by CeeCee James
“Well, this is awkward” continued Oscar. He grinned sheepishly at the rest of the guests. Then he lasered in on Roy again. “When we were playing cards the other day I happened to notice a tattoo on your wrist. You were grabbing the cards and there was a bull as plain as day.”
“Anyone can have a bull tattoo,” Roy sneered.
“Why don’t you show us?” Bobby asked, suddenly sounding quite curious.
Roy looked at him and then at Oscar, before pulling up his sleeve. The tattoo was exactly the same as what was on the napkin.
“Even if any of that was true, it’s no big deal. We didn’t do anything,” Troy said. “Maybe we were just going to talk to them. Who knows? Mike died before we had a chance. And we had nothing to do with that.” He glared at Oscar.
“Oh, I’m not blaming you for Mike’s death,” Oscar said.
“What’s all this about then, anyway?” asked Troy.
“I think you and Roy were here to collect the money that Mike and Steve owed your boss.” Oscar then turned toward Brenda and Bobby. “And I think you two were here to investigate Mike and Steve after they apparently bilked your company for an insurance settlement. I’m assuming your company realized something was off with their identities.”
And then he swiveled back to Steve. “You were the trickiest. You made me feel sorry for you, have compassion on your situation. You made me feel, and I resent that. You see, it took me some time, but I finally realized that Mike wasn’t your son at all.”
“How could you say such a terrible thing?” Steve spat out.
“Truth can be a terrible thing, can’t it? Well, despite you saying you were so close, you didn’t know he didn’t play poker or that he didn’t drink coffee but only energy drinks. And I noticed that when we went into your room that day, there was a strong scent of aftershave. That might have worked with any other layman, but I’ve been in FBI for too long for that to work with me. Everyone in the business knows that it’s a common trick to make the eyes red and appear teary.”
Oscar took another sip of water. Steve didn’t say anything, but Oscar saw his hand drop to the chair’s wheel. Oscar continued, casually, “Yes, you are the key to all of this. Mike was your partner, and you both assumed new identities, one of them being someone who’d been in a traffic accident. One way or another you were able to procure the settlement. Through the mafia’s ties you had the paperwork you needed to show your injury and identify who was at fault. Everything was going as planned until Mike got himself a little too feisty. You guys argued a lot, hmm?”
Steve didn’t answer. His grip on the wheel was so tight, his very arm vibrated.
“You both were frustrated. Pacing at night because of being trapped in the wheel chair all day. So you set the camera up so no one would catch you walking around.” Oscar rubbed his chin. “So strange how no matter how hard we try to protect ourselves, there is alway a breach in the wall.”
It seemed he was thinking about something else. Oscar shook his head. “Forgive me. Age has the baggage of memories. Anyway, back to my story. Despite your attempts to protect your secret, conversations were overheard, and puzzle pieces to the story were scattered.”
“This is preposterous. You all have the wrong man,” Steve sputtered.
Oscar slammed his hand on the armchair. “So what ended up being the tipping point, Steve? Did Mike have one argument too many with you?”
Brenda cleared her throat. “Actually, we figured things out a few weeks ago and Mike was cooperating with us to avoid prosecution. He called us here, and we were here to gather our last bit of evidence.”
“I see,” said Oscar, and then back to Steve, “That makes sense. So, I assume you knew that Mike was thinking of turning over on you. You spiked his energy drink with Digitalis, the prescription in your room, which is used to help with hearth rhythm. It can also cause immediate cardiac arrest if given at a high enough dose when it’s not needed.”
Steve half-rose out of the chair, his face white with fury. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Mike had a heart attack. Like you said, he was known to always chug those energy drinks. How am I to blame for that?”
Oscar raised his hands. “Blame? How are you indeed? Well, the drug will take a couple more weeks to identify, but between the blood vessel petechiae on Mike’s face and the reaction to his heart, the coroner has already raised Digitalis as the probable cause of death to over ninety percent. By the way, I saved the empty energy drink cans when I was picking up the garbage. The forensic’s lab can test them for the medicine. I’m fairly sure that is why you asked if he wanted coffee yesterday morning, so you could spike his drink.”
