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Quiche of Death

Page 18

by Mary Lee Ashford


  She grasped at me but couldn’t get a hold. At the top of the stairs I stopped, took a big breath, and planted my feet.

  Just as I was about to make my move, the front door burst open. It was Sheriff Terry with his weapon drawn. Jezzie turned her gun on him.

  That’s when I gave her a solid push that sent her down the stairs.

  She teetered for a few minutes on those fancy four-inch heels and then down she went. When she reached the bottom, the sheriff kicked the handgun that had fallen with her out of her reach and grabbed her arms, holding her down face-first.

  Thank you, Sheriff Terry. And thank you, Glue Man.

  My knees gave out. I sat down on the stairs and dropped my head in my hands.

  Chapter Nineteen

  I don’t know how long I sat on the stairs, but at some point Lucinda joined me. While I’d been chatting with Mrs. Pickett about leaf bags, she had spotted Jezzie’s car. She had already put together some of the pieces and suspected Jezzie. Not knowing what else to do, she had knocked on Mrs. Pickett’s door and asked to use her phone to call the sheriff.

  I was never going to hear the end of that.

  My driveway was packed with Jameson County Sheriff’s Department cars. I wished they’d turn off their flashing lights. It wasn’t just Mrs. Pickett—the flashing lights had also attracted the attention of most of the neighborhood. Which meant everyone was outside standing on their lawns, trying to figure out what was going on.

  Sheriff Terry must have called both Dixie and Max because they arrived within minutes of each other.

  The stairs were getting kind of crowded. I suggested we move to the living room. Frenchie was huddled in her carrier curled up in the blue knit, the excitement too much for her. I looked around for Ernest and found him under the couch. He eased out and came to make sure I was okay.

  “Was there information in the papers you’d given me?” I eased down on the couch, still a little wobbly. “Jezzie was convinced there was, but was there really?”

  “Actually, there was.” Lucinda dropped into a chair and pushed up the sleeves of her sweatshirt. “I’d found a promissory note that gave my father one half of the company if the sum of five thousand dollars was not paid back. There was a copy in your packet.”

  “What?” I was shocked. She’d said the two family histories seemed to be entwined, but this was mind-boggling.

  “I’d asked Marta about it and she knew Joe, Sr. had borrowed money to expand but didn’t know from whom,” she explained. “My father died suddenly when I was young and apparently he kept lousy records because none of this came to light.”

  “Did Jezzie know?” Max sat beside me on the couch, pushing a couple of the loose pillows behind my back.

  Lucinda hadn’t, to my knowledge, shared any of her discoveries with the rest of the family.

  “She did know.” Lucinda nodded. “Her father had told her and so she knew if I kept digging, there was a good chance I would eventually find enough to, if nothing else, begin to ask questions.”

  “That’s when she decided to kill you and hoped it could be passed off as a hunting accident.” Dixie walked in from the kitchen and handed me a freshly made cup of coffee.

  “You’re the best.” I smiled up at her.

  “Anyone else?” Dixie asked. “Sugar has not a lick of food in there, so I can’t offer you anything to eat. But she has a whole cupboard full of different varieties of coffee and tea. And some gourmet hot chocolate.”

  It was the truth.

  “I’ll take a coffee.” Sheriff Terry had joined us.

  Dixie looked at the rest of the crew.

  Max shook his head.

  “Tea, if you don’t mind,” Lucinda answered. “Any type. Something strong would be great.”

  “You’ve got it.” Dixie exited again.

  “I let your husband know that you’re okay and he’s on his way to get you,” Sheriff Terry said to Lucinda. “The rest of the story, I saved for when he gets here.”

  She nodded and leaned back in the chair, closing her eyes.

  I couldn’t even imagine that conversation.

  Hello, dear. The good news is I’m found and I’m fine. The bad news is your sister tried to kill me.

  Talk about a dysfunctional family. It certainly took the fun out of dysfunctional.

