“I guess he accomplished his goal,” I said. “Sidney will never marry Walter now. Instead she’ll see her father spend the rest of his life in prison, and know it was he who killed the love of her life. What a sad story. She’ll really be devastated now. She’s lost both her boyfriend and her father. I assume she knew nothing about her dad killing Walter, did she?” I asked.
“Oh, no, and neither did his wife. She was as flabbergasted as Sidney was when the detectives went over to inform them of Jeffrey’s arrest,” Wyatt replied. “What a shame. It’s so awful for the two of them.”
“Yeah, it really is a shame,” Stone said. “And Walter seemed like such a nice and thoughtful young man. I would have been proud to call him my son-in-law.”
“He was a young man who wanted to spend his life helping others,” I added. “I don’t think he cared at all about having a lot of material things, and I seriously doubt Sidney did either, or she wouldn’t have fallen in love with a man of his convictions.”
“Speaking of helping others and getting married, Lexie, have you considered my suggestion from the other day?” Stone asked.
I didn’t know if he was proposing marriage, or just asking me to move in with him full-time at the inn, but either way, I told him I would be thrilled to make the Alexandria Inn my new home. I could no longer imagine my life without Stone in it. I would put my house in Shawnee on the market in the near future and begin selling and/or transferring all my belongings. I knew Wendy would also be relieved to see me become a permanent resident at the Alexandria Inn.
“Oh, well, it’s about time. I’m thrilled for the two of you,” Wyatt said. “And, Lexie, I probably don’t even have to tell you this, but a newspaper reporter was interviewing the chief when I left the police station yesterday, and your name will be all over the front page of the Rockdale Gazette, and probably multiple other newspapers tomorrow morning. Kind of like it was last year after you helped solve the murder case involving Veronica’s father.”
“I was afraid of that,” I said.
“Me too,” Stone agreed. “But something tells me it is something I better get used to.”
The End
Want more from Jeanne Glidewell?
Page forward for Recipes from HAUNTED
followed by an excerpt from
WITH THIS RING
A Lexie Starr Mystery
Book Four
Recipes
Frightening Fingers and Blood
2 cups brain matter (or substitute with shredded white cheddar cheese at room temperature)
1/2 cup butter (room temperature)
1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
1 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper (can use more if you want spicier)
1 jar of purchased salsa or roasted red pepper dip
Preheat the oven to 325 degrees F.
Pulse in your food processor butter, cheese, flour, salt, and cayenne until it comes together and forms a soft dough. Remove the dough from the food processor and put in the refrigerator for about 30 minutes. Once removed from the refrigerator, scoop out mixture with a medium cookie scoop or a couple of tablespoons. Take each scoop and hand roll into the shape of a finger and make sure to use a fork to lightly score the knuckles. Bake for approximately 10 to 12 minutes or until lightly brown. If any of the fingers break they are still yummy finger pieces so don’t waste them. Cool and enjoy. Tray these fingers with a big bowl of salsa or roasted red pepper dip (blood) in the center of the tray for dipping.
Red-Deviled Eye of Newt
1 dozen eyes of newt (or substitute with hard-boiled, shelled eggs)
1/2 cup mayonnaise
1 tablespoon relish
1/4 teaspoon salt
2 tablespoons sweet pickle juice
Small jar green olives with pimentos
1 tablespoon red food coloring
1 cup white vinegar
1/2 cup warm water
Slice eggs in half so that that each egg piece is round and not oval. Scoop out the yellow to mix in a separate bowl and flake the yoke with a fork and add in the mayo, relish, salt, and pickle juice. Stir and refrigerate mixture until the eggs are ready to fill.
To dye the egg whites, first cut a small piece of the rounded bottom of each egg to make a flat part so the egg will sit flat and not roll. Next mix 1 cup vinegar, 1 tablespoon red food coloring, and 1/2 cup warm water, and pour in a shallow pie plate. Place egg halves down into the mixture with the flat base side of the eggs not getting in the dye if you can help it. Let this sit for about 10 minutes and then using gloves, take the red egg eyes out of the mixture and dry right side up resting the flat base side on paper towels until ready to fill.
Using a pastry bag, fill each red egg side with the chilled eye mixture and top each egg with a green olive with pimento pushed slightly inside the filling for stability.
Chill until ready to serve.
Chocolate Tarantula Spiders
1 (6-ounce) package dark chocolate chips or semisweet chocolate chips
1/4 cup Red Hots (or other small red candies for the eyes)
2 cups hair of the dog (or substitute with crispy chow mein noodles)
Place the chocolate chips in a glass bowl and melt in the microwave on high for approximately 1 minute. Stir and melt more if the chocolate isn’t smooth. Then add in the chow mein noodles until they are all coated, being careful not to crush the noodles.
Drop heaping tablespoons of the mixture onto rolled-out waxed paper into small mounds. Leave a few noodles in the bowl for the legs. Next add these noodles with your fingers to create spider legs off the sides of each mound. Press in the Red Hot candies or other red candies to create eyes.
Refrigerate for 20 to 30 minutes and enjoy.