“You can’t prove a thing!” Steve screamed.
“You have the right to remain silent,” Frank said, reappearing in the room. “Anything you say can and will be used against you in the court of law.”
Steve stared at him with eyes the size of saucers. He leaped out of the chair and flung it in the officer’s direction. Everyone screamed as he darted through the kitchen and out the back door.
Chapter 10
Fortunately, Steve did not get far. When Frank had left the room the first time, he’d called for backup. The police already gotten into position by the time Frank made his arrest.
There was no reason to detain the other guests. The detectives were already in contact with the BlueMark Liability Insurance. Eventually, all the evidence was gathered, and the police left (with Jefferson quietly reassuring Cecelia that her food service license was safe).
The remaining guests made a quick retreat, with Roy and Troy being the quickest. In fact, they’d abandoned all of their belongings, only to be discovered later in their room. That caused some excitement for a moment. The police energetically poked through everything, but the energy soon turned tepid when all that was unearthed was a generic pile of dress shirts, pants, and underclothing. Cecelia was rather disturbed to learn there were no toothbrushes, however Frank did find a couple of dog-eared copies of Agatha Christie’s Poirot mysteries. Cecelia supposed that was a wash.
It was with great relief when the bed-and-breakfast was finally quiet again. A stillness only broken by soft Christmas carols playing in the background.
Cecelia smiled at Oscar and patted the cushion on the love seat next to her. “Come here, my grumpy man.”
Oscar rose from his arm chair, and, after making a quick trip to the fireplace to add some wood and to turn up the music, finally came to sit next to her.
“So, no guests tonight?” he asked, and slowly slid his arm around her. They smiled like the old friends that they were.
“Surprisingly, no. The rooms were supposed to be filled for the week. But even sweet Sarah took off, no doubt spooked by the thought of nearly spending her holidays with a group of mafia men, investigators, and a murderer.” She sighed. “No Christmas goodies to give. Not to mention, I had that lovely lunch planned.”
“Well, I’m feeling a bit peckish.” Oscar smiled at her. “Not that I need that excuse to eat. Your pot pie is heaven on earth.”
“Oh, really? Even cold?”
“Even anything, as long as I’m with you.”
She reached out to stroke his face, now so dear to her. He could act like an old coot, but she knew him for who he really was. Kind. Smart. Considerate.
“You should bring Peanut over here for some lunch as well,” she suggested.
He eyed the falling snow. “You don’t mind?”
“You two are a package deal. I already know that.”
Oscar kissed her cheek, relishing how soft it was and how sweet smelling she was, and then stood up. He tugged on his hat, squared his shoulders, and walked out to brave the snow.
Cecelia squeezed in next to the Christmas tree and watched him from the big living room window. The tinsel tickled her face, and she let out a sad sigh. They’d completely forgotten to finish decorating Oscar’s tree in all the ruckus. His first tree in years! She thought about calling him to say she was on her way over wh
en he returned to the porch with Peanut tucked under his arm.
And something else. A brightly wrapped Christmas present.
She grinned as he locked his door, before she darted away to her own room. In a moment, she had her own gift, a much smaller box, which she tucked in behind one of the cushions in the loveseat.
It was a few minutes before Oscar returned. He was letting Peanut do her business before scooping her up and carrying her to the door. Cecelia opened it before he had a chance to knock.
“Do you have a towel? The varmint’s feet have collected snowballs,” he said. And then for good measure he turned the dog around and pointed at the posterior. “And her butt.”
Cecelia laughed. “Bring her in. I’m sure we can get her dry. If not, I’ll stick her in the tub.
It took more than a few minutes with the hairdryer on low to melt the snow chunks, but eventually they all fell off. Then she dried the dog, who squirmed happily, and bundled her in a clean towel.
