“Oretta told Ginnie and me about her ‘masterpiece’ the night Kevin Poffenberger disappeared. The search for another missing child must have triggered repressed memories that she needed to get off her chest. The final straw for Ginnie must have been when Eddie's body was found and she realized Oretta's version of his death was fact, not fiction.”
Noel rushed into the room and mewed frantically at me. “What are you trying to tell me, sweetie?” I asked.
“I think she's telling you someone's pounding on your back door,” Luscious said. “I'll get it.”
He was back in a minute, followed by a man whom I didn't recognize at first. My mailman. In civilian clothes.
“Morning, Miss Miracle. See your porch finally bit the dust.”
“Lucky you weren't under it,” I said, rising. Why was he here on Christmas morning? Was he looking for a tip?
“Big package of mail came in last night from Harris-burg for you. Saw the letters and foreign stamps. Look like they might be from Costa Rica. Thought you might like to have them as soon as possible, so I took them with me.”
I grabbed the letters from his hand. More than a dozen of them. All from Garnet! Some postmarked more than six weeks ago.
“Some countries don't got such good mail service as we'uns do here in the good old U.S. of A.,” he said.
“Thank you,” I whispered, holding the letters close to my heart.
“How about some coffee?” Luscious asked.
“Sounds good.”
“And fruitcake,” I said. “I'll get it.” In the kitchen, I placed my precious letters on the table. I'd read them later, when I was alone.
I started a fresh pot perking, and as I sliced more fruitcake, I heard a knock at the door. Marvin Bumbaugh, accompanied by Lickin Creek's Laotian mayor, Prince Somping, glowered at me as I greeted him.
“Where's Luscious?” he demanded. “His mother said he was here.”
“And Merry Christmas to you, too,” I said sweetly.
“Oh, yeah. Merry Christmas, ya-dee-ya-dee-ya-da.”
I led the two men into the living room, where Marvin verbally launched an assault on Luscious. “I got a call from Henry this morning, Miller. He said there was another mysterious death last night. Some woman what lives in this neighborhood. Not really from here. You'uns better tell me what the hell's going on.”
The mayor, whose English was probably better than Marvin's, nodded in agreement. “What's going on?” he repeated.
Luscious's answer was to hand Marvin the letter Gin-nie had written to me. “This should explain everything.”
Marvin carried it over to the window where the light was better and read it slowly. “Dear God,” he said when he was finished. “She killed them both.” The mayor took the letter and scanned it quickly.
Marvin wiped his brow with his handkerchief. “Looks like this winds up the murder investigation. Miller, the job's still yours if you want it.”
Luscious thought about that for two or three seconds before saying, “Thanks, boss. I'll stay.”
Through the window, I saw a four-wheel-drive vehicle coming up the driveway. “Now what?” I said, heading toward the back of the house.
“Western Union,” said the teenager at the back door. “This just came for you. Usually we call, but the phones are down.”
“Come in.” I opened the yellow envelope, scanned it, and began to cry for the umpteenth time that morning.
“Bad news?” the teenager asked.
I shook my head. “Good news. Great news.” I ran into the living room waving the paper. “I have a baby brother,” I yelled. “A Christmas baby.”
“That's wonderful,” Luscious said. The others added their congratulations.
“They named him Billy—in memory of my brother.” My voice choked, and I couldn't continue.
“I'll get the coffee,” Luscious said.
I sat down on the sofa and gazed into the fire. God had given me a second chance to be a sister. This time I was going to do it right.
“Look who I found at the back door,” Luscious said, as he came in carrying the heavy tray. He stepped aside with a smile on his face.
“Alice-Ann!”
My best friend in the whole world sat down beside me and took my hand. “I've missed you,” she said.
“I thought you were never going to speak to me again,” I said.
“After the apple festival, when you found out about Meredith, I didn't want to face up to my disastrous taste in men, so I lashed out at you. I was so wrong. Can you ever forgive me?”
First she'd chosen a lousy husband, then a rotten fiance. Alice-Ann needed me in her life to steer her away from inappropriate men. I hugged her. “There's nothing to forgive. I'm just happy to have you back.”
Fred forgave her, too, and proved it by rubbing against her ankles. “I'm so glad you got him back from that crazy artist,” Alice-Ann said.
“You were the clown,” I gasped. “I can't believe I didn't recognize you.”
Alice-Ann giggled and pushed her streaky blonde hair out of her eyes. “I saw Fred ‘at work’ in the studio the morning of the parade and wanted to let you know where he was. I was going to slip the note under your door, but I couldn't resist handing it to you when I saw you at the parade.”
