“I’m excited about how it’s all coming together.” I grinned at Dixie as we packed everything into a cardboard portfolio.
“I’m always a little amazed at this stage,” she confessed. “It’s a bit like a recipe you haven’t tried. All the ingredients are there, but you aren’t sure how it’s going to come out until you stir them all together.”
“I always have faith any recipe you try is going to turn out.”
“I know you do.” She squeezed my shoulder. “And I always have faith any cookbook we do is going to turn out because you’re the best partner ever.”
“The feeling is mutual.”
I tried not to get choked up.
“All right then, let’s see if the Arbor family is as impressed with our work as we are.” I finished putting the last of the materials in the portfolio.
“If not, they can kiss—”
“Dixie Spicer!”
“What?” She laughed. “Grits! I was going to say grits. But anyway, we’ve worked hard on this and it’s good work.”
Carrying everything out to the Jeep, I slid everything behind the seat. And we climbed in and buckled up for the drive to Arbor House.
Setting my GPS, I pushed route.
“Starting route to Arbor House Bed-and-Breakfast,” Matilda announced in her pleasant British accent.
“Really?” Dixie turned and looked at me. “You’ve been there how many times?”
“A few.” I patted the GPS unit. “Don’t listen to her, Mattie. You know we need each other.”
To be honest, the drive did look very familiar and I might have been able to do it without Matilda’s help, but there were a couple of times when I’d been sure she was going to say “turn left” and she’d announced a right turn.
Though my rose-colored glasses had been tarnished by all that had transpired since our weekend there, that first view of Arbor House when I made the turn into the driveway still enchanted me.
Nestled among the trees and framed by flowers, it was the perfect retreat. It had been spring when I’d come to talk to Gwen about that first project for the Iowa chapter of the Bed-and-Breakfast Association. The pastel flowers that had surrounded the graceful Victorian then had made it seem like a fairy house.
But now, the grove of trees had become a profusion of red and gold with the changing season, and the soft cream of the house almost glowed in the autumn light. The baskets of flowers on the wide porch had been switched to bunches of purple fountain grass and clusters of deep burgundy, rusty orange, and vivid yellow mums. It was breathtaking in a whole different way.
And who knew that first project would lead to this current one, a family project, which in spite of the tragedy and troubles they were going through, I still believed in. The ingredients were all there.
My glow lasted only from the parking lot to the front entrance.
As I raised my hand to knock, the heavy wooden door flew open and Tom brushed past us, Jezzie on his heels.
“I am out of here,” he shouted, his face red. “I can’t stand your family another minute. They make me sick!”
“Get back here.” Jezzie reached out as she slammed the door shut behind her. “I need to talk to you about—”
Suddenly they both saw us and she stopped.
Tom hesitated for only a moment and then kept going. He didn’t look back, but jumped in the powder blue Corvette and peeled out of the parking lot, throwing gravel.
I’d wondered who that car belonged to, but it had never seemed appropriate to ask.
“Sorry,” I coughed from the rock dust in the air. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Sorry. We’d talked to J.J. and he said today would be a good time.”
“Well, of course, he’d never tell me,” Jezzie bit out, yanking open the door. “He’s large and in charge all of a sudden.”
She stopped, her back to us, and took a deep breath.
When she turned around, I could see the threat of tears in her dark eyes, but she straightened her shoulders and gave a strained smile.
“I am so sorry.” She took another deep breath. “That was totally unfair, to take my upset out on you. We’ve had a lot going on the past two days and I’m afraid we’re all on edge.”
She held open the door. “Come in. I’ll find out where the rest of the family is.”
I didn’t say anything, but knew where J.J. was. I’d spotted him standing at the edge of the house when Tom barged out. I wasn’t sure how much he’d heard, but I was almost certain he’d heard the large-and-in-charge comment.
Glancing that way before I stepped inside, I didn’t see him. He’d disappeared.
Jezzie went off to look for her siblings. Dixie and I made our way to the dining room table, which seemed like the easiest place to lay out the mock-up and the photos. As we were in the middle of unpacking the materials, Gwen came in.
“Oh, good you’re here.” She beamed a smile. As usual, her soft, sophisticated look made her seem elegant and approachable. The polished, yet casual, knit dress today was a dove gray and set off her silver curls. “We’re looking forward to seeing what you’ve got for us.”
Apparently, J.J. had told some of the family, just not Jezzie.
“Have you seen anyone else?” she asked.
“Jezzie was here and went to find everyone,” Dixie answered.
“Hello.” Lucinda came down the stairs. In contrast to Jezzie’s polish and Gwen’s quiet elegance, Lucinda always looked like she’d put on whatever was at hand. Today that had been a green sweater and a khaki-colored skirt that, though they were both green, somehow clashed.
“I’m so glad to see you both. Should I go up and get Mother Arbor?” She looked to Gwen.
“It sounds like Jezzie’s already on it,” Gwen said over her shoulder as she went through toward the kitchen. “I’m going to ask Hilda to bring us some iced tea and lemonade. Doesn’t that sound good?”
