Death of a Wicked Witch

Home > Other > Death of a Wicked Witch > Page 8
Death of a Wicked Witch Page 8

by Lee Hollis


  The soldier stepped forward, brandishing a fake rifle, but it was made of strong metal and he used the butt of it to repeatedly hit the padlock that secured the two doors in the back. He tried several times to bust it open, but to no avail.

  “Quick, break the window!”

  The soldier raced around to the driver’s side of the truck and raised the butt of the rifle, smashing it against the glass. After two tries, the glass shattered, allowing him to reach inside and unlock the door.

  Hayley pushed past him, climbing into the truck where she was suddenly overcome with choking fumes. She covered her face with the long flowing sleeves of her costume, and managed to crawl into the back to the kitchen where she felt around for some kind of switch that would open the metal security gate covering the serving window. She was nearly overcome herself by the heavy fumes and suddenly felt light-headed, but finally located a key on the wall that she cranked quickly to the right. The heavy metal gate slowly began to squeak open and light from a nearby streetlamp flooded into the truck.

  Hayley gasped, choking on gas fumes, still covering her nose and mouth, as her eyes fell upon Trudy Lancaster sprawled out on the floor of her food truck, dressed in the same costume as Hayley from The Wizard of Oz.

  The Stargate soldier climbed into the truck behind Hayley and stared slack-jawed at the body. Unfortunately it was at that moment when he spoke aloud for everyone outside to hear the first thought to pop into his mind. “Ding-dong, the witch is dead.”

  Island Food & Spirits

  BY

  HAYLEY POWELL

  I recently got together with my two BFFs Mona and Liddy at Liddy’s house for one of our twice-monthly “catch-up dinners” where we all bring each other up to speed on the latest goings-on in our lives and, of course, all the latest gossip burning up town. It’s always a fun, laugh-filled gathering, and I have to admit, Liddy outdid herself serving us Godiva Chocolate Martinis followed by some mouth-watering Slow Cooker Pulled Pork Cuban Sandwiches. I was so stuffed I could barely get up from the table once we finally decided to call it a night. Luckily, Liddy agreed to allow me to share both recipes with you this week!

  Since we’re right in the thick of October, the hot topic at this particular “catch-up dinner” was Halloween, and what we all would be wearing to the annual Witches Ball. Mona, who hates to dress up in a costume let alone a dress of any kind, had no intention of going and abstained from the conversation. But once we began reminiscing about Halloweens gone by, she deigned to rejoin the conversation. Especially when Liddy brought up one memorable Halloween memory I would just as soon forget!

  It’s no secret that Halloween has always been my ex-husband Danny’s favorite holiday. It takes him back to the time when he was a kid. But let me tell you, it’s not a very long trip since Danny has always had major maturity issues! Anyway, I should stay positive. Danny always loved playing a good Halloween trick to scare me, but he always seemed to be disappointed when he didn’t get the reaction he expected. Mostly because I was usually ready for him to pull some kind of silly stunt and mentally prepared myself. But one year, Danny felt he had come up with a masterful plan to scare the living daylights out of me, and he was downright giddy as he set the wheels in motion.

  Danny had a buddy, Al, who worked at the high school in the drama department doing makeup and special effects for all the theater productions, and so Danny bribed him with a six-pack of Michelob to come over to our house while I was at work on Halloween day, and use his stage makeup to turn Danny into a terrifying corpse worthy of an R-rated horror film! There was plenty of fake blood and gobs of flesh all over him, but the crowning glory was the fake organs and guts Al managed to attach to Danny’s stomach so it looked like some marauding killer had essentially gutted him with a hunting knife! The idea was, Danny would lie down on the kitchen floor in a pool of blood, with all the gore and guts spilling out of him, and when I walked in and saw his cold, dead eyes staring up at me, it would scare the bejesus out of me! As I stood there screaming bloody murder, he’d pop up to his feet and yell in his typical charming tone, “Trick or Treat, babe!”

