Pinewood Corner Kitchen Chapter 2
Gabriella spent another hour or so at headquarters before she and Graham headed out. There wasn’t much to prepare for the case. They’d be interviewing the owners of Pinewood Corner Kitchen, which described itself as an “elite home for upscale home cooking that is nourishing, exciting, and just delicious to eat.” As tempted as she was to spend time on their website first, she didn’t want it to color her first impressions of its owners, so she waited.
James and Bradley had left a few minutes after Bradley hung up with Captain Fournier. While they drove over, Madelyn and Graham had left to run a quick errand. Leaving Gabriella and Amelia alone at headquarters.
“So,” Gabriella said as she came back into the living room, where Amelia was working at one of the computers.
“So what?”
“So are you happy to not be captain anymore?”
Amelia laughed and let out a sigh. “Oh my God, I might actually sleep tonight,” she said.
“You should take some time off. Like a vacation. Have you heard of those?”
“Fuck off,” Amelia said. “No, I’ve been kind of thinking about it though. Jolene was talking about her trip and I was so focused on the transition that I didn’t really think about it. But now that she’s gone, I’m jealous.”
Jolene Oliver, the Foundation doctor assigned out here (though apparently not their team’s doctor for much longer, for reasons Gabriella wasn’t quite sure about) was up in Maine for the week with her son. Gabriella had forgotten that Jolene had mentioned she had a kid until she’d shown up at headquarters with him a few weeks ago. He’d been adorable, telling Gabriella all about what he was working on in Legos at his dad’s house until Jolene had let him go outside to play. And then the next thing she’d known, Jolene was racing through the house, clearly in tears and quickly followed by James. And while he wouldn’t tell her what they’d talked about, it was clear that there was a lot more there than Gabriella had realized. Hopefully this trip would help with whatever was wrong.
“You should do it,” she said. “Take Riley somewhere romantic for the weekend.”
Gabriella didn’t particularly like Riley, who was Amelia’s girlfriend and an agent at a different branch. Riley had not been particularly supportive of Amelia during her time as interim captain. But Amelia did like her, so that was what mattered. And Gabriella had plenty of experience having a significant other that the team didn’t like, so she could have some sympathy here and try to keep her feelings to herself.
Amelia shrugged. “Maybe,” she said. “Maybe during the fall. Alright, I have to finish these reports. Because I’m no longer captain and maybe I might actually finish them.”
Gabriella didn’t have any reports to do, so she went to find the chore roster and maybe even get her assigned chores done before she left.
***
The Pinewood Corner Kitchen headquarters was in the beautiful Pinewood Corner neighborhood in Holden, a small town about thirty minutes south of Leominster. Gabriella and Graham drove through neighborhoods full of carefully landscaped yards, tall pines, and cute boutiques housed in historic buildings before passing through a few long stretches of woods that led up to the mansion the Chapmans worked out of.
“This is where the class was at,” Graham said. “God, I can’t believe we’re working a case for them.”
“What are they like?” Gabriella asked as he pulled into a parking space by the front door.
“Very cool,” Graham replied. “They’re just really creative, interesting people, you know? It was something totally different from what we do at work every day. Not that you guys aren’t creative or interesting,” he added quickly. “It’s just…”
“Not ghosts?” Gabriella finished.
Graham laughed. “Exactly.”
A burst of pine-scented air greeted them as they got out of the car. Gabriella was relieved that the flip in her stomach that normally greeted towering pines and that scent, especially in springtime, was minimal right now. She pushed it aside easily and followed Graham to the building.
When they got to the front door, Gabriella rang the bell and looked around as they waited. There was a lot of money here, that was obvious. Everything in the front yard was either antique or brand new and designed to appear antique. The property backed up against a forest, but it was likely they owned a large portion of the forest because she could see how carefully cultivated it was and how smoothly the yard joined the trees.
“Does food blogging make a lot of money?” Gabriella asked.
