Recipe for Murder Read Online Free Page B

more butter, but me—” He spread his hands. “I would start over.” As Ned groaned, Jacques turned to Nancy. “Perhaps your pretty friend would like a try?”
    Feeling put on the spot, Nancy cut off a fat wedge of butter and skimmed it around the bottom of the hot pan. When it was melted, she added some flour.
    â€œA bit more, I think,” Bonet said, so close to her ear that Nancy could feel his breath on her hair.
    She shook in more flour, then quickly whisked the mixture together until the flour was completely covered with butter.
    â€œNow add the milk to the roux,” Jacques said, handing her the cup.
    Nancy poured in the milk. The liquid hissed and bubbled. Quickly she lifted the skillet from the flame, afraid it would burn.
    â€œGo on,” Jacques urged. “You’re doing fine.”
    Nancy started whisking again and kept going until she could see the sauce begin to thicken. When it was done she was pleased to hear Jacques say, “Voilà! Miss Drew, that is excellent.
    â€œNow, Mr. Nickerson. Try again and pay attention to proportions.”
    When the chef walked over to the next group of students, Ned let out a pent-up breath. And Nancy waited quietly while he tried again. She glanced at the clock. The morning was almost over.
    â€œI want to ask Bonet a few more questions about Trent Richards,” Nancy said to Ned. “I think I’m missing something important.”
    â€œMe too.” Ned’s gaze was glued to the meltingbutter. “There!” he said in satisfaction as it pooled evenly on the bottom of the skillet.
    Nancy gave him a quick smile. “Now you’re cooking. I’ll go talk to Bonet.” She waited until Bonet had finished helping some other students. “Excuse me,” she said when he glanced her way. “I was wondering if I could talk to you for a few minutes.”
    â€œSure.” He smiled. “What’s on your mind?”
    Nancy took a deep breath. She wanted information, and for that she needed to gain the man’s confidence. Maybe a little flattery was in order. “Well, I’m just so impressed with your skills as a chef,” she gushed. “You must have quite a reputation.”
    â€œWell, yes.” His smile grew wider. “I do.”
    â€œSince Chef DuPres is in the hospital, are you in charge then?”
    The chef laughed. “I may have the skills, but not the years. Paul Slesak is Claude’s replacement.”
    â€œYou mean, Chef Slesak knew he would be Chef DuPres’s replacement if anything happened to DuPres?”
    Bonet nodded. “Paul was the one who asked me to fill in for Trent.”
    â€œI see,” Nancy said slowly. “Then normally you’re in charge of something else here?”
    â€œActually, no. I’m a guest chef at the school. I travel to a lot of different cooking schools around the world, but Claude DuPres is a close friend ofmine. I wanted to help him out.” He lifted his shoulders dismissively. “Claude has an office for me, but I prefer to move around.”
    â€œYou know Chef DuPres personally?”
    â€œHe is my . . .” He broke off, searching for the right word.
    â€œMentor?” Nancy suggested.
    â€œOui.” Bonet’s smile was a slash of white in his dark face. “My mentor. He taught me to be the best.”
    â€œHow is Chef DuPres?”
    Bonet shot her a quick glance. Had he suddenly realized she was pumping him for information? “The last I heard he was doing fine,” he said in a clipped voice.
    â€œI hope he’s all right,” Nancy said sincerely. “Well, I’d better go see how Ned’s doing,” Nancy murmured.
    As quickly as she could, she returned to Ned’s side. He was diligently stirring milk into his roux, but lumps were starting to form anyway.
    â€œNot enough fat to coat the starch molecules in the flour,” Jacques said, coming up