The Christmas Contest
By
Victoria Benchley
Copyright
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form without prior written consent of the copyright holder. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is entirely coincidental. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Although some locations and businesses named may be real, any events involving them are fictional.
Copyright © 2015 by Victoria Benchley
Table of Contents
-1- A Woman Scorned
-2- Is Any Publicity Really Good Publicity?
-3- Another Reunion
-4- Gingerbread Husbands
-5- Dinner Is A Crime
-6- The Baking Contest
-7- Yet Another Contest
-8- Christmas
-9- It All Begins with a Recipe
-10- A King & Queen Crowned
-11- A Clue from MacNicholas
-12- The Real Contest
-13- Explanations & Reconciliation
-14- Hogmanay and Its Meanings
-1-
A Woman Scorned
Angela's heels clacked on the pavement. Through the rehabilitation center's glass doors she could see Duncan waiting in his wheelchair. His faithful attendant, Jerry, hovered behind the investigator.
She'd taken great care with her attire this morning, donning the lavender knit dress she knew amplified the unusual color of her eyes and flattered her figure in all the right places. Clear skies, remarkable for this time of year, meant she needed no umbrella or bulky overcoat. Nude heels, with a small platform, showed off her shapely legs.
Duncan took in the details of his approaching girlfriend's appearance. Angela made him want to leap from his seat. He didn't require a wheelchair, but the clinic's policy demanded he be pushed from the facility. He still limped, but he'd worked hard in rehab, focusing on his future, and had recovered faster than anyone thought possible.
Angela tried to make it to Edinburgh every other weekend to encourage Duncan and keep him company. She stayed with the family, but the Dewars made themselves scarce at the therapy center when she visited, giving the couple time to be alone. He extracted a promise from the lass that when he was released from rehabilitation, she would greet him and take him home. He hadn't seen her in three weeks and couldn't wait to hold her in his arms, away from the hospital.
As she drew closer to the doors, his grin grew by degrees until the muscles in his cheeks ached. She had almost reached the entrance when he noted a startled look on her face, then a crowd rushed between them and blocked his view.
Storming through the sliding doors, a noisy group of a dozen people charged towards him. Bright lights from flashing cameras went off, producing temporary blindness. Confused, the investigator had no idea what was happening.
"Here he is, boys. The hero of the UK," a vaguely familiar female voice rose above the din.
"How does it feel to find redemption?"
"When did the two of you get back together?"
"How do you plan to spend the reward money?"
"Have you had any contact with Caroline Menzies?"
"How did you keep your relationship hidden from the public?"
Questions fired like bullets from an automatic weapon at Duncan, who remained blinded from the brilliant bursts of light.
"Now, now. Can't you see he's tired? Pictures only, boys. That's what we agreed upon," the female voice said.
He turned his head to see who was orchestrating this gang of what he now understood to be reporters. As his pupils dilated and his vision returned, he saw who spoke. There, dressed in a strapless, dark brown leather bustier with matching skirt and spike-heeled boots, towered Cassandra Baines. Her platform stilettos raised her to well over one and a half meters, giving her a height advantage. The former model stepped next to Duncan, bent at the waist, and planted a kiss on the investigator's cheek, angling herself to the cameras, allowing the photographers an ample view of her bosom.
Duncan squirmed away from Cassandra as best he could, seated in the wheelchair. It didn't occur to him to get up and leave. His old girlfriend draped her arm around the investigator and pulled him close, sitting on the edge of his chair, as cameras flashed, lending the drab lobby the lighting of a discotheque.
"That's it boys. Clear off," Cassandra ordered as a security officer for the hospital approached the group.
The reporters dissipated as quickly as they'd arrived, leaving Duncan alone with Cassandra and a stunned Jerry. He scanned the room for Angela, but she was nowhere to be seen.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, incensed.
Cassandra's smile transformed into a hurt expression. She jutted her lower lip forward in an exaggerated pout.
"Just helping you get back on your feet. Imagine the publicity this will generate for your consulting venture. Now, everyone knows you're here to stay. You should be thanking me instead of scowling, Poppett."
She bent over him and, placing a palm on each side of his jaw, attempted to draw him into a full blown kiss.
"Uhm, uhm," someone cleared their throat behind Cassandra.
Duncan jerked his face free while Jerry looked on, bemused at the scene. Cassandra straightened to her full height and turned to see who dared interrupt her mini-tryst.
"Excuse me," Angela said in a business-like tone, stepping to one side and then moving her body between Duncan and the former model. "Are you ready?" she asked with a pleasant voice, smiling at both the investigator and Jerry while ignoring the woman.
"Yes," he rasped out.
He tried to keep his eyes off Cassandra, but gave her a sidelong glance as Jerry wheeled him from the lobby. His old girlfriend tapped away on her mobile phone, ignoring their procession. Duncan couldn't remember the last time he felt so awkward. Everything happened so fast. What must Angela think?
