Crooked as a Dog's Hind Leg
Copyright © 2015 Toni L. P. Kelner
All rights reserved.
Published as an ebook in 2015 by Jabberwocky Literary Agency, Inc.
Cover design by Tiger Bright Studios
ISBN 978-1-625671-49-3
PUBLICATION HISTORY
“Gift of the Murderer”
Originally published in Murder Under the Tree
Kensington Books, November 1993
“Marley’s Ghost”
Originally published in Murder Most Merry
Kensington Books, November 1994
“The Death of Erik the Redneck”
Originally published in Malice Domestic 5, presented by Phyllis A. Whitney
Pocket Books, May 1996
Nominated for an Agatha Award
“An Unmentionable Crime”
Originally published in Magnolias and Mayhem, edited by Jeffrey Marks
Silver Dagger, January 2000
“Bible Belt”
Originally published in Ellery Queen Mystery Magazine, June 2002
Nominated for Anthony and Macavity Awards
“Old Dog Days”
Originally published in A Hot and Sultry Night for Crime, edited by Jeffery Deaver
Berkley Prime Crime, February 2003
“Lying-in-the-Road Death”
Originally published in Undertow: Crime Stories by New England Writers
edited by Skye Alexander, Kate Flora, and Susan Oleksiw
Level Best Books, May 2006
ALSO BY TONI L. P. KELNER
SKELETON FAMILY MYSTERIES
(writing as Leigh Perry)
A Skeleton in the Family
The Skeleton Takes a Bow
The Skeleton Haunts a House
LAURA FLEMING MYSTERIES
Down Home Murder*
Dead Ringer*
Trouble Looking for a Place to Happen*
Country Comes to Town*
Tight as a Tick*
Death of a Damn Yankee*
Mad as the Dickens*
Wed and Buried*
Crooked as a Dog's Hind Leg*
a Laura Fleming collection
ANTHOLOGIES CO-EDITED WITH CHARLAINE HARRIS
Many Bloody Returns
Wolfsband and Mistletoe
Death's Excellent Vacation
Home Improvement: Undead Edition
An Apple for the Creature
Games Creatures Play
“WHERE ARE THEY NOW?” SERIES
Curse of the Kissing Cousin* (originally published as Without Mercy)
Who Killed the Pinup Queen?*
Blast from the Past*
*available as a Jabberwocky ebook
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Title Page
Also by Toni L. P. Kelner
Dedication
Welcome Back to Byerly!
Gift of the Murderer
Marley's Ghost
The Death of Erik the Redneck
An Unmentionable Crime
Bible Belt
Old Dog Days
Lying-in-the-Road Death
To Dina Wilner
Best. Fan. Ever.
Welcome Back To Byerly!
The seven stories in this collection are all associated with the novels in my Laura Fleming mystery series. Two were written from the perspective of Laura herself, while the others featured other characters and settings from the books. They appeared in various anthologies and magazines, and have been out of print for years, so I’m happy to collect them for the first time.
In reading them, please bear in mind that they were written some years back. If you’re wondering why the characters don’t whip out their cell phones, it’s because they were rarely seen back in the day. Social attitudes have shifted too, faster than I would ever have predicted. I considered updating the stories, but decided they work better set in their own little time capsules.
GIFT OF THE MURDERER
This story takes place in the time gap between the first two Laura Fleming novels: Down Home Murder and Dead Ringer.
I was glad I had saved Liz's present for last. Maybe it would help make up for Mrs. Hamilton's earlier abuse. "I believe this is for you," I said, handing her the glittery gift bag.
"For me?" she said, looking pleased. "Who did this come from?"
"A good elf never tells," I said solemnly. "Union rules."
She smiled and opened the bag. I could see my cousin Clifford watching from where he was playing Christmas carols on his guitar. The present was from him, but he was too shy to want Liz to know that. Liz reached into the bag and pulled out a long knife, the blade smeared with something dark.
"What on earth?" she asked.
"I don't know." I looked over at Clifford, but he seemed as confused as I was. "I think there's been some kind of a mistake," I said, but was interrupted by a shriek from a few feet away.
Mrs. Hamilton had keeled over in her wheelchair, and one of the other residents pointed at her and shrieked again.
Liz dropped the knife back into the bag and thrust it toward me so she could run to Mrs. Hamilton. I was only a few steps behind her, though I didn't know that there was anything I would be able to do.
Liz put her hand on Mrs. Hamilton's back as if to straighten her up and then jerked her hand away. I was the only one close enough to see that her hand was covered in blood. A hole through the canvas back of the wheelchair matched the old woman's bloody wound.
I think Liz and I realized at the same instant that the smears on that knife had to be blood, which meant that I was carrying the weapon that had been used on Mrs. Hamilton.
* * *
I'll admit that I didn't have much Christmas spirit when my husband Richard and I came home to Byerly. My grandfather had been gone less than a year, and I wasn't sure that I wanted to celebrate without him. Still, I was trying to get into a holiday mood and had even agreed to help my cousin Vasti throw a party at the old folk's home a few days before Christmas. The last thing I expected was to end up investigating a stabbing.