Oscar cradled the dog for two seconds before the wriggling animal made it impossible for him to hold her safely. She wanted to get down to explore every last square inch and right now!
He set her on the floor where she skidded out of the bathroom like she was a race car pumped full of 110-octane leaded fuel. She charged straight down the hall and into the kitchen. From there she ran into the living room, circled the couch two times, before sliding to a stop in front of the Christmas tree. With a happy yip, she looked for her owner, her tongue hanging out in a contented doggy smile.
“Make yourself at home, Peanut!” Cecelia called.
Oscar cleared his throat.
“I mean Bear!” Cecelia amended.
Oscar rolled his eyes and grabbed Cecelia’s hand and brought her over to the love seat. Then he retrieved the package he’d left in the foyer, and with a heavy breath of someone who was doing a lot of exercise, set it heavily in her lap.
“Merry Christmas to the cutest cookie-making, sweet-smelling, smart, funny, creative woman I’ve ever met. God gave me a gift in letting me meet you.”
“Oh, Oscar.” His compliment took her breath away. Cecelia had met his wife years ago, before she’d passed. She knew what a wonderful woman she was. Tears burned her eyes. “Thank you.” And then her eyes sparkled. “But don’t think for one moment that I’ve forgotten about that lasagna you owe me.”
He harrumphed. “Just open it.”
She did open it to discover a large book. It was of the Caribbean.”
“Open it,” Oscar coaxed.
She did, and together they studied the beautiful pictures of azure blue ocean scenes, sandy beaches, and lush forest life with waterfalls.
Sitting between the pages about halfway through the book was a stiff white envelope. Glancing at him, a little apprehensively, she pulled it out.
“Go on,” Oscar encouraged.
She slid her fingernail under the seal and opened the envelope.
Inside was a piece of paper. She plucked it out and pulled her readers up on the chain and placed them on her nose. It was an itinerary. Her lips moved silently as she read.
“Oh my goodness!” She finally exclaimed. “Is this real?”
“You deserve it,” he said. “Two weeks on the Royal Caribbean. They have a spa on board. I reserved the entire treatment.”
Her hand dropped to her lap. “It’s too much.”
“It’s not at all too much. Besides, I’m going as well. In my own cabin,” he added, quickly.
She laughed, and he grudgingly said, “Right next to yours. Anyway, you are always doing stuff for others. Always putting people before yourself. I wanted to do something that would let you know that I see you. I hear you, and you are so important to me.”
“Oscar….” She didn’t say more, instead letting her kiss do the talking. It was quite a few minutes before she broke apart from him with a start. “Oh, my goodness, I have something for you as well!”
She dug behind the cushion and pulled out the tiny box. But as she held it, Oscar noticed her hands were trembling.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yes.” She bit her bottom lip and looked decidedly Not Okay. He reached for the box, and she would not let go. Chuckling, he gave it a little tug.
She hung onto it like a mouse with a piece of cheese.
“You want to give this to me or not?”
Her eyes were wide and maybe a little scared as she looked at him. “I don’t want to upset you.”
“Honey, you couldn’t upset me. Especially with a gift.”
“I’m serious, Oscar. This is coming from a pure place in my heart. Please know I care about you.”
Well, with a build up like that, now Oscar was nervous himself. He eyed the box. During his FBI career he’d been around more than a few bombs, and he didn’t think one ever scared him half as much as this little red-ribboned gift did at the moment.
Suddenly, he didn’t want it. He had a feeling that whatever was inside was about to change everything. He liked his life. For the first time since his boys had disowned him, he was finally having hope. “Let’s save it for later,” he said, thinking maybe he would hide it away and claim it was lost.
His suggestion seemed to empower her decision, and she thrust it in his hands. “No, open it now.”
He glanced at her and then at the box. Slowly, he shook it, noting the rattle inside.
“Go on,” she said, smiling now. “Open it.”
He took in a deep breath and pulled at the ribbon. It untied in one movement. With gentle precision he slid the wrapping open and pushed out the box.