  Well, lucky for me, Al’s wife, Susan, got wind of this treacherous plot, and was so afraid I might die of fright she drove right over to the Island Times office and gave me a heads-up. I was mortified that our husbands were so willfully and blithely planning to scare me to death! After all, there are a few weak hearts in the family, so who could say if I was actually a time bomb walking around waiting for a little stress to set it off? Danny’s little “harmless” prank might have literally killed me!

  Susan and I decided to formulate our own plan. Susan went to her husband’s theater prop box he kept in the basement and got one of the fake stage knives. You know, the kind of knife that retracts into the handle upon contact so it only looks like you’re actually stabbing someone. Well, I was going to hide it in my utensil drawer so when I walked in and saw Danny lying dead on the floor, I would run and grab it, stand over Danny, profess my undying love and how I couldn’t fathom carrying on without him, and then I would plunge the knife into my heart and sink to the floor, pretend to die, and wait for Danny’s reaction. My husband was about to get a little taste of his own medicine.

  Well, on Halloween after I got home from work, I nervously walked up the deck steps and through the kitchen door at the allotted time I was supposed to discover “the body.” I actually did gasp out loud at the sight of Danny lying on the floor, soaked in all that fake blood. It looked so real! I had to commend the bang-up job Al had done. I quickly tried channeling my best Meryl Streep, and let out a proper bloodcurdling scream. I rushed to Danny and kneeled down, wailing, “Why? Why? Why?” Danny’s eyes were shut tight but I could almost see a smirk on his face as he listened to me loudly lamenting his death. I raced to the utensil drawer, found the correct knife (at least I hoped it was the correct one), and with great fanfare plunged it into my chest. Then, in full Oscar-worthy performance mode (at least in my mind), I dramatically sank to the floor and slowly died.

  I had one eye open as I saw Danny trying to figure out what I had just done, but before either of us could sit up, an ear-splitting scream startled us both. I glanced over to see our elderly widow neighbor Ms. Millie standing in the doorway to the kitchen, eyes popped open, mouth ajar, staring at our “corpses.” She must have heard my screaming and crying all the way next door and come over to investigate. Before I could assure her everything was fine, she clutched her heart and fainted dead away.

  Danny, realizing his joke had taken an unexpected turn, tried getting up but slipped on the fake blood and fell back down again, landing hard on his butt. I crawled on my hands and knees over to Ms. Millie’s prone body, praying she hadn’t had a heart attack, and shook her, hoping to revive her.

  That’s about the time we heard sirens and two police cruisers screeching into our driveway. Apparently upon hearing my scream, a startled Ms. Millie had time to call 911 before racing across the street to see if we were still alive.

  Thankfully, Ms. Millie was roused with some smelling salts, and I’m happy to say her heart was just fine. As for me and Danny, we just received a very stern warning from the police that perhaps it was in our best interest that we tone down our Halloween hijinks in the coming years.

  That was one Halloween for the record books, or at least the police blotter!

  As promised, here is how you can indulge in a chocolate martini and a slow-cooked Cuban sandwich that will warm up any chilly Halloween night. So when it comes to trick or treat, definitely choose these treats!

  GODIVA CHOCOLATE MARTINI

  INGREDIENTS

  2 ounces vanilla vodka

  1.2 ounces crème de cacao

  1 ounce Godiva chocolate liqueur

  Optional: shaved chocolate

  Use a chilled martini glass from the freezer.

  Fill the cocktail shaker half full of ice.

  Add the vanilla vodka, crème de cacao and Godiva chocolate liqueur to the co
cktail shaker.

  Shake well and strain into the chilled martini glass and top with shaved chocolate.

  SLOW COOKER CUBAN SANDWICHES

  INGREDIENTS

  For the marinade and pork

  4-pound pork shoulder

  ½ cup orange juice

  ¼ cup lime juice

  4 garlic cloves, minced

  2 teaspoons cumin

  2 teaspoons dried oregano

  ½ teaspoon red pepper flakes

  2 bay leaves

  ½ tablespoon kosher salt

  ½ tablespoon fresh ground black pepper

  2 tablespoons olive oil

  To build the sandwich

  4 Cuban rolls (I use Italian rolls when I can’t find

  Cuban)

  12 slices of ham

  16 slices Swiss cheese

  8 long-sliced pickles

  For the bread spread

  4 tablespoons butter

  ½ teaspoon garlic powder

  Cut your pork shoulder in 4 quarters and put in a large slow cooker.

