Free Two Cooks A-Killing by Joanne Pence

“So, you come here vit your hoity and toity vords. Do you think to take over my kitchen? Is that vhat this is all about?”
    â€œNot at all. In fact, I’d hoped we could get along. I didn’t catch your name, by the way.”
    â€œMy name? You vant my name?”
    â€œYes.” She smiled sweetly.
    He looked about to explode. “I am Rudolf Goetring.”
    She had never heard of him. “Mr. Goetring, I’ll be creating the Christmas dinner for the TV show.” She walked over to the pantry, opened thedoor, and stepped inside, checking the shelves. “I thought it would be lovely if we could work together, since I need to test the recipes Mr. Tarleton will be giving me, as well as get to know the equipment.”
    â€œSo that’s vhat you thought, is it? Get out of there!”
    She came out, pleased with what she saw, and began opening cupboards.
    â€œNo one has said a vord to me about you or any of this! Vhat am I here? Am I some dog barf? You think you can just svoop in and take over? I have vork to do! I vant you out.”
    She tried to open a door on the far wall, but it was locked. “What’s this?”
    â€œThe maid’s quarters. You can’t go in there! You can’t stay in here!”
    â€œMaking coffee—poorly—and opening packages is hardly work.” She checked cabinets under the sink and counters. “I have a real job to do. You get out!”
    â€œI must vork on the lunch,” he protested.
    She was becoming truly irritated, and opened a door that led to a basement. It must be the wine cellar. “Lunch is catered.”
    â€œNot for Mr. Tarleton.” He lifted his chin.
    She shut the door and gave the kitchen another quick once-over. “Fine. It still won’t require you to use the entire kitchen. I need it this afternoon. I’m going to talk to Mr. Tarleton. I will be back.”
    Â 
    â€œI think he went into town,” Mariah said when asked Tarleton’s whereabouts. “The equipment isall fouled up. Some fool plugged things into the wrong slots. Em threw a temper tantrum and left.”
    â€œOh, dear!” Angie was glad she hadn’t tried to talk to him earlier. They were standing on the front veranda. She eyed the crew filling the fake-snow machine. “You know it doesn’t snow in St. Helena, except maybe once in ten years.”
    â€œThey want snow,” Mariah said.
    Angie decided not to argue. “Do you expect him back soon?”
    â€œI guess.” Mariah turned away.
    â€œBut…I’ve got to get started preparing the Christmas dinner.”
    Mariah looked at her as if she were crazy. “Relax! The dinner scene won’t be for a week. Maybe longer.”
    â€œA week?” Angie was dumbfounded. “Why was I asked to come here already?”
    â€œBeats me.”
    Angie couldn’t believe it! She liked being at Eagle Crest, meeting celebrities and so on, but she saw no reason to be here a week early twiddling her thumbs when she could be home with Paavo twiddling something a lot more interesting.
    As Angie stepped back into the house she was greeted by the foyer Christmas tree whirling and playing “We Wish You A Merry Christmas.”
    â€œBah, humbug!” she said, and entered the dining room. Maybe if she tried to visualize how she’d like to present the food she’d be less upset.
    â€œAngie, excuse me,” Mariah called. “Someone’s here to see you.”
    In the doorway stood her sister Bianca, the oldest of the five Amalfi daughters. She looked a lot like Angie, except that she was at least twenty pounds heavier, her hair was straight and chin-length, and she had a preference for polyester slacks over designer outfits.
    â€œI heard you were here. I couldn’t believe it!” Bianca shrieked. “I loved this show! I simply adored it! Look at this house! It’s like being on TV. Angie, how can you stand