by Sarah Hualde
She shoved her hand into her pocket and pulled out Kat’s bottle. For a small moment, as she wrenched off the cap, the scent of peppermint overpowered the smell of gas. So armed, Lydia attacked. She jumped on Victor’s back and held on tightly. With one hand she flicked the small green bottle in front of Victor’s face. Lydia also gathered some oil on her palms before rubbing them roughly on Victor’s eyes.
At first, Victor fought back, unfazed, but suddenly he groaned and ripped Lydia from his back. Ethan’s voice came alongside Lydia.
“Help them,” Ethan instructed his wife. “I’ve called the fire department, but they’re out by Berna’s. “
Fifteen minutes away. “I’ll see if I have an extinguisher.” Lydia raced to the car. She could hear the flames flare behind her. She had to stop them before they reached Victor’s pile of gas cans. Lydia’s little car was of no help. Only a half-finished cup of cold coffee and Miss Jacqui’s quilt rested on her front seat. “Lord, help me,” she pleaded and ran back at the fire carrying the precious crafter’s wedding quilt. She tossed it over the fire before stomping across it.
Gus arrived to help Ethan as Lydia finished snuffing out the flames. He revived Cordelia and escorted her to the freshly arrived firefighters. Ethan turned Victor over to Gus’ care and helped Lydia free Emily. Awake and terrified, Emily tossed her arms around Lydia and cried. Lydia held her fast. She burrowed her face in the teen's sweat-soaked hair. “Thank you. Thank you,” were the only words she could squeeze out.
“Is that what I think it is?” Ethan’s laugh lines stretched as his eyes widened. He pointed to a lump of burnt beige cotton and blackened lace. Lydia followed his gaze but didn’t respond. “You are in a lot of trouble.”
Chapter 40
Mr. Mike escorted Emily to Mission house. There Dr. Lawrence examined her and treated her bruised wrists before heading back to his office to correct all the adjusted prescriptions. “It’ll take me a month to set them all straight,” he told Lydia as she sat next to Emily during her exam.
Cordelia was sent straight to Ashton. She required a psychological workup more than physical treatment.
Ethan managed a free minute to hold his wife and drive her home before returning to the station.
Lydia flopped onto the couch. Her weight sent the couch cushions flying. Ivy flung open her bedroom door. “Hang on a minute,” she said to someone on her phone.
Ivy timidly trekked to the couch. “Is everything okay?”
Lydia flinched. “Oh, sweetie, how did you get home?” Ivy startled at the glazed emotionless expression drifting in Lydia’s eyes.
She sat beside her friend on the couch and tucked her feet under a pillow. “Kat followed me home a couple of hours ago. She made sure Scout and I were all locked in and safe.” Lydia nodded. Muffled chatter came from Ivy’s palm. She pushed a button on her cell and lifted it to her ear. “I think she’s okay. She looks strange.” The voice inquired, and Ivy grunted affirmations while keeping her eyes on Lydia’s face.
“What happened?”
“Emily’s safe,” Lydia said. “Cordelia’s on her way to the hospital.”
Ivy placed a hand on her Lydia’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”
Lydia’s forehead crinkled. She blinked before fully recognizing Ivy’s worry. “I think so. I just tackled Victor Cotton to the ground.” Ivy’s eyes widened. A smile curled her lips. A gasp came from the phone, followed by a whoop. “I’m okay. Go back to your phone call, Honey.”
Ivy shook her head. “It’s for you. Well, sort of.” Ivy flipped her screen around and set the volume to speakerphone.
Lydia’s mouth went dry the moment Joan’s grinning face turned toward her. “Hey, momma,” she said. “You look like you’ve rolled in a barbeque pit!”
“Pretty close. However, enough about me, why are you girls chatting at 1 am? Can’t be good.”
Both girls laughed. Joan answered, “It’s 9 am over here, and no, it isn’t good. You see, my mother has been avoiding my calls. I figure it’s because she doesn’t want to let me know she’s involved in another mystery. So, I called Ivy to get the scoop.”
Ivy shrugged when Lydia gave her a disapproving side glance. “Oh yeah, I told her everything. You hadn’t even told her about the Lavender Festival.”
Lydia shrunk back into the couch cushions. “I didn’t want to worry anyone.”
Joan and Ivy laughed in unison. “She doesn’t get it, does she, Ivy?”
“Nope.”
“You are very important to us.” Ivy nodded before adding her two cents. “So, if you’re going to be gallivanting around solving murders...”
Lydia waved a hand in the air. “Don’t worry! I’m not planning to be doing that again, ever!”
Again, the girls laughed. “You can’t help it,” Ivy said.
“Besides, don’t you think God has something to say about your plans,” Joan added. “As we were saying, if you’re going to be solving murders, Ivy and I would like to be kept in the loop. We’d like to know our mom is safe.”
“Our mom?’ Lydia kept her eyes on Joan but placed a shaking hand on Ivy’s. Ivy squeezed it with her free hand.
“Ivy and I have discussed it,” Joan said. “We think it’s time for us to become sisters. Not just friends. If that’s alright with you?”
