“I don’t know why I care anyhow,” Lola blurted. She was apparently starting a conversation in the middle. Elsie and I stared back at her, baffled by her statement.
Lola glanced up and saw us looking at her expectantly. “I mean about Randall Dayton. Why should I care if he doesn’t call? He doesn’t live in the area, and he smells like tobacco.” She put the phone down. “That’s it. I’m done whining about him.”
“That’s good to hear,” I said, not totally convinced by her declaration.
Elsie stretched out some wax paper. “I don’t know why you’d be interested in some stranger when the most wonderful guy in the world works right across the street from you.”
Lola stared at her with pinched brows. “I adore Lester and his cool Hawaiian shirts, but he’s a little old for me.”
“Oh stop,” Elsie said. “You know very well I’m talking about Ryder.”
Elsie looked to me for back up. I shook my head to let her know I was staying clear of the topic.
“Ryder is a great guy,” Lola said as she climbed off the stool. “But I don’t think he’s my type.”
“And why not?” Elsie continued … unfortunately. “Too perfect?”
Lola waved off her comment. “Let’s get this party started. I want to drown my sorrows in melted chocolate.”
“Good idea,” I said. “I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to see you make the filling.”
I took a sniff. “Hmm, chocolate and whipped cream and vanilla,” I declared.
“Exactly right,” Elsie said. “And a bit of salt but I guess even your nose can’t smell that. I put large chunks of chocolate in the top of this double boiler. The water below heats up so the chocolate melts slowly. You have to be careful with chocolate. If it gets too hot, it separates and seizes up. Then it’s ruined. And you don’t want to get any water or moisture in it either. After the filling chocolate melted, I folded it into some unsweetened whipped cream. Then I refrigerated it and shaped it into balls. Now it’s time to coat them. Let me demonstrate.”
Elsie poured some of the melted chocolate from the top of the double boiler out on a clean spot on her counter. She raked the chocolate puddle back and forth with the edge of a spatula. Then she reached into a bowl of solid grated chocolate and sprinkled it on the melted puddle.
“Why are you doing that?” I asked.
“This is called tempering. Adding some cold chocolate will help make the coating shiny and even. Otherwise, it can look dull and get a waxy haze on it.” Elsie worked as she narrated. “I gently pick up a tiny ball of chocolate and roll it back and forth until its coated completely. You have to work fast so the center doesn’t get too mushy. Then I return it to its spot on the wax paper.” She swirled the melted chocolate once around the top to give the truffle a decorative finish.
“You make it look so easy,” I marveled. “But I’m ready.” I pushed back my sleeves to wash my hands.
“Me too,” Lola said.
Elsie handed us each a spoon with her clean hand. “First, I suggest you each take a spoonful of melted chocolate. It helps keep you from wanting to lick your fingers in the middle of coating the candy. Trust me. It’s a trick I taught myself years ago. That and always keep one hand clean because the second you coat both hands with chocolate, your nose will have a terrible itch.”
Lola and I turned to the pot with our spoons. I felt like a kid stealing a spoonful of cookie dough from my mom’s mixing bowl. We both closed our eyes for a second as we coated our tongues with rich, melted chocolate.
“That’s heaven,” Lola muttered. There was a bit of chocolate at each corner of her mouth as she smiled. “I’m glad you talked me into this.”
“I’m glad you came. After all, who needs men when there is melted chocolate, wine and good friends to enjoy.”
Chapter 20
I’d arrived home after truffle making more intoxicated on chocolate than on the wine. Even though I was a little bleary eyed from the long day and lightheaded from the sugar rush, I had made a firm decision to add more twinkling lights to my porch. My house had looked drab and dreary compared to Elsie’s winter wonderland.
Ryder had texted that he would open the shop because he had a few more details to add to the window. He insisted I take the morning off and with my chocolate hangover, I wasn’t about to argue the point. The free morning had given me time to search through my closet for my spare Christmas lights. Unfortunately, I hadn’t taken much care with them when I had yanked them off my city apartment balcony. I had to waste my precious time untangling them from a knotted ball.
