Lie of the Needle (A Deadly Notions Mystery) (24 page)

“Stone the crows,” Cyril murmured. “Sounds like the village bike. Everyone’s had a ride.”

T
onight was the night of Martha’s party. As Joe and I walked up the street, her huge old Victorian was lit up like the proverbial Christmas tree. I smiled as I saw the weather vane already installed on the roof. The ebony sky above us was clear and studded with stars, with the North Star the brightest of them all.

Follow the Drinking Gourd
, the slaves used to whisper to one another. The old spiritual song was actually a musical map full of escape instructions, and the drinking gourd didn’t mean the hollowed-out fruit used as a water dipper, but was a code word for the Big Dipper. Find it in the sky, and just below it would be Polaris, the North Star, always in a fixed position, and their midnight guide to freedom.

I stared at the heavens now, wondering if Alex Roos was looking down from somewhere up above. I made a silent vow to him that I would complete his mission and the story he had set out to tell. The Millbury Historical Society would also document to the best of our ability our little village’s role in the journeys of those who had passed through here, seeking only the most basic of human rights.

“You okay, Daisy?”

I nodded at Joe, but I couldn’t speak, so I kissed him instead. He squeezed my hand as we walked up the steps and into the house.

Before us, a wide staircase curved up in an arc. To the right was the grand mahogany-paneled living room where Magic Hat Catering was putting the final touches on tables laden with appetizers. Music and laughter reverberated off the walls of the old home. Martha must have spent a fortune on the mountains of shrimp cocktail, truffled mushroom bruschetta, chicken empanadas, mini beef sliders, and cheesesteak egg rolls. There was also a glorious antipasto platter and an artisanal cheese board. The pièce de résistance was a chocolate fountain with fresh fruit, where Claire was standing in rapt attention. She rushed up to me, a string of silver tinsel around her head.

“Martha let me help decorate her tree because we’re not going to be in our house until January. Did you ever see such a big one in your life, Daisy?”

“Can’t say I ever did.” Like everything Martha set her hand to, this tree was on a grand scale. I would imagine the ceilings in her living room were about fourteen feet high, and the majestic Fraser fir in the corner, laden with ornaments, was almost touching it.

There was already a huge stack of presents around it for Patsy and Claire’s housewarming gifts. I walked over with Claire and set my gift bag containing the margarita glasses and blender next to the pile. “It’s the most spectacular tree I’ve ever seen. And I can’t wait to see you in your new house.”

“I’m determined that they will have everything to set up house properly,” Martha said as she swept over to me and Joe and gave us each an enthusiastic hug. She looked like she might cry tears of joy again. Martha had been doing a lot of that lately. “Oh, I have the most wonderful friends.”

“Martha, you look fantastic,” Joe said. And it was true. The sparkle was back in her eyes, and she wore a black cocktail dress that wrapped lovingly around her voluptuous figure.

Cyril was in his favorite spot at the bar. He poured a glass of chardonnay for me and cracked a beer for Joe.

“How about my special cockle-warming cocktail?” he said to Eleanor, wielding a bottle of whiskey as she came up with Tony Z in tow. I think it was the first time I’d ever seen Eleanor in a dress, and this one was a simple silver sheath that set off her hair to perfection. Tony also looked very smart in a tuxedo with a red rose in his lapel.

“I’m calling it Miner’s Gold. Whiskey, ginger beer, honey, and lime.”

“Sounds good,” Tony said. “I’ll have one of those.”

“I’ll have my usual,” Eleanor said. “You know what they say. Absinthe makes the heart grow fonder.”

As the guests mingled, and Joe and Cyril started chatting about whether the Eagles might actually have a chance in the playoffs this year, I drew Tony to one side.

“Tony, I don’t quite know how to say this, but you know, Eleanor has been through a lot. She’s finally taking a chance on love again. Please, don’t hurt her.”

He smiled at me. Tony Z had the cutest dimples. “I know you mean well, Daisy, but
I’m
not the one you need to give your lecture to. I’ve been in love with that woman for years. If it doesn’t work out with us, I’m not sure my heart can take it.”

