by Pat Amsden
Half the final score comes from votes, half from the judges scores. Results can and have been skewed in the past by vote buying from admirers or determined patrons and since the whole point of this is to raise money for charity we have no problem with this!”
There was laughter and applause from the assembled crowd. But even as Maxine went through the entries and made her decision as to who the winners were she was aware of a feeling of unease in the air today. A feeling something sinister was afoot.
“You can’t help but wonder what’s going to happen,” next she heard one of the Sheppherd sisters say.
“You’re making too much of it. Zaks’ death was an unfortunate accident and the rest is probably the work of some pranksters,” Rosa’s husband said firmly.
“All I know is we’re locking our door firmly at night and I’m not letting Scotty out in the yard unless I’m there to watch him.”
Maxine’s ears perked up at that. Heather had promised to ask around and see if she could find any other dogs that had been dognapped. But there hadn’t been an opportunity to yesterday. Rose Shepherd sounded as if she’d heard something about dognappings and since she wasn’t a friend of Wendy, it didn’t seem likely to have come from her.
Her attention was brought back to judging when Mr. Melcher, the Art Gallery Director asked if she’d made her final decisions yet.
“I have,” she said smiling at him.
“Good,” he said. “Then if I can have your ballots along with your fellow judges I can tally the votes and announce the winners.
She dropped her results into the box she gave him along with Russ Bertrand and Henri Beauchamp. She smiled at them. “Really, everyone who participates is a winner,” she said.
“Sacrilege,” snapped Henri. “We need standards. Otherwise there is no way of measuring ones’ ability against anothers.”
Russ gave them both a lazy smile. “But is it really about the competition? I think it’s more of a chance for everyone to get together and use their creativity to come up with something they think is good.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders, “often what’s best is in the eye of the beholder.”
Henri shuddered. “This, this is what has led to the destruction of standards. A restaurant can serve anything these days and all the chef has to say is ‘this is my interpretation of how such food is to be prepared. And the result….” He shuddered once more, “some truly horrendous dishes that should never have seen the light of day, let alone hapless diners.”
Maxine laughed. “I know for a fact that the food served in either of your restaurants is amazing and diners will be lucky to enjoy it. And while I believe there are times, Henri,” she said, smiling sweetly at him, “when strict standards are important. There are others,” here she looked at Russ and smiled, “where a more relaxed approach needs to be taken. And this would be one of those times, in my opinion,” she said, smiling to take any sting out of her words.
“I suppose,” Henri said sounding not at all convinced. He scowled at the crowd. “There have been more than enough accidents and upsets lately. It’s bad for business. Have the police done anything about the desecration of your display and AZK developers?”
“They’re looking into it,” she said smoothly. “After all it only happened yesterday.”
“Perhaps but it certainly seems to be connected with AZK Developments. And Jake Jones is right in the center of that. Have they talked to him yet?”
“Protesting isn’t against the law,” she protested feebly. But she had to admit she felt the police should be doing something with Jake Jones.
“Exactly what?” Patrick had growled earlier, his brows drawn together in frustration. “As far as I know the man hasn’t broken any laws. More to the point maybe you should stay away from people when you know it might cause problems.”
She bristled at that. “I took some cold, hungry, people hot coffee and cookies. I was trying to show some humanity.”
“Uh huh,” Patrick said, disbelief dripping from his voice as two spots of bright red on cheeks flared on her cheeks, betraying her anger.
“And the next thing I know, I’m attacked, my shop’s display has been vandalized and AZK’s entry has been spray painted with a warning to ‘stay off our land.’ Short of handing you a signed confession I’d say the evidence is pretty clear.”
“Don’t worry,” Patrick said. “I’ve talked to Mr. Jones myself. But unless there’s evidence I’m unaware of there’s nothing to show him anywhere near the art gallery last night. In fact he was at a fund raiser some of his followers put on.” He surveyed the crowded gallery. “All I’m saying is you need to be careful.”
“That goes without saying,” she said. She smiled at him, “I’m not planning on taking any unnecessary chances. And I’ll be practicing the self-defense moves you gave me every chance I get. So, are we good?”
“For now,” he said. He gave her a teasing smile, “want some help practicing tonight?”
She laughed then and gave him a light kiss on the cheek. “Come over later and I’ll feed you dinner, then we’ll see.”
Something to look forward to she thought now, as Mr. Melcher addressed the assembled crowd. “The judges have made their decisions. In the case of the winning entry I’m happy to say the judges’ results were unanimous. Forest Designs have proved they are as good at decorating and building haunted houses as they are real.” Laughter and the sounds of handclapping indicated the crowd’s approval.
“However,” he continued, “we all know votes can and do change the results. In this case Dent, Rogers and Hand have won the over-all contest. There was some mild booing. “And in doing so have contributed a healthy amount to the overall funds raised of $20, 172 dollars!” And with that amount there was unrestrained applause and cheers from everyone attending
As for the children’s’ competition the award went to Ryan Groves, a grade five student whose haunted house could’ve graced the cover of Architectural Digest. Even as Maxine handed him the trophy which consisted of a small haunted house she couldn’t help wondering how much had been done by Ryan and how much by his parents. She wasn’t going to say anything though.
