Page 49 of Cruel Hearts

“They’re members of the cooking club. Neither of them were at breakfast this morning and spent their time making food for the tuck shop to sell at lunchtime.”

My brows drew together. “So?”

“Herbert and Williams are scholarship students,” said Orlando. “They would have used that cash to buy the ingredients.”

Maxwell and I exchanged confused glances. This really wasn’t a big deal.

Orlando huffed. “It was a spicy, vegetarian curry with cauliflower rice.”

My tongue darted out to lick my lips. The last time I’d been to an Indian restaurant was two weeks before I got stabby with Sammy. Cauliflower rice was zero calories and zero carbs. If spiced properly, I could see it being popular.

I raised both shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Then why are they refusing to sell any to the boys?” asked Orlando.

Maxwell rubbed his chin. “Now, that’s peculiar.”

“There were a few portions left. Ken and I wanted to buy them, but the boys said it was girls only. One of my spies reported that they took the money over to Elizabeth, who kept most of it to herself.”

“Even if she invested in their venture, it doesn’t make sense that they would do all that work and have her take the profits,” said Orlando.

For the first time since finding Elizabeth’s winning stub, I felt like I had a way to get even. There was more to that curry than its low-calorie content, and I couldn’t wait to uncover Elizabeth’s dirty secret.

My lips broke into a grin. “I’m joining the cooking club.”

Chapter 18

Early the following Monday at the end of my suspension, I wheeled a borrowed case through the academy’s hallway, unlocked the door of my room and glanced around. The cleaners had changed the sheets and given the space a thorough clean, but the yeasty musk of large dogs hung in the air.

Shivers prickled over my skin as memories of Billy Hancock dangling me over his dogs mingled with the sight and feel and smell of that German Shepherd pinning me to the bed. This was no longer my haven. Elizabeth had tainted it with her police raid and planted drugs.

I strode to the sash window and pulled it open. Cold, juniper-scented air swirled into the warm room, chilling the outer layer of my skin.

Next, I strode into the bathroom, plugged the bath, turned on the taps, and poured the rest of my lemon shower gel under the stream of hot water.

If that didn’t get rid of the smell of dogs, I might have to return to Mr. Burgh’s quarters.

Cooking club was on the other side of the academy building in a room next to the kitchens. It was half the size of the dining room with about twelve stainless-steel cooking stations of an electric hob, oven, and worktop. In the middle stood a massive table with its own oven and hob, which I assumed the teacher used for demonstrations. This was so fancy compared to my old school.

A plump woman with a mop of red, orphan-Annie curls approached from the classroom side. “Miss Hancock.” From her creased brow and the way she clasped her hands over her belly, she had likely heard about my arrest. “How may I help you?”

“I’d like to join the cooking club.”

Her shrill laugh grated on my nerves. “What sort of thing would you like to cook?”

My lips tightened. She didn’t have to look at me like I wanted to cook crystal meth.

“Scottish dishes,” I said. “Until recently, I thought I was English, but I’ve just discovered I have a Scottish grandfather who’s a widower, and he mentioned that my grandmother used to make something out of potatoes and flour…”

I let my words hang in the air while calculations ran through her watery, brown eyes. Part of me felt like Elizabeth, invoking my family connections to achieve my ends, but I kicked that part to the curb and reminded it of my mission. I needed to know how those two boys’ and their vegetarian curry connected with Elizabeth’s theft of the collection money.

The teacher’s eyes widened. “Oh, I see. Would you like to be able to make tattie scones?”

“I’m so ignorant of Scottish cuisine that I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

With another of those shrill laughs, she directed me to the cooking station closest to her and brought over a pack of flour and an armful of potatoes.

Herbert and Williams walked in carrying two bulging shopping bags and took the station furthest away from us both. I slid off the stool and picked up my bag.