Miz Scarlet and the Holiday Houseguests (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery #3)

by Sara M. Barton

  Chapter Nine --

  “So you can charge me for the room and the meals, Scarlet.”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re here to keep Larry and Mickey safe.”

  “I can’t accept your hospitality without reciprocating in some fashion.”

  “I’ve closed the inn for the week, Max. This is all about family.”

  “In that case, how about some wine to go with dinner?”

  “Wine would be nice, Max. I’d like that.”

  “Great. I’ll pick up a couple bottles, and maybe some after-dinner liqueurs. What do the Googins girls like?” he wanted to know.

  “Amaretto, Bailey’s Irish Cream....” I gave him a grin. “And Lacey knocks back the occasional eggnog or peppermint schnapps.”

  “I’ll find something appropriate. What can I get for you?”

  “Oh, Max!”

  “I insist. I slept like a log last night. And that breakfast? The best....” Apparently, the bachelor was enjoying the inn experience. “I could really get to like this, Scarlet.”

  “I’m glad. Drive safely. We’re supposed to get four inches of snow today.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m not looking forward to I-91 on the trip back. It’s likely to be bumper-to-bumper if the snow starts to pile up. See you later, alligator.”

  “In a while, crocodile,” I replied automatically, remembering the hokey old phrase from my youth. It was so like Max to say something like that. He was just your ordinary good guy, I thought, with a big dose of decency coursing through his veins. As I shut the door on the cold wind blowing in from the north, I thought about Larry and Max. He would be good for her. He was probably the only guy around who could make her feel safe.

  Half an hour later, Mickey and I took the dogs for a walk in the neighborhood. The snow was already falling; the heavy flakes accumulated quickly, leaving the sidewalks slushy. The teenager took Mozzie’s leash tentatively, nervously. Dogs were still foreign to her, but I could tell she had an affinity for the canine members of the inn.

  “Why is he walking funny?” she asked me, as the King Charles Cavalier spaniel reluctantly trotted along, shaking a limb every few steps.

  “The ice from the sidewalk is getting stuck in the pads of his feet. That’s our cue to turn around and go back home.”

  “Poor thing. Should I pick him up?”

  “No. He needs to relieve himself. Heaven knows how bad things will get before the snow ends. We’ll just have to warm him up when we get back.”

  “How come January isn’t walking funny?”

  “Her coat is very short, so the ice doesn’t cling to her fur the same way. Huck, on the other hand, is less than thrilled,” I pointed out. It was true. The Yorkshire terrier was tearing up the sidewalk, desperate to get back to the house.

  Bur was waiting for us when we stepped into the foyer. “It’s about time!”

  “It’s about time for what?” I asked.

  “We’ve got to go pick up Leaping Larry the Lawnmower. He missed his connecting flight and now he’s stuck in Newark.”

  “What’s going on?” My mother joined us in the hallway, attracted by the commotion. Bur quickly explained.

  “Can’t he just take the train?” I asked, as I pulled off my jacket. “By the time you get down there and then drive back....”

  “No, he can’t. It’s Friday, so the traffic is crazy enough. Add to that the fact that this is the last weekend before Christmas. Some people are taking next week off as vacation time. All the planes and trains are fully booked. And now, on top of that, everyone else is trying to get out ahead of the storm that’s coming tomorrow.”

  “I thought we were only supposed to get a few inches of snow, Bur.”

  “We were...today. But the snow is changing to ice and there’s another front moving in tomorrow. The forecasters are saying it’s going to snow through Sunday. When it turns to ice, it’s going to be chaos. That’s why we’ve got to go now.” He was clearly impatient to hit the road.

  “Seriously?” Michaela seemed worried. “How’s Grandpa supposed to take me to Boston tomorrow? He promised.”

  “We’ll have to figure that out later, half-pint. Right now, grab your stuff and let’s get moving. We don’t want to get stuck in New Jersey for Christmas.”

  “Bur, you’ll be careful on the roads....” Laurel was apprehensive enough to tug on my brother’s sleeve.

  “Not to worry, Mom. I’ve got this.” My brother leaned over and kissed her cheek, and then he squeezed her shoulder, hoping to reassure her. She didn’t look all that convinced. “We’ll be fine.”