Lydia’s throat tightened. “I’m overwhelmed.”
✽✽✽
Out of everything her week included, handing the charred wedding quilt to Miss Jacqui was the most terrifying. Lydia didn’t try to clean it or repair it. With her crafting history, she was sure to damage the priceless quilt further. Lydia dodged Jacqui’s looks as she passed her an envelope containing $650-the price of the quilt.
Jacqui scowled at Lydia but said nothing. Her lips quivered; her eye contact remained steady. “Deputy Gus told me. He drove over early in the morning and explained. I wasn’t sure what to expect. This seems about right. Keep your money. I’ll have to make a new one. It gives me another reason to get through physical therapy” Jacqui gestured to her wrist. “I guess you’d better come inside and have a cup of coffee. Then you can tell me all about it.”
✽✽✽
Tamas hosted a party for the clearing of Hobo Joe’s name, and most of the town turned up to celebrate. Joe forgave them of their judgments, as he always did and took time to greet as many visitors as he could. At the end of the festivities, the town gave him a tent and new sleeping bag. It was their way of inviting him back to his summer residence of the town lawn. Joe was touched at their offering and exhausted by the crowds. He pulled a chair to the last table hosting guests.
“Victor Cotton was a bad, bad man,” Flora understated. She sat beside Kat at 3 Alarm Coffee.
‘That he was,” Hobo Joe agreed.
Lydia permitted Kat to tell the tale. Lydia was too tired to care if the facts were in order or not. She was too happy to mind exaggerations. Emily was safe. Cordelia was healing. Honey Pot was getting back in order.
“He must have flipped out waiting for Cordelia to call the cops.” Flora nodded, but Joe furrowed his brow.
“I can’t imagine. She kept Mario in that freezer for almost three months.” Kat shivered.
“Cordelia is a good wife. The best of wives. She supported Mario more than most women would have. Together they conquered his PTSD. After Victor shot her that phony text and she found Mario poisoned, she went into protective mode. She couldn’t bare anyone judging him.” Silently they sent prayers out for Cordelia. The widow in waiting who couldn’t bear the truth. Though she now knew Victor murdered Mario, she still held fast to the hope he would come home to her. “He died a hero. Who knows how long Victor would have kept supplying our teens with pills to pop if Mario hadn’t discovered his secret.”
“He must have been waiting for the next shoe to drop. Wondering how much Cordelia knew about his drugged candles and if she suspected him for Mario’s death. That must have driven him crazy!”
“Oh. Poor thing.” Kat mocked and t
ook a sip of her ginger tea.
Lydia cringed. Her stomach still ached, bruised from Victor’s retaliation. “Thankfully, you found Mario’s journal. Without it, I’m sure Ethan would have taken Victor down for the drugs, but he wouldn’t have the pull he needed to get him to confess to Mario’s murder.”
“Death by hot cocoa,” Flora shuddered. “Then he tried to poison Cordelia, too.”
“But she couldn’t handle the caffeine. By then, Victor's trash smashing minions were already driving Cordelia crazy. She thought they knew about Mario in her garage. She went...”
“Where did she go?” Ivy slid into the booth, beside Lydia.
“She’s staying near her sister. After she’s healed, they’re planning to take a long vacation.”
“What about Mr. McNeil? Is he pressing charges?”
Hobo Joe shook his head. “Lucas convinced him not to.”
Lydia imagined it wasn’t easy for Lucas. Mr. McNeil wanted brimstone to fall on whoever was responsible for hurting his son. However, he wanted status more; Lucas knew that about his father. He probably used Mr. McNeil’s desire for positive popular opinion to sway his father’s wrath from Mrs. Muggs to the cruelest perpetrator, Victor Cotton. Mrs. Muggs may have taken the initial swing at the boys, but she was not the one who pummeled them and killed Braden.
After discovering Braden suffocated inside the hospital, all anger at Mrs. Muggs faded. Besides, as Joe stated, Cordelia was in a rehab facility overcoming her own PTSD.
Lydia heard from Ethan that Lucas persuaded his father to do more than drop charges on Cordelia. Lucas was moving out of town and in with his mother. Though under probation, Lucas would help his mother as best as he could. Mr. McNeil’s monthly financial support would bolster the split family as they healed. Mr. McNeil agreed only with the condition that Lucas broke ties with Emily. This Lucas did with a broken spirit. Escaping conviction for helping Braden menace the town, Lucas told all to the police and offered to testify against Victor Cotton. He further protested for Emily’s innocence. She was an unsuspecting accomplice.
Emily would know nothing about it until she returned from treatment, herself. Mr. Mike and Jane planned a specific retreat for Emily to attend. Absorbing the rest of the summer, Emily’s fate in Honey Pot hung in the balance. If she completed treatment, she would return to Mission House. If not, well Lydia didn’t like to think of the if not’s. Instead, she prayed earnestly for Emily’s healing and daily wrote letters to the girl knowing she might never receive them.
Heated sorrow clumped in Lydia’s throat and struggled to burst from her eyes. Lydia took a long drink of coffee and looked from her mug to see her thoughts reflected in Ivy’s face. They grinned at each other, knowingly. Hope was all around them.