She noted that the other contestants didn’t seem to care, happy to get a ribbon. She was more than happy to pin a ribbon on David, Susan, Reggie and the forty something children who had participated. In fact she wanted to grab them all in her arms and hug them. But she was aware that most of them would regard her with concern should she do so. And many of the small boys considered themselves beyond such things as hugs. Except maybe from their moms when no one was watching.
Chapter Ten
The last person Maxine expected to see in her shop was Jake Jones scowling at her as she took around a plate of samples for a new chocolate they were thinking of putting into production, caramel apple cream. So far it was drawing mixed results.
Although she’d been in the corner of the shop when he walked in it felt as if his eyes were burning laser holes into her back. She shuddered slightly. Now, who was letting their imagination get the best of her? She turned to face him, defiantly, aware all eyes in the crowded shop were on them, waiting to see what would happen next.
She gave a quick head toss and squared her shoulders slightly before heading back to the counter. “Can I help you?” she asked sweetly.
“You can call off your dog,” he ground out. Anger emanating from him in waves, turned him into an angry caricature of himself, features twisted and ugly.
Her eye brow arched in question. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh come off it. Your boyfriend has already questioned me twice. I’ve been pulled over by the police and I’m not the only one. Every single protestor with me has been pulled over. One of them got a ticket for littering. Littering!” he thundered.
She gave a small shrug. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this. I don’t have any control over what the police do.”
“Cut the crap,” he said angrily. “I had nothing to do
with what happened at the Art Gallery.”
“Then I’m sure you have nothing to worry about Mr. Jones. The police have questioned you, you’ve told them the truth,” here she smiled sardonically. “I really don’t see what the problem is.
His eyes narrowed and his answer hissed out. “You know exactly what’s going on. Harassing my followers helps no one.”
“And as I said, I don’t have anything to do with who the police do or don’t question,” she said firmly. “I can’t help you.”
“OK, you wanted to know more about what I was doing, give me a chance to show you.”
Her heart thudded with excitement but she did her best not to show it. “What do you mean?”
“Come with me and I’ll show you why we want this development stopped.” Passion darkened his eyes.
“You really expect me to drop everything and go somewhere alone with you?”
“Bring whoever you want to,” he said passionately. “I have nothing to hide.”
“OK,” she said. “But I’m a little busy right now.”
“I can come back after you’re closed,” he said immediately.
“And you want me to tromp around in the dark somewhere with you?” Disbelief colored her tone.
“I want you to give me a chance to tell you my side. I think when you realize what we’re fighting against you’ll agree.”
Something she seriously doubted but she wasn’t going to tell him so. Instead she gave him a short nod. “I’ll be here. But I won’t be alone.”
He smiled, his features softening. “I’d expect nothing less. I look forward to it.” He turned, exiting as quickly as he’d come and there was the sound of a good dozen drawn breaths being released, hers included.
“You’re going to tell Patrick aren’t you?” Jane asked her pointedly as Mr. Jake Jones exited the shop.
“Of course,” she said, more than a little distracted as she re-arranged the display of chocolates at the front counter.
“If you don’t I will,” Jane said pointedly.
At least she was speaking in a low tone so that only Maxine could hear her. While no one had made any comments to Maxine directly she knew they’d all been watching and as the rising buzz of conversation indicated, were now talking. She didn’t want to add fuel to the fire.
Heath was just as determined. “He’s on the cop’s radar for a reason. Don’t mess around.”
But Patrick wanted her to stay as far away from Jake Jones as possible. And Maxine had never liked being told what to do. So she decided to meet with Jake Jones in her shop after it was closed. After all, what could go wrong?
She told herself that as she waited for him, having sent home all her staff. A fresh pot of coffee curled its’ aromatic smell of a rich, dark roast mixed with a hint of chocolate and a tinge of raspberry, through the air.
The smell of the heady brew took the edge of her nerves but didn’t entirely make them disappear. Nerves weren’t necessarily a bad thing.
After all it didn’t hurt to be on guard. And whatever else happened, she had no intention of leaving this shop with Jake Jones tonight.
She looked at her iPhone again. She’d downloaded an app today to record everything while they met. Now she put a plate of the brookies he’d enjoyed the other day out.
She pictured Patrick rolling his eyes. “You can’t solve everything with chocolate Maxine.”
Maybe not, but it didn’t hurt to try. She hadn’t told Grandma Ellie what she was up to. Only that she was meeting with a friend tonight after the shop closed and wouldn’t be home until a little later.
She could hear him at the door. A shiver of fear passed through her as she opened it. He stood before her, a small smile on his face and a briefcase in his hand. Six feet four, with a well-muscled physique that a leather jacket, t-shirt stretched tight across his chest and jeans that fit as if they had been poured on, did nothing to hide.
“Are you going to invite me in,” he said. “Or are you afraid I’ll bite?”
She stood aside to let him pass.
“What? You trust me enough to meet me on your own?”
