Death of a Chocoholic
Page 20
Once the paramedics were on their way, Hayley finally relaxed.
She knew Marla would survive.
It was just a surface scratch.
There wouldn’t be enough of the drugs in her system to cause any serious damage.
Hayley was dazed and exhausted.
She didn’t even have enough energy to react when Dr. Palmer took her in his arms, hugging and comforting her.
Still, she knew it felt good.
Chapter 39
The following Monday, Hayley’s final column on the Bessie Winthrop murder was printed in the Island Times. Sal gruffly apologized for not believing in her previously hidden investigative-reporting talents. He didn’t want to make a big deal about Hayley being right. However, with the flood of congratulatory phone calls from locals impressed with how Hayley blew the case wide open, he was left with little choice.
Sergio held a press conference with a few of the local broadcast networks praising Hayley’s dogged pursuit of justice, and both Gemma and Dustin were excited to hear their mother’s name mentioned on the news.
There was silence from the coroner’s office. After being deluged over the weekend with calls from all over the state demanding to know how she could so publicly botch a case, Sabrina issued a curt statement from her office that announced she had “been called out of town for a family emergency and would address all questions” upon her return.
Probably in about a month when all the brouhaha died down. Hayley was guessing Sabrina was licking her wounds at an exclusive spa that Hayley could never afford.
As infuriated as Sabrina probably still was at Hayley, it didn’t even compare to Bruce Linney’s reaction when he returned from his Mexican vacation, only to discover his crime beat column had been hijacked by a crusading do-gooder who insisted on embarrassing all of his sources at the police station and county coroner’s office.
He accused Hayley of trumpeting her own brother-in-law’s incompetence as chief of police.
Hayley quietly informed him that Sergio had personally called her to thank her for keeping his department on their toes, and that he was not the bitter and resentful type. He was more interested in carrying out justice.
Bruce, however, was the bitter and resentful type. It was clear he was just lashing out, enraged that Hayley was a local hero simply by filling in for him while he was gone.
Sal had to assure Bruce his job was safe, and Hayley was going to stick to her food-and-cocktails columns, but that did little to alleviate the tension in the office all morning.
Finally, unable to take it anymore, Sal marched out of his office. “Hayley, take the rest of the day off. You deserve it.”
“But I’m swamped with work, Sal. Look at my in-box.”
“I don’t care. It’ll keep until tomorrow. Hopefully, by then, Bruce will be over his little tantrum, and things can get back to normal around here.”
Hayley wasn’t about to argue.
She knew exactly what she was going to do with her free day.
She drove straight to the high school and signed out Gemma from study hall so she could take her to lunch.
When Gemma was called to the office and saw her mother standing there, waiting for her, she was more than a little concerned. “Oh, God, whatever you think I did, I’m innocent.”
“I don’t think you did anything.”
“Then why are you here? Oh no, did someone else die?”
“No one died. We’re going to lunch.”
“Seriously? You want me to play hookey with you?”
“I got a copy of your schedule. You only have two study halls and a gym class for the rest of the day, and you can do your math and history homework assignments after supper tonight. Come on, let’s go.”
Gemma was still hesitant, but she obediently followed her mother to the car. She kept glancing at Hayley during the ride back to town, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But it never did, and before long they were seated in a booth at Geddy’s restaurant, sharing a plate of fried clams, and looking out at the cold gray ocean surrounding the nearly empty town pier.
“All the kids at school were talking about what a hero you are for fighting off that crazy girl who tried to kill you. Everybody’s calling me ‘Wonder Girl’ and my mom ‘Wonder Woman.’”
“You must hate that.”
“No. It’s kind of cool,” Gemma said, dunking a clam into a small plastic cup of tartar sauce and popping it into her mouth.
“Gemma, I want to talk to you—”
“I knew it. Here it comes. . . .”
“No. I know it’s been tough for you lately, and you’re struggling to find your place in the world—”
“Mom . . .”
“Hear me out. You will figure everything out—”
“Mom, it’s okay. I’m not depressed anymore. In fact, I’ve already figured it out.”
“What?”
“What I want to do. I got to thinking about it that night Leroy ate those chocolates and we rushed him over to Dr. Palmer’s office. I felt so scared and I wanted to help him so bad, but I didn’t know what to do. I felt so helpless. I adore animals so much, and I love taking care of them—”
“Well, there was that hamster I bought for you that you forgot to feed and—”
“I was seven! I’ve grown up since then. And now I’m pretty sure I want to be a vet.”
A vet.
Hayley’s heart burst with pride.
It was so obvious and perfect, and she couldn’t believe she hadn’t thought of it before.
She wanted to reach out and grab her daughter and squeeze her like a big mama bear hugging one of her cubs.
But the look on Gemma’s face was very clear. She did not want her mother gushing or making a scene or displaying any emotion or shows of affection.
Hayley did her best to keep herself composed.
But, damn, it was hard.
