3.5 Roasted in Christmas River

by Meg Muldoon

  But I couldn’t help but think… maybe if the turkey was indeed stolen, then maybe there was still a chance, no matter how small it was, for the bird to be saved for the Dulanys.

  “I guess that’s possible,” Daniel said.

  I looked up at him for a long moment, and then back out the window.

  “Well, it seems like a nice night out there, don’t you think?” he said, looking down at me. “Maybe a little cold, but it’s nothing that can’t be handled.”

  I smiled, knowing what he meant.

  “I’ll go get dressed,” I said.

  Chapter 19

  I didn’t make a habit of dragging my husband out of bed at three o’clock in the morning to go on a lost cause expedition.

  But I don’t think he minded that much.

  We were once again back in his truck, out on the empty streets of Christmas River. The town was deader than a doornail. Not a soul was out at this hour. The streets shone with frost and ice, and there was a stiff wind that made the brittle branches of the trees shake and groan.

  I was glad I wasn’t alone out here.

  “That Aileen seems real nice,” Daniel said, rubbing his sleep-encrusted eyes.

  “I know,” I said. “I think Warren struck gold this time.”

  Daniel nodded.

  “I don’t know how the old man did it,” he said. “I mean, she seems perfectly intelligent. Doesn’t she? What do you think she sees in that old chatty bas—”

  “Daniel Brightman!” I said. “Did I not just warn you earlier regarding talking nonsense about my grandfather? Now you’re going to pay.”

  “Easy, easy,” he said, holding up his hands for a brief moment. “I was just checking to make sure you were still awake.”

  I crossed my arms, pretending to be angry.

  “I’ll have you know that my grandfather is quite the catch,” I said. “In fact, I’m sure many a lady would…”

  I trailed off, staring out the passenger seat window, noticing a flash of light in the woods that bordered the road.

  “Wait, slow down,” I said, abruptly. “I saw something out there.”

  Daniel tapped the brakes and then pulled off to the side of the downtown street.

  “This is about where the homeless camp is,” he said.

  He put the car in park and then killed the engine. He turned toward me.

  “Now, I think you should stay here, Cin,” he said. “We don’t know who’s out in those woods, and it could be dangerous.”

  I raised my eyebrows.

  “No way,” I said.

  “Cinnamon, I really think you should—”

  “We’re doing this together, aren’t we?” I said.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Well, I’ll just worry about you if you leave me here. You shouldn’t go out there alone either.”

  He let out a sigh, looking up into the rearview mirror.

  After a moment, he looked back at me.

  “Fine,” he said. “But you stay right by me, okay? And just follow my lead. These places aren’t pretty.”

  I nodded.

  “All right,” he said. “Let’s go then.”

  We got out of the car, and he grabbed my hand, holding it tightly.

  Then we made our way into the frozen woods, following the light of the campfire.

  Chapter 20

  Two men were huddled around the fire, curled up in thin and worn sleeping bags that couldn’t have provided much warmth against the brutal wind weaving around the trees.

  I felt an ache in my heart, seeing them there like that. Much like the same pain I’d felt when I’d seen Tobias sleeping out on the street the other day.

  But I tried not to let my emotions get too far away from me. After all, I didn’t know these men. There was probably a reason they were out here and not at home with a family or the love of a good woman.

  I tried to stay as rational as I could about the situation as we approached them, though my heart was finding it hard to do.

  I stepped on a twig by accident and it made a loud snapping sound. One of the men shot straight up from his sleeping bag, looking in our direction with wide and scared eyes.

  “Aw, just hold on now a minute, Sheriff,” the man said in a gravelly voice. “We’re not trying to do no harm. We’re just trying to get a night’s sleep somewhere, thas all.”

  The man, who appeared to be in his mid-fifties and who had a long grey beard, started getting up, but Daniel waved his arms gently, as if to say ‘It’s all right.’

  “I’m not here to bust you,” he said. “I’m just here to see if you fellas have some information.”

  A look of relief swept across the homeless man’s face.

  “Information you say?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” Daniel said. “I was wondering if you know anything about a guy named Tobias? He sometimes sets up outside the drug store downtown. Do you know him?”

  “Sure we know Tobias,” the other man in the sleeping bag said, sitting up and propping himself against a log. “The guy never shuts up.”

  Daniel turned back, raising an eyebrow at me, as if to say Now I know why you took a liking to him.

  I guess I had a thing for old guys who liked to talk a lot.

  “Either of you seen Tobias lately?” Daniel asked.

  “Not since Tuesday,” the one with the beard said. “S.O.B. got lucky and won hisself a bed at the shelter for a few nights. Normally, he’d be out here with us, but I guess we ain’t the lucky ones.”

  I looked at Daniel, furrowing my brow.

  If Tobias was at the shelter, it seemed unlikely that he would’ve been out on the streets, looking for a turkey to eat.

  “Is Tobias the stealing type?” Daniel asked. “I mean, has he done that sort of thing before?”

  “No siree,” the other man said, shaking his head vigorously. “And I ain’t just saying that either. You see, I know because I was that type once upon a time. If you’re like me, you know one of your own kind when you see ‘em. And Tobias ain’t my kind. He might have thought about it once and while. Hell, we all have. But I’d bet my front teeth that old Tobias wouldn’t follow through with it if it came down to it.”