“The Chapmans do,” Graham said. “But it’s incredibly competitive. So there’s a ton of sites that never actually get anywhere, or only make a little bit of money. But Pinewood Corner Kitchen has really broken away from that and built it up into its own thing.”
“How do they-”
The door opened, interrupting Gabriella before she could get more nosy about money. A woman was standing there. She was probably fifty or so, with curly gray hair that spilled down over her shoulders. She wore a soft cardigan and worn designer jeans, as well as green plastic-framed glasses. She looked like a college professor, which Gabriella guessed was both appropriate and intentional.
“Hi,” Gabriella said.
“Hi?” the woman said cautiously, looking around. “We don’t have any classes scheduled today.”
“No, we’re here from the Foundation for Paranormal Studies,” Gabriella said. “I’m Gabriella, this is Graham.”
The woman laughed, looking embarrassed. “Right,” she said, holding a delicate hand to her head in a slightly theatrical move. “I’m sorry, yes, I knew you were coming. I just remember you from last night,” she said to Graham. “I thought maybe you were signed up for another class.”
She glanced at Gabriella, a quick, appraising look that didn’t seem complimentary to either her or Graham. “Nope,” Gabriella said. “We’re here to discuss your case.”
“Of course, come on in.”
She held the door open for Gabriella and Graham. “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked as she led them down a short hallway that opened into an industrial kitchen.
“I’m fine, thanks,” Gabriella said.
“You’re sure?” the woman asked. “Tea? Coffee? I’m having a coffee.”
“I’ll have a coffee then too, please.”
“Me too,” Graham added.
He seemed nervous, but in a starstruck way. The woman motioned for them to sit down at one of the large metal tables underneath a glittering chandelier. Gabriella struggled slightly to get into the high stool and she could see Graham, who was a little shorter than her, doing the same. Were these the seats they used at the class? She couldn’t see Madelyn having an easy time with these.
The woman came back with a tray holding their coffees and a plate of cookies. She took a moment to meticulously arrange things before sitting back down and sipping her coffee, looking at Gabriella and Graham.
Gabriella took a sip of her coffee and had to admit that the theatrics were worth it. This might be the best cup of coffee she’d ever had. And not just because she survived mostly off of the jet fuel Bradley brewed back at headquarters. She took a cookie as the woman – who must have been Jan Chapman – waited expectantly. And sure enough, incredible.
“These are fantastic,” Gabriella said, both because it was true and because Jan seemed to be expecting it.
“Thank you,” Jan said. “They’re honey and rosemary shortbread cookies. Those are from our upcoming cookbook, the recipe hasn’t shown up on the site yet.”
“I was just wondering that,” Graham said as he set the remaining half of his cookie on a napkin. “I’ve made most of the cookie recipes you have on there and didn’t recognize this one.”
The woman’s face lit up. “You read our website!”
“I love it,” Graham said. “I’ve made so many of your recipes lately.”
“I thought maybe your girlfriend had dragged you along,” Jan said, and Graham’s face fell a little. “But it’s nice to know you’re a fan.”
Maybe Gabriella was judgmental, but this woman irritated her. But before she could explore that feeling or open her mouth and confirm it, there were footsteps in the hall and a tall, slim man with thinning brown hair, wearing khakis and a fitted teal shirt, walked in. “I thought I heard voices down here,” he said cheerfully.
“Steve, these are the representatives from the Foundation for Paranormal Studies,” Jan said. “This is Gabriella and Graham. Graham was at our dinner course last night.”
“Ah, I remember you,” Steve said, shaking Graham’s hand firmly between both of his own. “Back for more?”
Graham laughed, seemingly unsure how to respond. “We’re here about your request with the Foundation,” Gabriella said.
“Of course,” Steve said, sitting down beside Jan. “What do we need to do?”
“Let’s start with you telling us the whole story. Do you mind if we record?”
