My conversation with Sophie left me rattled. Had I made a huge mistake by not paying enough attention to Bertie? Why had she warned Sophie to stay away from Jimmy? Was she watching out for the Fair Verona Players’ youngest staff member, or could there be another reason?
What motive could Bertie have for wanting Jimmy dead?
She was ambitious and eager to carve her own mark on the theater world. If she saw Jimmy’s behavior as a threat to her future, would that be a strong enough reason to kill him? Her frustration with him had been palpable since the first day I’d seen them interact, but frustration and murder were two very different beasts.
The one pro of my conversation with Sophie was that it had snapped me out of my melancholy about Sterling and Steph’s imminent departure. My thoughts were completely consumed with Jimmy’s murder again, for better or worse.
The remainder of the day at the bakeshop was uneventful. That was until shortly after closing. Everyone was going through cleaning procedures when Sterling cleared his throat and looked at me. “Hey, can we have a quick team meetup?”
My stomach dropped, but I plastered on a smile and nodded. “Of course.”
We waited for Andy and Sequoia to join us from upstairs.
“Why the solemn vibe?” Andy asked, reading the room immediately.
Sterling launched right in. I had a feeling it was like ripping off a Band-Aid. If he waited any longer, he might not have the courage to say what needed to be said.
“Steph and I have some news.”
“OMG, OMG, OMG. It’s happening.” Bethany clapped as she bounced on her tiptoes. “A Torte wedding. Can I help design the cake? Please? Pretty, pretty please?” She beamed with delight.
Steph’s face turned ashen.
Sterling appeared equally pale. “Sorry, Bethany. I haven’t popped the question. At least not yet.”
“Don’t go all traditional on me.” Steph punched him in the shoulder. “I haven’t popped the question yet either.”
“Fair enough.” He caught her eye and winked. “Anyway, sorry, but no, that’s not the news.”
Bethany forced a smile, but I could tell she was disappointed.
Sterling inhaled deeply like he was trying to work up the courage to continue. “Look, you all know how much we love this place. Torte will always be home to me.”
“Uh-oh,” Marty interrupted, clearing his throat and looking at me. “I don’t like the sound of this.”
“It’s not bad news,” Sterling replied, holding one hand out to try and pacify everyone. “It’s more like bittersweet news.”
“Do I need to sit down for this?” Andy asked with trepidation.
“I got offered the position of head chef at Whaleshead Resort,” Sterling said, as quickly as possible. “After some serious deliberation, I’ve decided to take the job. At least for a trial one-month run.”
“That’s awesome, man.” Andy clapped Sterling on the back. “Torte won’t be the same without you, but you have to chase your dreams. That’s what Jules always tells us, right?” He glanced at me for confirmation.
I nodded, trying to center on the positive. It was awesome for them, if still painful for me.
The rest of the team followed Andy’s lead and congratulated Sterling.
“You are going to leave an indelible mark on the food world,” Marty said, like a proud parent, wrapping Sterling in a big hug. “I can’t wait to make a reservation at Chez Sterling.”
“Agreed.” Bethany bobbed her head and brushed tears from her dimpled cheeks. “I’m going to miss you so much. Steph, how are you going to handle having Sterling at the coast? Lots of weekend getaways?”
Steph winced. “Yeah, about that.”
“Oh no, not you, too?” Bethany backed away as if she could escape hearing what would come next.
“They offered me the pastry chef position.” Steph stared at her black Converses, while twisting a strand of her violet hair around her finger. The spotlight was never her happy place, especially in an emotionally charged moment like this.
“That’s awesome and terrible.” Bethany placed both hands on her cheeks. “I mean, it’s, like, seriously awesome, but like Andy said, how is Torte going to survive without you two?”
“It’s not that dire,” I assured her. “Trust me. Selfishly I want them both to stay forever, but this is an incredible step in both of your careers,” I said to Sterling and Steph. “We are all going to miss you desperately, but I’m already planning a Torte road trip to the beach for the opening weekend of the restaurant, and while it will never be the same without you, Mom, Carlos, and I are committed to finding replacements who are a good fit.” I addressed the rest of the team. “On that note, I’m going to want your input and involvement in the hiring process.”