  He smiled. In the light of the campfire, I could see that where his two front teeth should have been was just one big gaping hole.

  He cackled.

  “Oops, already made that bet.”

  The other man started laughing too. Then the man with the missing teeth started coughing hard.

  “Sorry about that,” he said. “I like to surprise folks with that one. But I ain’t lying about Tobias. He’s a straight arrow.”

  “Just a man with a few screws missing upstairs on account of the war,” the other man chimed in. “But that Tobias ain’t a bad dude.”

  Daniel nodded.

  He pulled something from his pocket and handed something to both of the men.

  “You all get yourselves something nice for dinner later, all right?”

  The one with no teeth grinned toothlessly, unfolding the money in his hand and holding it up against the light of the fire.

  “Well, you’ve got my vote come next Sheriff’s election,” he said.

  The other man just stared down at the bills in his hand with an open mouth, too surprised to say much.

  Daniel reached for my hand.

  “Happy Thanksgiving,” I said to the two men.

  “Happy Thanksgiving, ma’am,” the toothless one said.

  The other man was still admiring the bill.

  Daniel and I backed away and headed to the car.

  I squeezed Daniel’s arm and gazed up at him.

  He acted like he didn’t know what I meant by it.

  “What?” he finally said.

  I shook my head.

  “Nothing,” I said. “Just, that was nice of you back there is all.”

  We got into the car and drove back home.

  We hadn’t found out what became of Jack Daniels, but maybe we’d
done a little good in the meantime.

  Chapter 21

  I popped one last, final batch of the Chocolate Hazelnut Liqueur pies into the oven, and then leaned back against the kitchen wall, catching my breath.

  It was still before 8 a.m., and I realized, rather gleefully, that because of all the hard work this morning, I was going to get out of here at a decent hour.

  I’d made an enormous number of pies for folks’ Thanksgiving tables this season, and I was spent more than a shopaholic’s credit card on Black Friday.

  But I knew it was only just the beginning.

  The day, what with its cooking, baking, cleaning, decorating, serving, and conversationalizing, was going to be a real humdinger. Plus, the weatherman said a mean winter storm was set to descend upon Christmas River tonight, which meant that some of the guests would most likely be forced to spend the night at our house.

  Which was fine with me, except that it meant I’d have to do a couple of laundry loads to make up the beds.

  I tried not to take it all on. I tried to push all of that out of my mind and focus on what I had accomplished at the moment. Which was quite a lot, really.

  Making this many pies in such a short amount of time was no easy feat. And it brought me joy to think that my pies were going to be the ending to so many of the Thanksgiving meals here in Christmas River this season.

  I suddenly heard the front door jingle. I headed for the dining to greet whoever had arrived in my pie shop.

  “Hi, how can I help…”

  I stopped talking when I saw who it was.

  Meredith Drutman and her son were standing at the counter. She was drumming her hand against the tabletop like she’d been waiting there for hours, rather than just a few seconds.

  “Please tell me you have my pies ready,” she said in a demanding tone. “I’ve just got so much to do today.”

  I crossed my arms and stared at her.

  She sure wasn’t the only one.

  Chapter 22

  After speaking to the two homeless men in the woods earlier that morning, I was fairly convinced that Tobias wasn’t the one who had stolen Jack Daniels the turkey.

  Which really left only two other suspects.

  Meredith and her son.

  Though he couldn’t have been more than 11 years old, Hunter had the word “troublemaker” practically stamped on his forehead. He was wearing a baseball cap off to one side, and he smacked his gum loudly. From beneath his bill, he gave me a long once over, something I’m sure he learned from his mom and older sister. When he caught me looking at him, he gave me a punk expression, as if he was saying What are you looking at?

  Maybe I hadn’t believed Deb earlier about this kid actually busting Jack Daniels out of his pen.

  But now that I had met him in person, I was beginning to buy into her theory.

  I shot him a sharp look before going in the back and getting the pies Meredith ordered.

  I brought them out and rang them up. She pushed a credit card my way without saying a word.

  I cleared my throat.

  “So, uh, you have a lot of cooking to do today?” I asked.

  Meredith and Hunter stared back at me like I was thicker than a redwood tree.

  “Of course I have a lot of cooking,” she said sharply. “It’s Thanksgiving.”

  “You planning on having all the fixings this year?” I asked, trying to poke around without her guessing at what.

  “Yes,” she said bluntly.

  I cleared my throat again.

  “Sweet potatoes, stuffing, biscuits?”

  She looked as put out as if I had asked her to roll up her sleeves and work a shift.

  “Yes,” she said. “All the fixings. Now would you hurry up? I’m working on a tight schedule.”

  She glanced at her watch.

  “The turkey needs to get in the oven in exactly 20 minutes if it’s going to come out in time. Please just run my card so I can go.”

  She tapped her shoe on the floor, and I felt my cheeks flush.

  I didn’t much care for the way she was talking to me.

