The audience applause was deafening since we were all basically cheering for ourselves. Everyone had obviously forgotten all about those little glitches Rafe had mentioned.
“I would especially like to mention a few people by name,” Rafe continued. “These three went above and beyond the call of duty this week. Your efforts, your good counsel, and your courage will never be forgotten. They are MacKintyre Sullivan, Shannon Hammer, and Marigold Starling. Please stand up so everyone can see you.”
I stood in a daze as the audience erupted in frenetic applause. I could feel the ground vibrating under my feet and it was starting to concern me. I squeezed Mac’s hand the whole time until he finally had to laugh and slip his hand out of mine.
“I think you’ve cut off my circulation,” he murmured, flexing his fingers.
“Sorry,” I said as we took our seats again. “That was a little intense.”
Mac glanced around. “We’ve got an enthusiastic crowd tonight.”
“There’s a fine line between that and a frenzied mob,” I muttered.
“Now, I’d like to announce the winners of the foundation grants.”
For the next few minutes, Rafe called up the grant winners and listed their amazing ideas for saving the world. The crowd, as expected, went wild.
“Next year,” Rafe began speaking again, “I will give a fifty-thousand-dollar award to any participant who comes up with the perfect solution to save the birds from being hurt by my wind turbines.”
Everyone cheered that news.
“Some of you commented that the wind turbines were operating again last night. I’ve successfully overcome the noise pollution issue, but the bird protection measures are an ongoing experiment. Last night I tried a new technique after learning that birds are apparently repelled by the aroma of grapes.”
The crowd reacted with quizzical looks and some laughter.
“With the help of the good folks at Hammer Winery, we kept a continuous fine mist created from grapeseed extract spraying on and around the turbines. If it works, I’ll be ecstatic. But if not, I’ll try something else. So help me out, people. If your idea works, it could win you fifty thousand dollars.”
And yet more applause greeted that line.
Rafe grinned as he walked back and forth on the stage, carrying the microphone.
“Whatever the results, you’ll hear all about it at the second annual Future Global Survival Con! Now go enjoy the party and we’ll see you next year!”
* * *
* * *
The cocktail party was in full swing when Jane came up and joined Mac and me.
“I love having a full house at the hotel, but I’ll be glad to see everyone leave.” She smiled and shook her head. “I’m ready for things to get back to normal.”
“Do you have new people coming in?”
“Not until Tuesday, thank heaven.”
“So you get one day off.”
She smiled. “Not really, since we’ve got to spend all day tomorrow cleaning out all the rooms to get them ready for the next group.”
“It’s a good thing your housekeeping staff is so fabulous.”
Jane nodded. “I pay lots of money to keep them happy.”
“Good practice,” Mac said.
“Oh, there’s Niall,” I said, and waved.
“So what?” Jane said quickly. “I mean . . . who needs another drink?”
I stared at her and watched her cheeks redden. There was something going on here. But Jane still wasn’t talking.
I shrugged and glanced back at Niall. “He looks busy. I guess he’s helping Emily right now. He’s a really good brother. A really good guy.”
Jane let out a deep breath and looked pointedly in the opposite direction. “Shannon, I thought that woman Belinda was dating your uncle.”
I followed her gaze, and frowned. “I thought so, too, but apparently she’s dating my father.”
“Awkward.”
“No.” I had thought so, but it was no longer awkward at all. I still wasn’t so sure how I felt about my dad with a girlfriend, and I had to admit that a part of me was going to keep an eye on Belinda for a while. But I wanted to see my dad happy.
“Seriously, Shannon?” Lizzie asked. “No ugly triangles? How does Pete really feel?”
I shrugged. “He insists that Belinda is like a sister to him.”
“Hmm.” Jane gave another glance at the three people being discussed. “I didn’t get the sister-brother vibe from those two that night at the wine bar.”
Neither had I. And I still wondered if Belinda had switched her affections from Uncle Pete to my dad. But she and Dad were so sure of everything, so who was I to disagree? I would try to take the time in the next week or so to drive out to the winery and get the full scoop from Uncle Pete.
“There’s a mystery wrapped up in there,” I said thoughtfully. And I would get to the bottom of it eventually.
“But your dad looks really happy,” Jane said.
“He sure does.”
Marigold joined our little group, and after we all clinked glasses, she leaned against me. “I’m exhausted,” she admitted.
“Right there with you.”
“And all I did was talk about quilting one afternoon,” she said. “You unmasked a vicious killer and plant strangler.”
“And poisoner,” Lizzie added. “And mouse liberator, and . . . what else?”
“I don’t even want to think about it,” Marigold said, giving me a quick one-armed hug. “But you did it.”
