Season of Danger: Silent Night, Deadly NightMistletoe Mayhem

by Alexander, Hannah; Alexander, Hannah

  “Not until the lab confirms a food-borne agent rather than simply some variation of the flu. We should know before the end of the day tomorrow, and then we’ll have the clout to close.”

  Matt snapped his phone shut on a groan. His neighbor couldn’t stand him, and now he could mess up his rapport with the rest of the town by investigating a restaurant in Abbottsville. But the alternative was unacceptable—more people falling ill, potentially dying. Well, if worst came to worst, and the town hated his guts because of his job, he could always relocate. Again.

  At 5:58 a.m., Matt pulled into a parking space across the street from the main restaurant in town, Brenda’s Kitchen. The stone-and-timber establishment was located on the north end of the one-thoroughfare business district. The structure was well-maintained, but looked like it had stood sentry on this spot since dirt was created. Numerous pickups and cars idled outside, exhaust fogging the darkness. Promptly at 6:00 a.m., the Open light came on in the window.

  Matt hefted his bulky kit and stepped into the winter morning. When the sun came up, temps should reach into the low forties, but right now, he was glad for his down-filled jacket. The staccato clamor of slamming car doors echoed in the pre-dawn gloom. His breath painted white trails in the air as he joined a surge of patrons who jostled and joshed and called, “Merry Christmas,” like they’d known each other since the building had been constructed.

  Yeasty, savory smells welcomed them, and the patrons dispersed to quaintly dated booths and tables, much like folks on Sunday morning beelining for their favorite pews. Perfect—on his second day of residency in Abbottsville, he had to approach the owner of what amounted to a community landmark with the dreaded E phrase on his lips—suspicion of e. coli.

  Matt approached the cash register and set his testing kit at his feet. The black bag resembled an oversize briefcase and seldom attracted a second glance from patrons. Shortly afterward, a fortyish waitress with a thin build and a strained smile paused in her scurrying.

  “Merry Christmas,” she said. “Can I help you?”

  A pin on her right shoulder identified her as Chelsea. He requested to see the owner or manager and was escorted to the entrance of the kitchen.

  “Brenda, someone here to see you.” Chelsea grabbed a coffee pot and hustled off.

  The cook, a generous-figured woman about his own age and clad in a white apron, turned from the industrial-size griddle. She held gloved hands upright and away from her body almost like a surgeon. Her brown hair was pinned atop her head and encased in a mesh net. She wore little makeup, and her only jewelry was a pink ribbon pin, symbolic of the fight against breast cancer.

  “We were inspected two months ago,” Brenda said, eyeing his kit.

  Matt lifted one corner of his mouth. The details patrons didn’t notice about his kit, business owners did. “I’m Matt Bennett from the Tennessee Department of Health. We’ve got suspicious cases in the area.”

  Her shoulders slumped. “Come on in and do what’s necessary. As you can see, I run a tight ship. I’d better get back at it.” She turned toward her griddle and flipped eggs.

  Matt went to the massive stainless steel refrigerator. He retrieved his paperwork and clipboard from the kit, as well as sample-gathering containers. Then he donned gloves.

  “Brenda, you didn’t tell me you hired new kitchen help.”

  The familiar voice stopped Matt as he reached into the refrigerator. He turned to look into a pair of crystal-green eyes. Kelly stood in the kitchen doorway. Her cool assessment sent tingles to his toes—like a peppermint bath.

  Brenda snorted. “Mr. Bennett’s from the state health department.”

  Kelly’s eyes narrowed. “I thought you aced your routine inspection.”

  “We did.” Brenda motioned the other woman into the kitchen, darted a sidelong look at Matt, then leaned close to Kelly. “This is not routine.”

  The urgent hiss barely carried to Matt’s ears.

  Eyes wide, Kelly turned toward him. “You’re investigating my sister’s establishment for cause?” Her tone was sharp enough to slice warm bread.

  Matt looked from Kelly to Brenda and back again. These two were sisters? The only resemblance was the firm, slightly pointed chin. His stomach turned to lead. If he was toast with Kelly Granger yesterday, he was mud today.

