Fiona Silk Mysteries 2-Book Bundle. Mary Jane Maffini
in the St. Aubaine paper. You got to stay on top of things, Miz Silk.”
I dug into the poutine. I didn’t plan to stay on top of anything that had to do with Hot Stuff, Rafaël, Naughty Marietta, Anabel Huffington-Chabot (if that could possibly be someone’s name), Jean-Claude Lamontagne or anyone else connected with the whole ridiculous scene.
Hélène Lamontagne’s Sangria Blanca
Makes at least 12 servings
Marinating time: at 3 hours or longer
This is a special wine summer drink to serve for casual entertaining. Red wine can replace the white wine, but use colourful available fresh fruit such as oranges, red apples, berries or grapes.
3 cups chilled dry white wine (750 ml bottle)
½ cup (125 ml) Cointreau or brandy
2 to 3 tablespoons (25 to 45 ml) granulated sugar, or to taste
1 each lime and lemon, cut into thin slices, pits removed
1 peach, peeled and sliced
1 unpeeled green apple, cored, cut into thin slices
1 cup (250 ml) green grapes, halved and pitted
Ice cubes
1½ cups (375 ml) club soda
In large glass pitcher, combine wine, Cointreau or brandy, sugar and pineapple or peach, apple and grapes. Chill in the refrigerator for at least 3 hours to mix the flavors.
To serve, add ice cubes and club soda to the pitcher. Serve in large glasses with two or three pieces of fruit in each glass.
Three
You know what I forgot, Miz Silk?” Josey said when she’d finished her poutine.
“What?”
“Your agent called. She said it was good news.”
“How do you know?”
“I dropped in to your house, and I answered the phone because it was ringing, and that’s it.”
I took a deep breath, then said, “You shouldn’t be in my house without letting me know, Josey, and you definitely shouldn’t be answering the telephone. Especially when you don’t have a key.”
“That’s okay, Miz Silk. It’s no problem.”
“It’s a problem for me.”
“Why?”
“Privacy. You have to learn to respect that.”
“Sure, privacy’s good, but I’m like your assistant. I can screen all your calls if you want.”
“I can’t pay you to be an assistant.”
“That’s okay. You can run a—”
“And I am not going to run a tab for the assistant I can’t afford.”
“Fine. I volunteer. You need my help, Miz Silk.”
“I guess I’d better head home and call her back.”
Josey flipped open a small striped notebook with blue pages. “Don’t rush. She’s out at a reception now. She’s a really neat person. She said she’ll call you back tonight. See? I’ll take care of the messages, and if it’s urgent, I’ll get back to them.”
“But...”
She snapped the notebook shut and beamed. “In the meantime, I can tell you’re worried about this wallet.”
“I am. I know that I’d be in a panic if it was mine.”
“Not everybody’s like you, but anyway, I bet if we went up to the Domaine Wallingford where the En feu! production is happening, we could find someone to give it to her. All these extra people you see around town are either connected with the production or they’re fans here to catch a glimpse of Rafaël and Marietta.”
“Can they do a show in front of an audience?”
“I don’t think they’re doing that. But Rafaël and Marietta are each supposed to pick a different restaurant every night and have dinner there. So people are trying to be in the right one at the right time. People have driven in from Toronto, Montreal. I heard they’re supposed to start production tomorrow.”
“Amazing.”
“Sure is. That’s why Jean-Claude was behind it. It really puts the spotlight on the town, which will help him sell his projects. The cameras will be on Rafaël and Marietta in the restaurants too. And the people at the Wallingford Estate, they offered not only the space, but their big kitchen too. It’s going to be great publicity when they open as an auberge with a spa and a restaurant. Good business all round. It will be fun to see what’s going on up there. What did you say her name was? I forget.”
“Harriet Crowder.”
“See? You could give her back the wallet and then you could relax. Maybe later we could even go for a swim at Miz Lamontagne’s place and tell her about it.”
I chuckled. “Hélène hasn’t invited us. And I wouldn’t want to run into Jean-Claude twice in a day, that’s for sure.”
“His lordship doesn’t spend much time at home, you know that. Miz Lamontagne loves us. And you have to consider Tolstoy in this hot weather.”
“Forget the pool. Let’s go get rid of this damn wallet.”
The Wallingford Estate had been imposing even during the many years when it had stood abandoned and crumbling. I’d never fully understood why someone who wanted a relaxing summer getaway would construct a multi-storey home out of granite, on a hill across the old road along the river. But then I wasn’t a nineteenth century lumber baron. And I had to admit the place had a certain grandeur, from the Scottish baronial style of the main house to the extravagant flowing lawns and gardens. The only thing that screamed contemporary was the collection of vans and SUVs parked outside. Josey and I were puffing by the time we’d walked from the centre of the village up the long, craggy hill.
Minutes later, when we’d caught our breath, we swept up the wide stone exterior staircase and into the main foyer, a cool, contemporary, slightly Zen atmosphere that came as a surprise. The Zen thing was a bit disrupted by the frantic scurrying of young people in T-shirts and camouflage cut-offs. Most seemed to be carrying mikes, cameras, wires and other equipment.
A young man walked past us and raised an eyebrow. I recognized his white jeans and cowboy boots. He was still clutching the clipboard. Only now he also had an earpiece connecting him to someone somewhere. He also had something twinkly on the side of his nose and was sporting a strange hairdo that seemed to come to a point.
“I’m sorry,” he smiled, showing teeth that must have been professionally whitened. “But the facility’s not open to the public yet. Is there anything...?”
“We’re here to see Miz Harriet Crowder. This is Miz Fiona Silk, and I am Miz Josey Thring. Her assistant.” Josey flipped open the little notebook with the blue pages, just in case.
His nose twitched alarmingly before he got control again. “I’m Brady Davies. I’m an assistant director,” he said. “All to say, I don’t know where Harriet is right now. Is she expecting you?”
I said, “No.”
“Ah. Well, um, I can...”
“We have her wallet. Miz Silk here found it,” Josey said.
I broke in. “Perhaps you could see that she gets it.”
“Are