Before I could even look up to see my attacker I had the drill slapped from my hand. The next thing I knew I was being flung back into the chair and the cuff dangling from my free wrist was being fastened to the opposite arm of the dental chair. I looked up into the face of Dr. Bester, who was once more leaning over me, and found that he didn’t look so well. He seemed kind of woozy and unsteady on his feet. In addition, there was blood leaking from his mouth and he had a large knot sticking out of his forehead just above his right eye. I struggled to free myself but it was no use, I was held fast by the two pairs of handcuffs.
“I really wish you hadn’t done that, Ms. Boston,” the dentist said, gingerly surveying his forehead and chin with his fingertips.
“You murdered Margie,” I accused.
“It was an accident.”
“And was it an accident that her body ended up in your closet.”
“I can explain.”
“So can I.”
“Would you please shut up and let me explain!” Dr. Bester howled.
I shut my trap. I had no idea what the dentist was going to say, but whatever it was I was pretty sure that he was about to lay a whopper on me. He took a moment to compose himself before he started to speak.
“I was never going to hurt you, I just wanted you to stay seated and listen.”
I grudgingly gave him what he wanted by remaining silent.
“I had no great interest in Margie but it was obvious from the day I first hired her that she was interested in me. She kept dropping hints which I kept brushing aside. Finally, I asked her out one night for drinks—just the one time. I was going to tell her that the two of us were never going to be an item. I must have had too much to drink. Anyway, the thing is that rather than telling her to lay off we ended up sleeping together.”
I would have slapped his face if I’d had a free hand. By the look on his face I could tell that he recognized this fact through my tense expression.
“I know it was a mistake. But it was only the one time. Anyway, she ends up getting pregnant and claims the baby is mine from that one time. I called her a liar and we had a big row. Afterward, when I’d cooled off, I apologized. I offered to pay for the abortion but we ended up having another fight. She insisted that I marry her instead and I refused. This was just today, in this very office. Anyway, we got in a scuffle and she fell. She must have hit her head on something because she didn’t get back up. I didn’t know what to do.”
“So you hid her body in the closet?”
“Yes, just to buy some time so I could think. But then there was Mrs. Snelling and then you. I never got a chance to think.”
“Or to dispose of the body.”
The doctor stopped talking and looked me straight in the eyes.
“You’ve got a smart mouth considering your current situation,” he observed.
He was right. My words had done nothing to aid me in getting me out of this sticky situation. I stopped talking and let my head clear as I tried to think of something useful to say. All I came up with was, “And now it’s time for you to go to jail, you scumbag.” Realizing that wouldn’t help either, I opted to remain silent.
Just then as I lay waiting for what was to come next, I heard the sound of someone entering the waiting room out front. I needed no second prompting for my vocal cords to spring into action.
“Help! Somebody help me!” I screamed.
But that was all I screamed before Dr. Bester clasped a hand firmly over my mouth. I bit down hard with my teeth and just managed to catch a portion of his palm.
“Ow!” Dr. Bester screamed, pulling his hand free from out of my teeth.
I was prepared to scream again when this time the doctor clasped both hands around my throat and started to squeeze. I tried to force my breath out of my lungs but found that it was halted just short of my voice box. I thrashed, kicking my feet, and managed to kick over the dentist’s tray of tools which clattered to the floor. I heard barking coming from outside the door as Blue threw her full weight against it, rocking the thing on its hinges. Next Blue started to scratch and claw, but that eventually came to an end.
I was beginning to see stars and was afraid that I might black out when someone opened the door.
“Is everything alright in here?” Dale Gordon asked, poking his head into the room.
When he saw me being strangled by the dentist he must surely have known that everything most definitely was not alright in the room, but still he hesitated. This being Gordon, I didn’t expect quality decision making; but to be kind, perhaps he thought the dentist was involved in a particularly rough procedure or trying to retrieve a tool he’d accidentally dropped down my throat. Whatever his reasons, I failed to see him act before losing consciousness.
I was eventually woken by a pair of strong hands shaking me quite violently. Of course, it was Gordon. I was still handcuffed to the chair so I missed a golden opportunity to punch him in the nose. And considering my current state I doubt he could have successfully pressed charges against me.
“Boston, are you alright?” Gordon asked, looking with concern into my blurry eyes.
“Dr. Bester, where is he?” I mumbled anxiously using dental patient speak.
“No, don’t worry. Blue is fine. Your dog is out in the waiting room.”
Looking over to the closet, I saw a pair of investigators attending to Margie’s body and assumed that everything was alright.
“Would you please undo these stupid handcuffs?” I pleaded.
“Yeah sure, the Chief is on his way here right now. But while we’re waiting, why don’t I do something about those handcuffs. I found the key in Dr. Bester’s pocket before he was taken away.”
I waited patiently for Gordon to uncuff me and then help me rise from the chair. Looking back, I was pretty sure that I would never be able to sit in a dentist chair again. Then I remembered that my tooth had never been crowned and felt the Novocain was beginning to wear off.
“Officer Gordon, could we see you in the other room for a moment,” one of the investigators asked.
