Season of Danger: Silent Night, Deadly NightMistletoe Mayhem

by Alexander, Hannah; Alexander, Hannah

“Somebody attacked us and left the back door wide open.”

  “No wonder I’m so cold.” Tim shuddered, then his brown eyes narrowed on Matt. “And who are you?”

  “Hold your suspicions,” Kelly said. “Matt’s our rescuer. He’s a state health inspector, and I left him at my sister’s restaurant before I came here. The intruder was inside when I arrived. It’s a good thing I’d invited Matt over to get those biological samples. We could have lain in the cold for who knows how long until somebody started looking for us.”

  Tim scowled, winced and then closed his eyes.

  “This creep is pure meanness,” Matt said. “I hope the cops catch him before he pulls another stunt like this.”

  She stared at her neighbor. The deep blue of his eyes had become as intense as an impending storm. He looked dangerous…and attractive. She leaned back on her haunches, putting distance between them. Attraction was not an appropriate response at the moment.

  Sharp raps sounded at the front door. Kelly surged to her feet, and the room whirled. A hand closed around her forearm, steadying her. She tugged away without looking at Matt and headed for the reception area, well aware of his warm nearness following close behind. A black-and-white patrol car stood outside the picture window, bubbles whirling.

  “Thank goodness,” Kelly breathed and opened the door to Police Chief Art Strand.

  The chief strode inside, a balding, sixtyish man of medium stature with a middling paunch who’d been on the force in Abbottsville since Kelly was “knee-high to a grasshopper and cute as a bug’s ear.” Or so he liked to tease her when they met on the street. Right now, he was all business.

  “You the one who called?” Art jerked a square chin at Matt. He nodded and the chief turned his gaze on Kelly. “You all right?”

  “I am…or will be.” She crossed her arms against a fresh tremor. “Tim’s hurt.”

  Art shook his head. “The fun never ends for that guy.”

  An ambulance pulled in beside the squad car, and a pair of EMTs piled out. They all followed Kelly and Matt to where Tim lay, pale and unmoving.

  Kelly gripped Matt’s arm. “He looks so…hurt.”

  The EMTs got busy with her assistant while Art’s sharp, gray gaze assessed the scene.

  “The ambulance personnel are getting too much of a workout around here,” the chief muttered.

  “You mean, transporting people to the Sevierville hospital?” Matt said.

  Art’s eyes narrowed. “You know about that?”

  “Matthew Bennett. I’m a state health inspector, assigned to look into the case.”

  The chief pursed his lips and nodded. A pair of deputies joined the melee in the room, which had suddenly grown too small. Animal barks and yips and mews added to the chaos.

  Kelly rubbed her temples where a headache had begun to pulse. “I need to take care of my patients.”

  “Not until you’re looked at by a medic.” Matt awarded her that intense, blue-eyed stare.

  Kelly scowled. “I am a medic, and this is nothing that the passage of time won’t fix. It takes a little while for the effects of improperly administered sevoflurane to wear off.”

  “That’s what the guy knocked you out with?”

  “I’d know that smell anywhere. He could have taken it from my pharmacy.” Kelly sucked in a breath. She was an idiot for not figuring this out sooner. “The intruder was after drugs!”

  She charged out of the room with Matt and Art on her heels. On the threshold of her pharmacy, she halted with a gasp. A tornado and a hurricane combined couldn’t have trashed the place more thoroughly.

  “Don’t touch anything,” Art’s voice boomed.

  Kelly’s gut clenched. Matt settled a hand on her shoulder. Like a flower desperate for light, she leaned in to him. The grim reality of the last hour crashed over her, and her knees trembled. Someone had attacked her and Tim and had ransacked her clinic. Right here in Abbottsville. This stuff was only supposed to happen in the big cities.

  “I need you to identify if anything’s missing.” Art jabbed a thick finger at Kelly. “Then I’ll have to ask you to leave while I get a tech squad busy around here.”

  “But my patients.” Kelly spread her hands. “Do your guys want to feed and clean up after a bunch of cats and dogs?”

  Art scratched the thinning salt-and-pepper hair above his left ear. “All right. You stay. But only until everyone has picked up their pets.”

  Matt cleared his throat. “Would it be possible for me to take the package of biological samples Kelly collected from her patients yesterday? The samples may be pertinent to my investigation, and I can’t imagine a burglar had any interest in animal waste.”

  “That’s a fair bet.” Art snorted. “Where was the package?”