  “Just doing my job, miss.” The flat statement sounded as lame as it felt to his heart.

  “Lighten up, Kell,” Brenda said. “If folks are getting sick, we need to find out why.”

  Kelly deflated, but her gaze never left Matt’s. “Do you mean symptoms like the stomach flu but it’s not the flu?”

  Matt nodded. “You’ll probably start hearing word around town soon that people have been hospitalized.”

  Her cheeks paled. “I think you should stop over to my vet clinic. Half a dozen pets came in yesterday with flu-like symptoms. We almost lost a couple of them. Maybe you’d like to send my biological samples in with yours. You’d have a fast track to get them processed.”

  Matt studied the strong features of the woman who gazed steadily back at him. Slender, straight nose. Full, though not pouty, lips. Eyebrows, dark slashes above those striking eyes. The combination, along with the rich fire of her hair, was arresting.

  “I’ll come over as soon as I finish here.”

  His pulse quickened as he watched her walk away. Faded jeans and a long-sleeved flannel shirt resembled designer clothes on her. Maybe this assignment wasn’t a total disaster if it gave him an opportunity to spend time with this intriguing woman.

  Kelly drove to her clinic in the fresh morning light, kneading the steering wheel. When Matt zeroed those intense blue eyes in on her, she’d almost changed her mind about having him stop by the clinic. Of course, her reluctance for further association stemmed from concern for her sister’s business, not the stupid kabump her heart did at the sight of his dimples. But if the pet illnesses were related to the human illnesses, they needed to know as soon as possible, whether or not her annoying neighbor was investigating her sister’s restaurant.

  Kelly parked in her usual spot behind the clinic. Tim’s compact car was already there. She headed toward the rear entrance and frowned. Why was the door ajar? Tim must not have closed it firmly behind him when he opened up.

  “Hey, Tim!” She stepped inside and shut the door.

  Barks and meows answered from her overnight patients. She hurried toward the convalescent room and then skidded to a halt as she passed an exam room. Her jaw dropped as she stared at a mess that rivaled the disaster on her front lawn last night. Had some wild animal entered through the partially open door? Is that why her patients were going bonkers? Her heart stuttered. Was Tim all right?

  Kelly glanced from right to left. No movement. No foreign sounds. The pets had settled into an occasional yip or mewl. Kelly soft-footed toward the convalescent room. Her gaze darted from side to side and spotted more wreckage in the opposite exam area. She pulled her cell phone from her shoulder bag and punched in 9-1-1 by feel.

  Scarcely daring to breathe, she peered around the doorframe of the convalescent room. The plastic feeding bucket lay on its side in the middle of the floor, dry pet food strewn around it. The pets in their cages were awake and staring at her.

  “Tim?” The word rasped from her throat as barking and meowing gained momentum.

  She put the phone to her ear in time to hear a male voice say, “What is the nature of your emergency?”

  Kelly opened her mouth, but a wad of cloth cut off her words. An arm encircled her from behind, pinning one of her arms to her side. She flailed backward with the other, and her elbow connected with flesh. Her assailant’s grip tightened, squeezing the air from her chest. She lost her hold on the phone, and it skittered across the floor. Instinctively, she inhaled for a scream, and a sweet odor filled her senses. Her mind clouded, her body went slack, and blackness cut off awareness.

  TWO

  “You and your sister live and work in the same tow
n,” Matt commented to Brenda, who bustled around like she was a cross between a honeybee and an ant.

  “Born and raised here. Our folks were killed in an accident a while back, so we’re all each other have. Except I’m married and have a little girl. My husband, Jerry, is in the service and deployed for the next few months, though. We especially miss him at Christmastime.” She sighed. “But he should be home before next Christmas.” A smile flickered.

  “Being a mom and running a restaurant must keep you busy while you wait,” Matt said as he labeled a sample.

