by Jane Hinchey
“Where does that door lead?” I asked Ken urgently.
“Kitchen.”
“And is there a rear door from the kitchen to the parking lot?”
He nodded. And that’s how Elspeth was able to slip in and out of the hall to make her drug deals. And that’s how they were going to get away now if I didn’t stop them. They had a head start, but they were too old ladies, how fast could they be?
“The Sheriff and Detective Galloway are going to be here any second. Tell them I’ve gone after Blanche and Elspeth.” I didn’t hang around to hear Ken’s response. Sprinting to the door, I skidded into it, before getting a grip on the handle and turning.
What was on the other side had not been what I was expecting.
11
Staring down the barrel of Blanche’s rifle, I blinked and slowly pressed myself against the door.
“Blanche,” I said, doing my best not to show fear. “Elspeth.” My eyes darted to the dreadlocked woman who was hovering behind Blanche, wringing her hands.
“What’s going on?” I asked.
“Why were you chasing us?” Blanche demanded.
“What were you doing with Ken?” I shot back.
Blanche narrowed her eyes and settled the butt of the rifle more comfortably against her shoulder. I recognized the move as the intimidation it was, but with my life flashing before my eyes, something else had occurred to me. She was using a rifle. It would be loud. Exceptionally loud. No way she could shoot me and hope no one would hear the shot.
“Blanche,” Elspeth tugged on her sleeve, and Blanche flashed her friend a quick glance. “I’ve got an idea.”
“I’m all ears,” Blanche replied, not taking her eyes off me but tilting her head ever so slightly in her friend's direction.
“I’ve got a new batch in the car. We give her an overdose.” Elspeth shot an apologetic look my way. “Sorry, Love. It’s not personal.”
“It is for me!” I protested.
Ben stepped through the door I was leaning against and walked right through me. I gasped and shuddered at the shock of it, icy tingles spearing through me.
“Oops, sorry, Fitz,” he apologized, then belatedly noticed the predicament I was currently in. “Wow. Who would have thought two old broads have a drug ring operating out of Willow Lake?”
“Mmmhmm,” I said through tight lips, not wanting to alarm Blanche, for while I hoped she wouldn’t shoot me and risk someone hearing the shot, there were no guarantees she wouldn’t decide to do it anyway, consequences be damned.
“What’s wrong with you? Why did you shake like that and make that noise? You sick?” Blanche demanded. She’d lowered the gun a fraction.
“Ever have that feeling, you know the one, where someone walks over your grave?” I asked.
“Oh yeah,” Elspeth nodded. “I get that a lot.”
“It was that.”
Blanche continued to study me for a few more seconds before turning her attention back to Elspeth. “Go get the drugs.”
It was that exact second of distraction that Sheriff Dwight Caldwell had been waiting for. He shouldered the door behind me open, sending me flying. As he barreled through with his pistol drawn and aimed at Blanche, Galloway burst through the door from the parking lot. The women were surrounded.
“Put down the gun, Blanche!” Dwight ordered. Slowly she lowered the barrel toward the floor, and Galloway came up behind her, taking the gun. Dwight approached, his pistol still aimed at the two women while with his free hand, he fished out a set of handcuffs. Galloway laid the rifle on the kitchen bench behind them and took the cuffs, securing Blanche’s wrists behind her back while Dwight took care of Elspeth.
Sprawled on the floor, I lay watching, not moving until both women were restrained.
“Ha!” Ben hooted and pointed at my face. “You’re going to have a black eye!”
“What?” I tentatively touched my face, wincing at the tender skin of my cheekbone and eye socket, belatedly remembering I’d broken my fall with my face. Ben came and crouched in front of me, eyes serious as he surveyed the bruise. “But seriously, you okay?”
I smiled. “I’m fine. I’ve had worse. Remember the time I accidentally tasered myself with my own stun gun?”
He chuckled. “Who could forget, that was epic.”
“Not really, it hurt like a witch. But I didn’t even feel this.”
“Amanda’s going to have a field day,” Ben said.
