Arch was enthralled. “Oh, Mom! A hidden kid! That’s even cooler than a boy ghost who opens windows!”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“From Michaela,” Arch said, pivoting on his crutches to watch Mildred. “While you were in the hospital. The ghost opens the window to get fresh air, because he died of pneumonia in that room. That was where he couldn’t breathe. Every once in a while, they see him at the window of what’s now the kitchen. He’s wearing his little Elizabethan outfit with the ruffled collar, and he always opens the window.”
Good heavens, I thought.
“Michaela also told me Mildred doesn’t officially exist. When Michaela got real sick after she had Mildred? They evacuated her by helo out of the castle, and the medics saw the baby there with Michaela’s father, who helped raise Mildred before he died.”
The retained placenta mentioned by the flight nurse? Probably. I’d almost forgotten it.
“But Mildred never got a birth certificate,” Arch said. “Michaela’s going to have to get her one so Mildred can get an official name, and Social Security, and immunizations and all that stuff. Problem is, Michaela will probably get into lots of trouble for shooting out our window.”
“I’m pretty sure Mildred will become Mildred Kirovsky,” I told my son. “And the way I heard it, Michaela’s not being charged with anything regarding our window, as long as she cooperates with the police on the Viv Martini investigation. We’re certainly not going to press charges.”
“That’s good, anyway,” said Arch as he bumped away. He was getting awfully agile on his crutches. “The fencing team needs her back before the state meet. Oh,” he added as an afterthought, “Howie Lauderdale called and apologized. He said his father offered him a hundred dollars to win the bout with me. He felt really bad, and of course he didn’t take any money. I told him I forgave him.” He smiled, and so did I.
“Tom called on my cellular,” Julian informed me when I reached the refreshments table, “since you lost yours in the moat. He’s tying up some loose ends with Boyd and will be here as soon as he can. He says Eliot signed the immunity deal. Eliot has promised to cooperate fully.” He served punch to the first three student couples to arrive. “And, uh, it looks like John Richard’s probation might have come to an end, although that’s being debated, too. Oh, and they’re draining the moat, to try to find the stamps.”
I smiled. “How about our house?”
Julian grinned. “Saving the best until last. The window’s fixed, and so is the security system. You guys can go back there tonight.”
The music started. Overhead rotating lights, covered with red cellophane, began to swirl, bathing the gym in a scarlet-tinted, festive air. Arch was hopping back and forth on his crutches. I looked more closely. He was dancing with Lettie, she of the recent breakup. Incredible. But then again, it was Valentine’s Day.
The cookies and punch were a hit. Julian served with efficiency and panache. I wished I could have helped him, because just sitting and brooding was making me nuts. I hadn’t asked Tom how his meeting with Sara Beth had gone. I hadn’t had the heart.
At length, Tom entered the gym. He had a new sling on his arm, I noticed, and a jauntier-than-usual air about him. He made straight for our table.
“Miss G.,” he said.
“We should talk,” I said nervously.
He held up his hand. “Before you ask, when I left Sara Beth, she told me how much she liked you. I’m … sorry I didn’t tell you sooner that she’d contacted me. Like right away, the first of January.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t trust you,” I replied.
Sticks and stones may break my bones, but keeping secrets can. …
Fearing he might lose his wife, Eliot had kept Mildred’s existence secret from Sukie. Sukie, in turn, had kept her history of cancer secret from Eliot, fearing it would make her look flawed and undesirable. That’s why she never mentioned knowing my ex-husband. Viv had deceived John Richard by blinding him with sex, and Andy Balachek’s attempts to double-cross his partners had cost him his life.
But now Viv was under arrest, and John Richard was in all kinds of trouble with his parole officer. Sukie had told me that she and Eliot were staying together, no matter what. She wanted to have a relationship with Mildred, and Eliot sheepishly admitted that he wanted to get to know his daughter better, too, no matter how it would tarnish his reputation. Still, Michaela was moving out of the castle, Sukie had added, but only when she and Mildred were ready.
Tom and I, unfortunately, had not done much better than these folks in the full-disclosure department. We stood there, bathed in the crimson lights, facing each other. The first test of honesty in our marriage had ended in about a C+. But we’d survived and remained committed to each other. And wasn’t that what counted?
Tom bowed as low as his injury would allow him. “Miss G ….or should I say, my dear Valentine, would you dance with me?”
I allowed him to tug me gently upright. The music had turned slow and romantic. An unexpected thrill darted up my spine. Then the two of us, looking like wounded veterans, stepped onto the dance floor. With infinite care, I put my hands around Tom’s waist. My burned arm wouldn’t reach to a proper dance position. Tom put his good hand around my waist. We started to move together.
“Sara Beth is on her way back to Vietnam,” he said matter-of-factly. “She doesn’t plan on returning. Her reality is in another part of the world now. Goldy—” He lifted his hand to touch my cheek. “Thanks for understanding.”
I wouldn’t go so far as to say I understood. Maybe I never would—totally.
I said, “I’ve heard about guys with gunshot wounds. Apparently, if they’re real careful, they can make love after five days of healing.”
Tom pulled me to him with his good arm, then swung me around. He leaned in close to my ear and murmured, “Oh, yeah? Where’d you hear that?”
And so I danced with my husband, my Valentine. After a few blissful moments, I checked the food table. It was unmanned. Scanning the dance floor, I saw Julian dancing with a lovely, dark-haired girl. An Elk Park Prep faculty member? An alum? Why had I never seen her before? Had Julian just met her? Or were they old friends?
“Tom,” I whispered, “who’s that girl dancing with Julian?”
Tom pulled me close. “Goldy,” he murmured in my ear. Tingles again raced up my spine. “Will you never stop?”
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
DIANE MOTT DAVIDSON lives in Evergreen, Colorado, with her family. She is the author of ten bestselling culinary mysteries and is at work on her eleventh, Chopping Spree.
If you savored
DIANE MOTT DAVIDSON’S
Sticks & Scones
and are hungry for more, you won’t want to miss another helping of culinary crime. Look for her latest mouthwatering mystery,
Chopping Spree
coming in hardcover from Bantam Books in 2002!
CHOPPING SPREE
Diane Mott Davidson
STICKS & SCONES
A Bantam Book
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Bantam hardcover edition/April 2001
Bantam paperback edition/June 2002
All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2001 by Diane Mott Davidson
Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 00-069662
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
For information address: Bantam Books.
eISBN: 978-0-307-42943-8
Bantam Books are published by Bantam Books, a division of Random House, Inc. Its trademark, consisting of the words “Bantam Books” and the portrayal of a rooster, is Registered in U.S. Patent and Trademark Office and in other countries. Marca Registrada. Bantam Books, 1540 Broadway, New York, New York 10036.
v3.0
Table of Contents
/>
Cover
Other Books By This Author
Title Page
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
About the Author
Copyright
Sticks & Scones Page 31