  “Here in the pharmacy.” Kelly stared at the debris. Drawers had been ripped out of their frames and the contents dumped. Supplies had been swept from the shelving; the glass in the locked cabinet doors was shattered and the contents rifled. Even the refrigerator door hung open with vials upended and tossed. “I don’t see it.”

  Matt shrugged. “Not sure how you could spot anything in this mess.”

  Art held up a hand. “If my crew runs across it, they’ll turn it in. One of my deputies will get with each of you and collect your statements.”

  Matt’s brow furrowed. “I guess I’ll move along then.” His gaze fell to Kelly.

  She squirmed on the inside. The warmth in the blue depths of his eyes was uncomfortably kind. This man was investigating her sister’s restaurant. The last thing she should feel toward him was gratitude…or the desire to ask him to stay.

  “Will you be all right?” he asked.

  “Surrounded by most of the law enforcement in town?” She offered a casual smile.

  “Still, be careful. I’ll see you later, okay?”

  She nodded. He’d see her later? A part of her did a happy dance. She squelched the sensation. He turned away and retreated toward a deputy who was holding a hand-size recorder. The officer beckoned him into the reception area.

  She forced her attention back on the police chief. “After I tend the animals, can I use my office to call the pet owners?”

  Art waved her off. “I’ll send a deputy to find you.”

  Kelly made quick work of caring for her patients and then sought privacy in her office. The burglar had overlooked that cubicle in the corner of the building. She picked up the phone and started calling pet owners.

  Getting them to come after their animals on a workday was easier said than done. A few offered to swing by over their lunch breaks. But Brenda had no way to collect her terrier until her second-shift cook came on mid-afternoon. Shortly, a deputy arrived at her office door. After giving her statement, Kelly settled behind her desk to stay out of law enforcement’s way and catch up on paperwork…and miss Matt’s reassuring presence.

  How could she feel someone’s absence so acutely when she’d only met the guy a couple of times? It wasn’t merely because he was attractive. Looks were nice but pretty far down on her list of what made a good man. His reassuring air of competence, maybe? His integrity? So maybe his dog had trashed her Christmas decorations. Matt had taken full responsibility and collected the mess without a squawk. The way people were these days, common decency like that meant something.

  Kelly shook her head to dispel the dangerous thoughts. The person she should focus on was Tim. Kelly called the hospital, and the receptionist rang her through to Tim’s room. He greeted her in his characteristic glum tone.

  “How are you doing?” Kelly asked.

  “The doc put stitches in my forehead and says I have a mild concussion. They’re going to keep me overnight in this holiday Hilton.”

  Kelly gave a dry chuckle. “Have you remembered anything about what happened?”

  A pregnant silence answered, and then a sigh. “I’ll keep racking my brains—whatever parts aren’t scrambled. But the doctor says amnesia of events prior to a head blow is normal.”


  “I’ve heard that. I’m baffled about how the intruder got in. Did he follow you through the door when you unlocked it? Or did you know the person and let them in? Maybe—”

  “I don’t know!”

  Tim’s sharp distress halted Kelly’s speculations. Gnawing on unanswerable questions was one of her worst faults. She annoyed even herself sometimes.

  “You rest and get back on your feet,” she said.

  “Sorry, Kell. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m pretty frazzled. Are you okay?”

  “A little shook up but otherwise fine.”

  “That’s a relief anyway. I couldn’t stand it if anything bad happened to you.”

  Tim’s concern warmed Kelly’s heart. She hung up from the conversation, biting her lip. Poor guy. He sounded alert but no more cheerful than his usual Eeyore self. Not that Kelly could fault his outlook too much.

  In the past year, Tim had been through the wringer and then some. Frankly, there were a few necks she’d like to wring—his ex-wife, Hayley, at the top of the list, and a few mean-spirited community gossips a close second. It was a wonder he’d stuck around this burg the way every stitch of his dirty laundry, mostly nonsense, had been hung out to dry in public. While the divorce was pending and before Hayley skipped town, rumors had run the gauntlet of spousal abuse to infidelity. Hayley had milked the rumors for every ounce of sympathy, but Kelly hadn’t believed a word of them. Not about the Tim she knew. The man had adored his wife. From Kelly’s observation, Hayley had been the user and abuser in the relationship.

  Hopefully, the assault at the clinic wouldn’t prove the last straw for Tim and drive him from town. She’d heard about how insecure a home invasion made people feel. A business invasion was no better. Locking up, going home and hiding under the bedcovers sounded mighty appealing.

  The desk phone rang, and Kelly jumped. She swallowed her heart back into place and picked up the receiver.

