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Authors: Joyce Magnin

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BOOK: Blame It On The Mistletoe - A Novel of Bright's Pond
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19

 

 

The next morning arrived with rain and cold. It was the kind of rain that started as ice pellets and then turned to rain once it hit the ground. I could hear it pelting the windows and roof. Arthur never liked this kind of rain. I think the noise bothered him, and he stayed underfoot all morning. I tripped over him twice.

"I'm going to hurt you if you don't watch out," I said. "Crazy, paranoid cat."

After breakfast, I made my way to the town hall hoping to catch up with Mildred. She was planning on meeting with Doctor Silver. I kind of wanted to be in on the conversation. I walked because the roads looked a little slippery, and it could be worse by the time we finished at Greenbrier. Mildred could just drop me at home afterward.

"Nasty weather," she said when I saw her in her office.

"Yeah. I'm worried about the kids' rehearsal tonight. I hope Dot is able to still hold it. And I hope Mercy Lincoln comes out."

"Oh, that's right. Well, they're calling for rain on and off all day and turning to ice. Not a great day to be on the roads. I might have to close the highway in and out of town later."

"Oh, that won't matter so much. Most of the kids can walk."

"Good." Mildred searched through papers on her desk. "So are you ready to go?"

"Yep. I'm hoping the doctor decides to let it go. Maybe just tell Leon to stop coming around and then he can get the place back to normal."

"I'm hoping he decides to pop Leon Fontaine in the loony bin."

"Ah, that isn't nice. He's harmless."

"For now, but one day . . . he could snap and shoot up the trailer park."

"Nah, they got one wacky guy up there already. That's his job."

"Oh, yeah, I remember. The old war vet who shoots trash cans and raccoons. Haven't heard much from him lately."

She pulled her office door closed, and we headed for the car.

Mildred drove a little slow, maybe a little too slow, all the way to the nursing home. "I'd much rather drive on snow than this stuff," she said. "I don't like not being able to feel the road under my tires."

"I appreciate you going up here today."

"Need answers, Griselda. The law doesn't take a holiday."

That time I tried real hard not to roll my eyes but sometimes it was all a person could do.

She pulled into the parking lot. It was pretty sparse that day. "Looks like some folks might have taken the day off."

"It's the smart thing to do," I said.

We saw Nurse Sally first.

"Don't you ever leave this place?" I said half joking. "Doesn't your family miss you?"

"No. I spent the night last night on account of the weather. I knew a lot of people would call in sick. Someone had to be here."

"Is Doctor Silver here?" Mildred asked.

"He called. He'll be in a little late. Maybe an hour."

"Oh, geez," Mildred said looking around the place. "That's OK, mind if I interview some of the other residents?"

"No, just be careful like before. We don't want blood pressure spikes and heart attacks on a day like this."

"Let's start with Agnes," Mildred said.

"Agnes? But she hasn't taken any of the magic water."

"I know, but she might know something."

We headed down the hall toward Agnes's room. I noticed Christmas cutouts taped to the walls—ornaments, Santas, trees, and candy canes. Some of them looked homemade and cut from construction paper with glitter and ribbons, while others were definitely store-bought.

"She would have told me if she knew anything," I said.

"Yeah, but still, let's go visit. Sometimes a trained interrogator can ask just the right question to jar a person's memory."

Agnes was still in her bed. The home was short on aides so there was a good chance she could stay in bed all day. When I saw her lying there I imagined Ruth trying to wrap enough pink satin around her to make a suitable bridesmaid dress. I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"Morning, Agnes," I said. "Look who's here."

"Mildred Blessing," Agnes said. "How are you?"

Mildred removed her cop hat and walked over to Agnes's bedside. "Hi, Agnes. It's good to see you. You're looking chipper, and I think maybe a little skinnier?" She put a question mark on the end of the sentence.

"Yeah, they say I'm losing but I can't tell. I still have enough blubber to keep Anchorage in lights for a year or more."

"Now, Agnes," I said. "What did we decide about you putting yourself down?"

"Oh, I've just been feeling upset since our last talk. You know about the wedding and the dress and all."

I helped her with a sip of water. "I have good news about that," I said. "We're going to get married right here at Greenbrier. Out in the gazebo."

"No kidding, really? Zeb agreed to that?"

"Sure did. I figure we'll wheel you out and you can sit in your chair while Pastor Speedwell does the deed."

"Does the deed," Mildred said. "You make it sound like an execution."

"Oh, stop," Agnes said. "It sounds lovely. When?"

"Christmas Eve."

"Christmas Eve? Wow. But what if it snows?"

"No matter, we'll still do it."

"But what about a dress?" Agnes asked.

"Ruth Knickerbocker is working on it."

"She's sewing me a dress?" Agnes said. I thought I saw a spark of interest. She pulled herself up on the trapeze bar. "That's so sweet of her."

"Yep." I knew I was rushing the truth, but I also knew that when the chips were down Ruth was the woman you wanted in your corner.

"Agnes," Mildred said, "mind if I change the subject?"

"Course not. What's on your mind?"

"It's about Leon Fontaine and the way people are acting."

"Oh, I suppose you want to talk about that supposed Fountain of Youth water."

"You heard about it?" I said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It was just the other day, and you haven't been here for me to tell. Haddie Grace showed me one of Leon's bottles. Cute."

"Do you know anyone else he might have given it to?" Mildred asked.

Agnes smiled and her eyebrows rose. "Just look around. Plenty of people acting a little . . . peculiar."

