Free Murder Under the Tree by Susan Bernhardt Page A

towards the kitchen of the retirement home. I popped my head in the door and asked if I could speak to Lola Castillo. While I waited, I kept hearing Phil's voice in my head, telling me not to involve myself. Well...I was involved.
    An attractive brunette in her thirties with large brown eyes and olive skin came out of the kitchen. I recognized her as one of the servers at the tea. Actually, she wasone of the servers who had attended Les' table. “Hello? Did you ask for me?”
    I replied that I had and told her my name. We shook hands.
    “You were Les' girlfriend?”
    She nodded. I could see the pain in her eyes. “Yes.”
    I looked up. A young black woman with beautiful, high cheekbones came out of the kitchen with a cart of dishes and proceeded to set the tables. “I'd like to learn more about Les. My friend and I were the ones who tried to help him at the Christmas tea.”
    “I remember you.” Lola paused. “We were close...very close. Les and I.” A tear rolled down her cheek. She lowered her head then looked up at me. “We were going to be engaged.” She wiped her cheek with the palm of her hand. “Why....”
    CLANG! The woman setting the table dropped a tray of silverware. We looked at her then I turned back at Lola. “I'm sorry. It's so tragic.”
    Lola nodded. She wiped her cheek again.
    “Were any of the residents in the kitchen the morning of the tea? Or the director, the doctor, anyone who isn't normally in there?”
    She made a humph sound. “Are you kidding? The director?” I could hear the anger in her voice. “It would be beneath her to grace us in the kitchen. If she wants to speak to someone, she summons us...like a queen, to her office. No. I wouldn't have minded if the doctor would come into the kitchen. He is… Well, he's nice.” She put her head down. “But no, Sheila's the head of the kitchen. She takes care of everything.”
    “What about the residents? Were any of them in there that day?”
    “They pop in from time to time looking to see what we are serving or to visit a little. We all have our favorites. That morning?” Lola hesitated for a few moments. “It was busy, getting everything ready. I saw a few. Anne Niven popped in, said she was doing research on a Christmas book she was writing. A couple others, that nasty new man...Mr. Barnowski. Probably checking out the kitchen staff. He pinched my butt the other day. I gave him a piece of my mind. There were others. Can't remember.”
    Hmm. Barnowski and Anne popped in. I wonder why Anne didn't mention this. “Who put the food on the trays that you served?
    “Sheila arranged the trays.”
    “Did every table receive the same foods.”
    “A few of the residents on special diets sat at their assigned tables but otherwise everyone's was the same, down to the exact number of those little cookies on the trays.”
    So why then would Les have had peanut products in his food, but not Martin's friend at the next table? “Were the trays marked for specific tables?”
    “Why all the questions? You a cop? You don't look like—”
    The kitchen door opened. “Lola, Nancy wants to see you in her office,” the lean, muscular woman looked at me. “Pronto.”
    “You know, when you get summoned...” Lola hurried out of the dining room without finishing her sentence, the door swinging behind her. The muscular woman went back into the kitchen.
    I started putting on my coat to leave. The young woman who had dropped the silverware came over to me and said in a low voice, “Don't believe Lola. I heard what she was telling you. Les broke up with her months ago. Several months ago. Lola was so angry with him. She looked like she could have killed him for days after he broke up with her. That being engaged talk is a lie.”
    “Kill? Do you mean that?”
    “I shouldn't have said kill . But angry, you bet.”
    “I'm Kay Driscoll. What's your name?”
    She looked between the swinging dining room door that Lola just went out of and the kitchen