“It does.” Jonathan had come in from the front hallway. He leaned in and gave Gwen a peck on the cheek.
Jonathan approached the table and looked over my shoulder at the photos I was laying out one by one. Dixie had put the recipes in order so they could see how they would appear in the book.
“This is a great family photo.” He picked up the print of the photo Max had taken of the whole group on the front porch. “Look at this.” He held it up so J.J., who’d just come in from the back, could see it.
J.J. came forward and took it from him. “It is nice.” He handed it off to Lucinda, who agreed.
“Careful, Grand-mère.” Theo supported his grandmother as she made her way slowly down the stairs. She still had a bandage around her ankle. I wondered if she’d ever fessed up about sneaking outside.
When they reached the bottom, J.J. and Jonathan took over from Theo and helped get her settled in a comfortable chair. Once she was situated, she held up her hand.
“Let me see it,” she commanded. “I could hear you all talking about it as I was coming down the stairs. Let me see the photo.”
Lucinda handed it to Theo, who took it over to his grandmother. She studied it silently before handing it back to Theo.
“It is a good photo of us.” I detected a bit of a quaver in her voice.
Who could blame her? It was a great capture of everyone together. Her whole family.
“Well, let’s get on with this.” She dabbed at the corner of her eye with a white hanky that had been tucked in her sleeve. “Is everyone here? Where are Jezzie and Tom?”
“I’m here. Tom won’t be joining us.” Jezzie spoke from the living room doorway. She kicked off the light-toned heels she’d been wearing and swirled the glass of red wine in her hand.
If they had questions about why Tom wasn’t there, or why Jezzie was drinking so early in the day, no one seemed inclined to ask.
“Then I think
we’re all here.” Jonathan nodded.
“Okay, if everyone can gather around.” I hesitated; that left Marta out. I looked to Gwen.
She caught on right away.
“Mother Arbor, could we move you closer to the table so you can see?”
“I can hobble to the table,” she insisted, standing up, “with some help.”
We got Marta situated so she could see and I began my explanation of how the cookbook would come together. We had suggestions on the recipes to include, and I explained why we’d chosen those. In most cases, it was because the recipe had been mentioned by one of the family members as reminding them of a childhood memory or a family gathering.
We’d selected a few photos from the ones they’d shared with us. Some Max had been able to scan and enhance the quality. We had wanted to include an image of a few of the handwritten recipe cards, but they didn’t scan well and overall just didn’t fit with the high-quality look we were going for.
I passed around the template and explained why Liz had recommended the layout. She’d played off the cover they’d chosen and it gave a nice cohesive look to the cookbook.
There were a few questions but overall, they seemed happy with what we had planned.
Almost there. Dixie made notes about a few adjustments to make.
“I’ll leave with you the photos we’re not using, but keep the other ones until we’re finished just in case Max has to re-scan anything,” I said.
“And I’ve put all the recipe cards you let us borrow in this envelope.” Dixie held up the manila envelope. “If you’d like, I’m happy to refile them for you.”
“I’ll take them.” Gwen held out her hand. “I’ll gladly refile them, but Hilda and I would like to take a look first. There may be some we want to try out on the B and B guests.”
Dixie handed her the envelope.
“When we’re completely finished and everything is off to press, I’ll bring you the rest of the photos.”
“You could just drop them in the mail,” Jezzie said, looking up from one of the photos.
My first thought was “Could she be any more done with us?” But what I said was, “I appreciate the offer, but I’d feel better if I handed them off in person.”
“Well, I think we’ve got your comments captured.” Dixie patted the notepad she’d been using.
“And we should have a finished product for you in a few weeks,” I added. “I’ll get you a final date in the next few days.”
“Thank you for showing this to us. We appreciate it,” J.J. said, looking around at the group. “It preserves a part of our family history.”
There were nods from the rest.
“Speaking of history. Sugar, do you have time to take a look at the genealogy progress I’ve made?” Lucinda asked.
“I’d love to, but we don’t have a lot of time today.” I’d started gathering up the papers and photos. “I have a friend taking care of Frenchie while I’m gone.”
“Good lord, we’ve taken over your life, haven’t we?” Lucinda blurted out. “That’s sort of the way the Arbor family works. They take you in and take over your life.”
That earned her a hard look from all the siblings, but I didn’t think she’d meant it in a derogatory way.
“What?” she shot back at the group. “They came to get some recipes and photos for a cookbook and they find themselves in the middle of a murder investigation. And Sugar here now has responsibility for a random poodle. I’m sure that was never in their business plan.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond. I truly didn’t mind taking care of Frenchie, but I was learning that taking care of the dog was much different than taking care of a cat. As far as the murder investigation, I wasn’t sure how much Sheriff Terry had shared about the most recent developments.
“Come on.” Lucinda motioned to me. “I’ll make it quick. I have some new thoughts for you on your search for your father’s family.”
I hesitated.