Hayley took a deep breath, kept her cool, and nodded. “I think that’s a fine plan.”
The best thing she could have done was to act nonchalant and change the subject.
But rarely did Hayley Powell make the best choices.
She just couldn’t help herself.
“Remember, veterinarian schools are next to impossible to get into. So if you’re serious, you’re going to have keep those grades up—”
“Mother!”
“Okay, you’re right. I’m done talking.”
“As if that’s a promise you have any hope of keeping.”
Such sarcasm.
Where does she get that from?
After lunch Hayley drove Gemma home. When they walked into the house, Hayley stopped suddenly.
“Do you hear that?”
“Hear what?”
“Exactly. It’s quiet. Where are the pets?”
They walked into the living room. Leroy and Blueberry were curled up next to each other on the couch, sleeping soundly. Leroy was snoring gently. Blueberry was purring softly.
“Looks like they’ve called a truce,” Gemma said.
“For now. They can’t be at each other’s throats twenty-four/seven.”
“I think you should give him a chance.”
“Bluebery? I don’t know, Gemma. He’s got a pretty nasty disposition.”
“I’m not talking about the cat. That matter is settled. Look at him. He’s not going anywhere. We’re stuck with him.”
“I know. I just wasn’t ready to face it.”
“I’m talking about Dr. Palmer.”
“Oh, Gemma, please . . .”
“You like him. And he likes you.”
“It’s not a matter of me giving him a chance. We already tried going out and it was a disaster.”
“But that was before you exposed his assistant as a killer. You practically saved his life. He has to be grateful for that.”
“I’m not sure I want to date a man because he feels grateful.”
“Just call him. Invite him over for dinner.”
&nb
sp; “I’m sorry, sweetheart. That ship has sailed. I’m not going to embarrass myself any further.”
Chapter 40
Gemma wanted to scream, but she was so excited that only a tiny squeak managed to escape her mouth. She waved her arms and appeared to be hyperventilating.
Hayley took a step forward to make sure she could catch her in the event she passed out.
“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Gemma gasped.
“You’re doing me the favor. I could sure use the help,” Dr. Aaron Palmer said as he sat at the dining-room table while Hayley refilled his wineglass. “As you and everybody else in town knows by now, I have an opening.”
Hayley had lasted maybe twelve hours before Gemma put the pressure on her again and forced her to call Dr. Palmer. After stammering on the phone about how sorry she was that his assistant had been arrested and charged with first-degree murder, and how it was all her fault that he found himself now short of help, the conversation managed to wind its way around to a casual dinner invite—nothing special, just trying a new chicken mole recipe.
To her utter shock, Aaron happily accepted, and now it was the following Friday evening. Dustin had escaped to his friend Spanky’s house; Gemma was going to go out to the movies with some girlfriends; Aaron was in her house, looking relaxed and gorgeous, his light blue dress shirt open just enough to show off a muscular, bronzed chest.
Who has a bronzed chest in Maine during winter?
The man was practically a god.
But the biggest surprise was when Gemma stopped by the dining-room table to say hello on her way out. After a brief discussion about her veterinarian goals and asking his advice on schools, Aaron offered her a part-time job in his office answering phones and scheduling appointments after school.
Gemma was elated.
It was a giant step forward.
Actual on-the-job training.
Hayley couldn’t believe it herself.
If she wasn’t fond of Aaron before, watching her daughter’s eyes light up, hearing the excitement in her voice, imagining the possibilities racing through her mind, well, for him to do all that, she was more than fond of him now.
A horn honked outside.
“I have to go. The movie starts in ten minutes and I hate missing the previews.”
“I’m the same way,” Aaron said, laughing.
“When do you want me to start?”
“How about Monday?”
Gemma nodded, thanked him again, and floated out the door.
Hayley set the bottle of wine down on the table. Aaron reached out just as she let go of the bottle and took her hand.
She stood there, not quite sure what to do or how to react. Should she say something?
He just sat in the dining-room chair, holding her hand, smiling up at her.
Then he took the napkin out of his lap and placed it on the table. He stood up to face Hayley.
Her heart was beating so loud that she was sure Leroy and Blueberry could hear it from the other room.
“I know things between us got off to a messy start,” Aaron said, slipping an arm around her waist and pulling her toward him. “But you know what? Sometimes I like messy.”
He kissed her.
Softly.
The scent of a strong, manly cologne wafted up her nostrils.
Her knees were weak.
His hand was now cradling the back of her head as he pulled her even closer, until the tips of their noses were touching.
Their lips locked.
Hayley tried desperately not to swoon.
She would hate to be considered a swooner.
Too late.
Hayley swooned.
Finally, after a long, intoxicating, passionate kiss, they slowly pulled apart.
And stared at each other.
Smiling.
The silence was too much for her. “We haven’t even gotten to the main course. I thought the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. All you’ve had so far is a salad.”