Bleeding Heart Fudge
1 cup sugar
2/3 cup (5-ounce can) evaporated milk
2 tablespoons butter
1/2 teaspoon salt
2 cups miniature marshmallows
1 package cinnamon baking chips (10 ounces)
1 bag cinnamon imperial candy (9 ounces)
1/2 teaspoon warlock blood or cinnamon oil
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
Line an 8-inch square baking pan with waxed paper. Combine sugar, evaporated milk, all but 1/4 cup of cinnamon imperials, butter, and salt in medium, heavy-duty saucepan. Bring to a full rolling boil over medium heat, stirring constantly until cinnamon imperials are melted and mixture is smooth.
Stir in cinnamon chips, vanilla, cinnamon oil, and marshmallows and mix thoroughly. Pour into prepared baking pan and sprinkle with remaining 1/4 cup of cinnamon imperials. Refrigerate for 2 hours or until firm. Lift from pan and remove wax paper. Cut into pieces.
Page forward and continue your journey
with an excerpt from
WITH THIS RING
A Lexie Starr Mystery
Book Four
Excerpt from
With This Ring
A Lexie Starr Mystery
Book Four
by
Jeanne Glidewell
I woke up in the midst of a nightmare about three o’clock in the morning. In the dream, I’d been standing in front of Tom Nelson, who held an open Bible in his hands, and I was surrounded by all my family and friends. I was wearing my lovely pink silk dress, and my hair, recently permed and highlighted, looked as good as it was ever going to look. My nails, all manicured and painted, also looked terrific. The cakes, punch bowl, and flower arrangements were all positioned perfectly. The guests were all smiling in anticipation. Even the pair of doves that had been delivered an hour earlier, as planned, were cooing quietly in their cage and waiting patiently for their chance to fly free after the vows had been exchanged. Everything was in perfect order for a picture-perfect wedding.
The only thing missing was the groom. Stone was nowhere to be found. Neither Randy nor Wendy knew where he was, and he hadn’t mentioned being late to Detective Wyatt Johnston or to his nephew, Andy, either.
The grandfather clock just inside the back door struck half past the hour of three, and there was still no sign of Stone. He had skipped out and left me standing at the proverbial altar. I’d been afraid he’d take a long, hard look at all my inherent faults and weaknesses and come to his senses before the big day, but I hadn’t expected him to change his mind at the very last moment. I hadn’t expected him to humiliate me this way.
I looked around at the crowd who were now all laughing at me as they began to realize what was happening. Even Paula Bankston’s dogs, Tiny and Moose, were perched on chairs in the back row, snickering as only a tiny Chihuahua and a massive mastiff can do. This should have clued me in that it was only a dream, but it didn’t. Nor did the dancing clown with the creepy makeup, or the fact that Sheila had morphed into my late, great-grandmother and was serving hot dogs and peanuts to the crowd. I hadn’t remembered inviting Joe Namath to the wedding either, but there he sat in the third row.
It was only when Frieda, the vocalist from church, began singing “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” that I woke up, bathed in sweat. I was relieved to discover I’d only been having a nightmare, and that my fiancé was lying in bed next to me. I tried to go back to sleep, but only managed to doze off a few times, while spending the rest of the night tossing and turning. It was a wonder I didn’t wake Stone up with all the thrashing I was doing trying to find a position that would put me back to sleep.
With my mind racing in numerous directions, I knew the chances of me falling back to sleep were remote. I was worrying about every little aspect of the wedding to be held tomorrow, afraid some critical detail had slipped my mind. I was wondering also if driving by the Webster’s house in the morning was a good idea. It had been very important to me to see Pastor Steiner’s killer apprehended before another minister stepped in to officiate our wedding, but all my efforts so far had been fruitless, causing me nothing but grief, embarrassment, fear, and humiliation, not to mention a broken wrist. Wasn’t it better to leave well enough alone, whether the killer was ever brought to justice, or not? I flipped over in bed for at least the hundredth time while I mulled it over.
At six o’clock I gave up and went downstairs to brew a pot of coffee and have a few moments to myself out on the back porch before the inn became a beehive of activity. There I reflected on how my life was about to change. I would never make a major decision on my own again without talking it over with Stone. It would never be just “me” again, for I would soon form a partnership and be half of “we.” I knew I could never give up my independent nature, and I knew Stone would never ask me to, or even want me to. But I also realized I wasn’t the type to be selfish, and would always take his best interests into consideration before I acted on any impulse.
The impulsiveness would never fade entirely from my personality, but it might be tempered some. For both of our sakes, I hoped so.
With This Ring
by
Jeanne Glidewell
~
To purchase
With This Ring
from your favorite eBook Retailer,
visit Jeanne Glidewell’s eBook Discovery Author Page
www.ebookdiscovery.com/JeanneGlidewell
~
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Page forward and complete your journey
with an excerpt from
THE SPIRIT OF THE SEASON
A Lexie Starr Mystery
Novella
Excerpt from
The Spirit of the Season
A Lexie Starr Mystery
Novella
by
Jeanne Glidewell
My Lexie Starr holiday novella is dedicated to all the members and past members of the military, and their families. As a token of my personal appreciation, I am donating all the proceeds from the sale of this novella to the Leavenworth, Kansas, Chapter of the Toys for Tots program. I hope you will consider donating an unwrapped toy, or two, to your local Toys for Tots Chapter, which benefits many underprivileged families and helps them to all have a merrier holiday season.
