The Wolfe Widow (A Book Collector Mystery)

by Victoria Abbott

  “Glad I got here,” he said with a tired grin. “I did promise Dekker I’d keep an eye on you. Wouldn’t want to tell him I failed in that.”

  Uncle Mick said, “Shame about that bottle of Jameson.”

  * * *

  THE DOOR OF my garret creaked open; the air inside was cold and a little stale, but I didn’t care. I was back in my own little cabbage-rose-wallpapered heaven. Muriel and Lainie were locked up. Jones was in hot water. The witnesses to the first will had turned out to be two innocent servers from Lainie’s café, just doing a favor for a customer. The poor kids would be out of a job now that the Hudson Café would be shuttered.

  The signora, the cats, Uncle Kev and I were officially reinstalled in Van Alst House. Vera was home from the hospital. Her throat was badly bruised and she had broken blood vessels in her eyes, but she was alive and relieved to get her life back. Eddie was a happy man.

  I let my bags slide off my shoulders to the floor. Kev had already brought my boxes up; they were stacked neatly in a corner and the Lucite coffee table was back in its place. Good Cat and Bad Cat wove in and out of my legs before making themselves at home on the bed. The signora had made it up for me with crisp linens and a puffy duvet. We were home. I was so lucky, but why did I still feel so sad?

  My iPhone buzzed in my pocket. A text from Lance:

  Poke.

  Poke??? I haven’t seen you or heard from you in a week, you missed me getting fired, run over and solving a 40 year old murder and now all you have to say is POKE!???

  The phone buzzed again. This time it was Tiff. Poke poke

  I’ll poke you, lady, with a sharp stick, I thought. Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. The cats tilted their heads in curiosity. Bad Cat extended his claws in anticipation.

  Tiff and Lance and a humongous bouquet of stargazer lilies filled my doorway. I had meant to give them some attitude, but instead, my stiff upper lip turned into a trembling lower one.

  “Where have you been? I got run over.” I stiffened my spine before a wave of tears washed over me. I was still, after all, a Kelly. We know how to pull ourselves together even when we don’t feel like it.

  Lance and Tiff rushed forward. I think Lance may have been welling up; Tiff had streaks of tears on her cheeks. I was soon smiling from being wrapped in love, hugs and the delicious smell of my favorite flowers.

  “Where were you?” My squeak trailed off. I was herded to the sitting area.

  Lance’s eyes definitely had tears in them. His handsome face was twisted in guilt. “I’m a horrible liar.”

  This was true. Tiff patted him on the back. Not a romantic gesture by any means. “He was afraid he wouldn’t be able to lie to you. And that’s my fault.” She sat beside me. “Please, don’t freak out with what we’re going to tell you.”

  “I’m making no such promise.”

  Tiff said, “I’ve been really tired lately. Not merely tired, but exhausted.”

  “Tell me about it. Try getting smucked by a truck.”

  “But I also had a bit of a swollen gland in my neck. My doctors . . .” She continued but I heard nothing after that. My mind raced like WebMD as I ran possible causes through my database of human afflictions. I knew what she must have been afraid of: the same kind of cancer that killed her mother when we were in school. My hands started shaking.

  “The same day, you said you’d lost your job. I heard that just as I got a cancellation to get in early. I knew that Lance would never be able to lie to you and I didn’t want you to be worried. I asked him to come with me. I made him leave his phone when we went to Syracuse for the tests.” My chest tightened. Panic spread goose bumps across my skin. I was so wrapped up in my reaction to her illness, I hadn’t even heard the rest of what she was saying.

  “Jordan, it’s fine! I’m fine, really. They think it was anemia and maybe a mild case of hypothyroidism.” In order to avoid a waterfall, I grabbed Lance and Tiff in a hug/double nelson.

  Tiff said, “So you understand why I didn’t want to tell you by text or by phone until we knew what was going on?”

  “I do, of course. You must have been sick about it. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. I feel bad you had to worry about me and worry about my reaction. I shouldn’t have been such a delicate flower.”

  Obviously, I wouldn’t have been a very strong support during this time for Tiff. All that overthinking had led me to believe Tiff and Lance had ditched me for some magically splendid love affair in rainbow land or, at least, inconsiderately browsing in the outlet mall. But they were actually drinking stale coffee in a waiting room in Syracuse. “I thought you went off to ride unicorns without me.” I knew I had a goofy grin. “Now it all makes sense.”