I sat on the bench on my porch, working out the knots and watching Kingston take a much needed flight around the neighborhood. The poor bird really hated the winter months when the trees were more laden with snow and ice than leaves and edible treats.
While I worked, two cars sped along Myrtle Place, each filled to capacity with passengers. More out-of-towners intrigued by the murder-suicide in the big gothic mansion on the hill. I’d been so busy I hadn’t had time to think much about the startling information I’d discovered about the case. It seemed to me that there was no way Bertram Hawksworth had taken his own life. That meant someone else had shot him and then placed the gun in his right hand to make it look like a suicide. And that someone had most likely killed the rest of the family as well. It was not a murder-suicide. It was a murder. A cold, tragic murder and the officer who was first at the scene had figured that out himself before being sent off to a different precinct.
The sharp thwack of a hammer rang out. The sound ricocheted off the houses across the street and bounced back to my side. I put down the thread of lights and walked over to Dash’s house. Captain sat on the bottom step, his tail wagging in rhythm with the hammer as Dash pounded a piece of wood to the new porch overhang.
Dash reached for another nail and noticed his audience of one had doubled. “Howdy, neighbor,” he called down from the step ladder. He hopped off.
“I don’t want to stop you. I just came to watch a tradesman at work.”
He blew air from his lips. “Tradesman, I wish. I’ll just be happy if the thing is level and stays standing in a wind storm. What are you up to this morning?”
“Well, Elsie’s picture worthy holiday decorations made me feel ashamed. So I’m trying to add some more zip to my porch. Only I’m spending most of my time trying to unzip the lights from each other.”
Dash laughed. “Ah yes, the annual untangling of the holiday lights. I know it well. My dad used to get so frustrated, he’d just start hanging them up in knotted clusters. All you need is one of those Victorian kissing boughs like you made for Kate’s shop.”
“You saw that? So you were in her shop and under the kissing bough too?” I shouldn’t have been disappointed, but I was definitely feeling a hint of it.
“Next week is my sixteen-year-old niece’s birthday. I’m terrible at picking gifts for her. And my sister warned me no gift cards because they are too impersonal. Of course, she didn’t give me any good suggestions either, so I called Kate. She told me to come down to the shop, and we’d find something for her. We settled on a shiny pair of boots and a vintage denim jacket. I think Riley is going to love it.”
“I sure would if I was sixteen.” Suddenly Kate’s urgent need for the kissing bough was explained. She was expecting a visit from Dash. I looked up at him. “Did the mistletoe draped kissing bough work its magic while you were shopping?”
“If that’s your roundabout way of asking if I kissed Kate while I was there, then sorry to disappoint you. Your kissing bough isn’t as magical as you might think.”
I released a breath that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. Was I interested in Dash? Or was I not thrilled with the idea of Kate having him? Sometimes a woman’s mind was as tangled as a ball of Christmas lights.
Dash walked past me and picked up several planks of wood. He headed back with his load and stopped in front of me. “Just to be clear, Lacey, there’s nothing bet
ween Kate and me. She was just helping with a perfect gift.”
“That’s all right, Dash. It’s none of my business. I’m going to take my nosy nose and head back to my knotted ball of lights.” I turned and caught a whiff of the fresh lumber he was holding. “The woodsy smell,” I muttered.
“Yep, that’s because it’s wood.”
“No, I know. That’s it. That’s the smell I was trying to find. What kind of wood is it?”
“Douglas Fir. It’s the most popular wood for building lumber.” He pushed his nose close to it. “I don’t smell a thing.”
“No, it’s faint. But it’s there. Thank you for this.” I headed back toward my house.
“For what?” he called.
“For having lumber for me to smell.”
Chapter 21
My elation about recognizing the woodsy smell on Chad Ruxley’s sweater had waned a few minutes after my discovery. The odor had been so faint, and it had been long enough that I felt I needed to smell the sweater again just to be sure. And even then, I wasn’t sure how it would help solve the crime.
