why he was there and told him so regularly. She understood the dangers outside wrought iron fences and brick walls. More often than she liked to think, Roy had deterred the unsavory and the curious from finding her. It pleased her to see Lucy’s old green Suburban and the cars of friends in the drive. Miami had been miserable, and sometimes snow made Scarpetta lonely. The thought of company lifted her mood.
She unlocked the front door and walked inside the foyer, setting luggage on the hardwood floor.
“We’re in here,” Lucy called out.
“Welcome home!”
“Thanks for letting us stay!”
Scarpetta followed cheery voices into the great room, where the women were still worthless around the fire, their pistols and other weapons out in plain view Blankets, pillows, beer bottles, and whiskey tumblers were a mess on the rug.
“All of us slept in here last night,” Lucy explained to her aunt.
“Sounds like fun,” Scarpetta said.
“Too much fun.”
“The cookies are what did it.”
“Try what they were dipped in. That’s what did it.”
“Dr. Scarpetta, we’ll clean up our mess and be on our way. Thanks again.”
“Don’t rush off because of me,” she said. “The roads will be freezing soon, and
it looks like it might snow again. I don’t think any of you need to be in your cars.” She meant this for reasons other than the weather.
“We’ve been good so far today,” Lucy assured her. “Just coffee and diet sodas. But you’re right.” She looked at her friends. “I don’t think you guys need to be heading back north.”
Scarpetta glanced at her watch. It was not quite 3 P.M. There was just enough time to make her famous stew
SCARPETTA’S FAMOUS STEW
The sine qua non is a restaurant-size pot capable of holding twenty quarts. Usually-and this day was no exception-Scarpetta had two going at once, as the abundance of ingredients she used simply could not be contained in a single vessel. Meat was her first priority and she pulled ground turkey, cubed tenderloin trimmed of all fat, veal, and chicken breasts from the freezer. These she placed in the microwave oven to thaw Unlike Marino, she did not rush the process. There was plenty else to do.
Over Lucy’s protests, Annie Lennox and Meat Loaf were replaced by Pachelbel, Beethoven, and Mozart. Scarpetta opened two bottles of red table wine and began raiding her refrigerator, cupboards, and pantry for whatever her imagination seized upon. Without a doubt, the most important clue when making Scarpetta’s stew is that the essence of it comes from her; the rest belongs to you. Use what you have and make the best of it, but as is true of any homicide case, it’s only as good as the evidence brought in. So if you’re stingy with your time and what you invest in your stew, what you cook is what you’ll get.
Without question, this spectacularly hearty and loving dish requires work. Scarpetta tied an apron around her waist and began chopping Vidalia onions, red and yellow and green bell peppers, fresh oregano, basil, and parsley. She sliced baby carrots, squash, asparagus, fresh mushrooms, and pulled the strings from snow peas. Peeled Hanover tomatoes she had canned herself were not something she parted with every day, for once they were gone there were no more until summer. She pried off lids and mixed them and everything else in a huge glass bowl. She painstakingly peeled husks from the cloves of two large garlic bulbs and got to work with the garlic press. This, and salt and fresh ground pepper she stirred in with the vegetables.
She poured no more than a tablespoon of olive oil into each pot and turned the heat to medium. By now the meat was thawed enough to work with, and she crumbled equal shares of ground turkey into each pot and cut the tenderloin and chicken into small pieces. While this browned, she began opening jars of V-8 juice and cans of tomato sauce. It is important to note that the three most important elements in her stew are the tomato base, garlic, and red wine. These should be used liberally to taste, but without an extravagant amount of each, the stew will not bear Scarpetta’s signature.