Hemlock for the Holidays

by Paula Darnell

  “I bet you went to Brooks Miller's gallery with him when he decided to find out if his wife's old painting was worth anything,” I said. “That's how you found out about it.”

  I was desperately trying to stall Josh, but I could tell what little patience he had was wearing thin.

  He took a step toward me.

  I backed up. “Wait!” I cried. “Where did you get the hemlock?”

  “What difference does it make?”

  “Just curious.”

  “Curiosity killed the cat. If you weren't so nosy, you wouldn't be in trouble right now. If you must know, I harvested it next to the creek up at the Equine Center. That old busybody next door to Uncle Eric's took our science class there on a field trip. She showed us exactly what it looks like. Only time in her life she was ever actually helpful.”

  He took another few steps toward me, and I backed up until there was no place to go. He grabbed me, picked up a brownie, and tried to force it into my mouth, but I refused to part my lips.

  Just as I drew my arm across my face to wipe the brownie off that he'd smeared on it, Emma appeared behind Laddie.

  “Mom! What's going on?”

  “Run!” I screamed.

  “Stay right where you are!” Josh commanded her.

  Emma hesitated.

  He pushed me in front of him and put his left arm around my neck, before withdrawing something from his pocket.

  I felt the pinch of a blade on my neck. A knife!

  Then, I realized he held a box cutter. Although the instrument was small, it could be as deadly as a knife.

  Holding it to my throat, he nudged me toward the baby gate.

  Laddie yelped, and Emma patted her leg, urging him to come to her.

  Without loosening his grip on me, Josh kicked the baby gate, and it fell, clattering to the floor.

  Laddie growled. I'd never heard him do that before; the friendliest of dogs, my golden boy had a sweet disposition, but he'd picked up on Josh's bad vibes. Abruptly, his growling ended with a sharp bark.

  “Keep that dog away from me,” Josh told Emma. “Sit down!”

  She backed up, sank to the sofa, and coaxed Laddie to stay by her side. “You're going to kill us, aren't you?” Emma sobbed, putting her arm around Laddie, who began to whine.

  “Of course not,” Josh declared. “I just want to talk some sense into your mother.”

  “I don't believe you,” she said.

  “Suit yourself,” he told Emma. Whispering to me, “wrong place at the wrong time,” he pricked my neck again.

  My blood boiled. He regarded my daughter as nothing more than collateral damage, the same way he'd thought of the innocent people he'd poisoned at the high school and the same way he thought of me, too, for that matter.

  For once in my life, I wished I were wearing the highest, spikiest heels available so that I could stomp on his instep. The flats I was wearing had hard soles, but they wouldn't have the same effect. Still, I had to try.

  Holding my foot at an angle to catch his instep with the edge of the heel, I brought it down as hard as I could.

  “Ow!” Distracted for the moment, Josh loosened his grip, hopping on one foot.

  Mona Lisa, who'd hadn't come down from her perch all evening, launched herself at Josh, landing on his head, and raked her sharp front claws across his face. He yowled like a banshee, as he put both hands up to get to her, but she was too quick, and she jumped down, out of his way. Rushing forward, Laddie chomped on Josh's right wrist, and the killer dropped the box cutter.

  It skittered across the floor, toward Emma; she kicked it under the sofa.

  Josh howled in pain, swinging his arm toward Laddie, who was behind him now, nipping at his legs.

  He reached out to grab me again, but missed. I came back, butting my head into his stomach; losing his balance, he fell.

  Emma grabbed a book from the coffee table and hit him with it, but it wasn't a heavy volume, and the blows didn't seem to phase him.

  Desperately, I looked around for something I could use as a weapon. Emma's laptop! Snatching it, I brought it down on Josh's head, but he rolled to the side at the last second, and the blow glanced off him.

  In the midst of our struggle, I heard the studio door open.

  “Amanda, you forgot to bring your sign in,” Dennis called.

  “Help!” I yelled.

  He joined us in a flash, and, with all of us struggling and Laddie continuing to nip Josh's legs, we finally subdued him.

  As Emma, Dennis, and I sat on top of him, Dennis asked, “Do you still have the roll of electrical tape I gave you?”

