Chapter 12
Rest in the Pan
Recipe Tip: Ten minutes. Don't touch it.
By noon, the Harvest Festival had reached the stage where nobody walked anywhere.
They drifted.
From cider to pie.
From pie to music.
From music to the craft stalls.
Children carried enormous cotton-candy clouds.
Parents carried exhausted children.
And somewhere near the gazebo, a man dressed as a giant pumpkin was losing an argument with a toddler.
Tessa watched from behind the bakery stall.
For the first time all morning, she almost felt normal.
Almost.
Then she saw Renata Voss.
The celebrity chef stood beside the charity auction tent wearing sunglasses and a cream coat that probably cost more than Tessa's first year's bakery rent.
She was talking to someone from the historical society.
Tessa looked at Dani.
Dani followed her gaze.
"Oh."
"Yes."
"Are you going over there?"
"I have to."
"Do you?"
Tessa touched the blue injector cap beneath her apron.
"Yes."
Dani sighed.
"At least take Pretzel."
Tessa looked beneath the table.
Pretzel was asleep.
"He's useless."
Dani smiled.
"He's useful when he wants to be."
Tessa walked toward the auction tent.
Renata spotted her.
Her expression immediately soured.
"Not again."
Tessa stopped.
"Hello to you too."
"I've already answered your questions."
"Not all of them."
Renata sighed.
"What now?"
"You lied to me."
Renata's sunglasses lowered slightly.
"I did no such thing."
"You said you were here Wednesday morning."
"I was."
"You checked into the Larkspur Inn Tuesday night."
Renata went still.
Tessa pulled out the hotel receipt.
Renata stared at it.
"Where did you get that?"
"Your cat stole it."
Renata blinked.
"Your cat?"
"Long story."
Renata looked toward the bakery stall.
Pretzel was sitting on the table.
Watching them.
Renata stared at him.
"I don't like that animal."
"He's not particularly concerned."
Renata looked back at Tessa.
"You think this proves something?"
"It proves you were here Tuesday night."
"I never denied that."
"You said you were here Wednesday morning."
"I was."
"Why didn't you mention Tuesday?"
"Because I didn't think it mattered."
"It matters to me."
Renata sighed.
"Fine."
She lowered her voice.
"I came early because I had a meeting."
"With whom?"
"I don't remember."
Tessa stared.
"You don't remember?"
"It was late."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"No."
Renata took off her sunglasses.
"I came to meet a buyer."
Tessa's pulse quickened.
"Buyer for what?"
Renata looked around.
"Knives."
There it was.
"Whose knives?"
Renata didn't answer.
"Garrick's?"
She nodded.
"How many?"
"Two."
"Did Garrick know?"
"He knew I bought them."
"And resold them?"
Renata's jaw tightened.
"Yes."
"At a markup."
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because people wanted them."
"And Garrick cut you off."
"Yes."
"Because you were reselling his work."
"Yes."
Renata looked away.
"It wasn't illegal."
"No."
"But Garrick hated it."
"Apparently."
"He said his knives weren't commodities."
Tessa remembered Bertie.
Homage knives.
Cash buyers.
The ledger.
"What happened to the two knives?"
Renata's face tightened.
"I sold them."
"To whom?"
"I don't know."
"You don't know?"
"Private clients."
"Names?"
"Confidential."
Tessa stared at her.
Renata sighed.
"You're very persistent."
"I'm learning."
Renata gave her a tired smile.
"Fine. I sold one to a chef in Boston. The other went through a charity auction."
Tessa froze.
"Which charity?"
"The Larkspur Historical Society."
Tessa looked toward the auction tent.
"That auction?"
"Yes."
"How long ago?"
"Six months."
Tessa's mind raced.
"Do you have proof?"
Renata reached into her handbag.
She pulled out a credit-card receipt.
Then a hotel card.
She handed both to Tessa.
"The card proves I was in another county Wednesday morning."
Tessa looked at it.
The location was stamped in Burlington County.
The timestamp was 10:12 a.m.
Wednesday.
Tessa looked up.
"You weren't here."
"No."
"You were in another county."
"Yes."
"That means you couldn't have been at Garrick's forge at nine-thirty."
"No."
Tessa handed the card back.
Renata put it away.
"I told you I didn't kill him."
Tessa nodded.
"I believe you."
Renata looked surprised.
"Already?"
"The evidence matters."
Renata smiled faintly.
"You're learning."
