Page 27 of Trouble Walked In

“Sure thing.” Jordanna winked. “I’ll be in the Carriage House if you need me. I’m on conference call for the next two hours. Save me from boredom, I beg you.”

She was back on the phone before she reached the back door.

Renic made his way back to the front of the house and into the kitchen. He’d only caught a glimpse of the room before, but now he took a second to appreciate what was easily the best room in the house.

It had been recently renovated with white marble countertops, gleaming copper backsplash, and rich wood floors withearth-toned mats. The room featured four wall ovens, three gas stovetops, two large dishwashers, and a walk-in subzero refrigerator and freezer.

Sunlight streamed through the high windows above the sinks on the outside wall. It gave the room a bright, cozy vibe, as did the tiny blonde woman currently occupying the space.

Chef Carrie danced in front of the ovens using a spatula for a microphone. Her short hair was spiked, there was a floured handprint on her butt, and her apron was in danger of falling off. Tattoo vines wound up her right arm and disappeared underneath her shirt.

“Maybe next time he’ll think before he cheats,” Carrie belted out along with Carrie Underwood at the top of her lungs. She didn’t hit one note right, but she made up for it with enthusiasm.

Renic laughed. “You tell him.”

Carrie squeaked and spun around. “Oh, you scared me.”

“Sorry. You were enjoying the song so much I felt the need to chime in. I love hearing people enjoy music.” Renic smiled.

She beamed back at him. “I do enjoy it, as loud as possible. It doesn’t always enjoy me, but I don’t let that stop me. Sing out as loud as you can, I say. That’s what music is for.”

“I agree,” he said.

She waved the spatula at him. “What can I get you, Renic?”

He searched for a good reason to be in the kitchen. Food seemed the obvious choice. “Actually, I didn’t have lunch. I was hoping I could get a sandwich or something.”

“I can do better than that. Have a seat.” She indicated the stools lined up along the biggest kitchen island he’d ever seen, then crossed to the enormous fridge. “You’re having chickenpot pie for dinner with us around six-thirty, but I can get you something to nibble on while you wait.”

“Us?” He sat on the stool closest to the door.

Carrie pulled out a few containers and set them on the counter, then picked up a knife. “The people who make Belhurst tick. Me, Mark, Carter, Lizzie, and now Della. When we’re between events we have a family meal here in the kitchen. During events it’s too busy to breathe, much less eat. Oh, and I suppose that woman who came looking for Della will join us. Jordanna.”

“Oh, good.” He nodded. “Glad Jordy’s still here.”

Carrie flashed him a knowing look. “It seemed to me like she was waiting for you to get here. She’s been trying very hard to appear casual, but I can tell she’s tense. Everybody is, really. Well, everyone but Carter. He’s too busy flirting with Lizzie to notice anything else.”

Renic felt a prickle of irritation at that insight. “Who’s Carter?”

Carrie looked amused. “My nephew. He’s had it bad for her ever since she waltzed into our lives three years ago and saved the inn. He’s not the only one either.”

She started chopping vegetables and slicing cheese. “Lizzie turned heads all over town the first week. She has that exotic x-factor, you know?”

He knew all about the infamous Bellamy charisma. He’d experienced it firsthand. The night he’d first seen the three younger sisters perform at South by Southwest, they’d lit up the stage with that indescribable something that tickled his gut instincts. He’d known they’d make it big. He just hadn’t been in a position to do anything about it at the time. He was a low-level talent scout, not an executive, and they’d already been signed by Dream Works. It wasn't his job to manage anyone, but if he could have, he would have, in a hot second.

He remembered Lizzie patiently waiting backstage for the set to finish. She had a gentle magnetism that ensnared everyone in her orbit and didn’t let go. Della was a flash of lightning, while Lizzie was the warm glow of a fire on a cold winter night. He could imagine how small-town men flocked to that kind of presence. Was she dating any of them? Had she remarried? He hadn’t noticed a ring, but then he hadn’t really looked.

He thought about asking Carrie, then decided against it. The last thing he needed was to plant some sort of romantic fantasy in her head. She’d focus on that, and it wasn’t what he needed right now.

He dragged out a stool to sit on and pushed his thoughts back to the point. He was here to find out about Della, not Lizzie. He made a noncommittal sound to encourage Carrie to keep talking.

“So tell me, Renic, why are you here?” Carrie set a platter of vegetables and dip, fruit, and cheese in front of him.

“Thanks.” Renic picked up a cucumber, scooped up dip with it and ate it to stall for time, then did a double take. “This is really good.”

“Thank you,” she said, looking pleased.

“I’m serious. What kind of dip is this? I’ve never had anything like it. It’s perfect with the cucumber.”

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