Kingston had decided to take a longer than anticipated journey around the neighborhood. I had to resort to standing on the front porch loudly eating peanuts to get his attention and lure him back to the house. The entire pet trick made me almost miss the window judging.
I jumped out of my car and raced into the shop. Ryder looked miffed about me being so late.
“I’m so sorry, Ryder.” I held up the container of truffles I packed for him. “Candy for you.” I placed the chocolates on the counter and continued with my apology. “Kingston wouldn’t come home, and I didn’t want to leave him out in this cold weather. I thought I was going to have to rub hardboiled eggs on my head to get him back into the house.”
Ryder opened the container and bit into a truffle. “Man, that’s delicious. Good ole, Kingston.” He smiled. My story and the peace offering of truffles had washed away any anger. “I miss that bird.” He walked over to the paper curtain. “I wanted you to see it before the judge walked by.”
I tossed my coat on the hook and joined him at the bay window. “Should I close my eyes?” I asked.
“Then how will you see it?”
“Good point.”
The paper ripped away. A marvelously sculpted set of snow loving animals, white birch polar bear, black sunflower seed penguins and an Arctic fox made of white rose petals played in a white carnation snow drift.
“Wow, Ryder, they look so animated.” I took a deep breath. “And they smell good. They are perfect. It’s perfect.” I gave him a quick hug.
“I’ve got to climb inside and pulled down the paper on the window pane. Go outside and see how it looks from the sidewalk.”
“Yes, I can’t wait.” I headed outside and immediately regretted peeling off my coat so fast. I hugged myself and did a little dance to keep warm as he tore away the paper.
“Well?” he called through the glass.
“It’s gorgeous.”
“It certainly is,” Lester said from behind. “Next time, I’m going to have Ryder decorate my window. Yolanda only spent one minute looking at mine. She’s writing some notes on her clipboard.” He added an eye roll to that. “And then she’s coming to your shop.”
Yolanda had enlisted the help of Franki’s son. I wasn’t sure which one because Tyler and Taylor were so identical, I couldn’t tell them apart. Especially when I only saw one. Franki’s twin daughters were easier to distinguish because they had different taste in clothing and different hairstyles, but that wasn’t the case with her boys. Taylor or Tyler was carrying a small trophy and a blue ribbon.
Yolanda reached my shop window.
“How is everything going, Yolanda?”
She groaned as her shoulders fell. “Things would be a lot better if people didn’t keep getting killed during my planned events. I put all this time and effort into making things perfect.”
“Yes, I know you do. And you do an incredible job.”
“Thank you. But what’s the use of turning the town into a storybook Christmas town when a man is just going to end up dead in the middle of it all. Not that I’m blaming him. Poor man.” She blew out a frustrated breath. “Anyhow, let’s see what you have.” She walked up to the window to get a better look. “Oh my goodness, this is adorable. You outdid yourself, Lacey.”
“Yes I did. I hired an incredible assistant. Ryder did this all on his own.”
My innocent confession caused her mouth to purse together in disapproval. Ryder was watching anxiously through the window to gauge Yolanda’s reaction. I showed him a thumbs up to let him know she loved it, even though I was sure my big mouth had just cost him the trophy.
I let Yolanda do her judge thing and stepped back with Lester, who was chatting with Franki’s son. Instantly, my sense of smell was overwhelmed with the pungent, menthol smell of sore muscle cream.
“Tyler,” I said, happily. “You’re Tyler,” I repeated.
Lester laughed. “He probably already knows that.”
“Yes, of course. I was eating at the diner when you called your mom about your injury at practice. She told you to put on the sports cream. Now I can tell you apart from your brother.”
“Never thought of that,” Tyler said. “But I’m not sure how much longer I can stand the stuff. It’s giving me a headache more than it’s helping my pulled muscle.”
“I’m still excited that I could tell you two apart this morning.”