Tessa glanced toward the auction display.
A velvet-covered table held several knives beneath glass.
Each one had a certificate beside it.
Tessa moved closer.
"Are those Garrick's?"
Renata followed.
"Some."
"Some?"
Renata pointed.
"That one."
A long chef's knife.
"Definitely Garrick."
She pointed to another.
"That one too."
Tessa moved to the third.
Renata frowned.
"No."
"What?"
"That's wrong."
Tessa looked at the certificate.
THORNE FORGE — HAND-FORGED CHEF'S BLADE
"What's wrong with it?"
"The certificate."
"How?"
"Garrick never used that seal."
Tessa looked closer.
There was a small emblem in the corner.
A wolf's head.
"Are you sure?"
"Very."
"Why?"
"Because Garrick's certificates had a hammer."
Tessa looked at the others.
Some had hammers.
Others had wolves.
She felt cold.
"How many are fake?"
Renata didn't answer.
Tessa turned toward the historical society volunteer.
"Who provided these?"
The woman smiled nervously.
"Garrick Thorne."
"All of them?"
"That's what the paperwork says."
Tessa looked at Renata.
Renata shook her head.
"Garrick would never use that seal."
"Then someone did."
Renata's face changed.
"How many?"
Tessa counted.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Six knives.
The exact number Desmond had mentioned at the committee meeting.
Her heart began pounding.
"These are the auction knives."
Renata nodded.
"And at least some aren't Garrick's."
Tessa stared at the certificates.
The ledger numbers.
The charity auctions.
Bertie's homage knives.
Renata's resale business.
It was beginning to form a pattern.
Someone wasn't merely copying Garrick.
Someone was selling counterfeit Thorne knives.
Tessa whispered:
"Who?"
Renata looked toward the crowd.
"I don't know."
"Does Garrick?"
"He did."
Tessa turned sharply.
"What?"
Renata lowered her voice.
"He confronted me about the auctions."
"When?"
"Two weeks ago."
"What did he say?"
"He asked where I'd gotten one of the knives."
"And?"
"I told him I'd bought it from a broker."
"What did he do?"
"He got angry."
"Why?"
"He said the knife wasn't his."
Tessa's pulse raced.
"What did he say after that?"
Renata hesitated.
"He said someone was using his name."
Tessa looked toward the auction table.
"Did he know who?"
"I don't think so."
"But he was investigating."
"Yes."
Tessa thought about the torn ledger.
The serial numbers.
Knives Garrick sold.
Knives he never sold.
The forged certificates.
Bertie's secret buyer.
Someone had been building a fake inventory.
Someone had been attaching Garrick's name to knives he had never made.
And someone had enough access to his records to make the forgery convincing.
Tessa looked at Renata.
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
Renata's face tightened.
"Because I was already worried they'd blame me."
"You were reselling his knives."
"Exactly."
Tessa understood.
Renata had a motive to stay quiet.
But she also had something else.
Fear.
"What happened the last time you spoke to Garrick?"
Renata looked down.
"He told me he'd found something."
"What?"
"I don't know."
"You're sure?"
"He wouldn't tell me."
"What did he say?"
Renata looked toward the forge road.
"He said that if the person behind it realized he'd found the records..."
She stopped.
Tessa waited.
"What?"
Renata swallowed.
"He said someone would come looking for him."
A chill moved through Tessa.
Garrick hadn't been merely dealing with angry customers.
He had discovered a counterfeit knife operation.
And someone had been afraid he would expose it.
Tessa looked again at the six auction knives.
The certificates looked official.
The numbers looked convincing.
But they weren't Garrick's.
Not all of them.
She thought of the ledger.
The page she'd found.
The numbers.
The knives he had sold.
And the knives he had never sold.
The missing pages suddenly mattered more than ever.
Someone had been selling knives under Garrick's name.
Knives Garrick never made.
And if Garrick had discovered the truth—
perhaps his murder hadn't been about a personal grudge at all.
Perhaps it had been about money.
Tessa stepped back from the auction table.
Renata touched her arm.
"You see it now, don't you?"
Tessa looked at her.
"See what?"
Renata's eyes moved toward the forged certificates.
"Why someone needed Garrick silent."
Tessa looked down at the blue cap beneath her apron.
Then at the auction knives.
The mystery had just changed.
This wasn't simply a murder.
Someone had built an entire business around Garrick's name.
And Garrick had gotten in the way.