“I’m sorry,” I choked. “Sometimes I really should mind my own business.”

Tony clinked his glass against mine. “It’s okay. You’re a good friend to Eleanor, and I’m enjoying the hell out of my life right now. At my age, this romance is a gift.”

I set my glass down and gave him the warmest hug I could. We stood there in companionable silence and watched the preening between Chris Paxson and Serrano as they circled Patsy.

“Looks like there’s no shortage of guys volunteering to help Patsy move,” Tony said.

I chuckled, but I still couldn’t picture Serrano and Patsy together. They were like corner pieces of a jigsaw that would never fit.

Serrano caught my eye at that moment and came over to us. He was wearing a dark elegant suit with a sky-blue tie that matched his eyes.

Tony made a big show of jumping back a step. “Yo, Detective! I can’t stand next to you. You look so sharp, I might cut myself.” As I laughed, Tony said, “Think it’s time for a song, don’t you?”

He walked into the middle of the room and promptly launched into an aria, a capella. I was amazed as always at the powerful voice that came from a relatively small guy. Conversation quieted as his beautiful tenor soared up into the high ceilings, the echoes resounding around the room like an angelic chorus. I shivered and rubbed my arms.

Eleanor stood, glass halfway to her lips, her eyes dark gray and unblinking.

“Jesus Christ, I might fall in love with him myself if he keeps this up,” Serrano muttered.

“Did you just make a joke, Detective?”

But Serrano was never laid-back for long. Under cover of the applause he said, “You’ll be pleased to know that Nancy Fowler has decided to make a considerable donation to the Historical Society. According to her, she was unaware of the blackmail and feels terrible about her husband’s actions.”

Cyril joined us. “I’ll believe her, thousands wouldn’t. Guess she came up trumps in the end.”

“That’s fantastic!” I said. “And Eleanor thinks that we’re likely to get a grant from the National Register of Historic Places for Pennsylvania, so it looks like we’ll be able to buy the farm after all. Old man Yerkel is tickled that one of his ancestors was a hero. A conductor for the railroad. We’ll use the proceeds from the calendar to purchase a different building for the kids’ community center.”

“And I want to pay to restore the farmhouse.” PJ Avery sidled in between me and Cyril.

“PJ! You’re back!” I hugged her. “But are you sure? You should think seriously about how you spend your inheritance money.”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I’m not cut out to be a real estate developer. I’ll buy a nice condo for myself and I’m good.” She stuck her hands in her wrinkled safari jacket and rocked back on her heels. “Money isn’t everything. It’s more important how you live your life.”

As I beamed at PJ, so proud of her that I could burst into song myself, Martha marched over to us. “Ladies, I have something to show you. Come with me. Excuse us, gentlemen, we’ll be right back.”

Along with the rest of the Historical Society members and some of the other female party guests, we dutifully followed her in a long, colorful line upstairs. Martha had dabbled in watercolor painting for a while, and one of the rooms on the second story at the end of the hallway was set up as a studio.

When we walked in, the expansive room with its paint-spattered wood floors was bare, save for twelve easels set around the room. Above each one was a spotlight shining down on the photos of our calendar models, all blown up to poster size.

In awe, we wandered around the impromptu gallery, exclaiming at how wonderful our friends and neighbors looked. Some were sexy, yes, some were fun, but they all had such a sweetness and joy shining out at the camera. Alex was a genius. He had captured the essence, the personality of each man. Regardless of his age or his body, a woman could fall in love with any one of them.

“I hope shoppers will feel the same way we do and scoop up these calendars,” Eleanor said as she stood next to me and grinned at Mr. October and his pumpkins.

But it was when we got to the poster with the picture of Serrano that we halted, holding our collective breath. No one spoke for a while, as if we were at some kind of sacred altar.

“Holy Mary, Mother of God.” Ronnie the psychic crossed herself.

“Girls, we may not be able to put this one in the calendar,” Martha cautioned. “Serrano’s boss is balking a bit.”

“So it might become a black market item?” Eleanor smiled her cat smile.

“I’d pay a
thousand
dollars for one of these,” Ronnie declared. “I’d put it on my bedroom wall, like my poster of David Cassidy in high school.”