  “And you’ll take good care of my car? You’ll return it in one piece?” I demanded, reluctant to hand over my keys. Was this trip really a good idea? I understood Big Larry’s urge to get while the getting was good. I just didn’t understand why Bur and Michaela had to drive all that way in the early hours of what could turn out to be a dangerous ice storm. How were the three of them supposed to make it back to Connecticut if the roads were too slick to drive on? “If he could wait until tomorrow, maybe Kenny could pick him up on his way here.”

  “There’s no guarantee Kenny’s going anywhere tomorrow, Scarlet, especially if the roads ice up. I’ve got to go. We’ll call you when we get to the airport.”

  “Please do,” said Laurel.

  My mother was concerned as she watched the car disappear down the road. I knew she wouldn’t be able to relax until she heard from them again. It was going to be a long afternoon.

  “Want a cup of tea?” I asked. “I’m having one.”

  “Please.”

  I headed off to the kitchen, returning a short time later with two steaming mugs. My mother sat in her favorite chair, working on a crossword puzzle. January was squeezed into the chair beside her, snoozing. Settling on the sofa, I flicked on the television and started channel surfing. I stayed away from the local stations, knowing that my mother would fret if she watched the live weather reports. The Food Network was doing a holiday special. I put my stocking feet up on the ottoman and sipped my tea as I watched six different variations of Christmas cookies made from a single recipe. Huck hopped up and curled into a ball at my side. Mozzie, the forlorn pooch who missed his mistress, parked himself in front of me, waiting for an invitation to join the party.

  “Come on, boy. No reason for you to feel left out.” I patted the sofa. “The more the merrier.”

  Mozzie cautiously climbed up onto the upholstered seat and sat on his haunches, gazing at his surroundings and waiting for divine inspiration to tell him what the most comfortable spot on the sofa would be. At last, after much thought, he decided that my lap made the perfect pillow, so he scrunched up next to me and flopped, displacing Huck. I picked up the smaller dog and placed him on the other side of me. Good thing the Yorkshire terrier was easygoing.

  “Is that a car in the driveway?” Laurel asked a few moments later. “Did they change their minds and come back?”

  “I’ll check.” I got to my feet, disturbing my canine companions in the process, and crossed the room. Peering out the window, I could see the other half of the Googins girls duo walking toward the inn, bundled up against the chilly wind. “It’s Lacey. Her exercise class must have been canceled.”

  “I wish Bur and Mickey hadn’t gone. I should have stood my ground,” Laurel said, clearly in the mood to kick herself in the proverbial backside. “It was a bad idea to allow them to go.”

  “Bur is a very safe driver,” I reminded her. “He wouldn’t take any unnecessary chances, especially with Mickey in the car. I’m sure they’ll be fine.”

  “I hope you’re right.” Judging from her tone, it sounded like she thought it was wishful thinking on my part.

  A noise in the hallway signaled the new arrival. Three sets of ears shot up as the dogs heard Lacey’s key slide into the lock. January ran out of the room in her capacity as lead watchdog, determined to investigate the suspicious sound. Huck and Mozzie were less inclined to bother; both decid
ed to let their buddy handle the call. A moment later, the friendly bark in the foyer informed us that our new arrival was friend, not foe.

  “I’m home!” Lacey entered the inn, stomping her wet boots a foot at a time, singing in an overly loud falsetto. “Where is everyone?”

  “We’re in the living room,” my mother and I answered in unison. The sound of tingling jingle bells resounded as the elderly woman made her way down the corridor and appeared in the doorway. Her gray hair was matted down with tiny flecks of ice and a few snowflakes here and there. She shook her head, and then ran her fingers through her hair, fluffing it up again.

  “Well, God bless you for having the good sense to stay indoors! Brr!” Lacey hugged herself. “It’s nasty out there. Where’s little Mickey? Off gabbing on her phone? Or texting?”

  “Bur took her with him down to New Jersey,” Laurel announced.

  “New Jersey?” She seemed surprised by the news. “What’s in New Jersey?”

  I gave Lacey the short version of Big Larry’s airport saga. By now, my mother was back to openly fretting. She was certain the car would go off the road, or someone would crash into them.

  “My son’s trying to impress Larry! He’ll do anything to get in her good graces!”

  “Getting her daughter and her father killed in a car crash won’t do much on that front.” said one Googins girl to the other. “That would be foolish. Besides, Bur’s not a complete idiot, Laurel. He knows Larry will do a lot more than just take a chunk out of him if anything happens to her nearest and dearest. She’ll kill him!”

  “Too true,” I laughed. “I’ll bet Larry knows a hundred different ways to do it.”

