Ink and Shadows

by Ellery Adams

  “Hey, now! I’m going to Jack’s after this, and I want to look like Queen Elizabeth, not Ms. Frizzle.”

  Sheldon poked his head into the room. “Estella, corazón, I haven’t opened a Magic School Bus book in years, but I still have a crush on Ms. Frizzle. Come in here and give me a hand. The rest of you should sit down and get ready for the parade of Cuban dishes!”

  Sheldon pressed a button on his smartphone and salsa music danced out of the portable speakers in June’s dining room.

  “We begin with mojitos and fried plantains!” he announced.

  Estella carried a heavy pitcher garnished with mint leaves into the room. Sheldon was right behind her, balancing a tray of empty glasses in one hand and a platter of sweet fried plantains in the other.

  Sheldon pulled out a chair for Estella and said, “No more work for you, Fancy Nancy. I’ve got it from here.”

  He hustled back into the kitchen and reappeared with a bowl of avocado salad and a basket of Cuban bread. On his third trip to retrieve food, he danced a salsa, whistling as he swung his hips from side to side.

  Nora smiled in relief. If Sheldon was cooking, whistling, and dancing, then he wasn’t that angry.

  “Our star attractions for tonight are Arroz con Pollo—that’s rice and chicken for you non-Spanish speakers—and Lechon Asado, the food of the gods. Or, in simple terms, Mojo Marinated Pork.”

  “Everything looks and smells beautiful, Sheldon,” Hester said. “This must have taken you all day.”

  June gazed at her roommate with pride. “He was already at it when I left for church, and I went to the early service. I invited Dominique to come with me, and she brought her whole family. And her family can sing! Lord, but we had fun. Anyway, when I got back home, the front porch was full of cats. I’ve never heard such yowling and carrying on.”

  “They’re my backup singers,” Sheldon explained. “My papa always said that if you sing while you cook, your food will taste like music in people’s mouths.”

  Nora picked up her mojito glass. “To our chef, for creating this amazing meal. Not only does he give the best bear hugs and channel Clint Eastwood’s Dirty Harry in his sweater vests, but he also makes life better for everyone who walks into Miracle Books. Including me. To Sheldon!”

  The rest of the women toasted Sheldon. He stood up, put one hand on his belly, and bowed. After returning to his seat, he told everyone to start passing dishes.

  He scooped fried plantains onto Nora’s plate before serving himself. “Heroes do better with a partner.” He offered the platter to June but kept his eyes on Nora. “Holmes didn’t need help solving cases. He needed Watson’s friendship. Poirot needed Hastings. Monk needed Natalie. You need me. I’m your Robin, so you should tell me when you’re transforming into Batman. I could get the wrinkles out of your cape. Shine your boots. Warm up the Batmobile.”

  “Batman kept things from Robin all the time. For his own safety.” Nora handed Sheldon the avocado salad.

  Sheldon scowled. “I have chronic pain, but I’m not made of glass.”

  “Are you going to sulk through the whole meal?” June asked, holding the breadbasket aloft. “Because if you are, I’ll take my plate of gorgeous food into the kitchen where I can eat in peace.”

  “You can’t go anywhere. I want to hear what Hester has to say almost as much as I want to shovel this Arroz con Pollo into my mouth.” Estella looked at Sheldon. “What makes the rice yellow?”

  “Cumin and saffron. It’s the ultimate comfort food. My abuela made it whenever she came to visit. All in one pot.” Sheldon’s face softened at the memory. “She would have loved everyone at this table.”

  June picked up her glass. “To Abuela!”

  After the toast, everyone began to eat. As his friends tried every dish, Sheldon received round upon round of praise. When he’d finally heard enough, he asked Hester to tell them about the investigation.

  Hester raised a finger. “Before I get to Beck, I want you all to know that Lazarus Harper has been helping me at the bakery.”

  Forks hung in the air. Everyone stopped chewing.

  “It’s only temporary,” Hester went on. “After he pays his legal fees and covers the cost of the mirrors he knocked off of those two parked cars, he’ll head back to Pine Hollow. His civil case has finally been rescheduled, and now that Beck’s admitted to selling untested CBD products to Mr. Harper and lots of other people, I believe Lazarus is feeling like a new man.”