Of course, if I had had one lick of sense, I would have called Vasti and canceled when the storm started that afternoon. But no, I let Richard talk me into going out in the middle of the worst ice storm to hit the mountains of North Carolina in years. It took us twenty minutes to chip out the car, and the roads were coated with ice.
I held just as tight as I could to the arm rest the entire time we were driving and tried my darnedest not to back-seat drive. Finally I couldn't help but say, "There's a stop sign just around that curve. You might want to start slowing down."
"Yes, dear," Richard said.
"Sorry. It's just that driving in this mess makes me nervous."
"Hey, I live in Massachusetts. No puny North Carolina winter can scare me."
After several years up North, I should have been used to winter weather, too, but I wasn't. "Of course in Boston they have snow plows to keep the roads clear," I reasoned. "And driving in ice isn't anything like driving in snow."
"Yes, dear."
"Sorry," I said again. I managed to stay quiet for another couple of minutes, but then said, "Take your time. We've got half an hour before we're due at the old folks' home."
"Isn't it supposed to be 'nursing home?' Or maybe these days it's a senior citizens' center."
"You're probably right." I felt the car slide, and gritted my teeth. Normally nothing in Byerly was more than ten minutes away from anything else, but we had already been on the road for twenty minutes and we weren't there yet.
"You're just afraid we're going to get into an accident and you'll have to go to the hospital dressed like that," Richard said with a grin.
I pulled down the sun visor on my side, looked into the mirror on the back side, and made a face at myself. "Do I look as foolish as I feel?"
"'The little foolery that wise men have makes a great show.' As You Like It, Act I, scene 1," he replied.
"Thanks loads. That makes me feel much better." Thanks to Vasti, I was dressed in green tights and a red garment that Richard said was a jerkin. My coat covered most of the outfit, but not the shoes and hat. The bells on the curled toes of my red slippers jingled every time I moved, and the plume on the Robin Hood hat constantly fluttered in and out of the corner of my sight.
"I think you look adorable," Richard added. "Just what I'd like to find in my Christmas stocking. Except that an elf shouldn't be frowning. Maybe we should have a little elf practice so you can learn to go hee hee and ho ho and important stuff like that."
I looked at him accusingly. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
He grinned.
"Keep it up," I said. "I'll tell the other members of your department that Boston College's Shakespeare specialist has been quoting from Rudolph the Red–Nosed Reindeer."
"Such cruelty," he said, shaking his head. "And so close to Christmas, too. You're liable to get coal in your stocking instead of that new software you've been hinting about. Just think of how happy those senior citizens are going to be when you and the others show up."
"They're going to laugh their fool heads off at us," I grumbled.
"You don't want to spoil the party, now do you? Remember, what the Bard said. 'A woeful hostess brooks not merry guests.' The Rape of Lucrece."
"Vasti's the hostess, not me. I'm just an elf."
"Well, if you didn't want to be an elf, you shouldn't have volunteered."
"I didn't volunteer," I protested. "Vasti volunteered me." Vasti had originally arranged for four cousins to be elves at the Christmas party she was throwing at the Byerly Nursing Home, but when our pretty cousin Ilene got a better offer and backed out, Vasti was left one elf short.
To be fair to Vasti, I hadn't fought her too hard when she suggested I take Ilene's place. I was hoping that the party would inspire at least a little of the Christmas spirit I was missing this year.
I shoved the feather on that darned hat back into place and looked at Richard in his blue jeans and Shakespeare sweatshirt more than a little resentfully. "Vasti could probably come up with a costume for you."
"No, thanks," he said. "I don't look as good in tights as you do."
Finally I saw the sign for the nursing home. "There it is. Go right just after that post," I said, and was glad when we managed to turn past the post and not into it. Not surprisingly, there weren't many cars in the parking lot. Most folks had enough sense to stay home on a night like this.
Still, the place looked like it was ready for a Christmas party. Colored lights outlined the entrance, and there was a wreath in every window. I recognized Vasti's style. As far as she's concerned, if it's worth doing, then it's worth overdoing.
With Richard and me helping each other across the parking lot, we just barely kept from falling on our behinds. Vasti was pacing across the lobby just inside the front door. I guessed that as the hostess of this shindig, she rated a higher rank than I did. Instead of an elf suit, she was dressed in a red velvet dress with white fur around the sleeves and collar, and had a perky Santa hat on top of her brown curls. I would have thought boots would fit the costume better than red patent-leather pumps, but Vasti always did have a weakness for high heels.
"It's about time!" she said when she saw us. "I didn't think y'all would ever get here."
"You said seven o'clock," I said, checking my watch. "It's only a quarter til now." I thought that was pretty good, considering the ice storm.
"Seven? Laurie Anne, I know I said six–thirty. The triplets are late, too."
I thought about arguing with her, but decided it wasn't worth the effort. "Well, we're here now."
"You can leave your coats in the closet behind the reception desk," she said, "and then come on down to the recreation room." She tapped her foot while we hung up our coats, and then led the way.
About halfway down the hallway, she stopped to let Richard and me pass her.
"What's the matter?" I asked, stopping too.
"Oh nothing," she said, and started up again. "I guess I should have gotten you a bigger elf suit."
