Hildie couldn’t hide her smile. “I’m a little busy, with these Christmas Markets coming up, Harvey…but I could be free tomorrow night. Oh – you have a dinner date tomorrow. I forgot.”
“No, I don’t. I’ll just take Miss Pickles into the clinic in the afternoon if she’s having a bad day. So…I’ll meet you here at, say, 6 o’clock? That’ll give us time for a quick bite first.”
“No, I don’t think so, Harvey.”
His eyes drooped and he looked confused.
“Just come by my place at 5:30. Essie and I are having pot roast tomorrow. Then we’ll go to the theater from there.”
Essie rolled her eyes but went along with the program. “Yes, we always have so much left over, Harvey. It would be nice if you were there to help us out.”
“Would you like to make it a double tomorrow night, Essie?” Toe asked eagerly. I’m not sure if he was more interested in Essie’s company or the pot roast.
“Well, I think the roast is big enough for all of us. And I haven’t seen White Christmas in years. I’d like that, Toe.”
Yeah, I’m good. A nice double date is better than another attempted murder, don’t you think? And Hildie did a pretty good job of bumping Cora Applegate out of the picture and tempting Harvey with her cooking skills too – and I always thought Essie was the devious one. Wait a minute…I guess I’ll be working alone all afternoon and evening tomorrow! Drat!
“Heidi Ho, boys and girls!”
Jules made a rare appearance through the front door of the coffee shop wearing one of those vertical headband things with big brown reindeer antlers and a round Rudolph nose.
“I’m checking to see who’s naughty and nice for Santa Claus…so you better watch out…you better not pout!”
She always had such a light and joyful spirit and seemed to be in a particularly festive mood today.
“Hi, Jules. Hot or cold tea today?”
“Peppermint mocha latte, please,” she said with a smile as she sat at the counter and removed the red nose. “Your relief will be here in a minute, Lily. Trevor just walked Moira into my shop, and they had to finish talking about the high school play or something.”
“Yeah, or maybe for a little smooching in aisle 3. And since when did you become a coffee drinker?”
“Since peppermint mocha tea tastes awful, and I wanted to drink in the spirit of the holiday. It tastes more like hot chocolate than coffee anyway. And the kids know I’ve got security cameras all over the place in there. Anyway, Moira promised her mom that she wouldn’t do any kissing until she’s 15 and a half.”
I squeezed an extra couple of squirts of chocolate syrup into the steaming mug and set it in front of Jules just as Trevor came in the front door.
“Well, they’re both good kids…and here comes Trevor now. Ready to work Trev?”
“Yup! I like to jump into it right from school before my energy has a chance to dwindle away. Go ahead and sit down, Miss Parker.”
I topped off my over-sized mug with fresh hot coffee and looked away as I squirted chocolate into it. If I don’t see it, it doesn’t have any calories, right? Besides, I just had half a bagel for lunch…and I didn’t look at the cream cheese I spread on it either. We moved to my command post table near the open end of the counter, and our thoughts turned to Mildred and the events that had unfolded last weekend at the Christmas Markets.
“Has Eli found out anything new about what happened to Mildred or the vandalism, Lily?”
“A little bit. They ruled out a fall because there was no blood on the corner of the counter, and they’re pretty sure she fell forward. The deep wound on the back of her head looks like it could have been made by a ballpeen hammer, you know, those ones with the round head. And they found the same fingerprints in Mildred’s shop and in the Rain or Shine place, all over the merchandise cases that were damaged. The prints aren’t on file, so it’s somebody without a criminal record. But the size of the palm made Eli think it might be a teenager, and – the person had a scar right down the middle of their thumbprint. They found an empty can of spray paint in one of the garbage cans, but it had totally different fingerprints”
“Interesting.” She looked thoughtful and perplexed. “Maybe it’s about time we put the pieces together and figure out what’s going on, Lily. Who did these terrible things?”
“And was the same person or people behind both the vandalism and the attack?”