  Sheldon groaned. “Please tell me that wasn’t a risen-from-the-dead reference.”

  Hester laughed. “It was bad, wasn’t it? Okay, on to the serious stuff, starting with the contents of Beck’s pockets. The biggest shocker was the flask of homemade chloroform. He soaked a bandana with it in the front of the bookstore and walked back to the ticket agent’s office. That’s when Sheriff McCabe came up behind him and put the kibosh on his Knockout Nora plan.”

  Sheldon raised a brow. “Homemade chloroform? That’s a thing?”

  Before Hester could answer, Estella said, “It’s basically chilled bleach combined with acetone. Next to history, chemistry was my favorite subject in school.”

  “And you’re an artist by trade,” said Nora.

  Estella beamed. “You just earned a free conditioning treatment the next time you come in for a color and cut.”

  “What else did Beck have in his pockets?” June asked Hester.

  “A murder weapon.” Hester paused for dramatic effect. “After drugging Nora, Beck was going to inject her with liquified wolfsbane. He had a syringe loaded with the stuff. It’s probably the same syringe he used on Celeste. The ME must have missed the injection site.”

  Nora remembered the bruises on Celeste’s cheeks and found that she was no longer hungry. “He didn’t miss it. Beck must have forced Celeste’s mouth open and shot the wolfsbane down her throat. He offered her the mustard powder because she swallowed wolfsbane. There was no obvious injection site or evidence that she’d had anything to eat or drink.”

  A hush fell over the table, and Nora apologized for ruining the mood.

  “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Sheldon told her. “None of you do. Unless you don’t finish what’s on your plates. That would be unforgivable. Keep going, Hester. We need to get to the end of this story. We need to know that the good guys win.”

  There was a murmur of agreement from everyone else, and Hester promised to continue after another bite of pork. She then tore a piece of bread in two and stacked the pieces on top of each other. “Imagine this was Bren’s burger from the night of the festival. A bean patty in a bun. If it looked different, Bren would have noticed. If the texture was off, Bren would have noticed. But what wouldn’t have made her suspicious was a sprinkling of what looked like salt on both her burger and fries.”

  “What looks like salt? Superfine sugar?” Estella guessed. “No, that wouldn’t trigger Bren’s allergy.”

  “It had to be some kind of red meat. Like beef bouillon granules,” said Nora.

  June shook her head. “Ketchup, mustard, relish—I don’t think they could mask the flavor of beef broth. Not enough, anyway.”

  “Which is why Beck had to find a tasteless supplement made of freeze-dried organ meats,” said Hester. “He ground up some pills and sprinkled them on Bren’s food. Jasper found the pill bottle in a bag in the trunk of Beck’s rental car. The bottle cost him thirty bucks, which is why he didn’t throw it out. He’s actually been taking the rest of the supplements.”

  Sheldon rolled his eyes. “Waste not, want not.”

  Hester was still looking at June. “That Friday night you and Nora saw Bren being sick? That was the result of Beck testing out the effectiveness of the pills. He knew which foods Bren liked, so when he left a gift basket full of snacks at Soothe’s back door with a note that said ‘Watson Realty welcomes you to Miracle Springs. Call us for all of your housing needs,’ neither Bren nor Celeste batted an eye. Bren ate the oversized pretzel, just like Beck knew she
would, and five hours later, she was sick.”

  “That’s seriously twisted.” Nora met June’s eyes. She knew that her friend remembered their interaction with Bren as if it had happened yesterday.

  “That’s why she was so upset,” June said. “It had nothing to do with us. Bren’s warning bells were telling her that Wolf Beck had tracked them to Miracle Springs. He must have showed up at her place later on, asking for Juliana’s book. If only she’d told her mama, they might both be alive.”

  “Why didn’t she just give the maniac the book?” Estella cried.

  Hester shook her head. “She told Beck that her mother hid it before they moved. She had no idea it was inside the mushroom table, and she was furious at Celeste for keeping the hiding place secret. At least, that’s what Beck says.”

  He lies.

  Celeste’s voice was a faint whisper in Nora’s mind. It seemed fitting that she was present at this table. If only in memory.