  Tiff and Lance exchanged glances. “Okay, Jordan, maybe you need a lie-down?” Tiff angled me toward the pillows. Lance said, “Is hallucinating unicorns a sign of a head injury?”

  Tiff said, “Something must explain it.” Lance arranged my flowers in the vase he’d brought along. I saw him wiping his eyes.

  After a lot of catching up, they left. I never once mentioned during our emotional gathering that I had pretty much learned to stand on my own feet without them. It seemed wrong to bring it up, and after all I’d had Kev and Cherie.

  I climbed into bed still filled with relief. Good Cat took up residence on my belly. And I finally let myself fall into a deep sleep and joined them on the unicorn ride. Or maybe I dreamed that.

  Except for Smiley, all was right with my world.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE FOOD DROP was practically unrecognizable. Festive paper turkeys decorated the place. Who doesn’t love turkeys and pumpkins and pilgrim hats? Phyllis managed to look rather rakish in hers. Not sure what the original pilgrims would have thought.

  The pumpkin spice candles gave the place a warm glow. Phyllis’s team of retired teachers were kept busy setting tables, seating families and serving. I saw Mr. Murphy from a distance. He didn’t acknowledge me. I suppose I wasn’t his favorite person. Jasmine did dance by, bringing little bone-shaped packages for people to take home to their dogs.

  The long tables were done up with yellow tablecloths and orange napkins. It was all the best the Dollar Daze had to offer. Lance had put his considerable decorating talents to work, with Tiff as the able assistant.

  The aroma of turkey and stuffing was intoxicating. Even more intoxicating was the sight of my nearest and dearest, all working hard to get back in good grace.

  It was hard to believe how many families and individuals were here for this special dinner. I was glad to be able to help them and sorry that they needed the help.

  Vera Van Alst, generally the most hated woman in Harrison Falls, got some strange looks as she worked her wheelchair in between the long tables, offering hot rolls.

  “You’ve never had anything like these,” she said with authority. I knew that was true because the signora had made a gazillion of them and they were simply the best. Their fragrance was wonderful, even with all the competing aromas.

  “And you may never again, so hurry up,” Vera added to anyone who was slow on the uptake.

  The signora danced behind her bearing an enormous soup tureen filled with ravioli simmering in homemade broth. Eddie followed reverently with a dish with freshly grated Parmesan. All right, so this wasn’t a Thanksgiving tradition in Harrison Falls, but who knew what the future held.

  To my surprise, Dwight Jenkins was also volunteering. I spotted him with Tom and Mindy and they all waved. They were restocking the dessert table with plated pumpkin pies, cakes and other goodies. I guessed that Tom and Mindy’s kids had canceled again, but I hoped this event brought them some joy.

  In the kitchen, Uncle Mick was inspecting the turkeys. I had left strict instructions that he wasn’t in charge of turkey doneness. The Kellys favor birds cooked to the texture of jerky. Luckily, Karen was ther
e and able to exercise a bit of influence over Lucky, who in turn could get Mick to step away before complete desiccation set in.

  Officer Melski had brought his family’s traditional sweet potato dish, complete with nicely toasted marshmallows. More surprising was a cameo appearance by Detective Jack Jones, in casual clothing, although I was pretty sure that charcoal pullover was cashmere. He made a donation under Phyllis’s eye and sauntered over to me. He nodded, reached out and shook my hand. “No hard feelings?”

  “None. You made it right in the end.” I didn’t mention that it must have been a blow to him to learn that the lovely Lainie was a murderer. I never got details, but I figured she’d put certain ideas into his head about Muriel and Vera and me. At least he was man enough to admit he’d been had.

  Tiff, bearing Brussels sprouts, created an impact. She would touch a shoulder, an arm, or pat a hand. She radiated happiness.

  Lance was serving potatoes. Most of the women in the room fixed their hair as soon as they spotted him approaching. He is even more magnetic than Uncle Kev and far less catastrophic.

  That reminded me, where was Uncle Kev? He’d said something vague about adding some pizzazz to the party. Cherie was blond again and also showing lots of pizzazz and cleavage. She was the sexiest pilgrim I’d ever seen. Would he dress as a pilgrim too?

  I thought the dinner had already had plenty of pizzazz.

  My phone buzzed and I put down my platter and checked. Everyone was there, after all.

  Smiley.

  Home tomorrow. Love U . . .

  Love U? Love me?

  What just happened?

  And wait, tomorrow?

