Purring Around the Christmas Tree

by Liz Mugavero

  Char frowned at her. “You’re right. I guess I can’t tell anyone. I’ll be the laughingstock of Frog Ledge.”

  *

  Stan knew she couldn’t tell Char the real story. And Char wouldn’t listen to any of her defenses of Ray. Char finally left in tears, careening down the street like a NASCAR driver doing a qualifying lap. Betty had even tried to make her friend feel better, but Char wasn’t buying into any of it. They watched her drive away.

  “I’ll go after her,” Patricia said. “She usually listens to me. At least someone does.” She winked to show she was teasing, then got in her car and headed to the B and B.

  Betty looked at Stan. “Do you really think she’s going to file for divorce?”

  “Jeez, I hope not.” Stan twisted her hair around her finger. “Do you think we could stop her somehow if she tried?”

  “I have no idea.” Betty thought. “I bet she’ll call Marian LaRoche. She’s a lawyer here in town. She handles a lot of divorces. I can give her a heads-up to stall Char.”

  “Good idea.” At any other time, Stan would wonder about a town where people could poke their noses so far into someone else’s business, but right now she was grateful. “I wish we could track the call. I need to tell Jessie.”

  “Have you heard from her? About this?” Betty waved a hand at the store, which looked a hundred times better than this morning.

  “No. Lou responded to the call. I haven’t talked to her. Look, Betty, I’m going to head out. Thank you so much for doing this for me. Truly. You guys made everything better.”

  “That’s what friends are for.” Betty kissed her cheek. “And Stan? Don’t worry about the holiday-stroll planning. I’ve got it covered. You have enough on your plate.”

  Stan wanted to kiss her. “Thanks, Betty.” She hurried outside before Betty could change her mind. Frank and his crew were finishing up with the window. “Will you lock up when you’re done?” Stan asked him.

  Frank nodded. “We won’t be much longer.”

  “Thank you again. Really.”

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Stan got in her car and pulled out her phone. She dialed Jessie. Voicemail. “Jessie. Ray called Char. Call me.” When she hung up, she tried Cyril. No answer at his desk or on his cell. Ready to scream in frustration, she tried Tony. No answer there either.

  “Where is everyone?” she muttered, pounding her fist on the steering wheel. If Char started telling people that Ray had called and the wrong people heard about it, it could cause major problems.

  She didn’t know what else to do, though, so she headed for home. When she got there, she got another surprise. Jake and Liam were out on the porch, stringing up colored Christmas lights. A wreath with a red ribbon hung on the front door.

  Stan parked and walked up to the porch. “What are you doing home?” she asked Jake. “I thought you had to be at the pub.”

  Jake finished tacking up the string of lights in his hand, then turned to her. “I wanted to stick around here today. Figured it would make you feel better,” he said. “And I knew you had a crew of people helping at the shop.”

  “Oh,” was all she could manage, before she threw her arms around him and hugged him. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  He squeezed her back. “You don’t have to thank me.”

  Once she had herself under control she turned to Liam on the ladder, shielding her eyes from the sun. “How are you doing? What happened last night?”

  Liam grinned. “My cousin let me off the hook.”

  “She did? That’s great news.”

  “Yeah. We had some words on the way to the station. I told her what that waste of skin had said about Izzy. Really, what my father said about Izzy and he was repeating. She gave me crap about being a knight in shining armor, but she actually said she was happy that we were together.”

  “Wow. She’s getting soft. Did she say anything about how she brought Izzy down to the station?”

  “I did. I told her to knock it off. That if she tried to arrest her she’d have to go through me.” He winked. “I don’t think she was that impressed, but I do think she’s crossed her off the list.”

  “Does she have another suspect? Did she get more information?”

  Liam lifted his palms. “She didn’t confide in me on any of that.” He climbed down the ladder and plugged the lights in, nodding when everything lit up as planned. “Nice. We good for out here?” he asked Jake.

  Stan turned to Jake, who’d been quietly listening to the exchange. “It looks great,” she offered.

  Jake smiled. “Good. That’s what I was going for. You should see your sister’s house, though. I think her neighbors are jealous.”

