The Silent Server

By Estelle Richards

Seaside luxury. Culinary delights. Dark secrets. 

When one of her servers is attacked on the job, chef Bitsy Pendleton springs into action to track down the culprit.

Every answer brings more questions. What was the server hiding? Who attacked him? And now, are they after Bitsy?

Join Bitsy as she follows the clues and finds the secret of The Silent Server.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Estelle Richards
• Release date: Jul 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223065524

Estelle Richards

Estelle Richards lives in the desert and writes cozy mystery. Find out more at estellerichards.com

Book preview

Chapter one

B itsy, wait!

I stopped in the doorway of my mom’s crystal shop. My bicycle was just outside. If I left right away, I would make it to my appointment on time. I had an important meeting with potential clients.

What’s up, Mom?

I can’t find my keys.

My mother, Elzabetta Pendleton, looked every inch the aging hippie. She had long waves of brown hair threaded with silver, a multicolored skirt that fell to her ankles, and a profusion of charms and pendants hanging around her neck. But at this moment she lacked her usual Zen calm.

I sighed. Even if it made me late, I had to help her. I turned around and came back into the Crystal Den.

Where did you see them last?

I think it was when I was putting out the new shipment of incense.

I’d thought the smell of patchouli was stronger than usual. I went to the incense aisle and started looking through the shelves.

After years of helping Mom in her shop, it was lucky that I wasn’t completely nose-blind to patchouli, jasmine, and sandalwood. I needed my sense of smell in the catering business.

I straightened the little bottles, boxes, and sticks of incense. Then I checked behind the various incense holders and burners. But I didn’t see her keychain.

It was a distinctive keychain, with more crystals and charms on it than keys. When I was a little kid, I was sure that it gave my mother magical powers. It was always just the two of us on our own. I think the idea of special power and protection made me feel more secure. Now that I’m an adult, I know that the real magic was love and a lot of hard work.

I moved on to the bins of polished rocks. Turquoise. Hematite. Multiple colors of quartz. But no keys.

The music on the little speaker hanging in the corner of the ceiling paused for a second while the CD player changed discs. Enya’s sweet voice started singing about the Orinoco flow. I hummed along with it and moved on to the book section.

The bell on the door jingled. My best friend and business partner Odette Dupont peered into the dimly lit shop. California sunshine spilled in around her.

I rushed forward.

I’m so sorry I’m late. We’re looking for Mom’s keys.

Odette looked around the crystal shop. For a second I saw the space the way someone else might. It could be in the dictionary under the word Cluttered.

I loaded the samples. If we go now, we should still make it on time. Depending on traffic, of course.

I blushed. I had planned to load the van. I still worried about carrying my fair share of the load in our fledgling business. We both wore chef’s coats, but Odette was the real culinary talent. I mostly just talked to people.

Mom swished forward and embraced Odette. Hello my dear, I’m sorry I’ve kept Bitsy here so long.

Odette accepted the hug, looking a little stiff. She was so shy that even people she’d known for years seemed to make her nervous sometimes.

It’s ok, she said, giving Mom a gentle pat on the arm.

I didn’t want to make us any later than traffic might. So I pulled my keys out of my pocket.

Mom, we have to go. I’ll lend you my keys and come help find yours after our meeting. Since we lived together, the house key was the same. And I also kept a key to the crystal shop on my keyring. If she had to close the shop, she could lock up.

I went behind the counter and picked up her multi-colored velvet patchwork bag. Underneath, a crystal winked in the light.

Mom, I found your keys.

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Our potential clients, Maximillian and Alina Kearns, didn’t live in just any seaside house. Their house was a mansion.

Where did their money come from? I asked Odette as we pulled up in front of the grand façade.

Steel. He’s from a minor branch of the steel baron Kearnses.

Who knew there was so much money in metal.

Odette gave me her little half smile. I guess she knew. When she wasn’t in the kitchen whipping up marvelous new recipes, she had her nose in a book. Sometimes it seemed like she knew everything.

Before we went inside, I took a deep breath of salty sea air. I could hear the waves breaking and gulls screaming. It was the sound of my childhood.

Indoors, the sound-proofing was total. I could make out a faint hum of electronics, but nothing from outside. If you ask me, it’s a little strange to live right on the coast if you’re not going to enjoy all of the ambience. But rich people can be eccentric.

The room where we met Alina Kearns was all polished marble and opulent leather sofas with ocean views. She swept into the room on designer heels. Her perfume was sweet, heavy, and a little old fashioned.

I have very high expectations for this dinner party, she said in an Eastern European accent. I hope you’re up to it.

I started to answer, but she wasn’t finished.

This could be a good opportunity for your little business. Our regular caterer cancelled on us. She rolled her eyes. Something about a death in the family.

Odette and I snuck a glance at each other.

If you do well, we may just keep you on. We value loyalty.

A smart-alec answer to that stuck in my throat, and I coughed.

Of course, I said. And I’m confident you’ll love our food and our service.

She gave me a skeptical look. Let me show you to the kitchen.

We followed her out of the grand room with its ocean views. I spied a lovely kitchen done all in white, but she didn’t stop there. She led us down a half flight of stairs and around a corner into a room not intended for guests.

It was a kitchen. That much is true. But it was in every way the opposite of the rest of the house. Cheap cabinets, cheap overhead lighting, scuffed linoleum floors.

This is the service kitchen. There is a service entrance down that hall. You are to use that entrance.

I was a little ruffled by her tone. But it sounded like we had the job if we wanted it. And we did need the gig. Our original booking had been cancelled at the last minute after the initial deposit check bounced. We’d already bought ingredients and supplies.

We brought samples, I said. Would you like to taste them in here or…

I don’t eat in here, Alina snapped. You can plate them and bring them up to me.

With that she went back to her part of the house.

We got to work. In minutes we both had a plate in each hand. We carried them back