  Maybe I’d get my unicorns and rainbows after all. Although they’d better come with a good explanation. I had a feeling that explanation would be coming too. After all, Smiley had made sure that Officer Melski kept an eye on me.

  Even I had to admit that things were just about perfect. Of course, that was before Uncle Kev arrived and most ceremoniously opened a crate releasing a gang of angry and confused wild turkeys. Pizzazz? Not so much.

  Eventually, the screaming subsided and there was general rejoicing.

  Everyone gave thanks.

  RECIPES

  THE SIGNORA’S RUSTIC ROAST CHICKEN

  With a salad and a glass or two of Tuscan wine, the signora’s version of roast chicken is like a mini-vacation in Italy!

  Half a loaf of rustic Italian bread, cut in 1-inch thick slices, enough to make a bed for the chicken

  4–6 tablespoons olive oil, divided

  Salt and pepper, to taste

  1 chicken, about 4–5 lbs

  ½ to one whole garlic head (rub off outside papery skin and slice in half horizontally through all the cloves)

  Half a lemon

  Half a lime

  Sprigs of fresh rosemary or two tsp of dried

  ½ bunch fresh thyme, coarsely chopped or two tsp dried

  Preheat oven to 400 degrees F.

  Place bread slices in center of a metal roasting pan.

  Drizzle 2 to 3 tbsp of olive oil over bread and sprinkle with salt and pepper.

  Season cavity with salt and pepper. Stuff with prepared garlic head, lemon, lime and herbs.

  Rub outside of chicken with remaining olive oil and season with salt and pepper.

  Place chicken, breast side up, on bread slices.

  Roast chicken for about 1½ hours, until it is very brown and crispy and pan juices run clear when you cut between the leg and thigh. Internal temperature should be 165 degrees F.

  Remove from oven, cover with foil and let chicken rest for 10 to 15 minutes before carving.

  Serve with slices of the fabulous bread from the pan.

  SMOKEY ROAST PEPPERS IN OLIO

  The signora grows amazing peppers in her kitchen garden at Van Alst House. In the late summer and early fall, you can smell them roasting. Uncle Kev has been commandeered to roast them on the charcoal grill which gives them an amazing smoky taste.

  6 red, yellow or orange peppers

  6 cloves of garlic, peeled and slivered

  ¾ cup very good quality extra virgin olive oil

  Squirt of lemon juice

  Sprinkle of sea salt

  Place peppers on the charcoal grill or over a medium gas flame. Let them roast for 15 to 30 minutes, using tongs to give them a quarter turn every few minutes, till the peppers are charred, soft and collapsing. Once they’re blistered, remove and place them in a brown paper bag. Close the bag and leave for 30 minutes to an hour. This will steam off the skin.

  When the peppers are cool, remove from the bag, and peel off skin. This will be easy but a bit messy.

  Once they’re peeled, remove the stem, cut in four and remove the seeds and the white membrane. This is messy too and there’s no way around that. Never mind. It’s worth it.

  Slice peppers about ¼-inch thick. Place in a shallow serving bowl. Sprinkle with lemon juice.

  Cover with your best olive oil.

  Add the garlic slivers and sprinkle a bit of sea salt.

  This is a wonderful side dish for meat or chicken. It keeps very well in the fridge.

  PAN DI SPAGNA

  Pan di Spagna is a traditional sponge cake. Signora Panetone has at least three different Pan di Spagna recipes as far as we can tell. This one has a bit more sugar and flour than the other two, but it is Jordan’s favorite. The signora might serve it with whipped cream and fresh fruit, or she might slice it into layers and put jam and custard in between each. Or she might drizzle it with a lemon icing sugar glaze. Jordan likes it all by itself with a light dusting of icing sugar.

  6 eggs at room temperature, separated

  ½ cup water

  2 cups white sugar

  2 cups white flour

  2 tsp baking powder

  1 tsp good quality vanilla

  Icing sugar (optional)

  Preheat oven to 325 degrees F. Butter and flour an angel food pan.

  In a bowl add water to yolks. Beat until thick and fluffy.

  Add sugar gradually, beating until very thick and glossy.

  Combine flour and baking powder. Gradually add to yolk/sugar mixture, beating until well blended.

  In a separate bowl, beat the egg whites until stiff peaks form.

  Gently fold egg whites into yolk mixture gradually, being careful not to overbeat. You should still see streaks of white.

  Bake for about one hour until a tester comes out clean.

  Cool on a wire rack and carefully remove from pan. Serve plain or with whipped cream, lemon glaze or any other tasty addition.