Everyone took some time to let the news sink in. Even though I knew it was coming, hearing it spoken out loud made it real.
This was happening. Torte was changing. Sterling and Steph were moving on, and after the team and I adjusted to our new reality, we would have to do the same.
My phone buzzed.
I excused myself to answer the call.
“Juliet, I need you now,” Lance whispered.
“Where are you, and why are you whispering?”
“Uva,” Lance said in a hushed voice. “I can’t talk, but I need you out here—stat.”
“Again?” Had Sophie camped out in the cellar after our conversation? If she wasn’t the killer, I could easily see her setting up a shrine for Jimmy in the basement. “Is Carlos there?”
“I think he’s in the tasting room. This has nothing to do with him and everything to do with murder. Hurry.”
He hung up before I could say anything more.
I returned to our impromptu staff meeting. Sterling and Steph were showing everyone photos of Whaleshead and their initial ideas for an opening menu. I decided it was best to let the team have this time to connect and process.
They would probably do that better without me for the moment. I wanted Sterling and Steph, along with everyone else, to be able to talk freely without having to imagine what the bakeshop was going to look like without them around. And, I’d already had time to process the news. It would be good for the team to have space to let it sink in.
“I have to run over to Uva,” I said to everyone. “I’ll take the delivery van. Hang out as long as you want. I know this is a big change, but I’m so thrilled for Sterling and Steph, and like Marty said, we’re going to have a Torte road trip for the grand opening. Let’s reconvene tomorrow morning to talk next steps. For tonight, make more coffee and raid the pastry case.”
As I gathered my things, Marty was already looking at cabin rentals at Whaleshead and Andy was riffing on potential coastal coffee blends. I felt relieved that everyone knew, and I didn’t have to carry that secret any longer. Hearing the team’s excitement gave me a new burst of energy. The beach wasn’t far. We would stay in touch. It wouldn’t be the same, but it would be something.
The winding road to the winery was dotted with family farms, grazing sheep, and pear orchards. I knew it was futile to try and figure out what prompted Lance’s urgent call, but I couldn’t help but wonder why he was at Uva and what he might have discovered that made him insist on me joining him immediately. Lance’s timing was, as always, impeccable.
The sun was starting to sink below Pilot Rock as I turned off onto the gravel road that led to the tasting room. A prop plane circled in the distance, floating over a swath of densely forested mountains that stretched as far as I could see.
Lance flagged me down with both arms at the entrance to the long driveway.
I pulled the van over to the side and rolled down the window. “What’s going on?”
“Come with me, there’s no time to waste.” He tapped his naked wrist.
I followed him as he sprinted toward the barn and hurried onto the stage. He didn’t say a word as he took the side steps two at a time, pressed a finger to his lips, and motioned to the curtain.
I had no idea what to expect when we rounded the stage.
Backstage was dusky. Early evening light filtered through the scaffolding.
Were we walking into a trap?
Where was Carlos? Where was the rest of the cast and crew?
I started to speak, but Lance shook his head and shushed me again.
“This way.” His voice was barely audible.
He slunk along the base of the scaffolding and stopped in front of the back exit. The stage had been constructed with stairs there for the actors to use as pass-throughs to get around to the other side or sneak up to the tasting room without being seen.
“Look.” He pointed one long finger at the bottom of the stairs, where a pile of discarded costumes lay on the ground. A mangled mess of glitter, tulle, and hot-pink and neon sequins was scattered everywhere.
“What is this?” I whispered.
“The costumes,” he mouthed.
“What about them?” I gestured with my arms to try and show him I didn’t understand the significance.
“Minutes before you arrived, I caught Olive trying to make a getaway.”
“With the costumes from the show?” That didn’t make sense.
He nodded like he couldn’t believe I hadn’t caught on yet.
“Why are we whispering?”
“Because she’s hiding somewhere nearby, and we need to catch her before she escapes. The killer is within our grasp, Juliet.” He fanned his face. “Can you feel the tension? I can barely breathe. We’re on the cusp of bringing a villain to swift justice.”