She grimaced. Put the gun back in her lap—still pointing toward the sofa.
“How much would she get?” I asked Dorothy. “An equal share?”
“Of course not. She’s not family. But I did value her service. I would have left her seven percent of my liquid assets.”
“And you’re worth, what, four million? Seven percent is a lot to kill for.”
Cabot snorted. “She not worth that anymore. Another year and she wouldn’t have had a dime left.”
Her employer glared at her. “You horrible, selfish woman. That’s why you killed my grandson? To stop me from helping him?”
I squinted. “I don’t understand.”
Barr said, “The civil suit against Quentin.”
“It was costing a fortune.” Cabot’s eyes pleaded with us to understand. “The court case would have gone on forever. She’d have spent all her money trying to save his reputation.”
“So … get rid of Quentin, which gets rid of the lawsuit, and you get your seven percent of millions instead of nothing in the long run.”
Cabot looked relieved that I understood.
“Funny how none of her grandchildren felt that desperate.” I began to pace. Stopped when I almost walked in front of Barr’s gun.
He looked irritated.
“That’s because they aren’t that desperate,” Cabot said. “Not like me. They all have other income. Spouses. Jobs with benefits. A piece of the meadery. I have nothing. Nothing. You think this woman provides health care or a retirement plan?”
Dorothy waved the gun. “Bah. You’re healthy as a horse. And I pay you well. Should have saved up better.”
Cabot stood. “You paid me crap.”
“Sit down,” Barr said, the words sharp.
She sat back down. “You paid me a pittance, always saying how I had room and board on top of my wages.”
“You did. For fifteen years I gave you a place to stay and food to eat.”
“I’m not a stray dog. And you think it’s so great living here with you? I was going to get a tiny fraction of what your grandkids were going to inherit, but did they have to put up with your nastiness day in and day out?”
Dorothy opened her mouth.
Cabot ran roughshod over her. “No, they did not. They had to put up with you all right, but in dribs and drabs, in tiny little increments. And they didn’t have to do any of the hard work, either. You gave me a roof and food? I bathed you, dressed you, cooked for you, cleaned this mausoleum. I put you to bed at night, was at your beck and call twenty-four seven. I had no life of my own.”
Dorothy stared at her. “I thought … I thought we were friends.”
“You’re a mean old piece of work who demands everything and gives nothing. Friends? Has the dementia finally set in?”
Oh, gosh. I felt bad for Dorothy. I felt bad for Cabot. But maybe they were like one of those dysfunctional couples who stay together out of spite.
“Why didn’t you leave, get another job?” Barr asked.
“Because I couldn’t. I’m too old to start a new career. Even if I found another nursing job, I wouldn’t have any security. I needed that money she promised over and over, in order to survive my retirement with any kind of dignity.”
Barr looked at his watch. Our fifteen minutes of infamy were almost over.
“Was Elizabeth Moser your friend?” I asked.
Cabot’s eyes filled. “I thought so. I don’t have very many friends, and it was so nice to have someone to talk to. I went to her because I was so unhappy, so worried all the time. She helped me understand I wasn’t a victim. That I was in control of my own life. Then she had to go do that.”
“Betray you?”
She nodded. “I had to do it. Don’t you see? I had to kill her. I’d introduced her to mead, and I knew she bought it from A Fine Body and had a glass when she got home from work. See, she told me things like that. That’s what friends do. So I sneaked into her house when I knew she was at the Blackwell Building and replaced the contents of the bottle she had open in the refrigerator. I knew she’d drink it that night. It was so easy. She didn’t even bother to lock her back door.”
We were all quiet for a long moment, the air in the dark living room heavy with confession, desperation, and hatred. I didn’t want to breathe it in anymore.
“Time’s up,” Barr said. “Anything else you want to say?”
“Yes.” Dorothy held her gun up to him. He extracted it carefully from her grasp. “I’m sorry I was so difficult to live with. I had no idea. Thank you for bringing it to my attention.”
I blinked.
She inclined her white head. “And I hope you rot in hell for what you did to my grandson and the woman you considered a friend.”
Cabot started to cry again.
“Sergeant!” Dorothy barked. “Enter!”
_____
No SWAT team waited outside, only Sergeant Zahn and two patrolmen. Cabot went quietly with the officer Sergeant Zahn assigned to take her to the station. Willa had joined the growing number of people across the street and thumped over to her grandmother on her crutches as soon as we all emerged.
“Are you okay? What happened?”
Dorothy patted Willa on the hand. “Cabot killed Quentin. Call a family meeting, and I’ll tell you all about it.” She looked up at Barr. “Are you going to arrest me?”
He smiled. “We have to charge you, but I don’t know that we have to hold you in jail or anything. Where’d you get the gun?”
“My brother gave it to me. He has a lot of them.”
Of course he did.
“Who will take care of you now?” I asked.
“I will,” Willa answered. “And Victoria and Glenwood, until another nurse can be found. After all, Grandmother has always taken good care of us.”
Barr drew me aside. “I’ll need you to come down and make a statement.”
“I’ll come right away, while everything is still fresh.”
