will do.”

They placed their orders, then the servers brought out different charcuterie boards and placed them in between the decorations on the table.

He’d never had a board before and was impressed with the colorful selections of local cheeses, sausages, honeycomb, different olives, crackers and bread.

“What an interesting selection for dinner,” Jane exclaimed, looking up from her menu. “Butternut squash and apple soup, yum. And the autumn harvest salad with kale, roasted beets, dried cranberries and goat cheese sounds interesting.”

Ethan looked down at the menu. There was a choice of entrees: roasted chicken, braised short ribs and a vegetarian option of stuffed acorn squash with quinoa, wild rice, dried cranberries and pecans, drizzled with a maple glaze. It was nice to have options, but he was a beef guy, and the short ribs with mashed potatoes and honey-glazed carrots were right up his alley.

“What are you having, Jane?” he asked.

“Definitely the chicken with roasted root veggies. Did you notice the free-range chicken comes from Rustic Roots?”

He nodded. Emmy was very good at sourcing local produce and meats.

As people enjoyed the food, conversations around the bistro became muted, and it didn’t take long for them to finish the drinks and charcuterie boards.

Adam leaned back and rubbed his stomach. “Those local cheeses and the salumi were delicious. I’ve never had a board before.”

“We had several different ones the last time my friends and I ate here,” said Jane. “Emmy is so creative with them.”

The dinner buzzed with conversation, and the aroma of food lingered in the air. Ethan finished his last bite of caramel apple pie, leaned back in his chair, and patted his stomach. “What a fantastic dinner,” he exclaimed.

Jane was still working on her pumpkin spice crème brûlée. She dipped her spoon in the custard and offered him a bite. He looked at the spoon of delicate orange custard and at Jane, whose eyes sparkled with mischief. “Taste?” she asked.

Ethan was no slouch when it came to overt facial clues. Damn, the woman was flirting with him. Okay, he could play that game. He leaned in closer, held her hand, and gently guided the spoon to his lips. He savored the custard, then licked his lips lazily. Her breath caught. Her eyes darkened. He smirked.Gotcha!

The blush crept down her neck, and she let out a nervous chuckle as she finished eating her dessert. Ethan had forgotten how much fun playful teasing could be.

The server returned asking if they wanted coffee, which they did, and filled their cups. The rich, aromatic brew scented the air. The bistro was gradually emptying, and the clatter of dishes being whisked away mingled with muted conversations.

They finished their coffee, and since Ethan had paid in advance, there was no waiting for a check.

Saying goodbye to Adam and the few people left, he helped Jane with her coat.

They walked out to a noticeably colder night than when they had entered. The crisp air bit at their cheeks. He took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of cedar from a wood fire.

“Brisk out here,” he said, his breath visible in the air. “Want to continue walking on Main Street to see the decorations or return to your house?”

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