~
When I walked into the smoke-filled auction barn the following evening, I looked around the room for a portly gentleman with less than a handful of hairs strategically combed across his head in a pitiful attempt to look like he wasn’t only fourteen plucks short of being completely bald.
I spotted him almost immediately. He was surrounded by a swarm of men who were vying for his attention, and I could hear his bellowing laugh clear across the room when someone tickled his funny bone. I watched him reach up and pat down his few remaining hairs, apparently to prevent his secret of being nearly bald from getting let out of the bag.
I wasn’t planning on bidding on anything, but I wanted to look like I had a reason to be there, so I signed up at the counter and was given a wooden placard with the number sixty painted on it.
I then headed to the concession stand to purchase a large cup of coffee. After one sip of the strong brew, I decided the city hall’s vending machine couldn’t possibly produce coffee that tasted any worse than the cup I’d just paid three bucks for. But that, of course, didn’t prevent me from planning to drain the cup and possibly return for a refill.
If at all possible, I wanted to land a seat right next to the mayor. I walked over and with my back to the throng of people enveloping him, I pretended to be engrossed in a text message on my phone. I was on high alert, waiting for him to make a step toward the metal bleachers, which were like those you’d find in a junior high school gymnasium.
When at last he headed in that direction, I dashed toward him, nearly knocking three people over in the process. In my haste, I spilt about a quarter cup of the crappy coffee on the back of an elderly man’s overalls, but he seemed oblivious to it, so I didn’t stop to apologize. However, I did rue the loss of about seventy-five cents worth of the awful tasting, but caffeine-infused, beverage. Maybe Wyatt was right. I had no boundaries when it came to drinking coffee.
When I realized that I wasn’t going to beat a tall, slim gentleman coming from the opposite direction, to the only empty seat next to Bradley Dunn, I pointed to the floor directly behind the lanky fellow, and hollered, “Look out!”
When the man stopped abruptly, and turned around in alarm, I practically flung myself into the seat he’d been about to sit down on. The bewildered gentleman looked back toward me with a questioning expression, and I said, “Oh, I’m sorry. I thought I saw a big wad of gum on the floor and I didn’t want you to accidentally step on it and get it all over your shoes. It must have just been one of those floaters I’ve been prone to ever since my botched retinal surgery.”
The man just shrugged, and looked at me like he’d just come in contact with an escapee from an insane asylum. He turned around and found himself a seat three rows back on the opposite side of the bleachers. I felt a little embarrassed, but I got over it quickly when I reminded myself I’d been successful in getting a seat right next to the mayor. In my somewhat crazed state of mind, it was akin to getting an audience with the Pope.
I didn’t want to seem too obvious or anxious to speak to Mr. Dunn, so I sat quietly while the auctioneer began speaking in that rapid-fire manner that always amazed me. When a heard a mosquito flying by my ear, I swatted at it and unintentionally bid fifteen bucks on an old accordion that looked like it had been shipped to America on the Mayflower. Luckily, another woman who looked nearly as old as the accordion outbid me.
After several more items had been auctioned off, there was a pause in the action as the auctioneer’s assistant went to retrieve the next item on his list.
I took this opportunity to turn to the mayor, and ask, “Aren’t you Mr. Dunn, the mayor of Rockdale?”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied, without even turning to acknowledge me with even a quick glance in my direction. A flitting gnat would have received more attention than I did.
“Did you happen to hear about the theft of some very expensive
toys from the storeroom at City Hall, which had been donated to benefit underprivileged children?”
“Yeah, I heard something about that,” he replied, with a total lack of interest.
“I’m the person who conceived the idea for the appeal to the public for toys and other helpful items for a struggling family in our community. Do you have any idea who could have done such an awful thing as to steal some of these donated items? I know you were in the building that evening, and I wondered if you happened to see anything unusual, or see anyone suspicious enter or leave the building, possibly with a large box of toys,” I spoke earnestly.
“No, sorry. I’ve been too busy with a lot more important things to dwell on the loss of some silly toys. An issue like that, of such low caliber, would have been the last thing on my mind Sunday night. I really can’t be bothered with such trivial matters when I have an entire town to look after.”
He turned away from me, as if to signal my allotted thirty seconds of his precious time were up. His nonchalant dismissal of the theft and me infuriated me. Who did he think he was? Maybe he thought he really was as important as the Pope, and his time was beyond valuable.
This was Rockdale, where the streets were rolled up at seven, and the three stoplights in town began blinking red at that same time. How could this pompous ass show such little regard for the welfare of local citizens, and the happiness of helpless children? I knew Stone wanted to stay on the good side of all the people involved with the city government, but I couldn’t suppress my anger with Mayor Bradley Dunn’s callous attitude, and his condescending treatment of a family in his jurisdiction.
Jeanne Glidewell - Lexie Starr 03 - Haunted Page 22
