Silent Knife (A Celebration Bay Mystery)

by Freydont, Shelley

  “Fish don’t wait.”

  The pastor clapped him on the back.

  “Would it be okay if I left Whiskey somewhere? I didn’t have time to go home after the . . . uh . . .”

  “Of course. Leo?”

  A young man serving as usher stepped over. “This is Ms. Montgomery, Leo. Leo helps me out at the community center.”

  “Ma’am.”

  They solemnly shook hands.

  “And this is Mr. Bristow.”

  “Oh, I know Chaz. He takes us fishing.” Leo grinned at Chaz, who gave him a quick thumbs-up.

  “Indeed,” the pastor said, giving Chaz an appraising look. “Could you show Ms. Montgomery to my office?” He leaned down to pat Whiskey. “I have a very comfy chair. But please don’t eat my sermon.”

  “Maybe I shouldn’t leave him,” Liv said.

  “I’ll stay with him, Pastor. I like dogs and they like me.”

  “Well, that’s excellent, Leo. But you don’t want to sing?”

  “No sir. I like to sing, but I can’t remember the words.”

  “Well, all things solved.”

  Liv handed Whiskey over to Leo.

  “I’ll take real good care of him, miss.”

  “He will,” Pastor Schorr said. “He’s a gentle spirit, our Leo.”

  They took two scores from another usher and went inside.

  “You take kids fishing?” Liv asked.

  “When I get tired of them pestering me.”

  She nodded and smiled as people turned to look at them. They passed the Newlands and Jason. Mrs. Newland, whom Liv had never really met, gave her a heartfelt smile. Jason, with Bobby sitting quietly on his lap, smiled tentatively. Mr. Newland, looking even frailer than he had on Sunday, just stared into the half distance.

  People whispered as they passed. Everyone was relieved and curious. “Maybe I should have just gone home and stayed.”

  “Too late now.”

  They passed the Waterbury pew. Joss and his wife, Amanda, both smiled and nodded. Donnie was leaning forward talking to a girl in the pew in front of them. Roseanne was sitting behind them with several other teenage girls. She waved when she saw Liv. Then she saw Chaz and gave Liv a thumbs-up.

  Great. Roseanne thought she was on a date.

  “You don’t have to walk me down the aisle.”

  “I don’t plan on it.”

  Liv frowned at him. “What? Oh. Don’t worry. I just meant, you didn’t have to stay.”

  “And miss the ‘Hallelujah Chorus’?”

  Miss Edna saw them, waved, and scooted over to make room. BeBe widened her eyes at Liv from the far side of Miss Edna. Miss Ida patted Liv’s hand, a gesture that encompassed so many feelings that Liv felt an unnatural urge to burst into tears.

  But the lights lowered. The choir took their place on the risers that had been placed across the front, and the sound of scores opening rustled across the room. Liv saw Ted standing between Jeremiah Atkins and Hank Ousterhout. Penny was a few rows down. Liv could tell she had been crying, but she stood tall and determined.

  The music started, wafting over them in a pure melodic line, a soothing balm. It grew, swelled, gathered them in and lifted them up.

  When they came to the first chorus, Liv sang with the others. It was something she didn’t do much anymore. But she would from now on. Next to her, Chaz’s voice was a clear baritone. On key and he didn’t miss a note.

  She glanced over at him. He shrugged.

  Penny’s solo was spellbinding, singing her thanks, her faithfulness, her love, and, Liv guessed, her relief at being alive.

  Bill slipped into the pew beside them just in time for the “Hallelujah Chorus.” He leaned over Chaz to Liv and said, “Singing like birds, both of them. I think it was a relief for Nancy finally to be caught. Grace, however.” He rolled his eyes. “She’ll get off with a warning probably. A fine for withholding evidence. But she’s finished here.”

  The introduction began, music swelled, and the singers all stood. The first “hallelujah” reverberated to the ceiling, followed by another, and another until the air vibrated with the sound. And if there were two extra voices, singing off-key but enthusiastically from the pastor’s office, no one seemed to mind. They were part of the joyful noise that welcomed a peaceful Christmas to Celebration Bay.

  Christmas Day

  The Zimmermans’ old kitchen was toasty warm. The windows were fogged up with steam, and aromas swirled around the room as Miss Edna opened the oven and stepped aside for Ted to pull out the roast and transfer it to the carving board. “Just a few more minutes for the roast to rest.” He was wearing a red apron over a red-and-green jacquard sweater Liv had bought him at the Yarn Barn, and a candy-cane tie from Ida and Edna.