I followed her as best I could while trying to catch my reflection in every shiny surface we passed. "It doesn't look too tight to me," I said.
"Now don't you worry about it," Vasti said. "Most of these old geezers can't see far enough to notice figure flaws."
What figure flaws? Maybe I wasn't Hollywood material, but I didn't think I looked that bad.
By now we had reached the recreation room. I had to admit that whoever Vasti had talked into doing the work had done an wonderful job of turning the institutional room into a place where you didn't mind having a party. Tinsel garland and electric candles were scattered all around the room, and each of the tables circling the room had a silk poinsettia centerpiece.
There was an enormous Christmas tree in the center of the room, decorated with lots of blinking lights and shiny balls. A long table filled with platters of party food lined one wall, with punch bowls on either end. There was a small platform in one corner with music stands.
"Did I tell you that Clifford is coming to play Christmas carols?" Vasti asked.
"That's a great idea."
"I was just going to play tapes, but he said he wanted to come." She lowered her voice to what she thought was a conspiratorial whisper and said, "Don't tell him I told you, but I hear he's sweet on Liz Sanderson, one of the nurses here. I think she's Hoyle Sanderson's little sister. You remember Hoyle, don't you? Now he's blond but she's a redhead, so I can't decide if it's natural or not."
"Is Clifford serious about her?"
"Oh he's serious enough, but he's too doggone shy to tell her that. I don't know what on earth he's afraid of."
I did. I had been painfully shy in high school and through a good part of college. Clifford was afraid he'd be laughed at, just like I had been.
Vasti went on, "I've got half a mind to tell Liz that he's got a crush on her just to get it over with. Then maybe he'll quit mooning over her."
"Vasti, don't you dare."
"Why not? The worst that could happen is that she'd tell me that she's not interested and ask me to break it to him gently."
The problem was, Vasti had never broken anything to anyone gently in her whole life. "Vasti," I started, but then reconsidered. If I left it alone, she'd likely forget about it anyway. Instead I said, "What do you want us to do? Everything looks pretty well set up already."
She picked a clipboard up off of a table and made a big show of looking at it. "Laurie Anne, you can arrange those Secret Santa gifts under the tree so they look pretty." She pointed to several boxes filled with wrapped packages. "You and the other elves will be handing them out later."
"Isn't that Santa Claus's job?" I said.
"No, because Arthur and I are going to be mingling and making sure that everybody is having a good time."
"Where is Arthur anyway?" Richard asked.
"He had a City Council meeting. Civic leadership takes up so much of his time." She sighed theatrically, which would have been more effective if I didn't know how much she loved being the wife of a city councilman. "I just hope he can make it through the storm."
She consulted her clipboard again. "Richard, those boxes on the table have cookies in them. You can set them out on those platters. All right?"
"'I will be correspondent to command,'" he said. "The Tempest, Act I, scene 2."
She paused a minute before deciding that he had said yes, and then said, "Now y'all two get busy, and I'm going to find a phone to see if the triplets are coming or not."
As I reached for a package, she added, "Laurie Anne, you might better be careful about bending over. I don't know how much strain
those tights can take." With that burst of Christmas cheer, she disappeared into the kitchen.
Being an adult, I didn't let her comments bother me. Well, I stuck my tongue out at her behind her back, but I did put the presents around the tree like she’d asked. Then I went to see how Richard was doing.
"Aren't you done yet?" I asked in what I thought was a fair imitation of Vasti's soprano. "What on earth are you waiting for?"
"I'm trying, but Vasti baked enough cookies for an army," he said.
"Heaven forbid!" I said. "Vasti doesn't bake. She must have got someone else to bake them for her." I looked inside one of the boxes. "See? I know those are Aunt Nora's double–butter cookies. She always decorates them so pretty, I'd recognize them anywhere." I reached for a particularly fetching reindeer and then paused.
"Richard," I said, "tell me the truth. Do I look heavy in this outfit?"
He stepped back and studied me from a couple of angles. "To quote the Bard," he said, and then gave a piercing wolf whistle.
"Richard! This is a hospital. Sort of, anyway." I looked around to make sure no nurses had run in to see what was the matter. "Thank you, love, but that's not the kind of answer I was expecting."
"I calls them like I sees them."
"And what play did that come from?"
"Who said anything about a play? That's what Shakespeare used to say to Mrs. Shakespeare."
"Oh yeah? Then why did he only leave her his second best bed in his will?"
Vasti's return interrupted our literary discussion. "The triplets didn't answer their phone, so I guess that they're on their way. Richard, are you planning to finish that today?"
Richard saluted. "Yes, Mrs. Claus. Sure thing, Mrs. Claus. Right away, Mrs. Claus." Even Vasti had to grin as Richard made a show of rushing around like a chicken with its head cut off.
Richard and I had just finished arranging refreshments to Vasti's satisfaction when Idelle, Odelle, and Carlelle arrived, with Clifford in tow. The triplets were dressed in elf costumes like mine, but Clifford had escaped Vasti's penchant for costume and was just wearing a nice red and white sweater with his blue jeans. All four of them were carrying more wrapped presents.
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