  “In the kitchen. I'll get it.”

  As soon as I got up, Josh started scuffling again, while Dennis, Emma, and Laddie fought to control him.

  I returned in a few seconds, pulling at the end of the tape, as Dennis yanked Josh's hands together behind his back and began winding the tape around his wrists. After he secured Josh's wrists, he bound his ankles together and then stood up, panting.

  Josh wasn't going anywhere now.

  For the final blow, Mona Lisa crept out, from under my arm chair, pounced on Josh's head again, and scratched his neck.

  “Get that cat off me!” Josh yelled, but she'd already departed, this time to her perch atop her kitty tree.

  Emma and I hugged each other for dear life, while Dennis announced, “I'm calling the cops,” as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket.

  “Who is this guy, Mom?” Emma asked, as we waited for the police to arrive. “Why did he attack you?”

  “It's a long story, sweetheart. I'll tell you all about it as soon as—”

  “Yeah, tell me all about it,” Lieutenant Belmont said.

  I hadn't even heard him come in. The two patrol officers behind him hauled Josh up, off the floor.

  “Looks like he fought it out with a wild cat.”

  “Meow!” Mona Lisa stood up on her perch, stretched, and turned her back on us.

  For the first time, Lieutenant Belmont noticed Mona Lisa, and he actually smiled. “Your wild cat, I presume.”

  Chapter 42

  Thankfully, events took a turn for the better after our harrowing evening. When the patrol officers left with Josh in handcuffs and the brownies he'd brought in an evidence bag, I told Lieutenant Belmont the gist of the story while Laddie hung out at his side. The last time Laddie had seen the lieutenant, paramedics had been wheeling him out of my house on a gurney after he'd suffered a heart attack.

  “We have enough to go on for now,” he told us. “You can all come down to the station and give your formal statements tomorrow, and don't worry. With all the charges he's facing, young Mr. Thompson won't be bailing out of jail.”

  “I'm going out of town tomorrow, Bill,” Dennis said. As soon as he called the lieutenant “Bill,” I remembered that the two knew each other. They had been at odds in the past, and Dennis didn't think much of him.

  “Christmas vacation?”

  “Going to visit the kids and the grandkids in Michigan.”

  “We can take your statement when you get back. You might want to jot down a few notes, so you can remember exactly what happened.”

  “I'm not likely to forget.” For a second, I thought that their dislike for each other might surface, but Dennis continued, “I'll be sure to do that, though.”

  After Lieutenant Belmont left and we told an incredulous Belle, who'd come over as soon as she'd heard the police sirens, about my unexpected visitor, I urged my friends to go home and get some sleep since they needed to get up early to catch their flight.

  Shortly after Belle and Dennis went home, Emma, Mona Lisa, Laddie, and I piled onto the sofa for a group snuggle. Emma and I stayed up half the night, talking, with a break for cocoa and cookies. We had to reward our attack pets, too, so I gave Laddie a sugar cookie and Mona Lisa one of the tuna treats she loved so much.

  We slept only a few hours before Belle and Dennis dropped off Mr. Big early the next morning. We were
tired but much more relaxed and grateful that life was getting back to normal.

  It certainly felt that way on Christmas Day, as my family enjoyed our Christmas dinner. We moved the card table I'd borrowed from Belle and Dennis up against my tiny table so that we could all sit down together. Although the house seemed even smaller with five adults, two dogs, and one kitty, all in the same space, it also felt cozy and comfortable.

  Since my family had arrived, we'd gone to a holiday concert given by the Pioneers at a local theater, followed by a tour of Lonesome Valley to see all the lights. On Christmas Eve, we'd visited a living nativity scene featuring a cooperative camel and attended church services later that evening. Focusing on the familiar traditions shared with my children and parents felt good, especially after the miserable Christmas we'd had the year before.

  Not only my spirits, but my checkbook also got a bounce while Dustin and my parents were visiting. The day after Christmas, I found I had even more reason to celebrate when Ian Adams called me with good news: He'd sold the painting that Melinda had bought but ultimately rejected. Needless to say, I was absolutely thrilled to learn of my first sale at a Scottsdale gallery. Since Emma's laptop hadn't survived my attempt to bash Josh over the head, the painting's sale gave me the perfect opportunity to replace it without going into debt, too.