  “Oh boy. That good, huh? We didn’t even get to decorate our tree yet.” She slipped her arm around his waist. “Come on. I’ll make you guys some hot chocolate. Liam? Coming?” Grabbing Jake’s hand, she tugged him inside. “Are you still hosting the party at the pub for the winners?”

  He nodded. “So it’s kind of good timing. Everything happens during the holiday stroll. And the party will be at night after you close the shop, so you won’t have to miss it.”

  She blew out a breath. “Yeah. I’m not sure I’m doing the grand opening, Jake.”

  “What? Why not? Didn’t Frank finish the window today?” He’d already pulled out his cell phone. “I told him he had to. He needs to get back over there—”

  “Jake. He’s done. They did a great job. Thank you for getting him so quickly.” She took off her coat and grabbed the cashew milk out of the refrigerator. “I just … I’m not in the mood.”

  “Now wait a second,” Liam cut in. “You can’t just not do it. Look at all the planning you’ve done. Twice.”

  “Exactly,” Jake said. “We’re getting the place up and running again, no? You can’t let them win, Stan.” He came over and grasped her arms, causing her to abandon her hot chocolate–making. “I won’t let you give in.”

  She locked eyes with him, grateful they’d made it back to each other. “Thank you for getting everyone to help. And Lester, with the tree.” She reached up and touched his cheek. “It meant everything that you did that.” She kissed him.

  Behind them, Liam cleared his throat. “Hey. I thought I was getting hot chocolate?” he asked.

  Chapter Forty-seven

  Once Liam left to go to Izzy’s, Stan told Jake about the phone call. “She couldn’t hear him and thought he was confessing to an affair with someone named Kelly,” she said, dropping her forehead into her palm. “What a disaster. And I couldn’t tell her differently. She’d tell the whole world.”

  “My God,” Jake said. “So what now?”

  “I don’t know. I called your sister, but she didn’t call me back.”

  “Were they still in Boston?”

  “No idea. The connection sounded bad.”

  “Well, at least we know he’s alive,” Jake said. “That’s a good thing.”

  “Yeah,” Stan agreed. But for how long?

  *

  Since Jake had taken the day off from the pub, he had to go in and help out for the night. Stan went to the town hall alone for the zoning board meeting. The public comment section on Kyle’s restaurant proposal was at the end, but she decided to go for the whole thing anyway. She grabbed a coffee at Izzy’s on the way; otherwise she was sure she’d fall asleep. Town zoning board meetings weren’t known for their excitement.

  When she arrived, Victoria and Miss Viv were already there. Kyle and Caitlyn were too. The pairs were each sitting as far from each other as they could manage.

  Oh boy. This could get ugly. She waved awkwardly at the sisters and sat down with Caitlyn and Kyle. They both looked nervous.

  “I hate this,” Kyle whispered.

  “You’ll be fine,” Caitlyn said, squeezing his hand. “Right, Stan?”

  “Of course,” Stan said, trying to avoid Victoria’s glare. “They’ll come around.”

  A couple of other people filed in
soon after. Stan recognized them as town meeting regulars—the types who loved to offer opinions on anything.

  After a coma-inducing session about a permit for a new fence around an existing farm and some updates on projects in progress, the head zoning official finally opened up the floor on the restaurant matter, letting Kyle speak first.

  “I’m Kyle McLeod, and I recently moved to town with my lovely fiancée, Caitlyn.”

  Caitlyn waved. Stan wanted to cover her eyes.

  “I’m a chef, and I’m looking to bring a vegan offering to town.” Kyle went on to explain his vision for the restaurant, how it would benefit the town, the new people he hoped to bring in. “And this is the perfect location for it,” he said. “It’s near a main road, there’s development already in the works, and plenty of new people will be moving in. I hope you’ll support this venture.” He sat back down, nervously twisting his hat in his hands.

  The zoning official looked unimpressed. “Anyone have anything to add?”

  One of the regulars, an old farmer, stood. “This is a farming community,” he said. “We don’t need a vegan restaurant here.” He spat the word vegan as if it were synonymous with Satan. “You’ll put the farmers out of business!”