  Those were the words my mother needed to hear. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “You’re probably right. I’m worrying over nothing.”

  Tra-ling...tra-ling...tra-ling. The sudden peel alerted me to a call on the inn’s landline. I picked up the cordless phone from its cradle, pushed the button, and greeted the caller.

  “Four Acorns Inn,” I announced.

  “Is this Scarlet Wilson?” The female voice on the other end demanded to know. “Are you the innkeeper?”

  “It is and I am,” I replied. “How can I help you?”

  “I have been trying to get a hold of my daughter all afternoon, but her phone is turned off. I want to tell her that I took an earlier plane from Atlanta.”

  “You must be Mrs. Rivera. Do you need a ride from the airport? I’ll be happy to come get you. What gate are you at?”

  “I’m not in Hartford.”

  “Oh?”

  “I could only get a plane to JFK in New York. I planned to take the limo or the train to Connecticut, but I have been informed that it’s not an option for me.”

  “You’re in New York?”

  “Didn’t you hear me the first time?” Edna Rivera wanted to know.

  “Well, I did. I’m just surprised that you didn’t call sooner. We’re having bad weather here and....”

  “...it’s supposed to get worse. Yes, I know all that. That’s why I took an earlier flight. And now I need a ride, but I can’t get a hold of my daughter, to let her know she has to pick me up at the airport. Don’t you have a worker you can send down here? I’m sure my daughter will pay him.”

  Oh, she’ll pay him alright. I’m just not sure you’re going to like your traveling companions. I could just imagine the moment when the Four Acorns Ford Focus pulled up to the curb at JFK Airport and Edna came face-to-face with her ex-husband. Priceless.

  “Ma’am, where are you and what’s your phone number?” I reached into the drawer of the end table for a note pad and a pen, and took down the information. “I’ll get back to you.”

  My first call was to Larry’s cell phone. No answer. I sent her a text. My next call was to Bur.

  “Where are you?” I asked my brother.

  “Hackensack. Don’t worry, Scar. The road trip is going fine.”

  “Well, it’s about to get worse, trust me. Guess who just flew into JFK from Atlanta and needs a ride to the Four Acorns Inn.”

  “The Queen of Clean landed in Queens? Typical,” said an unfamiliar male voice in the background. Ah, the joys of speaker phone function.

  “You’ve got to be joking! There’s no way I can pick Edna up now!” I could hear the frustration in my brother’s voice. “I’d have to turn around and....This is Friday. How am I supposed to get through Manhattan at the top of rush hour and still get home before midnight? Is the woman mad?”

  “I’ve been saying that for years,” Big Larry announced, adding his two cents to the conversation. “Stubborn and determined to do things her way, no matter who gets inconvenienced....”

  I could hear Bur trying to shush the baseball coach without much luck. I broke in.

  “She tried to get a shuttle, but had no success, Colonel. The limos and trains are full. If you don’t pick her up, she’s stranded.”

  “Ducky! Now I’ve got to decide if I’m taking the Lincoln Tunnel or....”

  “I’ll leave you to that,” I told him, “I’ve got to call Edna back and give her the good news. I’ll give her your number.”

  “Well, do that, but I’m pretty sure I already have her number, if you get my drift.” My brother sighed heavily, even as Mickey and Big Larry continued chattering away in the background. “It’s going to be an interesting reunion.”

  “You can say that again, Colonel. I’d give my right arm to see Edna’s face when you three show up.” Bur chuckled, Mickey giggled, Big Larry gave an amused howl from the passenger seat.

  “She’s going to blow a gasket,” said the ex-husband, with enthusiasm that bespoke of the baseball slob’s delight in riling up the Queen of Clean.

  “I’ll be sure to have my camera ready,” Bur promised, just before he hung up.

  I immediately called Edna back. She answered on the second ring. I could hear the relief in her voice when I told her that Bur was on his way.

  “It’s wall-to-wall people here. I’ve been bumped and jostled left and right. It’s dreadful, absolutely dreadful. I’m so afraid someone is going to walk off with my suitcase.”

  “It will take him some time to get there,” I cautioned her. “Be patient.”

  “Is he a conscientious driver? I don’t like to get into the car with just anyone. You never know these days....”

  “Not to worry, Mrs. Rivera. If you get into his car, I can assure you my brother will get you here in one piece.” If you get into his car....What will she do when she sees Big Larry, run for the hills...get on the next flight back to Atlanta...clobber somebody?