  A few days later, after my parents returned to Florida and Dustin to Kansas City, I headed to the Roadrunner to work the final half-day stint of my schedule for December. Emma had the afternoon off from her job at the feed store, and she was keeping an eye on Mr. Big and Laddie. During the entire time my family had been visiting, we hadn't dared leave them at home without supervision, so a friendly neighborhood dog sitter had watched them a few times. There had been an unfortunate incident with a shredded pillow at Belle's once, and I'd learned my lesson. Fortunately, the dogs hadn't tired of each other's company, but I knew Mr. Big missed Belle and Dennis. They were due home from their trip in the evening, so the little guy wouldn't have long to wait.

  I arrived at the gallery the same time Susan did, and Chip was getting ready to head out. Although I'd spoken to Susan and told her all the details of Josh's attack on Emma and me, I hadn't talked to Chip since Josh had come calling at my studio.

  “Amanda!” He rushed to give me a big hug. Stepping back, he said, “I'm so sorry! Josh and I have been friends since grade school. It's still hard for me to believe he poisoned his uncle.”

  “I'm afraid he's a sociopath, Chip, but he hid it well—most of the time, anyway.”

  “Kayla and I have been talking, and we came to the same conclusion. There were a few signs along the way; I see that now, but it wasn't obvious at the time.”

  “How's Kayla doing?”

  “She's devastated, of course. Josh sent word through his lawyer that he wanted to talk to her, but she refused. She doesn't want anything to do with him.”

  “A wise decision on her part,” Susan said. “Josh always seemed like such a nice, polite boy whenever I saw him.” She shook her head. “I still can't believe it.”

  “Well, I'd better get going. Valerie just left a minute ago, so it's up to you two to hold down the fort. She told me the Roadrunner was swamped the day after Christmas, but it's been pretty quiet since then.”

  Chip was right. There wasn't a single customer in the gallery.

  “There's one thing I don't understand,” Susan said, after Chip left. “Remember you told me Josh bought a print from you?”

  “Uh, huh. Of course, it was still there when the police arrested him, so I put it back in stock and issued a refund to his credit card.”

  “Why do you think he bought it?”

  “I'm not really sure, but my best guess is that he thought he could cover his tracks. His fingerprints were on the door, and he touched some other things when he was in the studio. With my print and receipt, he could have explained why he was there. Of course, he would have had to get rid of that tray of brownies.”

  “Makes sense. I feel bad for Kayla. Remember how she blamed herself for bringing Eric the carrot bars?”

  “Yes, I'll bet Josh steered her right to them, but in a way that made her think it was her own idea.”

  “That could be. By the way, I bumped into Gina yesterday at the supermarket, and she's disgusted with Kevin, even though she bailed him out so that he wouldn't have to spend Christmas in jail. She said he became so obsessed with getting back the money Eric owed him that he kind of went off the deep end.”

  “I'll say. Speaking of Kevin, that reminds me. I wonder what happened to Natalie's costume jewelry. Kevin obviously didn't steal it. The only pieces of jewelry the police found on him after he broke into Eric's house were the pearl necklace and diamond ring.”

  “Eric donated all Natalie’s costume jewelry to the charity shop. I went over to the house a few months after Natalie died to help him clear out her things, but we got only as far as the costume jewelry before he broke down and couldn't bring himself to donate her clothes. He asked me to drop off the bag of jewelry at the charity shop. Naturally, I did. I knew he could never force himself to do it.”

  “Well, that solves one mystery. Eric's neighbor, Sylvia Costa, was wearing a large poinsettia brooch the day Kevin broke into the house. Rebecca thought it had belonged to Natalie. She thought Sylvia might have gone into the house and taken it, but she must have bought it at the charity shop.”

  The next day, another mystery was solved when Rebecca called me to tell me she finally found out why Greg had been acting so strangely. He'd been having chest pains and was so petrified by his possible imminent demise that he hadn't gone to the emergency room or even called his doctor until he felt worse and told Rebecca.