  There was a stretch of silence before June asked, “Any other sinister stuff in Beck’s pockets?”

  Hester speared a plantain with her fork. “His envelope of cash was full of counterfeit bills. The murder case might be complicated, but the penalty for passing counterfeit money is very straightforward. He swears this is the first and only time he’s committed this particular crime, but once is enough. Beck is screwed.”

  “Wolf Beck, Maestro of Forgery.” Nora’s tone was acerbic. “Grimoires, money, CBD oil. What else? Paintings by the Old Masters?” Picking up Sheldon’s glass, she gulped down the rest of his mojito.

  Estella nudged Hester. “Fast-forward to the happy ending, would ya? Tell us the bastard made a full confession or, better yet, his fake spells worked, and a bunch of demons dragged him straight to Hell.”

  “He’ll have a long pit stop in prison first.” Hester’s eyes were on Nora. “Sheriff McCabe is looking at Beck’s financial records, and Jasper’s reviewing his online history. Fuentes and Wiggins went over every inch of his rental car. They have bags of incriminating evidence. I don’t know every detail, but I know they’ve found the organ meat supplements, a jar of mustard powder, and some dried wolfsbane leaves. They also found a pair of hiking boots in the back seat. The crevices in the out-soles are jam-packed with trace bits of food, soil, and glass from Celeste’s apartment.”

  “So the good guys are going to win?” Sheldon asked.

  Hester’s smile lit up the room. “The good guys are going to win.”

  Though tears pricked Nora’s eyes, she really, really didn’t want to cry. She didn’t want to spoil Sheldon’s beautiful meal, so she grabbed his hand. She then reached for June’s hand, and suddenly, everyone at the table was holding hands.

  The five of them sat like that, holding hands and fighting back tears, to the accompaniment of an extremely upbeat salsa song.

  The scene was so ridiculous that Nora started to laugh. Her friends, encouraged by mojitos and the news that justice would prevail, joined in. The outburst didn’t last long, but the laughter lingered in the air like a bouquet of birthday balloons.

  Glancing around at her friends, Nora said, “Have I told you lately that I love you?”

  Sheldon threw out his arms in exasperation. “You can’t say that! You haven’t even seen what I made for dessert.”

  “We should clean up our dinner plates first,” Hester suggested. “Make some room on the table. And in our bellies.”

  Estella loaded her arms with bowls and platters. “I hope our dessert is Cuban too.”

  “I don’t have Hester’s touch when it comes to sugary treats, but I make a mean guava cheesecake.”

  Estella and June moaned in unison, eliciting another round of laughter.

  “There’s something else we need to do tonight,” Nora said as she followed her friends into the kitchen.

  They all turned to face her.

  “No need to look so serious,” she said. “We just need to vote on our next book pick.”

  Sheldon waved her off. “You can do that without me.”

  “Actually, we can’t,” Nora argued. “It’ll be the first read of a brand-new book club. And you’re leading it.”

  “Me?” Sheldon put his hand over his heart. “Really?”

  Nora smiled at her friend. “The Blind Date Book Club will be a night out for book lovers looking to connect with other book lovers on a platonic level. I thought we’d close early the first Thursday of each month. That evening would be reserved for your book club.”

  “My book club,” Sheldon repeated in a reverent whisper.

  “Is that a yes?” Nora asked.

  Sheldon glowed like a star. “I’ve been waiting for a proposal like this my whole life. Yes, Nora Pennington, I will lead this book club.”

  The women cheered and Sheldon gave them all fervent kisses on both cheeks. He then opened a drawer and grabbed a handful of forks. “Come on, lovelies. Let’s dig into this cheesecake and talk about fun stuff. Food and friends and . . .” He gestured at Nora, inviting her to finish his thought.

  She did so with pleasure. “Books.”

  Chapter 20

  Friendship is the only cement that will ever hold the world together.

  —Woodrow Wilson

  The following Sunday, Nora met her friends at the entrance to Woodland Cemetery. June had invited Dominique to come along, and Estella had brought Jack. Sheldon had an arm slung around Hester, who was shivering.