“Don’t worry,” he said, and held out his hand. It held a mini-cassette.
“Is that …?”
He nodded. “I taped the whole thing. On one of Elizabeth Moser’s blank cassettes.”
_____
While Cabot had been confessing, the multi-jurisdictional team had been busy. That night Meghan, Erin, Barr, and I sat around the butcher block table eating grilled salmon, asparagus, and wild rice pilaf while my husband filled us in.
“Robin cracked one of the delivery drivers,” he said. “He gave Normal Brown up completely. Now that Jakie is dead, Normal doesn’t have an enforcer, and folks aren’t as afraid of him as they once were.”
“That’s terrific,” Meghan said. She was up to speed on what had been going on the last week and was only mildly peeved at my antics during her absence. “Can you build a good case against him now?”
“Oh, more than good. Once the first driver started talking, two others jumped right in. From what we can tell so far, the old man threatened and blackmailed them into bringing marijuana in from Canada when they delivered mead up there. Dorothy found out and stopped it, but Normal started right back up after a few weeks, even though he told her he’d stopped. The drivers are willing to testify against him.”
“So he’ll go to jail?” Erin asked.
“Oh, yeah. Plus, we raided the house where Jakie nabbed you and found a full-blown meth lab. With Normal in it. He’s toast.”
“As long as the drugs aren’t getting into the schools anymore,” Meghan said.
“What about Jakie?” I asked.
“We’re testing all of Normal’s guns for ballistics. I’m hoping we can find a match for the bullet in Jakie’s chest.”
“Don’t forget the gun he gave Dorothy,” I said.
“I thought of that. The caliber is right, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if that old bastard offloaded a murder weapon on his sister.”
“Not to change the subject,” Meghan said. “But I have some news to share.”
I set
my fork down. “Does it have to do with Mr. O’Connell?”
“It does.” She flashed white teeth in a big grin.
Erin’s eyes got big. “Are you getting married, Mom?”
Meghan cocked her head. “Do you think we should?”
One slim shoulder rose and fell. “I dunno. Do you want to? I mean, like, do you love him?”
My housemate slowly nodded. “Yes, I love him. But no, we’re not getting married. Not yet. He’s going to move to Cadyville next month, though. So we can see what it’s like to actually live in the same town.”
“A step in the right direction,” Barr said.
“And about bloody time,” I said.
_____
Erin sat in the middle of the living room on Sunday afternoon, surrounded by shreds of wrapping paper and a circle of admiring adults. That night there would be a party with her friends at the roller rink, but the afternoon was for us. Tootie and Felix were there, along with Barr and Meghan and me. And Zoe had the privilege of attending both parties.
Barr handed Tootie a jar.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“Victoria’s tea,” I said. “The crime lab says it’s exactly what she said. Black cohosh, meadowsweet, yarrow, and bogbean, with enough peppermint to make it palatable. Knock yourself out.”
“Thank you. I like to think it really helped my arthritis.”
“And she’s still selling it, so let me know if you want more,” I said.
“Time for cake!” Meghan announced, carrying in the lemon cheesecake she’d made that morning, twelve candles flickering on top.
We warbled “Happy Birthday” with varying degrees of vocal ability as Erin jumped up and followed her to the coffee table. When we were done, she grinned at all of us and then looked up at the ceiling, thinking. Then, with one decisive dip of her head, she blew out all the candles.
Meghan cut the cake and Erin distributed plates. Soon we were all seated on cushion, floor, or hearth, and for several seconds the only sounds were the clinking of forks against stoneware.
“I’ve decided what my book is going to be about,” Erin said between bites.
I set my cake down. “Can you tell us? Or will that interfere with your creative process?”
“Nah, I can tell you. See, there’s this girl. She’s, like, twelve or so. And she has a secret fairy godmother who comes and visits her in her dreams. One night she tells the girl she has to save a golden horse.”
“Cool,” Zoe said.
“Yeah. So anyways, she goes to find the golden horse in her dreams. In real life she goes into like a—what do you call them? When you don’t wake up?”
“A coma,” Meghan said.
“Right. A coma. But in the dream place where her fairy godmother lives she goes looking for the golden horse and she meets all these new friends. There’s a talking dragonfly, and a crazy bird lady, and a bunch of flower fairies, and a prince with blond hair and blue eyes.”
She leaned over to Zoe. “He looks just like Justin Scott.”
“Ooh! He’s cute.”
“Right. So they aren’t the only ones trying to find the horse. There’s a big ol’ giant and a little bitty gnome, and they want the horse, too. Only they want to chop it up and sell it—it’s really made of gold, see—but the girl and her friends want to save the horse’s life.”
She beamed at all of us. “I’m going to write it in the journal Sophie Mae gave me.” She held up the red leather blank book I’d found at Kringle’s.
Everyone started talking about the girl and the golden horse. I leaned over to Barr, sitting beside me on the sofa. “That’s what she got out of all those notes she was taking? It has nothing to do with anything that happened last week.”
The look he gave me was full of exaggerated pity. “I guess you just don’t understand the creative process.”
I punched him in the arm.