I rolled my eyes. Of course she is. Every bump, every bruise, every scrape, were all red flags to Amanda. But I know her heart is in the right place. She annoys me so much because she cares.
“Who is she talking to?” Dwight asked Galloway, who shrugged and replied, “herself. She does it all the time, don’t worry about it.”
Dwight didn’t look convinced but eventually shrugged. “If you say so. Can you manage these two while I bring the squad car around?”
“Absolutely.”
The Sheriff left via the back door, and through the wall, I could hear the concert begin to start up again.
“Where’s Ken? Is he okay?”
“Ken’s fine. Henry is with him.” Ben assured me, then attempted to help me to my feet, which was precisely no help at all.
Dusting myself off, I approached the two women. “Okay, spill. Why on earth did you shoot Henry Peterson?”
“Not a word, Elspeth,” Blanche warned.
“We didn’t mean to.” Elspeth blurted.
I blinked in shock. “You didn’t mean to?” I repeated. “Blanche here is a crack shot. She took him out eight hundred yards away, across the ice, direct to the heart. That’s not an “I didn’t mean to” shot.”
“No, I mean, yes, obviously.” Elspeth nodded and shook her head simultaneously, and I feared all her pot-dealing activities had scrambled her brain. Until she said, “Blanche has been suffering flashbacks. Of Vietnam. Sometimes—and I must stress it’s only happened a handful of times—she thinks she’s back in the war.”
I shot a look at Galloway, who was standing behind Blanche. He cocked his head, considering if her story had merit.
“Are you saying that on the morning Henry was shot, she was having one of those flashbacks?”
“Yes! Yes, exactly that. We were out at the cabin getting another batch ready when all of a sudden, she was just… back there. In Vietnam. In the jungle. She snatched up the rifle and was out the door before I could blink.”
“Blanche?” I asked.
“It’s so real,” she whispered, a single tear rolling down her cheek. “The sights, the sounds, the smells. I thought he was the enemy.”
“So this had nothing to do with the fact that Ken Porter had been in the woods the day before taking photographs, and he caught you on your snowmobile, Elspeth?”
“Plenty of people have seen me on my snowmobile. It’s no big secret that I have one.”
“It is a big secret that you have a drug lab in the national park, though, right?” Galloway cut in.
Elspeth blanched and clamped her lips shut.
“What is it you’re cooking out there? Meth?”
Blanche barked out a laugh. “Hardly.”
“Hardly? What then? You may as well tell us, the Sheriff is going to have the lab dismantled and the drugs tested, we’ll find out anyway.”
“It’s Viagra,” Elspeth said, deadpan.
My mouth dropped open. “Wait! You’re producing and selling black-market Viagra?”
“Viagra is the brand name,” Elspeth explained. “Sildenafil is the drug itself.”
“But… why?” I was at a loss. Viagra was readily available from your doctor.
“Some people don’t like answering invasive questions about their sex life with their GP,” Elspeth sniffed. “And I’m a chemist. A retired one. So when… a friend… reached out and asked if I could help him out, I did. And then discovered there was a market for it.”
“Willow Lake doesn’t have a massive male population,” I pointed ou
t.
“It’s not just for men. Women can take it too.”
“Ladies, do you have any idea how dangerous that is? Viagra can affect the heart too.”
“I know. I modified the recipe. Barely any risk if you take my version.”
“But then, why not take your recipe to the pharmaceutical companies? Sell it to them. You’d be rich!”
“Pharmaceutical companies?” Blanche barked, her shout so loud I involuntarily took a step back. “They don’t want to improve the product. Because then they can’t sell you the heart pills to counteract the Viagra pills. That’s how they make their money, keep on selling you more and more medication to counter the side effects of each and every pill you take.”
I didn’t know anything about big pharma or chemistry to know if that were true or not, but still, Elspeth’s lab in the national park producing her own version of the little blue pill seemed high risk to me.
“But you were going to give me an overdose,” I protested. “You were planning on killing me.”