  Dixie was back with coffee for Terry, who I was afraid had a long night ahead. And tea for Lucinda, who was handling it all amazingly well.

  I was doing better. I had begun to get my bearings. I leaned forward and placed my half-empty coffee cup on the table and realized as I did that my other hand was cradled in Max’s.

  The simple gesture was comforting in a way that said far more than words could have.

  Chapter Twenty

  Dixie and I had delivered the final copies of the Arbor family cookbook to the family at Arbor House that afternoon. After all that had happened, being there again was both a bit disconcerting and strangely comforting. It was like everything had come full circle. A lot of questions had been answered. The cookbook project was complete and we’d brought enough copies for everyone.

  With Jezzie’s arrest the family had made the decision to leave the group photo out of the book. Instead we included several candid shots Max had taken during his visit.

  Theo hadn’t been present when we dropped off the cookbooks. He’d decided to get back to his life in Chicago and Gwen told us he’d agreed to work with a grief counselor. Not surprisingly, Tom also was missing. It turned out he had filed for divorce from Jezzie prior to the original family get-together and had agreed to attend only because she didn’t want the rest of the family to know.

  The rest of the family was picking up the pieces and holding on to each other. J.J. and Lucinda, Jonathan and Gwen, Marta, and in the strangest development of all, Hilda.

  Jezzie had been concentrating on Lucinda and the information she had found showing an outstanding promissory note against the company, perhaps changing the balance of power. But there had been another wrinkle in her plans to expand.

  Unbeknown to the others in the family, Jonathan and Gwen had done a DNA test a couple of years earlier and so his DNA was in the database. Hilda had recently done a test at the urging of her daughter and it had shown a match.

  With Jonathan Arbor. A strong match.

  Hilda wasn’t just an Arbor relative; she was a half-sibling.

  Many years ago, Joe, Sr. had an affair with Hilda’s mother. But, as Hilda had told me, her mother died when she was very young, and her father shortly thereafter. And she was adopted by the Gentry family.

  Marta had known about the affair and had suspected there was a child who she figured would one day contact the family. She hadn’t realized that child was right under their noses.

  I wasn’t sure what that meant in terms of sharing the family fortune, but I’d bet it meant Hilda could get those corns fixed.

  * * * *

  After we had delivered the cookbooks, I dropped Dixie back at the office to pick up her car. I had one more thing to take care of.

  I had contacted Libby, Colette’s—or rather Amy’s—sister, about Frenchie. She lived in an apartment that didn’t allow pets and had no interest in the dog. She had asked if I could help with re-homing the pup and I’d found the perfect solution.

  I stopped at home and gathered up Frenchie’s toys. Tucking her into the carrier with the remaining ragged section of blue sweater, I patted her head.

  “You can come back for a visit anytime,” I promised.

  She gave a small woof of approval.

  Ernest meowed from the stairs.

  “She can.” I pointed a finger at him. “And you will be a welcoming host.”

  His tail swish said he understood, but didn’t necessarily agree.

  Carrying the small pink kennel to my car, I strapped her in
and turned the Jeep toward the Good Life retirement complex.

  Greer and Frenchie were perfect for each other.

  “You two will be family,” I told her.

  Families. In the words of the philosopher, Hilda, “Sometimes you’re born to them, sometimes you create them.”

  Recipes

  The Arbor Family’s Famous Quiche Lorraine

  Crust

  1 cup all-purpose flour

  1/4 teaspoon salt

  1/3 cup cold butter, cut into chunks

  3–4 tablespoons cold water

  Filling

  8 slices crisply cooked bacon, crumbled

  1/3 cup chopped onion

  4 ounces (1 cup) shredded Swiss cheese

  2 cups half-and-half

  4 eggs

  1/4 teaspoon salt

  1/8 teaspoon pepper

  1/8 teaspoon ground nutmeg

  Dash of hot pepper sauce, if desired

  Preparation

  1. Heat oven to 375°F.

  2. Combine flour and 1/4 teaspoon salt in bowl; cut in butter with pastry blender or fork until mixture resembles coarse crumbs. Stir in enough water with fork; just until flour is moistened. Shape dough into a ball; flatten slightly.

