Ellen McKenzie 03-And Murder for Desser by Kathleen Delaney Page A

barking and the shouted questions outside.
    “Let him out the front door,” advised Sabrina. “He can help Frank.”
    I have to admit I was tempted, but before I got the chance, the front door opened. Larry was propelled in, followed by Frank, who turned to pause in the doorway for one more round of pictures.
    “Frank,” said Aunt Mary, “what on earth are you doing?”
    “My dear Mary.” He took her hand and pressed it to his lips. Aunt Mary flushed. I snorted and Larry cleared his throat.
    “I have been busy this morning.” Frank let go of Aunt Mary’s hand and looked around. “Where is Sabrina? And Mark?”
    “Sabrina is taking a shower and Mark is out at some winery someplace trying to get his grapes crushed,” I said.
    “Oh.” Frank looked disappointed, but not for long. “I have an important announcement to make and rushed right over here to tell them, and you, of course, my dear Mary.” He now graciously included me with a sweeping gesture. “However, when I arrived and saw the members of the press so fortuitously waiting for some tidbit, I knew it was fate.”
    “Fate,” murmured Larry. It was the only word he had spoken so far, but his eye twitched, and the anxious expression seemed to have become a permanent part of him.
    “Exactly,” Frank said, basking in satisfaction.
    “All right, Frank. What is this announcement?” Aunt Mary asked. I was glad she was the one doing the asking. I couldn’t have done it and kept a straight face. Frank so obviously loved all this drama. Larry so obviously hated it.
    “I have talked to Otto’s estranged brother, who is his only relative. He lives in New York. He is also a chef. We met when Otto and I were partners, and, of course, he knows what I have done since. He has asked me to take over the restaurant and bed and breakfast until the estate can be settled. Since no one knows if Otto left a will that could be months. Years!”
    “You’re joking!” Sabrina stood on the bottom-to-last step, wearing cutoff jeans and a white tee shirt. Her still damp hair, pulled back off her face with a headband, was left to fall over her shoulders in soft, light brown curls. She looked like her mother, right down to the scowl.
    “My beautiful Sabrina. No, no. No joke. I’m going to stay here, in this charming small town, and make fabulous meals. I will also finish that lovely old house in a style befitting it. I must admit, I’m amazed Otto has started off so well, but with Mary to help me, we’ll do even better, much better. And, of course, the worthy Larry will be my right hand. Otto could not do without him and neither can I.”
    I have never seen anyone look less thrilled at a prospect than the worthy Larry, unless it was someone whose stay on death row was about to end.
    Sabrina didn’t look too thrilled either. “I don’t get it.” She came down another step. “You sold Tortelli’s, which you swore you would never do, and now you’re going to jump into another restaurant? Why?”
    Frank looked a little uncomfortable but immediately covered it up with a smile. However, he ignored the question. “My first triumph will be the grand opening dinner. Otto has invited a small group of important people; people who can help make this restaurant, this bed and breakfast, truly world famous. Each dish must be perfect, and it will be, it will be.”
    “He’s changed the whole menu,” Larry blurted out. We all whirled around to look at him. It was his first contribution since uttering “fate.” He glanced at Frank as though this was a personal affront.
    Frank smiled benignly back. “It will be much better, you’ll see. And think of what you’ll learn.”
    Larry didn’t look convinced. He looked caught between fury and despair. “Now we’ll have to change the wine menu. Nothing we picked out will do.” His eye twitched again, and he took another deep breath. “I’m sorry, Sabrina,” he went on, deliberately, “but the wines you delivered will have to