  Add the marinade ingredients and combine well. Cover and cook on low for 6 to 8 hours until fork-tender and can be shredded.

  Shred the meat using two forks.

  In a small saucepan melt the butter and garlic powder and brush it on both sides of the bread.

  To assemble your sandwich, spread mustard on the bottom of the bread, then layer 2 slices of Swiss cheese, 3 slices of ham, a nice helping of pulled pork, and 2 pickle slices, and top with 2 more slices of cheese and add top bun.

  Place into a panini press until golden brown.

  Note: I use a griddle and place my sandwich on it and then press a heavy cast-iron pan on top, brown one side, flip over and brown the other. When golden brown, it is done.

  This makes enough pork for more sandwiches, and feel free to use as much ham, cheese, and pork that suits your preference.

  Chapter 16

  “According to the autopsy report, she died from acute carbon monoxide intoxication,” Sergio Alvarez said before shoveling a forkful of Hayley’s homemade lasagna into his mouth while sitting at her dining room table next to his husband, Randy, who was still working on his Caesar salad.

  It had been two days since Hayley had discovered the body of Trudy Lancaster in her food truck, and her sudden death was all anyone in Bar Harbor was talking about.

  Hayley would have been lying if she said that her dinner invitation to her brother and his police chief husband had been out of a desire for some quality family time together. No, she had a burning need to know what was going on with the investigation, and by promising Sergio that she would make his favorite dinner, a meat lasagna with Caesar salad and her buttery garlic bread—which he reliably used to sop up the remainder of the spicy marinara sauce on his plate— there was little doubt in her mind that they would readily accept the invite and head right over at the usual time of six o’clock.

  Hayley had politely waited until after they had finished their first glass of Pinot Noir and made most of their way through the salad course. In fact, when Sergio speared the last crouton on his plate and popped it into his mouth, Hayley had already shot up from the table and was using a spatula to cut the first generous piece of Sergio’s usual three helpings of lasagna, delivering it to him and taking her seat back down at the table where everyone else—Bruce, Randy, Gemma, and Conner—were all still slowly eating their Caesar salad. She waited until Sergio had taken his first bite of the piping hot lasagna before casually asking what was going on with the Trudy Lancaster case, and that’s when Sergio happily complied and freely offered the cause of death.

  Everyone at the table now felt free to pepper Sergio with a series of follow-up questions.

  “So was it an accident or suicide or foul play?” Gemma asked, curious.

  Sergio shrugged. “We still don’t know. Boy, Hayley, I have to say, you’ve really outdone yourself this time. Your lasagna is spicier than usual.”

  “I added a little crushed red pepper to the sauce to give it a little extra kick,” Hayley said, quietly frustrated that Sergio seemed to want to change the subject.

  Hayley opened her mouth to spew out a slew of questions related to the autopsy report when Conner interrupted her.

  “Hayley, could you pass the garlic bread?”

  Hayley turned to him, grimacing. He gave her an apologetic shrug and pointed to his arm in the sling, which prevented him from reaching across the table and grabbing the basket himself. She smiled and nodded, and then practically tossed the basket at him. He squinted, fearing it might hit him in the face, before catching it with his free hand and setting it back down on the table in front of him. He carefully chose a hunk and took a bite, chewing and savoring it.

  “Was something wrong with the grill’s propane tank?” Hayley asked.

  “Hayley, I have to say, this is the best garlic bread I’ve ever tasted, and I spent a summer in Italy during my gap year between high school graduation and college,” Conner said after swallowing.

  “Thank you, Conner,” Hayley said with a thin smile before turning back to Sergio. Before she could speak, however, Gemma opened her mouth first.

  “I didn’t know you took a gap year. Did you travel all over Europe or just Italy?”