  It was a perfect old-fashioned Christmas, Liv thought, not that she’d celebrated many Christmases lately. Most Christmases she was either working, winding up working, recovering from working, or organizing her next job.

  Not a good way to live. She was really committed to not making that mistake again. And though this hadn’t been the easiest holiday season, recent events made this day extra special.

  They had all met earlier to open presents, Miss Ida, Miss Edna, BeBe, Ted, and Bill, sitting around the tall Victorian tree in the parlor. They opened their presents amid Christmas music and laughter and those wonderful aromas wafting from the kitchen. While Whiskey, wearing a new red bow tie, gamboled among the wrapping paper, the humans sipped a special Christmas blend coffee—a present from BeBe—and enjoyed a platter of holiday breads delivered the morning before by Fred and Dolly, who were spending their Christmas with their son in New York City.

  The table had been set the night before with beautiful Spode Christmas china, crystal water-and wineglasses, and the “real” silver as BeBe called it. In the center of the Battenberg lace tablecloth was an elaborate silver candelabra filled with red tapered candles.

  There were seven place settings, but so far, only six diners. The seventh guest had yet to make an appearance.

  “He’s probably sleeping,” Liv said.

  The back door opened and closed, bringing a gust of freezing air. Bill came in from where he’d been hanging the abalone wind chime Liv had bought the sisters at the Pyne Bough. “All set and tinkling away,” he said.

  “Thank you, Bill,” Miss Ida said. “So beautiful . . . poor Nancy.”

  They all fell silent for a second remembering the woman who had been so kind and yet had killed not once but twice.

  “Will someone take over the store? What will happen to all her merchandise?” BeBe asked. She was wearing the “I’m the Barista Boss” apron Liv had ordered for her Christmas present.

  “That will make two stores empty in the new year,” said Miss Edna. “Not that we’ll miss that awful Trim a Tree. I hear Clarence Thornsby isn’t even waiting for the after-Christmas sales, but returning what merchandise he can to the wholesaler and selling the rest bulk to another store.”

  Miss Ida clicked her tongue. “It’s such a shame, the Newlands losing the store like that. We’ll need them even more now that Nancy’s gone.” She sighed. “She did a terrible thing, but I just can’t seem to make myself hate her.”

  “Well, Christmas is a time for forgiving,” Edna said.

  “There is good news,” Liv said. “I hope it’s not too early to divulge.” She looked at Ted.

  “Take it away.”

  “Miriam has decided to go into partnership and expand A Stitch in Time into the TAT space.”

  “Partnership?” Ida exclaimed.

  “With whom?” Edna added.

  “With Penny Newland and Jason. Hank is cosigning a loan for them, and they’re reopening Newland’s Gifts in conjunction with the crafts groups that Penny will be running for Miriam.”

  “And,” Ted volunteered, “it turns out that Clarence hadn’t had time to unload the stock from the old Newland store—it’s been in his garage—and is selling it back cheap.”

  “He s
hould give it back,” Edna said.

  “At this point, I think he needs the money as much as the Newlands.”

  “Well, I’m glad that something good came from all this nonsense,” Miss Ida said. “Bill Gunnison, I see you picking at that roast. I’m going to get my ruler if you don’t stop this instant.

  Bill pulled back his hand. “Just testing to make sure it’s ready.”

  Edna sighed. “Good for Hank. He never had children of his own, but I’m sure he’s going to take care of his old friend’s son and his wife. They’ve decided to get married right away . . . so Roger can see his youngest married. Bless him.” Edna’s eyes misted, and she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve. “Then they’ll live over his garage until they can afford a bigger place.”

  “Well,” Ida said, breaking into the silence that had followed as they all remembered the ailing man. “It will be good for Hank to have young people around the rest of the year and not just at Christmas.”

  Edna tucked her handkerchief back in her sleeve. “I’m sure he’ll spoil little Bobby rotten.”

  “And the ones that follow,” Ida said. She looked up at the wall clock. The doorbell rang, long round tones that rolled through the foyer and hall to the kitchen. Miss Ida wiped her hands on her apron and with a command to Edna to put the rolls in the oven, she went to answer the door.

  “Perfect timing,” Liv said to BeBe.

  They heard Ida’s, “Oh, they’re just beautiful,” echo from the hall. “Edna, come take Chaz’s coat.”

  “Good. Now, can I carve the roast?” Bill asked.

  Ida returned carrying a huge bouquet of long-stemmed red roses, followed by Chaz sans coat.

  “I wonder where he found roses on Christmas morning,” BeBe said under her breath.