“Yeah, sure,” Gordon turned to say, and then he turned back to address me. “Are you going to be alright?”
“Go,” I said, managing to make myself understood through the use of the monosyllable.
Gordon started to walk away but then turned back one last time before leaving the office.
“By the way, merry Christmas, Boston. Looks like you got the best Christmas present ever, the opportunity to see another new year.”
In the end my day was truly made when Dale Gordon left the room and Blue entered it to come give me a kiss on the face.
A Christmas Without Carol
Blue.
My Aunt Carol was dead, to begin with. Nothing else could have convinced me to spend my Christmas Eve driving into the mountains to spend Christmas Day with my Uncle Albert. You see, Uncle Albert was a notorious humbug when it came to Christmas, he always had been and most likely always would be. I could see no reason to ruin my holiday trying to bring joy to the joyless.
“This will be the first Christmas that my brother Albert will spend without Carol,” my mother had argued. “I’m determined that he will spend it with family.”
And so Alex and I were drafted to be part of the family assigned to getting Uncle Albert through his first Christmas alone. Alex had even been so unlucky as to win the honor of driving, owing to the fact that he owned the nicest car.
Don’t get me wrong, I had great sympathy for Uncle Albert’s plight. He and his wife had been very close, Carol being his best and possibly only friend. And Aunt Carol had been a very sweet lady. I had memories from my early years of spending time with Aunt Carol, helping her to bake cookies in the kitchen while Uncle Albert worked out in his shed out back. You see, Uncle Albert was never particularly fond of kids and having me around only tended to make him nervous and upset.
Aunt Carol’s passing had not been an easy one. After several months spent suffering from c
olon cancer she had ultimately succumbed to the debilitating disease one night while Uncle Albert held her hand. I heard of this afterward from a visiting nurse since my uncle refused to say a word about her death. Though it didn’t seem possible, Uncle Albert had become even more morose and withdrawn after Aunt Carol was gone. He now seemed to do nothing but work and even argued that we should stay away for Christmas because he might be out working on a plumbing job. But my mother had insisted and she can be as stubborn as a pit bull worrying at a bone when she gets a plan in mind.
“So, remind me one more time why we’re spending our Christmas with a man who would rather we didn’t come and would even more rather that Christmas was never invented?” I asked, turning in my seat to address my mother.
“You know perfectly well why we’re doing this, Ms. Chloe Boston,” my mother replied. I always knew that I was in trouble when she used my full name. “We’re Albert’s family and this is what family does when one of its members is in trouble.”
“And what trouble is Uncle Albert in exactly? He seems perfectly happy working and keeping the holiday in his own way.”
“But he doesn’t keep the holiday, that’s the point. So, we’re showing up on his doorstep for Christmas to save his immortal soul before it’s too late. You should view it as your good deed for the season. Don’t you agree, Henry?”
“Don’t get me involved,” my father replied, “I’m just along for the ride.”
I spun back around in my seat and rolled my eyes at Alex. He smiled back at me goodheartedly.
“Well, all I have to say is that I’m not going to let Uncle Albert ruin my Christmas. I’m going to have a jolly holiday with or without him,” I concluded.
We rode the rest of the way to my uncle’s home in silence. At least the scenery was pretty along the way. The first snow of the season lay heavy on the ground and the drifts beside the road grew larger the higher we climbed into the mountains. The sky was clear blue and the tall pines a verdant green. I breathed a sigh of contentment as I leaned my forehead against the glass of the window and watched the Christmassy landscape pass by.
I felt the joy drain from my life as we pulled up in front of Uncle Albert’s home. The place was small but had been cozy and warm while Carol lived in it. Now it only looked old and in need of repairs and a new coat of paint. We climbed out of the car and gathered our Christmas gifts from the trunk, such as they were. I’d brought a Christmas wreath and had baked some pies for Christmas dinner which Uncle Albert had been ordered to prepare. My mother had brought a mystery gift in an old beat-up cardboard box. She refused to reveal the contents of the box and so far my attempts at detecting its contents had proven futile.
Uncle Albert did not come to greet us. I shared Merry Christmas wishes with a group of kids who were playing in the next-door yard. They stopped playing and watched in solemn wonderment as we walked to the front door of my uncle’s home. It felt almost as if they were watching a funeral procession pass.
Uncle Albert opened the door after we knocked a second time.
“Oh, it’s you,” was his greeting. “I suppose you should come in.”
Uncle Albert stepped outside to make room for us to pass through his door with our burdens. He made no attempt to help. My mother gave him a hug and a peck on the cheek as she passed. My father shifted the cardboard box he was carrying and shook Albert’s hand though I knew he was sure that Albert had never liked him. I introduced Alex who was carrying the pies and the two nodded their heads to one another. Albert noticed the kids playing out front when he was about to follow us inside and close the door.
“You children git now!” he hollered.
The children, who had continued to watch us in wonder, scattered like the four winds. I had the sense that this wasn’t the first time my uncle had had words for them. Uncle Albert then followed us inside where we all stood in the living room wondering what to do. There were no Christmas decorations in sight, definitely no tree, and the house was cold.