They both hesitated. “We’ll need you to sign an NDA first,” Steve said finally.
Absolutely not. Gabriella was not signing any legal documents for a client. That was up there with the Foundation wanting her to sign a vague waiver in order to access the archives necessary for her job, just weeks after her cousin was attacked and badly hurt due to the Foundation’s negligence.
She glanced over at Graham, who also seemed unsure what to do. She wished she had someone on comms right now. “I need to call our captain,” she said. “A non-disclosure agreement isn’t usually part of an investigation.”
“Understood,” Jan said, some of the effusive warmth draining from her tone now. Not much, but enough that Gabriella could sense it. “But you understand the necessity of keeping these conversations quiet.”
“If the wrong people got their hands on our personal information, it could be devastating,” Steve added. “We’ve already had enough problems with what’s going on, we can’t add to it.”
So they were going to talk cryptically about their problem without actually providing any context. This explained the lack of information from the Foundation before now.
“Understood,” Gabriella echoed Jan. “Graham, I’m going to go give James a call, alright?”
It felt so good to say that again, as much as this situation was becoming more and more irritating. “That’s fine,” Graham said. “Do you need me?”
He could have a few minutes with his heroes, who were rapidly becoming less appealing to Gabriella. “No, I’ll just go out to the car,” she said.
“So Graham says he’s the cook from the pair,” Jan told Steve.
“My girlfriend is too,” he said quickly as Gabriella slid out of her seat. “She really likes baking. She’s the one who got me the tickets for my birthday. Gabriella cooks too.”
“That’s interesting,” Steve said in the least interested tone she’d ever heard as she left the kitchen.
Gabriella walked down the hallway back to the front door and went outside into the cool June morning, hoping the door wasn’t about to slam shut behind her. She called James, leaning against one of the pillars on the front porch as she waited.
“Gabs, hey,” James said as he answered. “What’s up?”
There was the sound of something crashing behind him. “Is everything okay?” she asked.
“Fine,” James said. “The Harrity ghost is a little more intense than we thought and the cleansing just pissed it off.”
She heard Bradley swearing behind him. “I can call back,” she said.
“No, it’s fine,” James assured her. “What’s up?”
“It’s not fucking fine,” Bradley snapped.
“The Chapmans want us to sign a non-disclosure agreement,” she said. “What do I do?”
“You don’t sign it,” Bradley said.
“I asked James,” she snapped back, even if her instinct was that he was right.
“Will they give you anything without it?” James asked.
“Only a few cryptic hints,” she replied. “Nothing I can actually work with. Lots of ‘the things that are happening’ or ‘the events’ but no details unless I sign.”
James sighed. “You can’t sign it anyway,” he said. “You’re there as a representative of the Foundation, so it’s messy if you sign it on your own behalf. Did you see the agreement?”
“No, I said I was going to call you before we did anything.”
“Right,” he said. “Is there any chance they’ll talk to you without it?”
“I can try, but I doubt it.”
“If they will, then do it. But if they don’t, then leave,” James said. “You don’t have the authority to sign legal documents on behalf of the Foundation and I don’t want you in that situation anyway. So tell them that, unfortunately, we can’t continue without the information and if they have any questions, contact their representative at the Foundation. Not me. Do not tell them to contact me.”
“They’re going to anyway,” Bradley said as something crashed behind them again.
“Probably, yeah.”
“I’m so sick of dealing with contracts,” Gabriella muttered. “Alright, I’ll try and let you know.”
“DUCK!” James yelled as something crashed nearby. “Yeah, thanks Gabs. See you later!”
He hung up, leaving her alone in the much more tranquil silence of Pinewood Corner. She could hear a few cars on streets nearby and see the other houses on neighboring lots, but all of them were muffled or partly hidden by the forest around her. She took one last deep breath of pine-scented air and went back inside.