Elspeth’s mouth dropped open, while Blanche remained stoic as if made of stone. “We didn’t intend to kill you!” Elspeth gasped, seemingly horrified at the thought. “If you take too many, they put you to sleep is all. We just needed you out of commission long enough for us to get out to the cabin and dismantle everything before you told the Sheriff.”
“Oh!” Well, that was unexpected. “And Ken? Why were you dragging him back here?”
Blanche frowned. “We weren’t dragging him anywhere. He was coming to pick up his order.”
Oh. My. God. “Ken was buying Viagra? He has a partner?” Why did you ask that, Audrey? I scolded myself. It’s none of your business that Ken Porter was buying homemade Viagra.
“He’s been seeing, Jean,” Elspeth’s smile was wide. “Not that they’ve, you know.” She winked. “But he says things are progressing, and he really likes her, and he wanted a little something on hand just in case he couldn’t—”
“Stop!” I put both hands over my ears, “I don’t want to hear it!”
Blanche and Elspeth exchanged a look. I lowered my hands and frowned. “What about Henry? Was he a customer?”
They both shook their heads. “No, not Henry. And if it's any consolation, this was Ken’s first order.”
Ben, who’d been blessedly silent throughout the whole exchange, slapped his knee and doubled over with laughter. “Oh my God, this is priceless,” he chortled. “Priceless.”
“Glad you’re amused.” I shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to think about old men and Viagra. Ewww.
“Who are you talking to?” Blanche asked, eyes alert and intent, watching my every little movement.
Before I could answer, the back door opened, and the Sheriff reappeared. “Let’s go, ladies. You’ll be spending the night in lock-up before being transported to the next county where you’ll have the pleasure of meeting the judge.”
“Oh, Judge Newman?” Elspeth piped up.
“Don’t tell me, he’s a customer?” Galloway rolled his eyes when Elspeth winked at him. I watched as Galloway and the Sheriff bundled the two women into the back of the squad car. Slamming the doors shut, the Sheriff turned and extended his hand.
“Thanks for your help on this one.”
Galloway shook his hand. “You’re welcome. Audrey here did most of the work, though.”
Dwight looked beyond Galloway to where I was standing in the open doorway. I caught a glimpse of wistfulness in his expression before he schooled his features. “Thanks, Audrey. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas, Dwight,” I replied.
12
“Aunt Aubree,” a chubby set of fingers attempted to pry my good eye open. The other was bruised and swollen from my collision with the floor the previous evening. “You wake?”
“I’m awake, Madeline.” I grinned.
“It’s Cwistmas,” she declared, climbing up onto the bed next to me. “Time for pwesents!”
“Merry Christmas, munchkin!” I sat up, sweeping her up into my arms and making her squeal with laughter as I tickled her belly.
“Come on, come on, mummy’s waiting.” She tugged on my hand, urging me to leave the cozy cocoon of my bed and follow her downstairs. I glanced over at Galloway only to discover he wasn’t there. God, had I overslept? Why hadn’t he woken me?
“Okay, okay.” I let the three-year-old pull me out of bed. She waited impatiently while I pulled on my robe and slippers and then eagerly held my hand to lead me downstairs.
“She’s here!” Madeline announced. “Pwesents now?”
The adults were seated at the dining table, and all heads swiveled in my direction.
“Wow!” Dustin snorted. “That shiner has come up a treat!”
I did a little bow. “Thank you, I aim to please.”
After they’d all fussed over me and my bruised face, we got to the serious business of gift opening. Mom placed a box of Christmas Crackers on the table. “Everyone pull a cracker. And you must wear the hat inside.”
We groaned good-naturedly, but did as instructed, pulling crackers with each other until everyone had a different colored paper crown to wear. Finally, the kids were let loose on their presents, wrapping paper, and ribbon scattered the floor in front of the fireplace, toys, books, and clothes were in abundance this year.