“I hate to say it, but that 45 or 50-year-old Gypsy guy looks pretty evil, the way he stands around, lording over his family members with his arms folded, looking like a guard in a prison camp.”
“Well, he is the king, so I don’t know, Jules. His hand is probably too big to fit the prints – although the son he called Daniel might be about the right size. And his kids and nephews and nieces are all very happy-go-lucky and cheerful, so it doesn’t seem like he’s some kind of evil dictator. And his daughter, Esmeralda, is a real gem.”
“As far as you know, maybe. But have you ever seen him get after one of the kids? I mean, I was in that honey place taking pictures of some of their bonnets for the paper, and two of the little kids were laughing and playing. You should have seen the way they snapped back to work when he gave them a really menacing stare.”
“Yeah, maybe he bashed Mildred’s head in with a viscous glare from his evil eyes.”
She gave me a sarcastic look. “Point taken…but who else could it be?”
“Well, the place that sold sunglasses and umbrellas might have been taking business away from the place not far from them that sold baseball caps and rain ponchos. They were both going for sales related to the weather – the sun and the rain. And Gladys said that she dropped Mildred off there at 7 o’clock in the morning; so maybe Mildred saw something, and they snuck up behind her and hit her over the head to keep her from talking. Poor old girl.”
“I’m not so sure it was Jill and Mark from the caps and ponchos booth, Jules, but you might be on to something with the idea that Mildred was attacked because she saw the shenanigans going on.”
Essie came over and patted me on the shoulder as the foursome of seniors got up from their table. “You’re on you own now, Lily! We’re all going to stop by Sinking Springs to see how Mildred is doing. They brought her back from the hospital in Sabina this morning. She finally woke up yesterday, you know. And she’s in the special nursing unit at the retirement village with Gladys now.”
“That’s nice that they’re together at least,” I said. “Please give my regards…”
“Mine too!” Jules added.
“…and maybe bring them a muffin or something.”
“Take the little snowman too,” Jules said. “It might brighten up their day. I’ll bring over another one for you here.”
“The snowman’s a good idea,” Hildie said, grabbing it from behind the counter, “since we don’t have time to get flowers. Then we’ll all go home and get ready for Bingo.”
“Have fun at Bingo, you guys, and Harvey – give us a little plug again. That gave us a pretty good bump last Tuesday. We’ll keep the lights on for you and stay open an extra hour or two.”
“Toe!” Jules called out. “Can you stop by and pick up a stack of tomorrow’s newspapers before you go to the church?”
“Yes, ma’am!” He said with a wave as they all headed out the front door.
“What kind of heart-stopping surprise do you have in store for me this week, Jules? ”
She gave me a crafty smile. “Mmmm…you’ll see, Lily. You’ll see.”
There were still a few tables of kids who fancied themselves to be after-school “coffeehouse hipsters.” Trevor was taking care of them very well as the late afternoon began to turn into early evening.
The little bell on the front door tinkled. I thought maybe Hildie and Essie had forgotten something, but it wasn’t them. It was a lovely, professional-looking woman about my age with her auburn hair pulled into a bun. She was carrying a small white bag.
“Hi,�
�� I greeted her. “Any table is fine. Coffee today?”
“No, thank you,” she said, looking around. “I was told I might find Harvey Davis in here.”
“Oh!” Jules looked more closely at the woman. “You’re Doctor Dawson, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I’m Sandy. I think I saw you taking pictures on Saturday…” Then she looked at me. “…and you were there at the booth where they found the unconscious woman.”
I was confused for a minute, but then it dawned on me. “Of course, yes – you were Mrs. Santa Claus.” We all exchanged introductions. “What can we do for you today? Harvey just left 5 minutes ago, but he’ll be back after Bingo. Sit down…join us for a minute.”
Jules brought her a cup of holiday coffee.
“Well, my Santa had told me that his dad’s cat was ill…”
“Yes, it was me who called you on Friday night, and you sent your tech over to take care of it. Thank you.” She seemed very nice, but she really wasn’t Eli’s type – was she? Nah.