  That morning, everyone had pulled long coats, hats, and gloves from their closets. The ground had been frost-kissed, and the air that swept down from the mountains was so cold that it stung. By midafternoon, the temperature had dipped even lower and the sky had taken on a winter cast.

  “Smells like snow,” June said, winding her knit scarf tighter around her throat.

  Sheldon glanced up at the sky in horror. “Does that happen in November here?”

  “No,” Nora assured him. “We’re lucky if we get a white Christmas. Most of our ice and snow starts in January.”

  “Lord, I hate the cold,” groaned Sheldon. “I’m going to spend the winter in bed, reading and becoming even more pleasantly plump. You’ll have to hire seasonal help, Nora. This bear’s about to hibernate.”

  Nora shook her head. “You can’t leave. Not ever. Without you, I’d forget how to smile.”

  Pleased, Sheldon turned toward the road.

  “Here she comes,” he whispered.

  A small parade of vehicles approached the cemetery. Sheriff McCabe’s cruiser came first, followed by a flatbed truck. Deputy Andrews, also in an official vehicle, came next. Jed brought up the rear in his Blazer. Two dog heads stuck out through the rear windows. Atticus, the Doberman K-9 unit trained by Deputy Wiggins, was on the passenger side and Henry Higgins was on the driver’s side. Both dogs sniffed the air in anticipation. Jed blew Nora a kiss before parking the truck with the rest of the vehicles.

  “You guys doing okay?” Hester asked Nora.

  “Yeah, we are,” Nora said. “We both went through a tough time at the same time. And being apart made it harder to, I don’t know, cope? Stay connected? As much as I love words, they don’t always cut it. There are times when you need to be with people. You need to be able to touch them. To look at their faces and into their eyes. To see their body language—”

  “We’d better move our bodies before we turn into Popsicle people,” Sheldon interrupted. “I’m glad you and your man are back on track, and I hope he doesn’t get jealous when I snuggle up to you for warmth.”

  Nora laughed as Sheldon pulled her in for a one-armed hug.

  “Is that half a bear hug?”

  “That’s all this polar bear can manage. Get me inside and feed me a warm honey cake, and I’ll turn back into Winnie-the-Pooh.”

  Hester waved them on. “Come on! They’re already unloading the angel.”

  Two men in coveralls and barn coats stood behind the flatbed truck and began the slow process of hoisting the Juliana statue into the air. Shrouded
in bubble wrap and moving blankets, Celeste’s sculpture looked colossal. No one spoke as the men used an automated hoist and pulley system to lower her toward the marble base behind Bren’s and Celeste’s gravestones.

  When Juliana was hovering inches above the layer of sticky white epoxy on the base, the men paused the hoist and gently peeled away her protective layers.

  With this done, the older man looked at Nora. “You want her facing the graves, right?”

  “Yes, like she’s watching over them,” Nora said.

  The men carefully lowered the statue the rest of the way. Satisfied that she was secure, they moved away to confer with the cemetery’s caretaker.

  Hester reached into her tote bag and withdrew a bundle of daisy crowns she’d made from grocery store flowers. They weren’t wildflowers like the ones Bren would have used, but they were still lovely, and Nora took the crown Hester offered her with a grateful smile.

  After removing her gloves, Nora placed her crown on Celeste’s stone. Her fingers traced the engraved letters of her real name, Cecily, followed by her Miracle Springs name, Celeste, in parentheses. The stone was cold, and the wind curled the petals of the daisies inward, concealing their yellow faces.

  Nora stood up and pulled a piece of paper from her coat pocket. As her friends gathered in a tight cluster around her, she began to read Mary Oliver’s “Daisies” poem.

  One by one, the attendees stepped forward to place a flower crown on Bren’s or Celeste’s stone. When it was the sheriff’s turn, he knelt beside Celeste’s grave with nothing in his hands.

  Pressing his palm against the stone, he said, “Rest easy now. Your book is safe.”

  Like his deputies, the sheriff was in full dress uniform, and the sight of him kneeling in the brittle grass, addressing a member of his community as if she were still alive, brought tears to Nora’s eyes.

  The words printed on her page blurred and she struggled to find her place.

  “ ‘The white petalled daisies display/the small suns of their center piece, their—if you don’t/mind my saying so—their hearts,’ ” she read.