  3. Roll out dough on lightly floured surface into 12-inch circle. Fold into quarters. Carefully place pastry into ungreased 9-inch glass pie pan. Carefully unfold pastry, pressing firmly against bottom and sides of pie pan. Trim crust to 1/2 inch from edge of pan. Crimp or flute edge.

  4. Sprinkle bacon onto crust; top with onion and cheese. Combine all remaining filling ingredients in bowl; beat with whisk until well mixed. Pour over cheese in pan.

  5. Bake 40–45 minutes or until center is set. Let stand 10 minutes before cutting.

  Hilda’s No-Fail Banana Bread

  Ingredients

  1 stick butter

  3 large ripe bananas

  2 large eggs

  1 teaspoon vanilla extract

  2 cups all-purpose flour

  1 cup granulated sugar

  1 teaspoon baking soda

  1/2 teaspoon salt

  1/2 teaspoon cinnamon

  Preparation

  Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Spray a loaf pan with nonstick cooking spray or grease with butter and set aside.

  Add the stick of butter to a large bowl and microwave for 1 minute, or until melted.

  Add the bananas to the same bowl and mash with a fork.

  Add the vanilla extract and egg to the bowl and use the same fork to mash and stir until no yellow streaks of egg remain.

  In a second large bowl whisk together the flour, sugar, baking soda, salt, and cinnamon.

  Add the dry ingredients to the wet ingredients and mix together with a spatula just until combined.

  Pour the batter into prepared loaf pan and bake for 45–55 minutes until a toothpick inserted in the center of the bread comes out clean.

  Greer Gooder’s Chicken Salad

  Ingredients

  2 large boneless, skinless chicken breasts cooked, chilled for a bit, and diced.

  1 cup chopped celery

  1 1/2 cups halved seedless red grapes

  2–3 green onions, chopped

  1 cup mayonnaise

  1/2 cup sour cream

  1 tablespoon lemon juice

  1 teaspoon prepared yellow mustard

  2 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

  1/2 teaspoon dried dill weed

  1/2 teaspoon onion powder

  1/2 teaspoon garlic powder

  1 teaspoon sugar

  1/2 teaspoon salt

  1/2 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

  1/4 cup sliced almonds

  Preparation

  1. Place the diced chicken, celery, green onions and grapes in a large mixing bowl and stir to combine.

  2. In a separate bowl, stir together the remaining ingredients (except for the almonds) until well mixed. Pour the mixture over the chicken salad and stir, making sure the chicken is thoroughly coated.

  3. Cover and chill for at least two hours.

  4. Sprinkle a few almonds on the chicken salad just before serving.

  5. Greer serves her chicken salad on croissants, but you can use sandwich bread or wraps just as easily. Or if you’ve watching your carbs, it’s also good on a bed of butter lettuce.

  Acknowledgments

  A book is always a project of the heart and this series, set in my home state, has allowed me to explore some places and emotions I hadn’t visited in a long time. As Sugar learns in the story, sometimes you find family in unusual places.

  A huge thank-you to my sisters of the heart and critique group: Tami, Cindy, Chris, and Anita. You are the best!

  Love and bushels of thanks to my family for your love and understanding.

  As always, to my editor John Scognamiglio and the dedicated crew at Kensington—thank you for your awesomeness. Your talents and expertise always make my story and my vision a much better book.

  Super-agent Christine Witthohn, your belief in me keeps me going. You rock.

  And last but never least, dear readers, you are the reason any of us storytellers write books.

  Thank you for your notes and emails that tell me Sugar, Dixie, and all the St. Ignatius residents come alive for you. I love that you love them and I love to hear from you!

  You can reach me through my website at: MaryLeeAshford.com

  And if you sign up for my newsletter, you’ll always be up-to-date on the latest news!

 

 

 


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