Thor was in his element, stalking beneath the discarded paper, pouncing on the ribbon and taking it into a death roll to kick it into surrender. I’d never seen him exhibit such kittenish behavior before, and it was beyond entertaining to watch. Thor didn’t miss out in the gift department either. He scored four—four—catnip mouse toys. I suspected my cat was going to be stoned out of his little feline mind for most of the day.
Then it was the adults’ turn to open their gifts, with Madeline fetching each colorfully wrapped present from beneath the tree and bringing it to Amanda, who dutifully read the label for her so Madeline could deliver the present to its intended recipient.
Laura loved her fake piercings and immediately attached a hoop to one nostril.
“Hot!” Brad grinned, kissing her cheek, before ripping open one of his bacon bandages and affixing it to his forehead. The kids thought it was hilarious.
Amanda slid her feet into her baguette slippers and did a little catwalk, modeling them to raptus applause, while Dustin eyeballed me with an I’ll get you for this look when he had to pull on his socks with my face all over them.
Somewhat nervously, I turned to Galloway and handed him his present. I’d warned him we exchanged gag gifts, and I really hoped he hadn’t gotten me anything expensive, because my gift to him was about as bargain bin as you could get.
Tearing open the wrapping paper to reveal a white box, he opened the lid, peeked inside, then looked at me. “It’s perfect! How did you know?” He leaned forward and kissed me with my entire family looking on.
“What is it? What did you get?” They asked. Galloway reached into the box and pulled out a smooth rock. He turned it around so they could read what was written on it.
Rock wet – rain
Rock dry – cloudy
Makes shadow – sunny
White – snow
Jumping – earthquake
Gone - tornado
“It’s a weather rock,” he announced, his smile wide, his eyes sparkling.
Putting the rock back into its box, he handed me my present. “I hope you’ll treasure this as much as I’ll treasure my weather rock.”
I grinned and ripped open the paper. Inside was a book. I could pee on this – poems by cats. I laughed with delight and threw my arms around his neck, kissing him. “It’s perfect. You’re perfect. Thank you!”
As more presents were passed around the table, Galloway tugged me to my feet and away from the noise of my family. “I just need you to myself for a minute,” he said, arms pulling me close.
“That’s totally okay with me.” I sank against him, “but it’s only fair I should warn you.”
/>
“Oh?” I felt the kiss he dropped on the top of my head and my heart surged with love for this man.
“I haven't had my coffee yet.”
“I’m surprised you’re even functioning.”
“Right?”
“But seriously,” he pulled away to cup my face in his hands. “Thank you. For being you. For sharing your family with me. For letting me love you.”
The wave of emotion that hit me was unexpected. Tears filled my eyes, happy tears, and I sniffed and blinked at this adorable man. “Ditto,” I said eloquently, and we both laughed and hugged each other tightly. “Also,” he whispered, “I think Ben may have left you something outside. The others haven’t seen it yet.”
Oooh, now I was intrigued. What could Ben have left me? Considering he was incorporeal and couldn’t touch or move anything, to say I was curious was an understatement. “I’ll keep them distracted in here. You go check it out.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, wondering how on earth I’d gotten so lucky to have a man like Kade Galloway in my life? I headed into the kitchen, fixed myself a coffee while Galloway joined the others back at the table and regaled them of stories of his childhood. Galloway’s family had moved to Australia a few years ago, so his last few Christmases had been lonely ones spent alone, usually working to fill the void. But no more. Now he had the Fitzgerald’s.
Pulling on my coat over my dressing gown, I exchanged slippers for boots and, as quietly as possible, slipped outside, taking my coffee with me. Thor slipped out with me, darting between my legs before I knew he was there. I walked along the back porch and looked down, where the words, Merry Christmas, Fitz had been tracked in the snow. I hurried down the stairs, careful not to slip, and stomped through the snow to the message Ben had written to me. But how? I peered closer. Definite boot prints.
“Merry Christmas, Fitz,” Ben said from behind me. I jumped, spilling some of my coffee.
“Dude!” I protested but turned with a smile. “Merry Christmas, Ben.”