  Before Kyle could stand to defend himself, Victoria rose. “The board should consider how something like this could disrupt the residents’ quality of life,” she said. “Especially the residents who’ve lived there for a long time. It’s bad enough we have condos and all these young people to deal with. Now we’re going to add drunken revelers and people who eat tofu to that list?”

  She sat down in a huff. Stan hid a smile. People who ate tofu were right up there with thieves and rapists, apparently.

  Kyle stood again. “We’re not looking to upset the farming community,” he said. “We want to be good partners, and we’re planning to source all our vegetables locally. We just want to give people another food option.”

  The conversation went on for another ten minutes, with Victoria getting increasingly more agitated. Miss Viv said nothing, just stared off into space, even when her sister nudged her to try to get her to chime in. Then, abruptly, Miss Viv got up and walked out as Caitlyn was speaking.

  Caitlyn trailed off. They all stared after her. The zoning official cleared his throat. “Please continue,” he said.

  Stan stole a glance at Victoria, who looked like she was about to blow her stack. But she refocused on the matter at hand and continued rebutting everything Kyle and Caitlyn had to say. The two of them looked exhausted from the effort of keeping up with her.

  When the meeting ended, Stan went over to Kyle. “You did a good job,” she said. “Don’t worry. This is just to check a box.” She lowered her voice. “They have no good reason to block you.”

  “I know. It’s just nerve-wracking.” Kyle took Caitlyn’s hand. “Hey, want to come over and see the house? We’re all done decorating.”

  Decorating. Shoot. She and Jake still hadn’t made time to do their tree. “Sure. Give me a few though, okay?” She waited until they filed out before she turned to Victoria, who still sat stiffly in her chair. “Can I sit for a second?” Stan asked.

  Victoria shrugged as if to say makes no difference to me. Stan sat. “I understand your concerns about the land,” she said. “I feel terrible for you that your family’s land had to be sold. But my sister and her fiancé don’t want to disrupt your life any further. They just love it here and want to make a living.”

  Victoria glared at her. “You don’t understand,” she said. “You have no idea what it’s like to lose everything. My parents—our parents—were so proud of that land. If they knew what had happened, they’d roll over in their graves.” She stared down at her lap, her eyes filling with tears. “And to be left with the house in such a condition, well, it’s overwhelming. I’ll have to sell that too when my sister leaves me. I’ll have to move into one of those awful condos.” Her last words caught on a sob.

  Stan’s heart ached for her. Victoria was right. She didn’t know what that was like, to lose everything. Especially in her seventies, which is probably where Victoria was. It must feel terrible.

  Her cell rang. It was Jake. “Excuse me,” she muttered and turned away to answer.

  “Stan. You better come down to the pub. Char’s here and she’s pretty drunk. She’s asking for you. Miss Viv’s here too, and they’re sort of brawling.”

  Chapter Forty-eight

  Abrawl between two late-middle-aged women was not exactly what Frog Ledge needed right now. Stan turned to Victoria.

  “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t the best time, but your sister is at McSwigg’s. She’s … having words with Char. Can you come help me talk sense into them?”

  Victoria brushed at a tear. “Leave it to my sister to make me forget one set of woes for another,” she said ruefully.

  When they arrived at the pub, a small crowd was gathered around Char and Miss Viv. Stan noticed Seamus’s friends in the fray, watching with amusement. Char was falling off her shoes as she shook a finger at Miss Viv. Miss Viv’s tiny hands were clenched into fists.

  “Good Lord in heaven,” Victoria said, and marched over to her sister. “What is going on here? And why did you leave me alone at the meeting?”

  “Oh, sissy, I’m sorry,” Miss Viv said, clasping her hands together. “But it was terribly boring. I came over to see if Seamus’s friends were here, and Char started … yelling at me.” She looked at Char reproachfully. “Saying Seamus led Ray astray. She’s just mad at me because she can’t control her husband.”

  Stan grabbed Char’s arm before she could clock Miss Viv. “Okay, ladies. Let’s take it easy,” she said. “Char, why don’t you come with me?”

