The Unraveling of Violeta Bell (29 page)

“I checked the obits for you,” Ike joked, forcing me to take another sip of apple juice. “No Dolly Madison Sprowls. So don’t let all that good news you’re reading make you think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”

I rolled up the paper and swatted him.

Ike got that look in his eye. “I know this was a hard thing for you to do, Maddy. Both James and I appreciate it.”

I swatted him again. Getting my tonsils out was a hard thing for me to do. Not only because I was a 69-year-old woman having a child’s operation. Not because everyone at the paper was going to tease me. And not because of that propaganda about sleep apnea leading to more serious problems. No, it was a hard thing for me to do because it forced me to admit that I needed both James and Ike in my life. I swatted him a third time for good measure.

Ike leaned back in his chair and let me read. Unfortunately his good behavior only lasted a few minutes. Out of the corner of my eye I caught him pulling the paper top off my little plastic cup of pudding. “That better be for you,” I squeaked.

“As a matter of fact it is,” he said. He spooned a big lump of it into his mouth. I got his attention. Motioned that I wanted some, too. He guided a spoonful into my mouth.

The pudding was soothing. Seeing Eric Chen standing side-by-side with Gabriella Nash in the doorway was not. I made a painful, pudding-clogged sound that sounded a little like, “No visitors!”

They came in anyway. Eric did not have a Mountain Dew in his hand. But he did have FedEx box. “Package from Canada,” he said.

“No doubt a diamond-encrusted tiara from the prince,” Gabriella added.

Eric liked that. “Princess Maddy of Tonsilvania.”

Ike did not like that. He took the package from Eric hands. “You want me to toss these two troublemakers out?”

I shook my head no. Motioned for Ike to open the package.

Ike sat up straight and slid his legs together. Rested the package across his knees. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a penknife.

Yes, Ike is one of those men who always carries a penknife.

He opened the knife and felt the blade with his thumb. Then he slowly cut the clear tape across the top of the package.

If only my surgeon had been that careful.

He rolled the tape into a ball. He looked around for a wastebasket. Eric and Gabriella joined the hunt. They couldn’t find one. Ike finally put the ball on my tray. He closed his penknife and put it in his pocket.

Now Ike opened the FedEx box. And froze like Lott’s wife as he studied whatever was inside. He finally pulled out a rectangular bundle of bubblewrap.

Bubblewrap held together with lots of tape.

Ike rested the bundle on his knees and fished for his penknife again. He opened the knife and felt the blade with his thumb again. He slowly cut the tape, making sure he didn’t puncture a single bubble.

My throat was hurting and I desperately wanted a sip of apple juice. But no way in hell was I going to interrupt Mr. Careful.

Ike rolled that tape into a ball and placed it on the tray. He put the knife back in his pocket. Eric and Gabriella gathered around him for the unveiling.

Ike hooked the edge of the bubble wrap between his thumb and finger and went around and around until it was wound up on his hand. In his other hand was a small wooden box. A beautifully decorated wooden box about the size of a harmonica. The box that Gloria McPhee had placed in Violeta’s niche.

Ike handed me the box.

I waited until he slipped his hand out of the bubblewrap.

He put the wrap on the table and leaned toward me.

Eric and Gabriella sat on the edge of my bed. Very close to each other. The thought that those two might be coupling up made me shiver.

Ike was concerned. “You okay, Maddy?”

I nodded. I put my finger on the tiny brass half-circle latch and swung it open. I opened the box. I gasped and swallowed. Moaned in pain. I reached into the box and pulled out a brightly painted lead solider. The little soldier was seated atop a prancing horse. Holding an unfurled Romanian flag.

I flattened out my other hand and stood the little solider and horse on my palm.

“What’s that all about?” Ike asked.

Pain or no pain I had to explain. “A Romanian Hussar. A gift from Prince Albert of England to Prince Anton’s great-great grandfather.”