"Did he try to give you any?"

"No. Not sure why. Maybe he was afraid of me. I could crush him, you know."

Nurse Sally poked her head in the room. "Excuse me, but Chief Blessing, Doctor Silver has arrived a little earlier than he thought. I told him you wanted to speak to him."

"Oh, oh, thank you," Mildred said. "Now look, Agnes, you just keep getting skinny and don't worry about Leon Fontaine. I'll get the little con artist on some charge."

"I ain't worried about him," Agnes said. "I'm just wondering why everyone is making such a big deal about it."

"People could get hurt," Mildred said.

I kissed Agnes's cheek. "I'll be back before we leave." I looked out the window. "And from the looks of that sky and the sleet falling it better be soon."

 

 

Doctor Silver was tall, young, and handsome with Al Pacino hair. He wore his white doctor coat with two pens sticking out of the top pocket. His name, Dr. Richard Silver, was embroidered under the pocket in blue thread.

Mildred spoke first. "Good morning, Doctor Silver, Chief Mildred Blessing, Bright's Pond Chief of Police, I was hoping you could shed some light on what is going on around here."

He looked up from his desk work. "Morning. I wish I could. All I know is what you know, and I also wish someone would put an end to it and soon. These people should not be carrying on the way they are."

"Then you know about Leon Fontaine?"

He nodded. "I do. And I told Haddie and Clive and the others, especially Jasper York, to stop taking his water. They call it the Elixir—did you know that? The Elixir of Youth."

"Can't you force them to stop?"

"It's water." Doctor Silver stood up and walked to a small table that held a coffee carafe. "Oh, please, let Sally have filled this thing this morning."

"Are you OK?" I asked.

Doctor Silver poured the carafe. "Ah, hot coffee. Yes, I'm fine. A bit busy." He returned to his desk. "I think you'll need to ban Leon Fontaine from coming around here," Doctor Silver said. "Slap some kind of restraining order on him."

"Will you swear that he's a detriment and harming people?"

The doctor nodded his head as he sipped coffee from a green mug. "Yep. Just give me the papers."

That was when we heard Haddie whiz past the office. "She is going to kill herself," Doctor Silver said. "That woman's bones are as brittle as tree bark. One good crash and—SNAP!"

I shuddered.

"OK," Mildred said. "I'll round him up today and put an end to these shenanigans."

Doctor Silver doodled something on a white pad. "You know, it really has been something though. I've seen people who haven't gotten out of bed in weeks suddenly get up and move around like they were ten years younger."

"Then what's the big deal?" I asked.

"It's dangerous, Miss Sparrow, this kind of mind control."

"Mind control?" I said. "Are you serious? It's just a little— well, a lot of—persuasive salesmanship."

"Just stop him, please. Before something happens. It's hard to examine people on tricycles and hanging from trees."

"I will," Mildred said. "You can count on—"

BAM! CRASH! The sound of falling objects rang through the room.

"Oh, no," Doctor Silver said. He nearly leaped across his desk. We followed after.

Haddie Grace was lying in a twisted heap near her tricycle.

A resident who was standing with his back against the wall like he had been stapled there said, "I jumped out of her way and she swerved and crashed into the medicine cart. Is she . . . dead?"

Doctor Silver knelt beside Haddie. "No, she's unconscious, and from the looks of it I'd say she has a broken hip and God knows what else."

"That tears it," Mildred said. "He's under arrest now. Come on, Griselda. I got to get to Paradise and find him, if you're coming."

I looked at the spare little woman. "Coming, Mildred."

 

 

It was a rare occurrence but also one of Mildred's all-time favorite parts of being a cop: she flipped on her flashing lights and siren and off we went to Paradise in hot pursuit of Leon Fontaine.

"Do you think he's on to us?" Mildred said as she took a curve like a racecar driver. I thought we might flip over for a second.

"N-n-no," I said hanging on for dear life. "He doesn't know he's doing anything harmful."

"I can't let him keep giving them people that water," Mildred said.

"I think he'll be reasonable. If you just talk to him. And Mildred, I'd like to wear the dress I bought to my wedding and not a body cast. Slow down."

"Oh, sorry," she said and then added, "civilians."

The weather turned nastier and nastier the closer we got to the trailer park. Ice and sleet pelted the windshield. No one was on the road but us and what smelled like a manure truck up ahead. Dark, almost black, snow clouds hung overhead, bottom-heavy and ominous.

"Did you hear anything about snow later?" I said. "Sure looks it."

"No, but that's fine with me. Rather have snow than this . . . stuff. I hate ice."

"All the more reason to slow down."

I saw the Paradise sign all lit up and flashing against the gray sky. "Oh, good, almost there."

"I think this is gonna be harder than you think," Mildred said. "We can't even get him to admit that he's giving the water to the people, let alone get him to stop."

"I know, but I think maybe if you put a little scare into him, that might work."

Mildred chuckled. "Are you kidding? That man's a nutcase. I don't know how to get through to him. Might have to arrest him and bring him out to Greenbrier—to that psychiatric ward of theirs and let them deal with him."

"Brig-a-LOON," I said. "Oh, don't do that. He'll crumble in a place like that. Leon thinks he's a hero, a knight in shining armor saving people."

"But what if Haddie Grace dies?" Mildred said.

"We'll pray she won't. But even then, I doubt the reality of the situation will sink in. Leon is convinced he's Don Quixote or something."

BOOK: Blame It On The Mistletoe - A Novel of Bright's Pond
8.46Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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