  Victoria was dragging Miss Viv the other way, toward the door. She protested the entire time, but Victoria won and dragged her outside. Disappointed, everyone went back to their beers.

  Char wrenched her arm free from Stan. “Shoulda let me hit her.”

  “Char. This is not the way to behave,” Stan said. “Char!” But her friend had spotted Cyril and made a beeline for him.

  “Thank goodness!” she slurred. “I need to take out a personal ad.”

  “A what?” Cyril looked at Stan, astonished.

  “Don’t humor her,” Stan muttered, but unfortunately Char heard her.

  “Humor what? There’s nothing to humor,” Char huffed. “I’m getting divorced, and I need to get on the dating scene as soon as possible. Y’all know I’m not getting any younger, although I’m still a dish.” She fluffed her hair.

  “How much has she had to drink?” Cyril asked Stan.

  “Jake said a lot,” Stan confirmed. “I need to talk to you. But I have to get Char home.”

  “I’ll help you.” Cyril pocketed his notebook and stood. “Char,” he said loudly, “let’s go. We’re going to take you home.”

  Char sent him a dirty look. “I’m drunk, honey, not deaf. Stan, why is he here?”

  “I don’t know, Char, probably to get a drink. Which now he’s not getting. Come on. Let’s go.” She grabbed her friend’s arm.

  “Oh, I know. My personal ad.” Char got up, swaying slightly. “I need to tell Cyril here all about that dirty skunk Raymond and what he’s been up to.”

  “Char.” Stan looked at Cyril and shook her head. “What happened to not talking about this, like I asked?”

  Char frowned at her. “Don’t tell me what to do, missy. I have nothing to be ashamed of.”

  “Well, if that’s true,” Cyril said, raising his eyebrows at Stan, “it’s his loss. But remember, Char. I only run personal ads once a month. You’ll have to wait for the next round to get on the schedule.” He winked at Stan. She flashed him a thumbs-up.

  “Let’s go,” Stan said, taking a firmer grasp of Char’s arm to pull her along.

  Cyril took Char’s other arm. Stan waved to Jake, who watched from behind the bar, shaking his head. They went outside.

  “How did you get here?”
Stan asked.

  “I drove.”

  “Well, we’ll have to get your car tomorrow. Come on.” They loaded her into Stan’s car and drove to the B and B. Once Stan had put her to bed, she went down to where Cyril waited at the front door. They got back in Stan’s car.

  “What was that all about?” Cyril asked. “She’s not really divorcing Ray, is she?”

  Stan groaned. “You won’t believe this.” She told him about the phone call. “I think he was trying to tell her about the Book of Kells. She heard Kelly and thinks he was telling her he ran off with someone.”

  “Well. That’s a mess,” Cyril said.

  “No kidding, crack reporter,” Stan said.

  “Hey, you don’t have to get personal.”

  “One thing’s bothering me about this whole mess, though,” Stan said. “Did Jessie ever say what type of poison was used?”

  Cyril shook his head. “Not to me. I asked. She deflected.”

  “Regardless. Poison seems like a lot of work for a gangster. Why wouldn’t they just shoot Seamus?”

  Cyril thought about it. “That’s a good point.”

  “I mean, I still think the Book of Kells is the key, but that’s tripping me up. I wish I could get someone like Kevin to really talk.”

  He smiled. “I may have a lead, actually.”

  “You do? What is it?”

  “I can’t tell you until I know if it pans out.” He leaned closer. “But it may involve one of these so-called friends.”

  Stan frowned. “Who? Kevin?”

  “Sit tight,” Cyril said. “If all goes well, I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Forty-nine

  Stan tried the whole ride back to the pub to get him to tell her, but he refused to budge. She dropped him off, annoyed but grudgingly admiring of his dedication to his sources. She’d just gotten back to the house when her cell rang again.

  “Hey,” Izzy said. “Liam and I just went by your shop and there were lights on, but I didn’t see your car. Wanted to make sure everything was kosher.”

  “Lights on?” Stan’s heart started to pound. “I’m not there, and I know I didn’t leave the lights on. Was there a car outside? Is Brenna there?”