“Go ahead.” Dixie waved me away. “I’ll finish packing up.”
I followed Lucinda up the stairs to the library and, like before, she had to move some papers so I could sit down.
“Here’s what I wanted to give you.” She handed me a manila envelope. “There are some copies of old records in there. Examples from my own family research. The kind of thing you want to hunt for as you access online court, census, and military records.”
“Thanks so much for this.” I’d been overwhelmed with where to start and this would help.
“You have a good head for this stuff and a great attitude about it.” She continued moving papers as she talked. “Many people only want to deal with the good news they find. There’s a tendency to ignore the negative. The truth is, if you dig into any family’s history… well, let’s just say some things you unearth will make you proud and others things not so much.”
“It seems like a given.” I tucked the envelope in my bag. “You have to take the bad with the good.”
“One more thing. Have you ever thought about a DNA test?” she asked.
“I’m not sure what good that would do.” I shook my head. “It would be different if I’d found potential family members and wanted to confirm them. But I don’t even have a lead on my father’s biological parents.”
“That’s just it.” She continued moving papers around, obviously looking for something. “It might give you a lead.”
“How so?” I asked.
“The companies that sell the DNA tests keep a large database with the information. Your DNA might match other DNA info in the database if any of your father’s relatives have done the test.”
“I’d have access to that information?” I hadn’t considered that option.
“People choose whether to make their information available to others doing research, but it’s a possibility,” she explained. “A long shot, maybe. But a possibility.”
“I see.” I nodded. “It might give me a place to start.”
“Exactly. I did mine a while ago, but I’ve ordered DNA kits for all the Arbor crew and had them shipped here. I’m afraid if they don’t do it now while I’m here, they’ll get busy and not get around to it.”
“Do you think they’re interested in finding out about their roots?” No one had ever mentioned an interest when Lucinda talked to me about it, and we’d often been in the larger group.
“No, I don’t think they are all that much,” she admitted. “But I hope they’ll indulge me. I’ve found some interesting twists in their family history and once I’m through with my family, I’d like to get on with my work on the Arbor family.”
“Thanks for telling me about it and thanks for this.” I held up the envelope. “I truly appreciate it.”
We made our way downstairs and then outside to where Dixie and the group were assembled on the porch. The wind had come up a bit, but it was still a nice, warm fall day. We watched as Sheriff Terry came down the drive, parked, and got out of his car.
He stopped at the bottom of the steps, a serious look on his face. His eyes landed on Dixie and his expression lightened, but just for a moment, then he was back to Mr. Law Enforcement.
“I have an update, but I’d like to say it once,” he said. “Is everyone here?”
I looked around. J.J. was missing, as well as Theo and Marta. Lucinda had come outside with me and everyone else had already been on the porch. Well, except for Tom.
“I’ll go get Theo,” Jezzie said. “And Mother, if she’ll come.”
“J.J. is in the living room,” Lucinda said. “I saw him when we came past. Would you tell him to come out here as you go by?”
“Sure,” Jezzie answered, opening the door.
I stepped down off the porch, closer to Sheriff Terry. “Tom, Jezzie’s husband, isn’t here right now,” I said quietly. “We’d stopped by to show every
one the cookbook layout.” I said that part a little louder.
There was a bit of an awkward pause while everyone waited.
“I’ll just get the mail while we’re waiting.” Lucinda started down the steps.
“Stay put,” I told her. “I’ll get it.” I glanced down at my tracker. These travel days were not doing me any favors on reaching my walking goals. Here was a chance to make up a few steps. I’d bet it was at least two hundred steps to the mailbox at the end of the drive.
Taking off at a brisk pace, I headed across the parking lot and then down the white rock driveway. At the end, I glanced at my wrist. Okay, I had been overly optimistic. It was only seventy-three steps. Still, that would be 146 by the time I got back to the porch.
I flipped open the metal mailbox and peered in. It looked like the there was a ton of mail and some small packages.
Reaching in and wrapping my fingers around the mail, a couple of envelopes fell to the ground. I reached down to grab them before the wind blew them away. And—
BOOM!
There was a blinding flash and I flew backwards, landing on my backside in the ditch. There were faint sounds but the clanging in my ears drowned them out.
What the heck had happened?
I laid back and closed my eyes. Opened them. Closed them again. The grass was soft. Faces gathered around me but I couldn’t make sense of what they were saying. Gwen pushed through and offered me a damp towel. Placing it over my face, I tried to sit up. It fell off and I fell back.
The faces returned. Dixie looked concerned. Sheriff Terry leaned in.
I tried to say I was okay.
Then there was nothing but blackness.
I woke up in the back of an ambulance, a young EMT taking my vitals.
“I’m okay.” There, I finally got it said.
“I’ll be the judge of that,” he said, tucking a blanket around me and attaching a blood pressure cuff to my arm.
“How’s she doing?” Sheriff Terry looked in.
The ringing in my ears had improved to the point that I not only could hear him, I could hear the babble of talk outside the ambulance.
Quiche of Death Page 14