“Yes, well, I thought I would just drop off a bag of our cat treats for him. I met Harvey earlier in the week, and he got a bag of our kibble, but these are just fun treats he can give her for a little boost of energy now that she’s better.”
“Well, thank you,” I said. “You can leave them here, and I’ll give them to him. Eli should be here pretty soon too. He’s my…”
“Oh, I know. He talked about you non-stop when we were waiting to start our rounds as Mr. and Mrs. Claus. He’s a wonderful man, very dedicated to you, and I’m sure you feel very blessed to have him in your life.”
The bell tinkled again. It was Eli.
“Oh, no!” he joked. “My Mrs. and my girlfriend are here together. Not plotting my murder, I hope?”
He gave me a little kiss on the lips, and Jules moved over one chair so Eli could sit by me.
“Not yet,” I said. “…as long as you aren’t planning any trips to your North Pole getaway.”
Sandy laughed and blushed a little. “Oh, no…I prefer those little elves, you know. But, hey – in Santa’s world, you would be the ‘other woman,’ wouldn’t you?”
There was an awkward moment of silence, and Sandy Dawson got a fearful expression on her face. I could see that she was feeling that maybe she was trying to become too familiar with our little group too soon.
I looked at Eli, and we both broke into laughter to break the tension.
“That’s right! You are Mrs. Claus,” I said.
She shot me an apologetic look, and I gave her a “Don’t worry about it” smile and shake of my head.
“Look,” she said, passing the bag to Eli, “Can you please give this to your dad, Mr. Davis?”
“Sure,” he said, “and we appreciate the way your technician is still treating Miss Pickles on her own.”
Sandy got a perplexed look. “Still treating the cat? I thought she would be fine by now.”
“Well, she has good days and bad days.”
“I see. Well, there do seem to be quite a few similar cases lately. We’ve had a lot of sick cats these past few weeks. Maybe your dad’s cat keeps getting re-infected. I think with all of the Christmas plants around, the cats are feasting on things they should stay away from. But the poinsettias and mistletoe are not really life threatening for them. They will get them sick for a day or two, though. And these treats should help them get their vim and vigor back a little more quickly.”
Sandy finished her coffee and left for home. Jules had been pretty quiet for a while, but her mind seemed to be going 90 miles an hour. That’s what made her such a good investigative journalist, but it also caught her up in a lot of wild goose chases and conspiracy quagmires that led to dead ends.
Eli got up and went behind the counter. Trevor started to get up from the table with his friends, but Eli waved him back down and got himself a cold bottle of cranberry lemonade. I’m getting him trained into the program.
“I’d get you ladies refills, but I don’t know how to work that thing.”
And I’m sure he wanted to keep it that way.
“Yeah, it’s a lot like brain surgery, Eli,” I told him. “You have to push a button on the espresso machine or push the top of the airpot a couple of times for regular coffee. Maybe some time when you have a couple of days off, I’ll show you.”
He smiled and sat back down. “So, Jules…you look like you’re a million miles away all of a sudden. What’s on your mind?”
She took in a breath and let it out. “Well…you know how sometimes you hear about a guy from a tire store who goes around slashing tires at night and then sells a bunch of tires the next day? Or somebody will shoot out windshields because they own a windshield service kind of place?”
Eli and I weren’t quite sure where she was going with this.
“Did something happen to your car?” Eli asked.
“No, no…nothing like that. But there are a lot of cats getting sick all of a sudden, and the Christmas plants set up the perfect smoke screen to blame it on.”
“Wait.” I looked at Eli and then at Jules. “So, you think Sandy Dawson is poisoning cats to drum up business?”
Jules gave me an “I don’t know…maybe” kind of shrug.
Eli looked skeptical, but the scenario did have a lot of logic behind it…and Mildred was selling cat kibble too, so taking her out of the picture would bring in more cat food sales too.
