Doughnuts & Deadly Schemes - Culinary Competition Mystery #3

Chapter 15

(Carla)

"You should've seen Amy's face when I invited her here for tonight's dinner. Her reaction looked more like I had asked her to come to the hospital and work a shift for me." Carla chuckled. She slid the bowl full of orecchiette pasta with peas and creamy pesto sauce out of the microwave. The side dish was expertly made, a feat she couldn't accomplish on her own, by one of the chefs at Columbo's. The gourmet market, with cases full of heat and eat entrees, was her favorite place to find sustenance outside of Amy's kitchen. "I wonder what she expects to eat."

"Pizza and beer," Bruce said as he arranged square, black china plates on the dining table. "That's what I'd serve if I had my choice."

"I can't cook gourmet food, but I do know where to buy it and how to follow reheating instructions. Considering the amount of work she's done for our wedding, I owe her something better than pizza."

"I agree." Bruce wrapped his arms around her. His hands were warm as he laced his fingers together on top of her stomach. "Wouldn't surprise me if she ends up cluing me in on a major lead in my case, too. Working at the café makes her privy to information that I'm not."

Carla melted into the embrace as he kissed the side of her neck. The oven was on, but all of the heat in the kitchen was coming from Bruce. Ding. The sound could've signaled the beginning of a marathon love-making session, but it really meant that Amy and Alex had arrived. Carla welcomed them in then herded the couple to the table. They looked slightly confused at the delectable, yet totally uncharacteristic, aromas filling the loft.

Amy handed her a clear clamshell take-out container. The sticker on top said it was watermelon and feta salad from Riverbend Café. "Sorry, I took the cheater route and grabbed the salad from work."

"Not a problem. You know I always take the easy way. Have a seat. Everything's ready," Carla said. She slipped on a pair of green silicone oven mitts. Heating up entrees was one thing. Keeping food suitably warm for extended periods was another country in the barely explored world of cooking. At least she had figured out how to surreptitiously transfer the entrees out of the telltale plastic and foil containers into real baking dishes. One step at a time. Buy. Transfer. Heat. Serve. Eat.

Amy blinked as Carla set the bowl of the green-sauced pasta on the table, followed by a platter of sizzling, orange-glazed duck breasts that had just come out of the oven. The meal looked pretty impressive. Hopefully, it would taste good as well.

"Orange duck? I can't remember the last time I had that," Amy declared as she speared one of the glossy breasts with her fork then passed the platter to Alex. "I'm so excited that you made it. Yum!"

Carla couldn't keep the charade up any longer. She looked at Bruce and they both burst out laughing. "I can't lie," she said. "I got the pasta from Columbo's, and the duck is take-out from the new restaurant on the west side of town. You know I don't cook."

Amy rolled her eyes. "Well, you are very good at ordering take-out. Although if you can learn how to stabilize a compound fracture, you can learn how to cook."

"Considering the way you looked at the flower shop this afternoon, I figured I would need to perform first aid on you if I let you make dinner again tonight. But there was no way I could learn how to cook a nice meal in a matter of hours. So, please enjoy my expertly purchased pre-made meal."

Carla had never seen a person sleepwalk before, but she imagined it was similar to how Amy looked earlier in the day. While she appreciated the help, Carla felt guilty about keeping her awake to shop for boutonnieres after the long night helping Sophie. "Did you get a nap this afternoon?"