  I’d done her a favor, making these pies for her when I didn’t have to. She’d missed the deadline, but I’d been kind enough to let it slide. Yet here she was, talking to me as if I was the help.

  I put her credit card down, having not run it yet, and crossed my arms.

  To hell with it. She was in my pie shop. I’d talk as much as I wanted to.

  “Cinnamon, what did I just say?” she said, raising her voice a little bit when she saw I wasn’t getting a move on. “I know you like socializing, the way you were with that homeless man the other day, but I just don’t have the time for chit chat.”

  The rude tone in her voice was unbelievable.

  She put her hands on her hips and then glared at me.

  “And speaking of that homeless man, Peggy Allen was in here the other day. She said she saw him in here again. Now, Cinnamon, it’s your establishment. But when word gets around that this is becoming a homeless hang-out, the folks in my circle aren’t going to like that. I mean, have you thought about the health codes? Have you—”

  I felt my ears grow red with anger, but I tried not to blow my top.

  Instead, I redirected the conversation where I wanted it to go.

  “So that turkey,” I continued, as if I hadn’t heard what she’d just said. “You get it from the grocery store, or did you get it from somewhere else?”

  I looked directly at Hunter when I said it, raising an eyebrow.

  The kid was stone-faced.

  Meredith let out an aggravated sigh.

  “I’m in a hurry. Do you need me to spell it out for you? H-U-R-R…”

  She reached for the paper bag of pies, but I pulled it toward me before her sharp manicured nails could snatch it.

  “I know how it’s spelled,” I said, between gritted teeth. “I also know that someone’s missing a turkey this Thanksgiving, someone who your son wronged. And I’m just wondering if you know anything about what happened to this turkey.”

  She glanced over at Hunter, whose steely expression had soured into a nasty one. Then she looked back at me.

  I saw the resemblance between the two as Meredith’s expression turned downright nasty.

  “You’re a lunatic, Cinnamon,” she said. “Now give me those pies or we’re going to have a serious problem.”

  “You’re saying that you don’t know Deb Dulany?” I asked.

  I hadn’t wanted to make this a big deal. In fact, I had wanted to ask her tactfully if she knew anything about a turkey theft in Deb’s neighborhood.

  But here she was, pushing me into realms of rudeness that I didn’t much care to venture into.

  “Oh, I know her,” Meredith said, her eyes cold as ice. “I know her all right.”

  “Do you know anything about what happened to their turkey, Meredith?” I asked.

  Hunter scoffed loudly, and I thought Meredith’s eyes might just bulge out of her head.

  “Give me those pies,” she said again. “Or so help me, I’ll walk right out of here.”

  “Do you?” I said again.

  “She’s crazy, mom,” Hunter said. “Crazier than a—”

  “Did that accident the other night knock something loose?” Meredith interrupted. “Because I think you’ve lost your mind, Cinnamon. You must be clear out of that little bitty pea brain of yours.”

  She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth and then leaned toward me.

  “I didn’t do it. And Hunter couldn’t have taken that turkey,” she said in a low voice. “He’s been grounded all week. But you know, that news about the Dulany turkey just made my day. That backstabbing witch deserves a lot worse, and so does that son of hers. Her and those bratty kids of hers ain’t nothing but pure white tras—”

  I pushed the credit card back toward her abruptly.

  She could say all she wanted about me and about Deb.

  But pulling Frankie and hi
s sister into it, calling them white trash… now that was something I wouldn’t stand for.

  Not in my shop.

  “You and Hunter should leave now, Meredith,” I said, clutching the bag of pies to my chest and narrowing my eyes at her.

  Meredith’s face turned bright red.

  “Cinnamon, you—”

  “You oughta treat people better, Meredith. You really should.”

  She stared at me with a kind of rage that could have set whole buildings on fire.

  But I could take it.

  Maybe it was cruel to turn someone away on Thanksgiving. But someone like Meredith didn’t know the meaning of Thanksgiving anyway.

  She just knew how to be mean-spirited, gossipy, and cruel.

  She balled her hands up into fists at her side.

  “So help me God, Cinnamon, if you don’t give me those pies, I’ll—”

  I stomped in the back, taking my pies with me. I grabbed something from the cupboard and came back out to the front.

  She was still steaming there.

  “Here,” I said, tossing her a bag of pecans. “That’s enough to get you started.”

  “You think you can get away with this,” she said in a low, barely-controlled voice. “But you can’t. I’m going to tell everyone in my circle what you did here today, Cinnamon. And I know people. You just watch your Yelp and Facebook pages tomorrow. They’re gonna be littered with one-star reviews for this dump.”

  I crossed my arms against my chest, meeting her bitter gaze with confidence.

  Meredith held her stare as if she was trying to swing punches at me with her eyes.

  Then she grabbed Hunter’s hand, and quickly stomped across the dining room floor out of the shop.

  She slammed the door behind them.

  I let out a long sigh of relief.

  Maybe I had just made a big enemy there. Maybe I was going to get a ton of bad reviews tomorrow morning.

  But sometimes, you had to just follow your gut with things.

  And my gut said that Meredith wasn’t deserving of my pies this Thanksgiving.

  But at least her visit had been worth something.