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Chapter Five
The second weekend of the Christmas Markets was bigger and better than ever. Apparently the TV and big city newspaper reporters who came to report on the vandalism and the attack brought back some nice feature stories on the wonderful small town Christmas wonderland. A huge snowman made of foam and lights was now decorating the middle of the park with bouncy inflatable slides and ships and castles for the kids. Other vendors set up small booths and food carts outside of the main market area too.
Of course, Jules and I had to take a look on Saturday morning. Jules had her camera and notepad, and we split a genuine Chicago hotdog during our little tour.
“Let’s walk through the main market, Lily,” Jules suggested. “I’ve got to get a few new shots for next Wednesday’s paper, and the focus on the crime stuff kept me from seeing it all last week.”
“Me too. Eli’s doing the Santa thing right now, so maybe we’ll run into him.”
“Plus we can snoop around and see if we can pick up any more clues about the crime.”
We stopped in front of the big Christmas tree and stared at it in wonder like a couple of little girls. And, yes, we each made a Christmas wish. My wish was probably a little more selfish that Jules’; I wished for snow and that Eli would keep loving me the way he seems to lately, and I’m sure that Jules wished for world peace or clean water for Western Africa or something.
We made it past the Cabana East without being seen or called into active duty. They were busy enough, but Essie and Hildie seemed to have it covered.
“So, did you get all your shopping done yet, Lily? They have so many great gift items here.”
“Ha! Well, Essie hates everything and Hildie doesn’t want anything – and I have no idea what to get for Eli. I think I know what I’m going to get you, though.”
“Don’t get me…”
“Stop it! You already bought something for me, didn’t you?”
“Well…maybe, but I got that nice lump sum from the divorce when we sold the house…”
“And the Coffee Cabana has been doing really well lately. It’s not like I’m going to spring for those Dolce & Gabbana crystal satin pumps for five thousand dollars that we saw in Orlando.”
“Oh – well, those you can get for me if you want!”
We both had a laugh over that. But then Jules seemed to freeze as her eyes settled on something up ahead.
“Whoa…”
“What is
it, Jules?”
She kept looking straight ahead into a booth 20 steps in front of us where the cobblestone path curved to the right. There was an old well-dressed woman inside.
“Who is that?”
“Cruella DeVille,” she said quite matter-of-factly. “Maggie Reynolds Baxter Livingston Harris Ledger Cooper Fleetwood – living proof that the good die young. She wrecked a lot of homes, including my grandmother’s. The old bat married every man in town and drove every one of them to an early grave, accumulating a lot of wealth in the process. She must be over 90. I thought she would be dead by now, but it looks like she’s still got some game.”
“Ohhhh. Is she the one who got divorced and then married someone else every time Liz Taylor did?”
Jules nodded.
“Yoo hoo!”
“Oh, crud. She’s waving me over now. Smile,” Jules said plastering on the phoniest, most plastic smile I’d ever seen. “Let’s go and see how pretentious and insincere we can be, shall we?”
“Let’s!” I put on the toothiest smile that had been on my face since my 3rd grade picture.
“Jules, darling! How has my favorite little granddaughter been? It’s been years.”
“I’m doing fine…Grandmother.” Jules’ term of endearment jabbed the woman like a knife, which I’m sure was Jules’ intent. “And you’re looking quite young and well yourself. Have you had some work done?”
“Please…call me Maggie.” The woman kept a large smile on her face, but the mood beneath it seemed to shift a little. “And, you know…a nip here and a tuck there. A girl has to keep up appearances. You’ll find out, dear, in another year or two.”
Yikes. I took a step back to avoid getting cut in this sword fight.
“Of course, Maggie. You’ll have to give me your surgeon’s name. He must be a real magician to make you look like an attractive woman.”
“Oh, he does all of his work in Monte Carlo now, sweetheart – but I can give you the name of a doctor in Orlando who will do a nice job with the augmentation that you need so badly.”
Peppermint Pandemonium: A Cozy Mystery (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book 5) Page 4