  “He spent all day yesterday having tests,” Rebecca told me, “and now his doctor's diagnosed him with angina pectoris. One thing the doctor told him is that stress aggravates his condition, and he's certainly had a lot of that lately, what with Eric's death and finding out Josh killed him. Thank goodness, the doc says Greg will be fine. He needs to take some medication when he has pain, but he should be OK.”

  “That's a relief.”

  “For both of us. I wish he'd said something sooner, but at least we found out what's wrong. He wasn't feeling at all well on Christmas Day when we were visiting the kids in Houston, but I expect New Year's will be a different story. By the way, I hear you're having a project for the new year.”

  “You mean the garage?”

  “Yes. I ran into Belle and Dennis at the park a little while ago, and they told me all about it.”

  “It's great, isn't it? It will be so nice to have a real garage. I'll have an automatic garage door, too.”

  Thanks to Dennis, I thought. After he'd found out that the city building permit for my garage project had never been issued, he'd gone to Lonesome Valley City Hall himself and learned that the delay was due to the mayor. Miraculously, when he mentioned he knew a few members of the city council, the permit was issued. He and Brian planned to start and, hopefully, finish, construction the day after New Year's.

  Brian had made reservations for us to dine at one of the Resort's swankiest restaurants on New Year's Eve. He arrived home a few hours before he was due to pick me up and called to let me know he'd finally made it back to Lonesome Valley after waiting for a delayed flight to take off, but I wouldn't see him until our dinner date.

  Emma had a date of her own for New Year's Eve. Dennis's suspicion that she liked a certain young man who worked at the feed store had been spot on. Matt was an Air Force veteran, six years older than Emma, and he was going to college part-time while acting as assistant manager at the feed store. I met him briefly when he picked Emma up, and I was impressed with his manner. From the way Emma looked at him, I knew she was, too.

  I'd decided to go all out for my date with Brian. I had my hair and nails done at a salon and bought a sparkly new purple dress and high heels for the occasion. As I put on my false eyelashes, I wondered if maybe I was taking it a bit t
oo far. I normally didn't wear so much make-up, but when Brian came to pick me up, I knew it had been worth it.

  “Wow!” he said, scooping me up in his arms. “You look fantastic! Ready to celebrate New Year's?”

  “I certainly am! I'm looking forward to a great New Year.”

  “Me, too,” he said.

  Although Mona Lisa, surveying us from atop her kitty tree's perch, seemed indifferent, Laddie barked approvingly, as Brian kissed me.

  Have you read all the books in the Fine Art Mystery Series? If so, you will also enjoy Paula Darnell’s cozy mystery DIY Diva Series.

  Recipes

  Bourbon Balls

  These holiday goodies taste better when allowed to “ripen” overnight so that the bourbon flavor can permeate the cookie. They make a nice little Christmas gift when packaged in a decorative, airtight tin. As their name implies, these ball-shaped cookies contain real bourbon whiskey, so they're not for teetotalers. Use a high-quality bourbon for the best results. Added bonus: no baking is required!

  Ingredients for Cookies

  1 eleven-ounce box of vanilla wafers

  1 ¼ cup finely chopped pecans

  2 tablespoons cocoa

  2 tablespoons dark corn syrup

  1/3 cup bourbon whiskey

  Ingredients for Rolling Cookies

  4 tablespoons cocoa

  1 ½ cup powdered sugar

  Directions

  Pulverize the vanilla wafers in a food processor, or put them in a gallon freezer bag, zip it closed, and crush them with a rolling pin. Chop the pecans into very small pieces. Put the dry ingredients into a mixing bowl and slowly add the dark corn syrup and the bourbon. Mix the ingredients well until the dough holds together when formed into small balls. Set the cookie mixture aside and combine the cocoa and powdered sugar for rolling the cookies. Mix well. Form the dough into balls about 1 to 1 ¼ inch in diameter. Dust your hands (or your gloved hands) with powdered sugar, and roll each ball in the cocoa-powdered sugar mixture until it's completely covered. Store in an airtight container. Let the bourbon balls sit to “ripen” for at least 24 hours before serving them.