Jerry, who by now had collected his thoughts and formed an opinion on the scene in the lobby, saw the patient into the passenger seat of the car. James Dewar had leant Angela the family saloon to retrieve his son from the facility. Duncan said his good-byes and thanked his attendant. Jerry gave him a wry smile, as if to say Now you're in for it, before shutting the vehicle's door. Duncan studied Angela. Her hands trembled at the wheel.
"I'm sorry, Angela. I had no idea that was coming."
"Just what was that?" she asked, her eyes trained straight ahead.
"I don't know. I suspect Cassandra is trying to cash in on the media attention I've had since the story broke about the treasure at Lindisfarne. I tried to get away from her."
He had been instrumental in discovering a lost hoard of riches, hidden by the monks on Holy Island hundreds of years before. His recent case had almost cost him his life and when the press got hold of the details, Duncan featured prominently in their headlines. Years before, he achieved brief fame for a breakthrough technique he'd invented employing mathematics in accident investigations. It was then he'd dated Cassandra Baines, a well-known model in the UK.
"That's not what it looked like," Angela said, her voice full of anger.
The lass flashed her cellular at Duncan, who took the phone in his hand. There, on the on-line page of Edinburgh's leading rag, was a photo of the investigator leering at Cassandra's cleavage with a
pleased expression on his face. In reality, the camera angle affected the photo; he had tried to pull away from the model with a look of disgust, however, that wasn't the story told by the picture. It appeared he drew back for a better look at the beauty's figure, his visage reflecting nirvana.
"That's a delirious smile if I've ever seen one," Angela commented as she drove the vehicle from the car park. She continued, suddenly realizing the identity of the leather clad beauty, "The Cassandra Baines? Is that who that was? You're old paramour?"
Duncan thought at light speed. He needed to dig himself out of this hole as fast as possible.
"Now, Angela, can't you see I'm an injured man? I've just been released from hospital. I had no idea she would show up. I was looking forward to seeing you come through those doors. I'm a weak and helpless invalid. In fact, you could have your way with me now, quite easily," he said.
Humor always appeased Angela.
"If I had my way with you at this moment, you'd be on that curb over there, thrown on your duff!" she retorted, pointing to the pavement as the vehicle rounded a corner. The lass didn't much reduce her speed as she turned from one street to the next and Duncan began to fear they wouldn't arrive home in one piece.
Maybe humor isn't the way to go.
Angela drove on in silence. Duncan could feel the anger emanating from his girlfriend. Truth be told, he found Cassandra's stunt repulsive. He hoped he'd never lay eyes on her again. The investigator drew in a sharp breath and attempted an explanation.
"Angela, I've had no contact with that woman for years. I don't know how she organized that circus back there, but I'm sure she did it for her own gain. I hope I never see her again and I'm embarrassed I ever had anything to do with her. She was only interested in my fame as it was, and I don't appreciate her using my situation now. I should have stood and walked away, but it just didn't occur to me in the moment. I was admiring you, through the glass, dreaming of being alone with you, when this mob of people darted between us, blocking my view, and blinded me with camera flashes. The next thing I knew, that… that… woman draped herself over me. I don't even want to think of it!" Duncan said, his voice shaking with rage.
His romance with Cassandra Baines had been a huge mistake. He was young and had his head turned by the model. As soon as his fame faded, so did their relationship. She'd used him to bolster her own image. Duncan never dealt with his anger over the situation, but now that Cassandra had come between him and Angela, he felt it full force.
"The worst of it is how insulting the entire episode was to you. It's tainted our reunion," he said, his blood pressure rising and pounding behind his temples.
"No, Darling, it hasn't, if we don't allow it."
The soft, sweet tone of Angela's voice shocked Duncan.
"I'm sorry I was harsh. I won't jump to conclusions anymore. Try and calm down, Duncan, it's not good for your health to get so upset."
She reached across the center console and patted his thigh. Then, she took her eyes off the road for a second and gave him a lovely smile. His heart rate jumped and he drew in a deep breath, trying to calm himself.
What just happened?
He had no idea what spurred Angela from fury to concern and affection. After all these years, Angela Smith was still a mystery to him, a beautiful enigma. The investigator ran his fingers through his thick, black hair and stared at his girlfriend, astonished. He knew she was aware of his gaze as her face turned a shade of pink. Duncan enjoyed that view the rest of the way home, imagining his lips on hers.
* * * * * *
"Surprise!" the group screamed as Duncan emerged from the hall into his mum's kitchen.
Crammed into the open concept sitting room and kitchen were dozens of friends and family. The investigator forced a smile, hiding his disappointment. He'd hoped to spend time alone with Angela this afternoon.
Hamish, an old pal, and Angus stood taller than the rest of the visitors, so he spotted them first. He greeted every neighbor, family member, school chum, and friend. Margaret Dewar served a light meal that her guests could eat with their fingers while standing. The investigator tasted a Spanish influence and thought of Mondo, his mum's would-be business partner.
By the time the well wishers left, Duncan was exhausted. He wasn’t used to standing for so long a period. Rehabilitation helped with his broken leg and injured ankle, but he needed to regain his stamina. The doctors and therapists claimed his limp would disappear as he increased his muscle strength and continued the healing process.