“She’s pretty amazing,” he said. “Do you think you might want one?”
“What, a twelve-year-old?” I joked. “I think one is enough.”
“No. Not a twelve-year-old. Do you want to have a baby?”
“Oh. Um, I … maybe. We should talk about it, huh.”
He put his hand on my knee and squeezed. “I think so.”
I really didn’t know if I wanted a baby or not. But the clock over the fireplace mantle suddenly seemed very loud.
Tick, tock. Tick, tock.
The End
Refreshing Bath Melts
These are a simple combination of blooming bath oil and bath bombs. The essential oil blend is a great pick-me-up and works well to clear a stuffy nose. Of course you can substitute any other essential oil you like. Be sure whatever you use is safe for your skin. Lavender and tea tree are almost universally tolerated. You can also experiment with the butter (shea and cocoa butter are both nice).
½ cup citric acid
½ cup baking soda
½ cup mango butter
¼ teaspoon each of peppermint, eucalyptus, tea tree, and rosemary essential oils
2 tablespoons Polysorbate 20 (optional)
Thoroughly mix citric acid and baking soda together. Slowly melt the butter in the microwave or over a double boiler. Stir in essential oil and the Polysorbate 20 if you’re using it, then mix with the citric acid and baking soda. Spoon into small molds, being sure to eliminate any air pockets. Place into freezer to harden quickly. Unmold only after the bath melts are completely cold.
Polysorbate 20 is an emulsifier that disperses the oil into the water so it will rinse cleanly down the drain. It’s derived from lauric acid and is considered a nonionic surfactant.
You can buy Polysorbate 20 a number of places online, including www.snowdriftfarm.com. However, if you don’t want to bother, dislike the idea of putting a chemical in your bath melts, and don’t mind a little oil left in the tub, you can just leave it out.
Peppermint Sugar Scrub
Sugar cane produces glycolic acid, which is a natural alpha hydroxyl acid. That, plus the sugar crystals, exfoliate skin to leave it wonderfully soft. It’s nice for your face, but you might find you want to use it all over. You can use any oil you want to, though jojoba oil most closely mimics the oils our skin produce. Avocado or plain old olive oil work well, too. If you have sensitive skin or acne, replace the peppermint oil with lavender and/or tea tree oil. If you have oily skin, replace the oil with liquid glycerin.
1 part white cane sugar
1 part oil
Peppermint essential oil (about ¼ teaspoon per cup of mixture to start)
Combine ingredients thoroughly, slather on and let sit for three or four minutes. You’ll feel your skin tighten a bit, as with a mask. If you wish, rub gently to exfoliate and then rinse thoroughly.
Homemade Ginger Beer
This can be a tricky endeavor as the idea is to harness yeasts which occur naturally in the air to ferment your ginger culture. Certain areas naturally have more yeasts than others (like the distinctive San Francisco sourdough) as do some kitchens. But don’t be intimidated, as it’s a simple process and doesn’t take many ingredients or special equipment. Always make sure your jars, bottles, and utensils are perfectly clean to start with. Read the whole recipe through before you begin so you can see what you’ll need to have on hand.
First you have to make the culture, which is what Tootie teaches Erin how to do. Simply add a teaspoon of either powdered ginger or chopped ginger root to a teaspoon of sugar and a cup and a half of filtered or spring water. Mix together in a wide-mouthed canning jar and cover with a single layer of cheesecloth. You want it to have plenty of access to the air. Let it sit on the kitchen counter for twenty-four hours or so.
Then for the next seven days add another teaspoon of sugar and one of ginger each day and mix thoroughly. If you start with chopped ginger root, don’t switch to powder and vice versa. You are feeding your ginger culture during this week. After a few days it should start to form little bubbles. That means it’s fermentin
g!
On the last day, strain the mixture through a piece of muslin or an old, clean dish towel. Discard the solids (or save them to start another batch) and put the liquid in a bowl or pan that can accommodate seven or more quarts of liquid. Mix in 5 quarts of filtered or spring water, 3 cups of sugar and the juice of two or three lemons. Stir until the sugar dissolves.
Then get out your funnel and the plastic water or soda bottles you’ve saved and carefully washed with hot soapy water, rinsed thoroughly and allowed to dry. Any size works, just make sure you have enough to hold up to 7 quarts. Using plastic rather than glass helps avoid the exploding bottle problem Barr’s mother had with her root beer. Be sure to wash the caps as well.
Fill the bottles, leaving a few inches at the top for the gases to expand as your ginger beer continues to ferment. Twist on the caps. Let the bottles sit at room temperature for two days, checking them often. When you see bubbles forming, put the bottles in the fridge immediately. Your ginger beer is ready to drink! Some bottles may ferment faster than others, especially if you use different sizes. Be careful not to allow any to ferment too long or the pressure inside will spray the contents out when you open it.
If any alcohol forms during the fermentation it is negligible and very diluted at the end, so this drink is suitable for children and adults alike.
Table of Contents
Cover
About the Author
Title Page
Copyright
Acknowledgments
Epigraph
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
Recipes
Wined and Died: A Home Crafting Mystery Page 20