“Rock on,” Eleanor said. “Well, if we can’t use Serrano’s photo, perhaps we could convince another one of the firefighters to fill in. They all seemed more than ready to take their clothes off.” She winked at me. “Gotta love those firefighters.”

Martha clapped her hands and announced that we should join the party again, and reluctantly we made our way downstairs.

Dottie Brown was at the bar, enjoying one of Cyril’s special cocktails. “Hi, Daisy. Isn’t it so great that Patsy found a place? Did you hear that Ruth sold her house, too?”

“Really? So fast?”

“Yes, and she’s already closed on it. The buyer was paying cash and didn’t need a mortgage. Ruth left tonight for Belize. I have a friend in the travel business, and she just happened to mention her itinerary to me.”

“Belize?”

I glanced over at Serrano.
Just when I thought that all the mysteries were solved.

But I forgot about it as a vision appeared at the top of the stairs. Martha walked slowly down the carved wood steps of her grand Victorian house, dressed in a long russet silk gown, the one she’d planned to wear to the ball, her vibrant red hair pulled back in a chignon.

Serrano raised an eyebrow.

“Wow,” Joe said.

“Bella.” Tony Z kissed the tips of his fingers.

And as far as Cyril, he was speechless.

“Daisy, you’ll never believe it!” Martha exclaimed, as she came up to me, Eleanor following close behind. “This dress actually has to be taken in.
By four inches!
I’ve been so stressed out that the weight has just fallen off.”

Eleanor smiled wryly at us. “I can honestly say I’ve never been so excited about four inches in my entire life.”

I gave Cyril a nudge. “Go on, get on with it,” I hissed. “No time like the present.”

He cleared his throat and got down on one knee. Out of his pocket he produced an emerald-cut ring that fairly blazed in the light. “Well, lass, we missed the charity ball, but it’d be a real shame to waste that dress. Martha Bristol, will you marry me?”

But Martha was already crying, too choked up to speak.

“She says yes,” Eleanor and I said in chorus.

Cyril took Martha into his arms. I think he murmured “Good enough for me,” but his voice was muffled by her passionate kiss.

Joe put an arm around my shoulders. “Guess you’ll be really busy, Daisy, now that you have
two
weddings to plan.”

“Yeah, that should keep you out of trouble for a while,” Serrano said.

I grinned at him. “Don’t count on it, Detective.”

Joe’s Terrific Turkey Chili

Delicious, and good for you, too, with the low-fat turkey and veggies!

1 pound ground turkey (or you can use ground beef if you like)

1 large onion, chopped

1 tablespoon minced garlic (about 3 cloves)

1 green pepper

1 red pepper

1 stalk celery

2 cups tomato sauce

1 cup corn kernels

2 cups cooked beans (such as pinto or red beans)

1–2 tablespoons chili powder (start with one, and add to taste)

½ teaspoon hot pepper sauce or Tabasco

½ teaspoon oregano

¼ teaspoon cumin

¼ teaspoon coriander

Sprinkling of allspice

Freshly ground black pepper

Brown the turkey in a large, deep saucepan or soup pot. Drain any excess fat. Add the onion and garlic and sauté for a few minutes until the onion is soft.

Add the remaining ingredients, stir well. Bring to a boil, reduce the heat, cover, and simmer for about half an hour.

Note: The amounts of the ingredients are not set in stone. If you want to add extra beans, a yellow pepper instead of red, or more corn, feel free to experiment! Start with the suggested amount of seasonings, and then as it cooks, decide if you need more heat with more chili powder or hot sauce.

Homemade Ice Pack

A cheap and easy way to make your own

1 cup rubbing alcohol (or vodka, but as Eleanor would say, why waste good vodka?)

3 cups water

2 zip-top gallon-size bags

Mix alcohol and water in one bag and seal tightly, removing as much air as possible.

Insert into a second plastic bag and seal tightly.

Place in the freezer for at least 12 hours.

Note: The mixture will be slushy and the bag will mold easily around sore muscles. It’s also good for keeping your lunch cold. To make it more slushy, add more alcohol. Wrap in a towel first before applying to bare skin.