“Fruitcake, everybody?” Luscious asked.
“I brought some eggnog,” Alice-Ann said.
A few minutes later, we were all happily munching cookies and cake and drinking eggnog and coffee. Except for Luscious, who whispered, “No eggnog for me. Greta's got me going to A.A.”
I looked around the cozy living room at my guests: Marvin, the mayor; Luscious; the mailman; the telegram teen; and Alice-Ann. Although this wasn't exactly the group I would have chosen to spend Christmas morning with (with the exception of Alice-Ann, of course), it worked. Maybe that “threefold law” Cassie had mentioned really did work. I felt as if I were getting back much more than I had given. And this was certainly better than the lonely Christmas morning I had expected.
Despite everything that had happened, this really was turning out to be my best Christmas ever. I raised my glass. “To all of you—a very Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Tori,” they responded. Outside, the bells in the steeples of all the Lickin Creek churches rang out in unison: “Joy to the World.”
Alice-Ann, drawing on her vast knowledge of English literature, quietly quoted Tennyson. “‘They bring me sorrow touch'd with joy, /The merry merry bells of Yule.’”
Praxythea Evangelista's Crescent Cookies
1 cup soft butter ½ cup sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla 1¾ cups sifted flour ½ cup each finely chopped almonds and pecans ¼ teaspoon salt 1 cup confectioner's sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla
Cream butter; gradually beat in ½ cup sugar. Add 1 teaspoon vanilla, sifted flour, nuts, and salt. Chill well.
Shape into crescents, using ½ tablespoon dough for each, and place on greased cookie sheets. Heat oven to 300 degrees and bake for 25 to 28 minutes. Allow cookies to cool about 10 minutes. Roll in 1 cup confectioner's sugar to which 1 teaspoon of vanilla has been added.
Makes about 3½ dozen.
Praxythea Evangelista's Fruitcake
1 lb. candied pineapple ½ lb. candied cherries 1 lb. pitted dates 1 lb. chopped figs 1 lb. chopped pecans (in large pieces) ½ cup white granulated sugar 1 cup water 2 tablespoons white corn syrup 3.tablespoons lemon juice ½ cup port wine or sherry 4 cups sifted flour 1½ teaspoons cinnamon 1 tablespoon each of allspice, cloves, and baking soda 2 teaspoons salt 1 lb. butter 1½ cups brown sugar 1½ cups white sugar 12 eggs ½ cup light molasses
Chop fruit and nuts and place in a glass bowl. Make a medium syrup by heating ½ cup white sugar and 1 cup water to boiling point and simmer for 5 minutes. To the cooled syrup, add white corn syrup, lemon juice, and sherry (or port wine). Pour over the fruit and nuts. Let sit for several days in refrigerator, stirring often with wooden spoon.
Line three or four loaf pans (4½″ × 8½″)
or one angel food cake pan with brown paper. Grease and flour center post of the angel food pan.
Sift flour, measure, and resift with spices, baking soda, and salt. Cream together butter, sugar, eggs, and molasses. Dust fruit and nuts with about ¾ to 1 cup flour mixture to prevent settling to bottom of pan. Add remaining flour mixture to creamed sugar mixture. Combine with nuts and fruit. Put in pan(s). Place pan(s) in a large baking pan containing ¼ inch water. Pat top of cake(s) with milk to make a film. Heat oven to 250 degrees and bake for two to three hours. (You may have to add more water to the large baking pan during baking process.) Test with straw for doneness. If bottom of cake seems too moist, then remove pan from water and place directly on rack for 30 to 45 minutes. Remove from oven, cool, then invert to remove from pan(s). If cake doesn't come out of pan, run a long knife around the sides and the center post and turn upside down for awhile.
Wrap in cheesecloth that has been soaked in brandy or rum. Place slices of a large Delicious apple on top of the cake. Wrap the whole thing in aluminum foil and store it for awhile.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
VALERIE S. MALMONT grew up on Okinawa, Japan, studied anthropology at the University of New Mexico, and library science at the University of Washington. She now lives in Chambersburg, Pennsylvania.
Published by
Dell Publishing
a division of
Random House, Inc.
1540 Broadway
New York, New York 10036
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or
are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or
dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © 2000 by Valerie S. Malmont
All rights reserved. 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 the written
permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
For information address: Dell Books.
Dell® is a registered trademark of Random House, Inc.,
and the colophon is a registered trademark of
Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-307-48366-9
November 2000
v3.0
Death, Snow, and Mistletoe Page 27