In the kitchen, Graham was excitedly telling the Chapmans about his and Madelyn’s attempts to get through all the desserts in their most recent cookbook. They both smiled as they listened, but Gabriella couldn’t help feeling that it wasn’t his excitement that was so satisfying, but having someone so openly praising their work.
But again, maybe Gabriella was being judgmental and cold and had spent entirely too much time paired with Bradley in the field lately. So she put on a professional smile as she came back in.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t sign any legal paperwork,” she said as the Chapmans’ smiles immediately faded. “We’re here as representatives for the Foundation for Paranormal Studies and we don’t have the right to make deals on their behalf.”
“It’s only an NDA,” Jan said with a falsely cheerful laugh. “We’re not negotiating anything, we’re just protecting our business assets.”
“I understand,” Gabriella said, hoping Graham would jump in soon.
And he did. “If our captain said we can’t, then, unfortunately, we don’t have the ability to do that,” he said.
“Can you tell us anything about your situation without the NDA?” Gabriella asked. “Anything that might help us get started?”
“No,” Steve said simply, all the warm hospitality gone from his voice.
They weren’t on comms right now. Not that she expected to be attacked here in this kitchen, but she was too conscious of that fact. They were only doing an interview, which was an acceptable time to be off comms, even by Bradley’s standards, which were much higher than the Foundation’s official ones. But she wanted someone else to be listening in on them.
“I understand, you didn’t get successful giving away industry secrets,” Graham said with a warmth that she didn’t think these people deserved from him. “Unfortunately, we can’t really do anything with the information we’ve already been given. There’s not enough there.”
“That’s as much as we’re willing to provide without anyone signing a non-disclosure,” said Jan.
“I’ll let James know,” Gabriella said, sliding back out of her chair and heading toward the door.
As she left, she heard Steve say, “Graham, right?”
“Right.”
“Listen, if you just want to sign this really quickly, we can get started. If your partner’s being unreasonable about it.”
Gabriella froze just beyond the door. “She’s following protocol,” Graham said carefully.
“Right, of course,” Steve said quickly. “We just understand how things can be with all the red tape getting in the way.”
As though it wasn’t their own red tape causing the problem. She wanted to go in and just say they were done, but that wasn’t her call either. If she wanted that to be her call, she’d have to become a captain. Which might be the least appealing thing Gabriella had ever heard.
She went outside again and called James. “Hey,” he said, sounding slightly less stressed than he had before, with a much quieter background.
“No luck,” she said. “They’re refusing to talk. And they tried to get Graham to sign it when I left to talk to you.”
She wanted to tattle about the “unreasonable” comment, but didn’t. “Then it’s done,” James said. “Tell them unfortunately you can’t do the job without the information, so we’re wrapping up here. If they have any questions or maybe change their minds, they don’t come to us, they go to the intake representative they were working with.”
Good. That was what she’d been hoping he’d say. “Thanks,” she said. “How’s Harrity?”
“Just about done,” James said. “I’m just waiting for Bradley to finish charming the homeowners.”
“I’ll leave you to it, then.”
When she got back inside, the tension was thick. “Unfortunately, there’s nothing else we can do here,” Gabriella said.
“What do you mean?” Jan demanded, that sweet, absent-minded professor demeanor gone now.
“I mean, if you aren’t able to give us the information we need in order to help you with your problem, then we can’t help with your problem,” Gabriella replied, doing her best to keep her voice coolly professional. “If you have any questions or change your mind, please reach out to your intake representative.”
“We’re being attacked by targeted psychic forces and you’re not going to do anything about it?”
“We can’t with the information you’ve given us,” Graham said. “Unfortunately, we need a lot more. And if you’re unable to give it, then we can’t investigate.”
Graham got up from the table as the Chapmans looked at each other. Gabriella waited for them to say anything, but they were quiet, having a silent conversation between themselves. “Thank you for your time,” Gabriella said.
She looked at Graham, nodding toward the door. The Chapmans didn’t say anything as they left.