“A short meeting,” she said sharply. “To hear what you have to say. My friends think I should stay well away from and leave it to the police.”
“And yet here we are.”
“As I said,” she said sharply. “I wanted to hear your side and I had a feeling something might be lost if you were talking to the police.”
“I appreciate that,” he said quietly. “I give you my word, you will be safe with me.” As he said it she felt as if there was a wave of peace emanating from him.
“I thought we could talk about it here,” she said gesturing to a table with a coffee pot already set out waiting, along with a plate of brookies.
“OK, but I may need more space to show you all my maps.”
“Tell me first,” she said.
He gave her a quizzical look. Then, as if making a decision, he sighed. “OK, then, I’ll give you the condensed version and we’ll go from there.”
He sat down at the table. “My people have lived on these lands since long before the white men arrived. We had a culture of story tellers, of hunters and fishers. Brave men, warriors. But times have changed. We have had to learn the white men’s ways, to adapt. Some of us have done this by turning away from our culture, some by embracing it.
Until recently I was one of the former. I couldn’t wait to get away from here and go to university. I wanted to help people but not just Indians. And if I got paid well in the process then all the better. My brother Matt took over the role of Chief and native leader.
It was what he wanted, what I wanted. I barely came home to visit. But then my mother got cancer, my favorite uncle had a blood disease. It seemed so unfair.” He looked at her, his eyes slate-green mixed with flecks of copper and filled with passion. “I started taking courses on biology, on the human body but still I turned away from traditional Indian healing….”
His eyes filled with tears. Despite herself, Maxine felt moved. “I still don’t see-“
“I kept studying modern medicine. It’s done miracles for many people. I still want to be a doctor.” He looked at her with an intensity she found unnerving. “But more and more I realize it’s not the whole answer. I’ve come back to participate in healing circles with my mother, gone through a healing ceremony with my uncle. And for the last two summers I’ve been studying native plants, first in the Amazon and this year in North America. We’ve only begun to scratch the surface of what we’ve got, of what still waits to be discovered.”
Maxine could see why he had people willing to follow him blindly. She could also picture Tanya’s tear-stained face, see the damage that had been done at the museum. Without thinking her hand moved to the bump on her head, still giving her headaches.
“That’s all good,” she said. “But why now, why AZK Developments?”
“If I’d realized there was even a consideration they’d be developing there I’d have been home far sooner,” he said passionately. “But I believed my brother cared as much about our people and the environment as I do.”
“And now you’ve got reason to believe he doesn’t?”
“The proof is there for everyone to see,” he said bitterly. “He’s sold out to the developers.”
Maxine shook her head. “You may believe that Mr. Jones. On some level you may even be right. But the development was done legally with an environmental assessment, land use and building permits. You can’t expect them to stop it now, get rid of the houses already built.”
He looked at her with a burning intensity she found unnerving. “I’ll leave the houses there alone. But I’ll stop any further development.”
She shook her head. “I don’t see how. They’ve got all the legal-“
“I’ll prove my brother took bribes from AZK developments, I’ll show why this development is wrong. For my people, for yours. It should never have happened.”
She shook her head.
“You’re delusional.”
“And I’m right. In your heart of hearts you know that. If you want me to show you what I’m talking about call this number.” He tossed a business card on the table. “Right now I think we’ve covered as much ground as possible tonight. I’ll wait for your call. Just don’t take too long.”
He left leaving more questions than answers.
Chapter Eleven
In the real world figuring out who dunnit was sometimes a lot harder than the average cozy. Maxine would have sworn Jake Jones was the perfect villain. Now she wasn’t so sure. Where did the brother fit in? And what did Tanya know?
She invited herself over to Tanya’s’ who was in a blue funk. Her tiny, and Maxine did mean tiny, apartment had clothes swirled on the floor, dirty dishes on the counter and an unmade bed. Perhaps more alarmingly, Maxine could see an empty bottle of vodka. Tanya herself was listless and down.
“I’ll clean it up in a bit,” she’d said waving away Maxine’s efforts. “I just, I need some time,” she said blue eyes filled with tears.
“This is nuts,” Maxine said. “You’re my friend and you need help. You can stay with me for a few days.” Rail thin, Maxine could feel her bones, sharp beneath the thin top Tanya wore, and it scared her.
But Tanya only cried harder. “You don’t have to help me. I can look after myself.”
“Usually that’s true,” Maxine said, her own eyes filling with tears. “But everyone needs a friend sometimes. And I’m not leaving you here alone.”
She left the clothes on the floor and went to Tanya’s walk-in closet.
Leave it to Tanya she thought, to find the one bachelor in the city the size of a shoe box, but with its’ own walk-in closet. If Maxine hadn’t seen it for herself she wouldn’t have known it existed.
Now she quickly pulled jeans and an assortment of sweaters and shirts from the racks along with some flats and one pair of black heels. She couldn’t see Tanya needing anything too fancy for the next week but Tanya had been known to surprise her before. Her hand reached out, grabbing a simple, yet elegant black dress from the racks. Done.