Ike could see I needed a sip of apple juice. He made sure I didn’t take too much.

I motioned for him to take the soldier from my hand. There was a letter in the bottom of the box.

I pulled out the letter and rested the empty box on my belly. The envelope, of course, was sealed, and I had to wait for Ike to hand the soldier to Eric then retrieve his penknife and test the blade with his thumb.

I impatiently wiggled my fingers at him. He handed me the knife. I cut the top of the envelope open. I pulled out the letter inside with my teeth. I read it:

Dearest Maddy,

I spent most of my life looking for these little soldiers.

Violeta was looking, too, apparently. And found one.

Anyway, I want you to have it. As fine and rare as it is, you gave me something far more valuable.

Please don’t feel guilty about accepting it. I still have a few years left to find the rest of them. (Perhaps when I do, we can get down on the floor together and play with them!) With deepest respect and, may I say, growing affection,

Anton

PS

Don’t worry. I’ve had it checked by an expert. It is not a fake.

I folded the letter and put it back in the envelope. I put the envelope back in the box. I motioned for Eric to hand me the little soldier. I put that in the box, too. I closed the lid. It was a wonderful gift. From a wonderful man. I reached for Ike’s hand. “How long before we can go home, sweetie?”

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Front Cover Flap

Newspaper librarian Maddy Sprowls never gives story ideas to the editors at
The Hannawa Herald-Union.
She prefers to stay in the newspaper “morgue” and do her job, and hopes the editors stay in the newsroom and do theirs.

Then one Saturday she sees four elderly women get out of a taxicab at a garage sale. She figures that those women must hire the cabby every week to drive them from garage sale to garage sale. And wouldn’t that make a great feature story for the paper? Monday morning she runs straight to the newsroom with her idea.

Shortly after the story runs, one of the four women is murdered: retired antique dealer Violeta Bell. Maddy wants no part of the investigation, but before she knows it, she’s on another of her infamous snoopathons. And, good gravy, enjoying every minute of it.

Violeta Bell is an enigma. She even claimed to be the Queen of Romania. Could it be true?

Back Cover Flap

Readers who loved C.R. Corwin’s first two Morgue Mama mysteries—
The Cross Kisses Back
and
Dig
—will be happy to see that Maddy is as crafty and cantankerous as ever.

C.R. Corwin lives in Akron, Ohio with his wife, Carol, and a pair of inexhaustible Shetland sheepdogs, Nellie and Dudley. A former newspaperman, he teaches a “Writing That Novel” course at the University of Akron.

Back Cover Material

Praise for
The Unraveling of Violeta Bell…

“Maddy, a sixtyish woman with a sharp tongue and a willful lack of interest in technology, is a welcome relief from the charming, pixyish heroes of so many cozies.”

—Booklist

Praise for earlier Morgue Mama Mysteries…

“Every hometown newspaper has some colorful old crab like Dolly Madison (Maddy) Sprowls on the premises, and C.R. Corwin had the wit to make her the heroine of his amusing debut mystery…. Maddy is back in all her despotic glory in
Dig.
”

—Marilyn Stasio,
New York Times

“Maddy, full of life at 68, is a terrific narrator.”

—Kirkus Reviews
on
Dig

“It’s not [just] the story that keeps us going; it’s Maddy herself, a charming, curmudgeonly 68-year-old who is less Miss Marple and more television’s Lou Grant (adjusted for age and gender differences).”

—Booklist
on
Dig

“Corwin’s witty and engaging caper … part satire and part social commentary … is far from a standard whodunit…. Smalltown politics and office love affairs entangle almost everyone except Maddy [bringing] her and the reader genuine excitement right through the stunning conclusion to this lively adventure.”

—Publishers Weekly
on
Morgue Mama: The Cross Kisses Back

“Serviceable prose, knotty characters, and major unexpected plot twists.”

—Library Journal
on
Morgue Mama: The Cross Kisses Back

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