  “I’m thankful for a healthy little girl and a good business.” Brenda bobbed her head. “Kell and I inherited equal shares of the restaurant, but I bought her out so she’d have money to go to veterinary school without borrowing. I thought she’d stay in the city to practice, but she didn’t like that atmosphere, so Abbottsville was glad to welcome her home. Her vet office is at the other end of Main.” Brenda cranked a thumb in a northward direction. “In fact,” she paused in her whirlwind activities, “Kell saved our dog’s life last night.” Then she pivoted toward the service window. “Order up!”

  Brenda continued with her comfortable chatter as Matt worked. He discovered that her little girl, Felice, was three and a half years old and a “real go-getter,” and Chelsea, the waitress, was California born and bred but married to a local guy. From the twist of Brenda’s lips when she said that last part, Matt inferred she didn’t much care for Mr. Local.

  Then she asked him a few questions, like where he was from. When he confessed he’d moved in next to Kelly, she rounded on him, eyes narrowed. Her gaze scanned him up and down as though she hadn’t really looked at him yet. She gave particular attention to his left hand.

  Matt’s bare ring finger tingled. He would always miss Carrie, but if he ever hoped to have a family, he had to be open to whoever God might bring into his life. A vision of red hair and green eyes appeared to him. Hah! Like that was a promising prospect after their rough start.

  “Hmm.” Brenda lifted her brows and went back to work.

  Matt blinked. If, by some miracle, he found the opportunity to pursue his interest in Kelly—despite the odds—had he found an ally or an enemy? The answer might depend on what his health investigation revealed.

  A door slammed in the back of the restaurant as Chelsea labored into the kitchen, struggling with an overly full tub of dirty dishes. Matt rushed to help her before the whole thing wound up on the floor. The assistance wasn’t technically correct, coming from a man in his position, but sometimes common decency needed to overrule the guidebook. He set the heavy tub on the counter near the dishwasher.

  Chelsea accepted his help with a smile, then looked beyond him and frowned. “Greg, it’s about time. You’re late!”

  Matt turned to see a medium-tall teenager slouch from the back room into the kitchen, tying an apron around his husky form. The kid scowled, brown bangs half covering one of his downcast eyes. He went straight to the dishes and began loading them into the dishwasher tray. From his looks, he could be related to Chelsea. The waitress muttered more scolds and returned to her customers.

  Brenda sent a shrug toward Matt. “Greg is Chelsea’s boy. We want our kids to be perfect—for their own good, of course. He must have forgotten to set his alarm again.” She said that last sentence loudly enough for Chelsea’s son to hear over the dish clatter. “Teenagers need their beauty sleep, eh, Gregster?” The restaurant owner poked her dishwashing help in the arm as she hustled past him toward the pantry.

  The kid shrugged, but a grin twitched his thin lips. Brenda had a way with young people. She had a good heart. Matt could only hope that his investigation didn’t reveal anything that hurt her.

  He started packing up. What might Kelly have to show him at her vet clinic? If the animal illnesses were linked to the human illnesses, then food poisoning might not be the cause. If not, then the list of diseases that could infect both pets and people was pretty narrow, and most of them didn’t share the symptoms of food-borne pathogens. Could the problem be traced to some other kind of toxin? That was a scary thought.

  He waved toward Brenda and received a brief nod as she put another order up. Greg whipped his head around, and Matt got a look at his right eye. Either the kid had walked into a lamppost, or someone had slugged him. Fistfight between peers or trouble at home? The question played across Matt’s mind as he left the restaurant in search of Kelly’s vet clinic.

  He studied the town as he drove the length of the main street. Abbottsville might not be big, but the area boasted solid working farms, so businesses clung to life like barnacles to rock. However, this potential food-poisoning outbreak could work a financial tragedy on the community. He prayed that it didn’t.

  Ahead on his left, he spotted a blue, steel-sided building that sported a sign proclaiming Abbottsville Veterinary Clinic above a large picture window. The single-story clinic was barely the size of Kelly’s modest bungalow, but much of her business would be going out to farms to treat livestock. Pets were probably the smallest part of her practice.

  No lights showed through the window. It was too early for the front door to be open, so he wheeled his car to the back and found a pair of vehicles parked in a small area sheltered by pine trees. He parked beside Kelly’s Explorer and got out. Shivering against a gust of bitter wind, he tromped toward a door set in a utility area that held a couple of kennels and a waste disposal site.