  “Probably pestered Della Grimes to open the florist shop for him. He’s such a—” Liv did a double take. There wasn’t a speck of red or green anywhere on him, but he wore gray wool trousers with a navy blue sweater pulled over a light blue dress shirt and he looked almost preppy. Even his hair was spiked less than usual.

  BeBe rounded her eyes at Liv and went back to mashing potatoes.

  “Ted, you go out and keep Chaz company,” Miss Ida said. “Bill, start carving, and us girls will take care of it from here.”

  The men retreated and in a few minutes, and several trips from the kitchen to the dining room, everything was ready, and BeBe, Ida, Edna, and Liv were all gathered in the dining room.

  “Dinner’s served,” Ida said.

  Chaz jumped up from his chair, followed by the two older men.

  “First to the trough,” Liv told BeBe under her breath.

  “Chaz, you stop right there,” Miss Ida said.

  Chaz froze in the archway.

  “Look up.”

  They all looked up.

  Above his head, hanging from the top of the archway, was a bough of mistletoe. He looked down again right at Liv, who happened to be across from him.

  She took an involuntary step back.

  Looking his smarmiest, Chaz pointed upward, shrugged, and grabbed her by her shoulders and pulled her under the mistletoe. He let go but only long enough to capture her face in both hands. The last thing she saw before he planted a kiss on her mouth was his grin.

  It seemed to last a really long time, and by the time he pulled away, she was a little breathless.

  Chaz looked gob-smacked—for a nanosecond—before he recovered and became his normal cheeky self.

  He looked around. “Come here, Miss Ida. Let’s show them how it’s really done.”

  Ida giggled but presented her cheek. Chaz kissed her, making silly growling noises, until she playfully pushed him away.

  “Been dipping at the cooking sherry, if you ask me,” Edna said before Chaz pulled her into a big hug and kissed her, too.

  “Now, that’s enough young man. If you need more kisses, here’s BeBe.”

  “Hey, I’m saving the cutest for last.” He pulled BeBe toward him and planted a quick, loud smack on her mouth.

  “Anyone else? Ted, Bill?” Chaz asked.

  “Food’s getting cold,” Bill said and headed toward the table.

  Ted raised a hand. “Think I’ll pass. Miss Ida, something dinged.”

  “Oh, my rolls.” Miss Ida scurried past them into the kitchen.

  “Sit down, everyone,” Miss Edna said. “Bill, bring the decanter of wine from the sideboard.”

  When everyone was seated and the wine was poured, and after Bill blessed the food, Ted stood and raised his glass. “Here’s to absent friends and those that are here among us. And especially to Miss Ida and Miss Edna for their wonderful hospitality.”

  The roast was served. Potatoes, beans, relishes, and rolls were passed. They all had seconds, and Bill and Chaz had thirds, before they all indulged in dessert, a rich English trifle in a thick cut-glass bowl, and coffee while both sisters beamed with delight.

  Liv had to admit, it had been a pretty wonderful day. When the food was put away, and a container of bones was set aside for Whiskey, who’d been sent home after the present opening; after the china was hand washed and returned to the cabinet, and the silver had been carefully dried and laid in its wooden storage box, they all sat in the parlor, sated and quiet.

  And were startled when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Edna said and pushed herself off the sofa.

  There were mumbled voices and Edna returned bringing A.K. Pierce.

  “Why, A.K.,” Miss Ida said, “we were hoping you’d stop by.”

  A.K. nodded to the room. “I can’t stay long, but just wanted to drop this off before the day was over.” He held out his hand to Miss Ida. “For you and Miss Edna.” A square, wrapped package was dwarfed by his large hand.

  “How sweet. Edna, take his coat. A.K., you know everyone here, I think.”

  A.K. nodded at the room again. Ted and Bill mumbled hello. Chaz nodded back, barely.

  “What’s his problem?” BeBe whispered.

  “Beats me, he’s been weird all day,” Liv said.

  “And BeBe, and of course you know Liv.”

  A.K. saw Liv and his face softened a fraction.

  “Oh,” breathed BeBe. “I get it. Want me to push you under the mistletoe?”

  “Absolutely not,” Liv said. “I’ve had enough of that for today. Besides, I have too much work to do. I don’t have time for . . .”

  “Dalliance?” BeBe laughed. “Surely you can juggle a couple of boyfriends along with all the other things you have to take care of.”

  “Don’t get any ideas. Right now I’m stuffed and happy and I’m ready to sleep for a week. Valentine’s Day is only a month and a half away . . . and then Saint Patrick’s Day . . . and Easter . . . Heck, before we know it, it will be the Fourth of July.”