“Go ahead and unburden yourself and have a seat,” Uncle Albert said.
“Here, Uncle Albert, I brought you a wreath,” I said, extending the Christmas wreath to him.
My uncle refused to accept the gift. In fact, he looked like he thought the thing was made of poison ivy.
“What am I supposed to do with that?” he asked.
“Hang it on your door, silly,” I replied. “Here, I even brought you a door hanger.”
Still my uncle refused to accept the gift.
“I know, I’ll hang it for you,” I suggested to break the uncomfortable stalemate.
Opening the front door, I slipped the hanger over the top of the door and hung the wreath on it. I noticed that the children who had once more gathered out front watched me suspiciously. I waved before closing the door and returning to the living room. Everyone was seated with their hands clasped in their laps, except for Uncle Albert who stood glaring down at them.
“So, how are your preparations for Christmas dinner coming along?” my mother asked to break the awkward silence.
“I’m thawing the bird. I have plenty of food—no one should starve. Cost me a pretty penny, all that food did. I’m pretty sure the local market raises their prices just for the holidays. I have half a mind to get some of my money back from the crook that runs the place.”
“Well, isn’t that interesting,” my mother said in order to put an end to the tirade that was surely brewing.
“We brought pies,” Alex said and it was only then that I noticed he was still holding the pies.
“I’ll take those to the kitchen,” Albert said, relieving Alex of the burden. “Besides, I have to call the shop. I left Bob, my assistant, in charge of the place today, but he’s always falling asleep on the job. I’ll need to wake him up and tell him it’s time to close up shop and go home.”
Albert started to leave but turned back for one last word.
“I’m telling you, it’s hard to find good help these days.”
And with that he was gone. I made strained faces and pretended to tear my hair out and chew my fingernails while Albert was gone. Eventually he returned to stand once more in the corner.
“Well now, Lucy, would you like to give Albert your present?” my father asked, picking the box up from the floor beside the sofa where he’d laid it.
“Yes, let him open his present,” I said with interest. “I’ve been wondering what this could be since I first saw it.”
“You didn’t have to bring me a present,” Albert said. “I didn’t get you anything.”
“But I wanted to, Albert. Besides, I think you’re going to like it.”
“But you didn’t have to is all I’m saying.”
My father set the box on the coffee table and opened the lid. He then pulled out an 8-millimeter movie projector and several reels of film.
“Oh boy, home movies,” I exclaimed, clapping my hands and smiling broadly.
“What’s this?” Albert challenged.
“They’re movies from our youth,” my mother explained. “I thought that it might be fun reliving some of our old holidays and other good times past.”
“We can project the movies right here on this wall,” my father pointed out.
Dad then searched for a power outlet and plugged in the projector. He attached a reel of film to the projector and fed it through the machine to the take-up reel. He then turned off the only light, plunging the room into darkness.
“Don’t stand around being so stiff and formal, Albert,” my mother scolded. “Here, have a seat next to me,” she added, patting the sofa cushion beside her.
Albert grudgingly took a seat beside his sister and she placed an arm across his shoulders. Dad turned on the projector and the film began clicking as it played.
The film started with scenes of a baby in a stroller being pushed by a little girl.
“Who’s that, Mom?” I asked.
“That’s me pushing Albert in his stroller,” my mother replied.<
br />
I couldn’t believe that my mother had once been so young, and she was adorable too. The scene switched to my mother holding Albert in her arms. The fact that he looked like such a happy baby surprised me to no end. Next came pictures of my grandparents, who had passed away years ago, pushing Albert in a swing. Little Albert laughed the whole time and though there was no sound you could almost hear him calling to go higher. As the movie progressed the children grew older. They were shown on vacations where their car drove through a tunnel burrowed in a giant redwood, and hikes and swims abounded. Albert was shown in a Cub Scout uniform proudly holding a little plastic trophy he had received for winning the rocket derby. Christmases were seen when the kids couldn’t wait to tear into their presents. New bikes and skates appeared. Graduations were chronicled.
Looking away from the images, my eyes soon adjusted to the dark. I looked to Uncle Albert’s face and was surprised to see that he was smiling. Furthermore, if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a tear on his cheek just below the eye.
It wasn’t until their later life was chronicled that things went terribly wrong. The image appeared on the wall without warning and struck everybody in the room like a slap. There was Albert dressed for his high school prom with none other than Carol Cummings, my Aunt Carol, on his arm. Dad fumbled in the dark for the controls to the projector but it was too late, the damage was already done.
“This is silly, sitting in the dark watching movies from a time we’ll never see again,” Albert said, rising from his seat.
Dad eventually managed to turn off the projector. Alex reached over and flipped the light back on. Albert stood fuming and my mother had started to cry. Just then a phone rang in the back part of the house.
“Excuse me, I’ve been waiting for this call,” Albert said, wiping the tear from his cheek and stomping from the room.
Cornucopia (A Chloe Boston Mystery Book 16) Page 6