Yolanda wrote something down on her clipboard. “Come, Tyler. Let’s walk over to Elsie’s shop.”
They hurried on to the next window. Lester walked up next to me. He waved into the window at Ryder.
“Did you get any good vibes from her?” Lester asked.
I kept smiling as I spoke because Ryder was watching. “I think I just blew our chances of winning by being too darn honest. And now I have to tell Ryder.”
Lester chuckled. “Yeah, that honesty stuff can sometimes get you in the end. I guess I’ll get back to brewing coffee and leave window decorating events to people like my sister.”
“Have a good day, Les.”
Chapter 22
I was glad that I’d at least brought truffles to brighten Ryder’s otherwise dismal mood. I had warned him that I’d probably taken us out of the running by letting Yolanda know that I’d had no part in the genius and talent behind our window display. I wanted to make sure Ryder got all the credit. I hadn’t expected Yolanda to be quite so petty. But I took a lot of photos of the display and posted them on the shop’s website so everyone could see it and so that the memory of the amazing display would still be fresh long after the petals and flowers wilted away.
Elsie had also missed out on the trophy, which hadn’t surprised me too much because I’d always noticed a hint of tension between Yolanda and Elsie. I often wondered if it stemmed from them both being filled with non-stop energy. There might just have been a touch of competition between them to see who could out-dynamo the other.
And after the entire drama and angst of the window competition, the person who won was sitting behind her computer at her desk in the back office not even wearing a proud smile.
Lola looked up as I walked in.
“Congratulations on the blue ribbon.” I sat on the rustic old farm bench in front of her desk.
“Yeah, I don’t know what Yolanda was thinking. All I did was dust off a bunch of old toys and arrange them in the window.”
I reached into the crystal candy dish at the front of her desk and took out a peppermint. “Not true. There is something about the toys you chose and the way you positioned them that makes them seem as if they were taken right out of a Victorian Christmas card.” As I gushed on about her window, she continued clicking away on her keyboard and staring intently at the screen.
“Why, thank you, Pink, what a nice thing to say,” I said in my best imitation of Lola.
Her brown eyes peered over the top of the computer. “Sorry, I wa
s just looking something up.”
I unwrapped the peppermint. “Let me guess, Dayton Construction and its illustrious owner?” I popped the mint into my mouth, and as predicted, a sneeze followed. I’d never figured out why peppermint made me sneeze.
“Gesundheit,” Lola said absently. “Apparently Dayton Construction is only a couple years old. They are based in a town called Rowley, which is about a hundred miles from here.” That piece of information made her slim shoulders sag. I had hoped it wouldn’t be the case, but my friend still seemed to be obsessing about Randall Dayton. It made me wish we had never walked into Franki’s Diner that day.
“A hundred miles is not exactly a day trip.” My rational comment earned a disgruntled snort.
Lola’s chair creaked as she sat forward. “Wow, the stuff you find when you’re snooping around into someone’s life. There’s a company called Big Bob Construction that keeps coming up with Dayton Construction. It seems Big Bob was owned by Robert Dayton, Randall’s father.”
She quickly typed something into the search bar.
“I guess I’ll go and leave you to your research. I just wanted to congratulate you on your win.”
Before I stood up, she raised her hand to stop me from going. “It says that Bob Dayton lost his contractor’s license and his company went bankrupt after he was cited for at least a dozen safety violations.” Her finger reached toward the screen as her eyes darted back and forth. “Oh, that’s sad.” She sat back with a frown. “It seems the whole fiasco drove Big Bob to suicide.”
I got up from the chair. “It sounds like Randall comes with a lot of baggage. Something you are better off without.” I wasn’t going to play the supportive friend with this guy. I hadn’t even bothered to mention to her what Dash had told me after his interview with Dayton. I was relieved he wouldn’t be in the area for long. “I’m heading back to my store. Catch you later.”
I was just about out of her office when she called to me. “Hey, Pink?”
Mistletoe and Mayhem (Port Danby Cozy Mystery Book 3) Page 10