Aaron laughed.
The romantic moment was abruptly interrupted by a loud knock at the front door.
“I don’t know who that could be. I’ll be right back.”
Aaron nodded, then sat back down at the table and took a sip of his wine.
Hayley crossed out of the dining room, through the living room to the front porch, and opened the door.
“Surprise,” a man’s voice said.
Hayley stood there numbly.
At first, she thought her eyes were playing tricks on her.
It couldn’t be.
Whatever they had was over.
He left town.
Never to return.
But here he was.
Right now.
In this moment.
Standing before her, with flowers in one hand and a box of chocolates in the other.
“I know I’m a little late, but Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Lex Bansfield was back.
Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell
As many of you know by now, yesterday there was a lovely memorial service for the late Bessie Winthrop, and I was very pleased to see it so well attended. This is one of the nice things about our town. When one of us departs, there is usually a good send-off.
However, I was a little surprised to notice not as many people attended the reception immediately following the service, which usually is the high point of any Bar Harbor funeral. There is always lots of food and fond memories. I think that may have been due to the fact there was a rumor going around that chocolates were being served. And Bessie’s chocolates didn’t have the best reputation with the locals.
After poor Bessie’s demise, I was informed by her lawyer that she had included me in her will, and I was the lucky recipient of all her chocolate recipes.
I picked them up and took them home and set the box on the counter, touched by Bessie’s kind gesture. As I stared at the index cards with Bessie’s scribbling all over them, I felt in my heart that I needed to find some way to prove to everyone that poor Bessie really was a world-class chocolatier. Okay, her kitchen did have a few sanitary issues, but I really did love the taste of her chocolates. It became my mission to show the town that she did have at least one winning recipe to die for. Scratch that. You know what I mean.
My perfect opportunity arose when the Sea Coast Mission, which holds a yearly chili cook-off fund-raiser for the Bar Harbor Food Pantry, decided to forgo chili in favor of chocolate in honor of Bessie. (This is a very forgiving town.)
Finally here was my chance! I searched through Bessie’s chocolate recipes, hoping to find the perfect one; and about halfway through the stack, I found the one I was looking for. It was a recipe called “Hayley’s Kisses,” one Bessie created just for me. I knew for a fact they were delicious, because I ate almost the whole box in one sitting!
On the night of the chocolate fund-raiser, there were over thirty entries, and I swear half the town packed the mission to see who was going to win.
I walked around, nervously sampling bites of the competing chocolates, which had all been given a number so no one would know who baked which chocolates. Despite the stiff competition, I was still holding out hope for an upset.
When the big moment arrived, Mr. Ward, the head of the Sea Coast Mission, began announcing the winners, starting with third place. Number 16, Candy Appleton. Okay, yeah, her peanut butter cups weren’t bad. Second place to number 9. Okay, Jeff Bingham’s fudge brownies would make anyone swoon, but mostly because he adds a healthy dose of pot. Finally first place went to—drumroll, please—number 25. Me! It was me! I let out a whoop and raced to the front, and Mr. Ward handed me my grand prize, ten free movie tickets to Reel Pizza. He asked me what I called my winning chocolate recipe.
I smiled and turned to the audience and thanked everyone who chose my chocolates, and I told Mr. Ward they were called “Bessie’s Bonbons,” since it was she who had gifted me with the recipe. Everyone gasped in s
urprise. But then they began clapping for Bessie’s now prize-winning chocolates. Well, everyone except for the Shop ’n Save owner Ron Hopkins, who had just taken a bite of my chocolates and then spit it out in his napkin and inspected it for cat hair.
It was a fitting tribute to Bessie’s talent, and today I’ve already received five calls from friends asking for Bessie’s special chocolate recipe. I know she’s looking down from above, proud of the recognition she so richly deserves, and happy to share her recipe with the world. So here it is. But before you start baking, unwind with a soothing cocktail, like Bessie and I always loved to do.
Long-Day Bourbon Cocktail
Ingredients
2 clementine wedges
2 lemon wedges
2 ounces favorite bourbon
½ ounce Cointreau orange
liqueur
2 dashes chocolate bitters
Muddle your orange and lemon in a cocktail shaker; then add all of your ingredients and add ice. Shake and strain into a cocktail glass. Grab a couple of bonbons and relax after a long day.
Bessie’s First-Prize-Winning Bonbons
Ingredients
4 cups confectioners’ sugar
1 cup ground pecans
½ cup plus 2 tablespoons sweetened
condensed milk
¼ cup butter, softened
3 cups (18) ounces semisweet
chocolate chips
2 tablespoons shortening
In a large bowl, combine your confectioners’ sugar, pecans, milk, and butter. Roll into one-inch balls. Place on a waxed-paper-lined baking sheet. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
In a microwave melt your chocolate chips and shortening; stir until smooth. Dip the balls in the chocolate; allow excess to drip off. Place on waxed paper; let stand until set.