“All in a day’s work,” I said, and they all laughed.
“I know you, Shannon.” Jane gazed at me perceptively. “You had to have been scared to death. I mean, there were mice.”
Everyone laughed again. They all knew about my little phobia now that word had gotten out about the attack of the smart mice.
“But there was also the aforementioned vicious killer,” Lizzie added, bringing them all back to reality.
I exhaled heavily. “Yeah, well. Wesley Mycroft is just plain evil. And creepy, too. And then, okay, all those mice pouring out of the greenery just freaked me out.”
I was trying my best to make light of it, but talk about creepy. I rubbed my arms all over again.
My friends were quiet for a moment while I shook off the memory of staring down that rifle barrel and then confronting the army of fuzzy rodents.
“Hey, there’s Midge,” Mac said, changing the subject while subtly squeezing my hand.
I gave him a grateful smile for moving the attention away from me, then turned to see what everyone else was looking at. The petite woman was standing at the bar, deep in conversation with Dr. Larsson.
“That’s an interesting pair,” I said.
Marigold turned to see. “That’s the mouse doctor. But isn’t she still involved with Sketch Horn?”
“Oh no,” Mac said dryly. “Actually, I understand that Midge and the mouse doctor are collaborating on ways to get smart mice to live underwater.”
“Smart mice,” Lizzie said, shaking her head. “That’s just weird.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I muttered. The shivers hit again without warning and I didn’t even try to be subtle as I rubbed my arms briskly again.
“There’s Honey,” Lizzie said, pointing out Sketch Horn’s wife as she moved with catlike elegance over to the bar.
“You know her?” I asked.
“She came into the store for the book signing the first day of the conference. She’s really sweet. And smart.”
I wouldn’t have called Honey sweet, but I liked her. Mac and I gave the girls an abbreviated recap of the scene with Honey raking her husband over the coals the other day. Not that he hadn’t deserved it.
Lizzie frowned as a thought occurred. “Do you think she calls herself Honey Horn
?”
I spluttered my wine, looked up at Mac, and we both laughed out loud.
Mac managed to say, “I don’t think she’ll be using her husband’s name much longer.”
“And that’s not even his real name,” Jane said.
“And even if it was,” I added. “Honey Horn? That name probably won’t work for her.”
Lizzie nodded soberly. “You’re probably right.”
Rafe joined our group and wrapped his arm around Marigold’s waist. “I hope you’re all having fun.”
“The best,” Jane said. “You throw a good party, Rafe.”
“Thanks. I had a little help.” He glanced at Mac and me. “I’d like the board to meet in a few days for some post-conference discussions, but I want to get your first impressions while they’re still fresh.”
“First impressions of what?” I asked.
“Of the conference,” he said, grinning. “What did you think of it overall?”
I started to answer, but then saw something that distracted me completely. “Wait. Sorry, Rafe. But isn’t that Julian Reedy putting his arm around Sketch Horn’s wife?”
“Ooh,” Jane said. “Julian and Honey make a pretty couple, don’t they?”
I stared at her. My friend Jane had a romantic soul, but she was getting carried away with the twisted dream of a Julian-Honey hookup. “Seriously?”
Her smile was dreamy. “I just want everyone to be happy.”
“Honey’s probably just gathering research for her next book,” Lizzie said. “But they are awfully cute together.”
“That settles it,” Mac said, patting Rafe on the back. “You want my opinion? This conference is so much better than any writers’ conference I’ve ever been to, simply for the amount of crazy whacked-out coupling going on.”
Rafe threw his head back and laughed. “I guess that’s one way to gauge its effectiveness.”
“I give it a big thumbs-up,” I said. “For world-class thrills and chills.”
“Oh, Shannon.” He gave me a warm hug. “You saved some lives this week and I appreciate it. I especially appreciate you keeping Marigold safe.”
“My absolute pleasure, believe me,” I said, sharing a secret smile with Marigold. “She kept me safe, too.”
“Then I’d say it was a real success,” Rafe said.
“Hmm, let’s see,” I mused. “Two murders, rampaging mice, a barn raising, couples uncoupling, and a shot through the hearth.” I raised my arms in a victory salute. “Best conference ever!”
About the Author
A native Californian, New York Times bestselling author Kate Carlisle worked in television for many years before turning to writing. Inspired by the northern seaside towns of her native California, where Victorian mansions grace the craggy cliffs and historic lighthouses warn fishermen and smugglers alike, Kate was drawn to create the Fixer-Upper Mysteries, featuring small-town girl Shannon Hammer, a building contractor specializing in home restoration. Kate also writes the New York Times bestselling Bibliophile Mysteries featuring Brooklyn Wainwright.
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Shot Through the Hearth Page 25