Ethan waved from the locked door. Tamas let him in and offered him leftovers from the cruller tray. He took one before walking over to his wife and her friends. “Ready to go?”
Lydia nodded at him. She rose, followed by Ivy and said goodbye to her friends. She and Ethan had a long weekend planned. One without distractions or other people. Lydia thanked Tamas for the party, as Ethan escorted Ivy and Scout to his truck.
“It was great for you to do this for Joe.” She placed a gentle hand on Tamas’ forearm. The barista manager frowned.
“I didn't do this. Joe did. He wanted to thank the town for supporting him.”
Lydia rolled her eyes. Her beautiful hometown was anything but supportive of their favorite mascot. “How could he?”
“Promise not to tell?” Lydia arched an eyebrow at her favorite coffee brewer. Lydia nodded, and Tamas leaned in to whisper the juiciest secret she’d heard all summer. She stopped to process the information.
“Does Ethan know,” she asked.
Tamas nodded. “Joe didn’t like it, but it came out in the investigation.” He held the door open for the still stunned sheriff’s wife. “You tell a soul, and I’ll deny everything.” Lydia grimaced. Tamas locked the door and waved farewell as Lydia backed away from 3 Alarm Coffee. Not even her best friends would believe this news. At least she had Ethan to talk to about it. Boy, he was in for an earful.
Thank You
Thanks for visiting Honey Pot. I hope you enjoyed your stay. The next adventure is just around the bend. Sign up for my newsletter to get updates and Sneaky Peeks. Be on the lookout for Death by Donation.
IF YOU’VE ENJOYED HANGING out with Lydia, Kat, Flora, and Ivy they would love it if you would consider leaving a review. Simply head over to wherever you purchased this book and leave a review.
Thanks for making my day! ☺
Acknowledgements
So many thank yous so little words.
God gets the biggest bundle of gratitude... hopefully my life is a thank you letter to Him for His great big love and encouraging nudges.
My family ranks next. Ez-thanks for talking plot points with your old mom and racing me on Battlefront. Zo- thanks for being eager to listen and excited to read. You’re such a cheerleader. SteveO- thanks for not complaining when I’m up until all hours typing away. And thanks for all the dinners you’ve cooked when I’ve been too absorbed to remember to eat.
Mom-Dad-Jess: there aren’t enough words to tell you how much you mean to me. Thanks for believing in me.
To my Review Team: Thanks for all your encouragement when I’m totally freaking out. You’ll never know how many literary ledges you’ve talked me away from. You rock!
For my Late Night Coffee Moms: Thanks for watching and reading my rambling post. I hope you see a bit of yourselves in my characters. I’m cheering you on. “Hi, Eunice!”
Miss Patti E: Your help has been lifesaving... at least to my characters and the world they live in. You give me such peace of mind. Thank you.
XXX ACCORDING TO A recent study, over 20 veterans succumb to suicide every day. Please take a moment and pray for a veteran, today. XXX
Stephen’s Page
I see you there. You’re wondering when I’m finally going to put your name in the dedication. Well, Babe, I don’t know. I keep waiting for the perfect book with the perfect scenarios and perfect cast of characters. I want it to be one you’ll enjoy. One that will make you laugh and keep you guessing. One we would’ve read together during our dating years. Although, I do love this book and my friends (aka characters) within it... I don’t feel like it’s the perfect book for you, not yet. I’ll just have to keep trying. In the meantime... I love you more than coffee... This page is for you.
Me.
About the Author
Sarah lives in California, in a home that brings her happiness and hay fever. She has a husband who cooks, a son who stop animates, a daughter who loves animals, a dog that follows her everywhere, and a turtle who scowls at her condescendingly. She enjoys writing new adventures for her imaginary friends and is thrilled when friends in real life enjoy reading her work. She loves God, loves her family, and loves freshly brewed coffee with a side of pastry. She is currently struggling to perfect her recipe for gluten free cinnamon rolls. It’s hit or miss.
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Connecting independent readers to independent writers.
Did you love Farmers Market Fatality? Then you should read Missing on Main Street by Sarah Hualde!
It all started with one missing teen.
Lydia Everett is the only person who even notices Ivy's absence. She decides to put her worries to rest by taking on the search for her missing student.
Lydia fears for Ivy's life when she discovers she has a stepfather who denies he has a stepdaughter and an ex-boyfriend with sinister intentions. She recruits her friends, in spite of their hectic holiday schedules, to help her find Ivy before it's too late.
Book #1 in The Honey Pot Mystery series stars Lydia, Kat, and Flora searching for clue
s and getting into trouble. You'll love this small town cozy mystery series starring 3 stay at home moms. Warm up your coffee and get ready to meet your new mom friends.
You don't want to miss a single clue in this faith-building Christian Mystery Series.
*** Previously Published As Another Cliche Christmas***
Also by Sarah Hualde
Honey Pot Mysteries
Missing on Main Street
Lethal in Lavender
Farmers Market Fatality
Death by Donation
Standalone
Diary of a Dyslexic Homeschooler