  Hayley dropped her fork, irritated, as the conversation seemed to have taken a sharp turn away from Trudy Lancaster.

  “I spent most of it in Italy, I taught English at a middle school in Perugia.”

  “Where is that exactly?” Bruce asked, not helping at all.

  “Central Italy. In the Umbria region.” Conner said.

  Hayley turned to see Sergio, almost done with his first serving of lasagna. She tried to get the dinner discussion back on track. “I just find it strange that Trudy’s truck was locked up with the windows shut tight and the security gate down. I mean, she was there to serve the Garbers’ guests. Why didn’t she open the windows while she was preparing the food?”

  “Beats me,” Sergio said, shrugging with his mouth full.

  “Perugia... Isn’t that the area where the Amanda Knox murder case happened?” Randy asked.

  Conner nodded. “Yes, the trial was still happening when I was there. Every day when I walked to the school, I would see the international press buzzing outside the courthouse. It was utter madness.”

  Hayley wanted to swat her brother with her napkin for changing the subject back to Italy and the sensational murder trial of an American college student convicted in 2009 of killing her roommate with the help of her Italian boyfriend at the time. After a yearlong trial, faulty evidence, and a corrupt prosecutor, the court reversed the conviction in 2011 and she was ultimately acquitted. But Hayley hardly wanted to spend the meal discussing a decade old scandal that was long over. Amanda Knox was back home in Seattle safe and sound. Trudy Lancaster’s death was far more relevant and important, at least in the town of Bar Harbor and at this dinner table.

  “Well, I’m sure Trudy Lancaster’s death won’t garner near as much attention,” Hayley said, hoping to steer the conversation back to her preferred topic.

  There was a lull in the conversation as Sergio finished his first serving of lasagna, sopping up the leftover sauce with the bread, while everyone else polished off the rest of their salads and sat expectantly waiting to be served their main course.

  Finally, with Hayley’s mind clearly elsewhere, Gemma stood up from the table. “You sit, Mom, I’ll serve.”

  Snapping out of her thoughts, Hayley looked around to see everyone’s empty plates. “Oh, I’m sorry, Gemma, no, I can do it.”

  Hayley grabbed Sergio’s empty plate and raced into the kitchen. She cut the biggest piece for Sergio, and then filled the other five plates. Gemma followed her into the kitchen and began uncorking a fresh bottle of red wine to serve with the dinner. They didn’t exchange a word. With all the hoopla and drama following her startling discovery of Trudy’s body, Hayley had lost her opportunity to warn Gemma about Conner’s intention
to propose to her. Since all seemed relatively calm between her daughter and her boyfriend, she could only assume that Conner had not found the right moment yet, so there was still some time to talk to her, if she chose to do so. Bruce’s strong advice to stay out of it was still haunting her so the one time they were alone and she had the chance to say something, she had let it pass. Now, she simply wanted to focus on what had happened to her new friend Trudy. She found her death disturbing and confusing and she needed to find answers.

  Gemma assisted her mother with carrying all the plates to the table before returning to the kitchen to grab the wine and refill everyone’s glasses.

  Once they were all seated again and diving into their lasagna, Hayley was determined not to allow the conversation to drift back to Conner’s lazy afternoons strolling the seaside or Amanda Knox’s almost four years in an Italian prison. “So, you think something could have malfunctioned with the propane tank and filled the truck with gas, and Trudy was overcome by the fumes before she had the chance to get out?”

  Sergio thought about her theory as he chewed a hunk of garlic bread and then nodded. “Yes, that’s what I thought at first.”

  Hayley dropped her fork. “At first? What do you mean ‘at first’?”

  “There seems to be a glitch with the accidental death theory.”

  Bruce, who usually inhaled Hayley’s lasagna at record speed, also put down his fork and stared at Sergio with renewed interest.

  Sergio opened his mouth to speak.

  But then Conner beat him to the punch. “I have a funny story that happened to me in Italy. I felt like such an ugly American—”

  “Can it wait?” Hayley snapped.

 

‹ Prev