It was white cardboard, the same type as the paste jewelry came in that his boys used to buy their mom.
He removed the lid and stared down at the white pad of cotton.
Cecelia let out a little giggle.
He glanced at her and slowly removed the cotton, half expecting something to jump out at him.
Inside was a pink flamingo. He stared at it, blinking, and then turned a perplexed glance at Cecelia.
“It’s a keychain,” she said. “Take it out!”
He removed the metal painted ornament from the box and let it swing in the air. His eyebrows rumpled together, and he was so confused he could hardly think to form the question why?
“Okay, so I heard from Georgie, who heard from her best friend Kari that the Flamingo Realty in Brookfield is getting a new real estate agent.” Cecelia leaned back, puffed with pride.
“You?” he asked, his throat feeling dry.
“No, Oscar. Someone else. Someone very near and dear to you. Someone who is flying in from Seattle.” She rested her hand on his. “Someone you deserve to get to know. Your granddaughter.”
Oscar felt faint.
“You’ve been patient, and you’ve given everyone space to heal and grow. But it’s time to figure out your family. Time to move forward. And, I’ll help you do it.” Her thumb gently caressed his.
Oscar saw the determination in her eyes, and he believed her. His gut feeling had been right after all. He wondered at his sons— he loved them so and it broke his heart that they would never forgive him. Yet, how could they, after what he had done?
This item in the box was indeed a link to a permanent life change.
Still, secrets run deep. Deeper than he ever imagined. And he could never have expected the rollercoaster that was waiting for him right around the corner.
And neither could Cecelia.
Not even Peanut had a clue. But out of the three of them, Peanut was the most prepared for the next greatest adventure of their lives.
Chapter 11 Recipes
The End. Oh, Oscar O’Neil. This man has no idea what’s about to happen to him! Check out the Flamingo Realty Mysteries to find out what secret is separating his family. Will his sons ever forgive him? And can Peanut save the day?
Mind Your Manors
A Dead Market
Home Strange Home
Duplex Double Trouble
&nbs
p; MidCentury Modern Murder
With Killer Views
There are some delicious recipes below, but first…
About CeeCee James
She is a two time USA Today Best Selling mystery author with her hands full with miniature dachshunds and grandkids. Her favorite hobbies besides writing include reading, painting and hiding rocks, crocheting, and making miniatures. Connect with her readers’ page on facebook, and follow her on BookBub and Amazon for flash sales and new releases.
And now the fun stuff! Three free recipes!
Aunt Cecelia’s Christmas Star Breakfast Bread
1 package active dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water
3/4 cup warm milk
1/4 cup butter, softened
1 egg at room temperature
1/4 tsp vanilla
1/4 cup granulated sugar
pinch of salt
3 1/2 cups all-purpose flour
3/4 cup raspberry jam
Or- 1/2 cup of sugar
1TBS cinnamon mixed the 2 together
3 tbsp butter, melted
1/4 cup powdered sugar
Mix the water and yeast in a small mixing bowl. In a separate mixing bowl, beat butter until it’s smooth. Mix in egg, milk, sugar, and salt into the butter until smoothish. Once the yeast and water is foamy, add into the second bowl and continue to mix.
Slowly add flour. Transfer dough to a well-floured surface. Knead it a few minutes or until it becomes smooth and elastic. After kneading, transfer to a greased bowl and cover. Let it rise in a warm place for about an hour or until the dough has doubled in size.
Once dough has risen, divide into four balls. Take the first dough ball and roll it out into an approx. 12" circle. Place on a large sheet pan or pizza stone. Transfer 1/3 of the jam onto the dough (or cinnamon topping) and spread around, leaving 1/2" of space all the way around. Roll out next dough ball and put on top of first. Layer on jam or other topping. Lick your fingers. Repeat with one more dough balls and the remaining jam. With the last dough ball, roll it out and put it on top, but do not cover with jam.