“Did you see anyone on your way to your room?”

“No.” Mavis slowly shook her head. “I didn’t see a soul. But I thought I heard someone in Violet’s room. I’m right between Violet and Lucille.”

Mac and I looked at each other and I raised an eyebrow. Who would have been in that room?

“What, exactly, did you hear?” I said.

“Just a couple of thumps. I guess it could have been anything—even that white cat that keeps jumping out at people.”

Mavis’s mouth pulled downward into a frown. “I can’t say I liked Clarissa at all. We had a bit of . . . history, but it always makes me very sad when a young life is wasted.” She dabbed at a tear in the corner of her eye. Before I had a chance to react to what she had said, she spotted another loose string and went after it. Mac held up his hand to stop her.

“Okay, thank you,” Mac said. “We appreciate your help. Let us know if you think of anything else.” He stood up and backed away from her.

I thought it was one of his fastest interviews on record and suspected he regretted accepting her offer of a warm sweater.

“I wish I could have been more helpful,” Mavis said. She lunged for another string, but I stepped between them and walked her to the door.

11

Mavis reluctantly left, casting an adoring glance toward Mac on her way out of the dining room. Mac kept his eyes on his notebook. Once the room was empty, we decided to try to catch the kitchen staff while they were still cleaning up from breakfast.

Mac walked into the kitchen and came out with the chef. René wore white from head to toe including one of those tall hats—not quite Chef Boyardee, but not subtle, either.

He sat and nodded at us. “I’m sorry your vacation has been ruined. I heard you were on your way out of this winter weather,” he said. “But from a selfish standpoint, I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t taken charge.”

His accent was less pronounced than it had been the day before, or maybe I was getting used to it.

I grimaced and nodded. “We’ll do our best to figure out what happened.”

“How can I help?” He spread his hands out, palms up.

“Can you remember what you were doing last evening during dinner and afterward when the lights went out?” I asked.

René took a deep breath. “Of course. Obviously, I was short staffed due to the weather.” He waved his arm in the direction of the windows, which showed a bright white sky and piles of snow. “Jessica sent most of the staff home yesterday when the weather started to get bad. They all have families to get home to, so she took volunteers.”

“And you volunteered?” Mac asked.

René turned pink. “Actually, I live here. Jessica and I are engaged. First, she fell in love with my cooking, then she fell in love with me.” He grinned. “The family quarters are fairly spacious, so I stay with her most nights. I have a small apartment in town, but I haven’t seen it in a week.”

Mac sat back in his chair. “So, who volunteered to stay?”

“Well, Emmett is a single guy and he practically lives here anyway,” René said. “He’s a good worker and he wants his own restaurant someday. Kirk is also single and his boss had to get home to his wife. We had one housekeeper stay—there are only three of them and I think they drew straws.”

“Where does the staff sleep in a situation like this?” I asked, thinking of my own rooming situation.

“We have a couple of small rooms in the basement that we use for emergencies. They were originally for the servants when the house was built. Staying there for a night or two is one thing. I can’t imagine living there.” He wrinkled his nose.

“Back to last night,” Mac said. “Can you tell us where you were?”

“Right, sorry. Emmett and I made dinner. Fortunately, with this knitter convention, I knew ahead of time how many people I would be feeding for the weekend, so I’d purchased enough food to last. But, as you know, we still decided to limit choices to be sure the food would stretch and we wouldn’t end up serving grilled cheese sandwiches by the end of the weekend.”

He shuddered dramatically at the thought of grilled cheese. We waited for him to continue.

“I helped serve the meal, and then went down to the freezer to get the ice cream to go with the tarte tatin. I had just returned to the kitchen when the lights went out.”

“We have a witness who went looking for you during that time. She couldn’t find you and said that Emmett didn’t know where you were.”

René shrugged. “I don’t know why he would have said that. He knew where I went.”

“Did you see anyone while you were in the basement?” I asked.

René shook his head no. “I just went to get the ice cream and came back. I didn’t see anyone.”

“What did you do when the lights went out?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, it happens more than we would like so we have a protocol in place. Emmett and I checked the thermometers in the fridges and freezers and recorded it in the log. Sometimes it takes a little while to get the generator working so I keep track of the temp to be sure things aren’t defrosting and refreezing. Emmett grumbles, but I like to be safe. The health inspector is a stickler and having everything documented shows that I run a tight ship.” He sat back and his accent got a bit thicker. “Plus, I am attempting to have the restaurant rated by Michelin. I don’t want anything to interfere.”

“So you and Emmett were together the whole time that the lights were out?” Mac asked.

René nodded. “We were busy trying to stack dishes and get organized in the dark—we had a couple of portable lanterns. We heard noise in the hall and Wallace came to tell us about Clarissa—I went to find Jess and that’s when I met you in the hall.”

Mac reached out to shake his hand.

“Thanks for your time. Will you ask Emmett to come talk to us?”

After René had gone through the kitchen door, Mac said, “What do you think?”

“It seems reasonable, but he doesn’t have an alibi for the time of the murder. We’ll have to see what Emmett says about how long he was gone.”

Emmett greeted us with a wide smile and a wave from the door. He was tall and lanky with short brown hair. He also wore kitchen whites but had left the hat in the kitchen. He sat in the chair that had been vacated by René.

“René told me you’re talking to people about last night. I’m happy to help.” He sat back in his chair and crossed his arms.

“As you probably know, we’re treating Clarissa’s death as suspicious. We’re just trying to get a picture of what happened,” Mac said. “Can you tell us what you were doing during dinner and after the power went out?”

Emmett sat forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “First, René and I served the dinner. It got pretty hectic since Wally was our substitute server and he had never been a waiter before.”

Mac and I grimaced.

“We hardly noticed,” Mac said.

Emmett chuckled and lifted one shoulder and let it drop. “He tried his best, but it’s not an easy job. Fortunately, he seems to have charmed all the knitters and no one complained.”

I waited for him to continue.

“Then, once everyone seemed settled out here I went back into the kitchen to start preparing the dessert. It was going to be tarte tatin and ice cream. René went downstairs to get the ice cream and then just as he got back, the power went out. He has a list of things we need to do in the kitchen if the power goes, so we turned on our lanterns and got to work.” He sat back and laced his fingers over his knee.

“Did you see anyone else in the halls or the kitchen?”

“One of the guests came through looking for René but I told her he was gone and she went out through the hallway door. I didn’t see her again until this morning at breakfast.”