  That was odd. The back door stood wide open. He couldn’t picture meticulous Kelly being so careless. He stepped over the threshold and called her name. Barks and yips answered him. The hallway lay dark beyond the stretch of dawning daylight that filtered through the door behind him. He spotted a light switch on the wall and flipped it, then shut the door on the wintry blast invading the building.

  A series of can lights in the ceiling spread illumination up the passageway. Matt’s gaze froze on a form crumpled on the floor several yards ahead. His heart jumped.

  “Kelly!” He charged forward and knelt beside her still body.

  His neighbor looked as if she’d melted to the floor like an abandoned rag doll. The pale profile and blue lips were not a good sign. Matt touched the side of her delicate throat and then released a breath. Her pulse was strong and steady beneath his fingers. She moaned softly, and her eyelids fluttered, then popped open. A tiny shriek left her throat as she lunged into a half-sit, leaning on one arm.

  “Take it easy.” Matt reached out to steady her.

  Kelly scrambled backward, avoiding his touch, her gaze wild.

  “It’s me. Matt. You’re all right.” At least he hoped that was true. “What happened?”

  Her gaze found his and focused. The fear drained from her face. “I d-don’t know…exactly.” Her teeth chattered, and she hugged herself.

  Matt scooted forward and wrapped his arms around her. She snuggled, her body shaking.

  “Somebody g-grabbed me,” she said. “And put something over my mouth, and everything went dark.”

  Heat burst through Matt’s insides. Some lowlife had knocked Kelly out and then left the door open? If her attacker showed up this minute, Matt would show him cold, all right. In two seconds flat. Kelly buried her face in Matt’s jacket, and he hugged her closer, willing his warmth into her.

  “Tim!” The word burst out, garbled against the fabric of his jacket. She pulled her face away and stared up at him.

  “You’re saying some guy named Tim did this?”

  “Of course not. Tim is my assistant. He was here ahead of me. His car is out back, but I haven’t found him. We need to look. What if—” She pressed trembling fingers to her lips and struggled to rise.

  Matt helped her up. “You’re sure you’re okay? We should call the police.”

  “Yes, and find Tim.” She gazed around, dazed wildness again creeping over her face.

  Whatever drug her attacker had used still had her disoriented.

  “Listen.” Matt took her arm. “Let’s find you a
place to sit down. We’ll call the police, and then I’ll look for Tim.”

  A low, human groan wafted from the area that housed the source of animal mewls and snuffles.

  “The convalescent room.” Kelly wobbled in that direction.

  Matt caught up with her and supported her by the elbow as they entered a large area. A double row of cages filled one wall, half of them occupied by agitated pets.

  “Tim!”

  Matt followed Kelly’s horrified stare toward the floor behind a worktable. Pet food was strewed across the linoleum, and a small bucket lay empty on its side. In the middle of the mess, a thin man sprawled on his back, unmoving. A red mask of blood covered his face.

  Heart pounding, Kelly knelt by Tim’s prone form and checked for a pulse. Oh, please, God, let him be alive. Air left her in a whoosh. Yes! A vein throbbed beneath her fingers. Tim groaned and stirred.

  “Call emergency.” She gazed up at Matt to see that he was already on his cell phone.

  Tim moved, opened his eyes and tried to sit up. Kelly pushed him down. “Stay still. Help is on the way.”

  Seeing her assistant injured on the floor drove away the last vestiges of mental haze from the drug the intruder had used to subdue her. Her chilled body heated with a raw boil that flooded her veins.

  Matt joined her at Tim’s side. “What happened?”

  Tim clasped a hand to his forehead, which sported a big goose egg and a bleeding gash. “D-dunno. Did I fall?”

  “Not hardly.” Matt spread his jacket over the injured man.

  “Thank you.” She ventured a smile at her neighbor. The guy was thoughtful. She should maybe thaw a little toward him. “The intruder must have hit you,” she said to Tim.

  “Intruder?” Her assistant puckered his brow and winced.