Skye and her father, Donald, owners of the Blue Bell Inn, along with Duncan's latest client, Reggie, remained on the divan as the last guests filed from the house. The investigator plunked himself in a chair opposite the innkeeper and breathed a sigh of relief. Angela busied herself tidying the kitchen with Margaret while Duncan's father, James, joined the group in the lounge.
"Thank you for coming," Duncan addressed his friends.
"We wouldn't miss it, Laddie," the innkeeper said.
"Quite right!" Reggie added.
"How are you feeling, Duncan?" Skye asked.
"Brilliant," he stated, bending the truth.
"He's a little tired," Angela called from the kitchen. "Ask him about our adventure at the rehabilitation hospital," she added.
"What happened?" Margaret asked, alarmed.
His mum moved into the lounge and sat on the arm of her husband's chair, towel in hand.
Duncan pulled his cellular from a pocket and said, "Rather than recount the ugly episode, why don't you have a gander at it?"
The investigator handed his phone to Angus who had just returned from seeing people off from the front garden.
"Whoa, Nelly!" he exclaimed.
Duncan's brother loved the westerns he'd seen on television growing up in the States and still used their lingo from time to time. Margaret reached for the mobile phone, but Angus removed it from her range of grasp.
"Not sure ye should see this, Mum," Angus said, tossing the phone to his father. "It might tarnish the image ye have of yer firstborn," he added, chuckling.
James promptly shared the picture with his wife, shook his head, then passed the device to Donald. Duncan's other brother, Harold, joined the group and also viewed the photo, his eyes growing large and round at the sight. Angus produced loud guffaws.
"Wheesht!" Skye said, looking at Angus. "I'm sure Duncan has an explanation," she added, glancing towards Angela with sympathy.
"It'll be all over the broadsheets by morning," Angus said, between chortles. Then, glancing at Angela, he added, "Don't worry. Cassandra Baines turned out to be the bane of my brother's existence. This will blow over."
"It was a frame-up. Just as the facility released me, she showed up with a dozen reporters in tow, snapping away furiously and barking questions at me. I didn't know what hit. Then, she threw herself on me and they took those shots," he recounted with disgust.
"She's scheduled to appear on Edinburgh Today, in the morning," Harold stated, showing the group the television show's web page from his mobile phone.
Edinburgh Today was a local program that ran on the telly, five days a week. Duncan scowled. The last thing he needed was more adverse publicity. There was no telling what Cassandra might claim once in the spotlight.
"Let's not allow this to ruin our day," James stated, the voice of reason.
"I agree," Angela said. "Can someone run me over to my hotel?"
"What? Haven't you been staying here?" Duncan asked.
"Yes, but now that you're home, I don't think we should be under the same roof," the lass stated. "Besides, your mum's got a full house."
Duncan glanced at his mother who beamed her approval of Angela's good judgement and consideration for others.
"Before ye go, Angela. I'd like to make a proposition," Donald stated, looking around the room.
"Please do, Donald," James Dewar said.
"Seeing everything yer family has been through, I'd like ye all to come spend Christm
as at the Blue Bell. Ye'd have the rooms to yersel and we've got many festivities in the local area to entertain ye. I've been laboring away on the festival committee and it will be a holiday to remember, especially Hogmanay. We've a fine Christmas dinner, served in the pub, as well. What do ye say?"
"I think it's a brilliant idea!" Margaret exclaimed. "We could all use a fresh start for the new year. Do you have space for all of us, though, Donald?" she asked.
"Aye. Just let me know who will be joining ye and we'll have everything ready. I'm hoping ye can come the week before and stay through Hogmanay," the innkeeper enthused.
"Thank you, Donald! That's a wonderful offer," Margaret spoke for the group.
"And don't think I've given up on me other offer, Duncan. Dae ye ken?"
"I understand, Donald. Let's discuss details later," he said, too tired to address the issue. The innkeeper had recently offered to sell his interest in the Blue Bell to Duncan, claiming he was too old to continue running the establishment.
"Come on, Lass. I'll drive ye to yer hotel," Angus said, placing an arm around Angela and giving his brother a sly grin.
"Thank you, Angus," Angela said, dipping to place a chaste good-bye kiss on Duncan's cheek.
This was not the afternoon the investigator had hoped for.
-2-
Is Any Publicity Really Good Publicity?
Duncan couldn't help tuning in to watch Edinburgh Today. As the show began, his brothers and parents joined him in front of the telly. Fortunately, Angela was still at her hotel. He'd hate to have to sit through this with her at his side.
Cassandra Baines claimed the second feature that morning. The model wore a skin tight, short red Lycra dress for the cameras. She swiveled in her chair as the program's host introduced her, showing off her long legs for viewers.
"Cassandra, it's good to see you again. What have you been up to?"
"It's lovely to be back with you, Nick. I've been working in L.A., London, New York, and Paris. I'm here taking a much needed break."
Mystery: The Christmas Contest: A Duncan Dewar Romantic Comedy of Mystery & Suspense (Duncan Dewar Mysteries Book 5) Page 1