  “Hi. It’s Matt.”

  Like she hadn’t recognized his voice on the first syllable? “Oh, hello. How’s the investigation going?”

  “Tedious.” The word held more tension than boredom.

  Kelly’s stomach clenched. Had he discovered anything suspicious in regard to her sister’s restaurant? She dismissed the ridiculous thought and brought her attention back to what Matt was saying.

  “I was wondering how you’re doing…and Tim, too,” he said.

  Kelly gave him an update and thanked him for the call. She could add considerate and thoughtful to Matt’s list of virtues. Most guys wouldn’t have given Tim—or her—a second thought. Smiling, Kelly returned to her paperwork.

  When Brenda showed up after 3:00 p.m. to collect her dog, she made a few sly comments about the good-looking, single health inspector, but Kelly dodged the remarks. What if she was feeling a flicker of interest in him? It was too soon to give her sister ammunition for a matchmaking quest—not that Brenda needed an invitation to embark on that project.

  After her sister left, Kelly decided to call it a day. Tomorrow, she’d deal with her insurance company and clean up the mess. Snowflakes fell lightly on her shoulders as she locked the back door. A small shiver danced across her skin. Did some unknown party have a key for this lock? She’d call a locksmith, but who knew when one would come up to Abbottsville to install it?

  The evening passed uneventfully except for her restless pacing around the lonely house. She couldn’t concentrate on a movie or a book. Did the police have any leads on her clinic break-in? She parted her kitchen-window curtains. The house next door lay dark. She sighed. Her neighbor was disappointingly scarce. Had he gone out of town to turn in his samples? Was he interviewing the victims of the illness? She prayed he and his department solved the mystery soon so this dark cloud over her sister’s business could disappear.

  After a poor night’s sleep disturbed by dreams of hands grabbing for her out of the dark, Kelly arrived walleyed and cranky at her clinic the next morning. Tim called around 10:00 a.m. to say he was being released from the hospital. A friend was giving him a ride back to Abbottsville, and he’d come to the clinic as soon as he could. She told him to go home and rest. With today being Friday, they wouldn’t reopen until Monday.

  A short time later, the insurance adjuster arrived and toured the building. The pharmaceuticals were the highest ticket items in the claim, but he agreed that the entire pharmacy inventory would have to be chalked up to a loss and destroyed, since they couldn’t be assured that the intruder hadn’t tampered with the medications.

  After the adjuster left, Kelly started cleaning up. She saved the demolished pharmacy for last. Two hours of meticulous cataloging later, she was forced to a bizarre conclusion. Nothing was missing…except the biological samples intended for the lab. She called Art with her findings. If the police chief thought the theft of animal waste was as strange as she did, his cop demeanor didn’t let on.

  A few minutes later, she pulled up outside Brenda’s Kitchen. Patrons were streaming out the door and standing in small, dumbstruck groups on the sidewalk. That was odd. Kelly climbed out of her vehicle and crossed the street. Closer, she spotted Matt with his back to her, facing the restaurant door. Art stood at his elbow, thumbs in his belt, looking way too official.

  Kelly nudged her way through the crowd. She reached Matt as he turned away from the door. Their gazes clashed, then Kelly looked beyond him to the notice he’d posted on the door. Her nails chewed her palms.

  “You’re closing my sister’s restaurant? No way! She’s a clean freak. There can’t be any contamination here.”

  Matt’s brows pulled together above a frown. He took her elbow and guided her toward her Explorer. Kelly yielded for one purpose only—to hear what could possibly be said to justify this horrible action.

  “Test results are conclusive.” He halted in front of her vehicle. “It wasn’t e. coli.”

  “Then what—”

  “It was a concentrated dosage of phoratoxin, a poison found in mistletoe.”

  Kelly’s jaw dropped open. This nightmare was no accident?

  “Interviews with the victims—who have grown to eight, by the way—show one common denominator—Brenda’s Kitchen. I’m sorry, but we have to close the restaurant to protect the public.”

  He looked genuinely mournful, but sorry wasn’t going to salvage her sister’s business. “Poison at my sister’s restaurant? Impossible! The pets exhibited the same symptoms, and they never ate at Brenda’s Kitchen. There has to be another explanation, and I’m going to find it.”

  Matt’s mouth opened, but Kelly didn’t wait for an argument. She hopped into her SUV and roared away, her appetite forgotten.

  As each pet was presented for treatment yesterday, it was routine to ask if the animal had eaten anything out of the ordinary. The question had met with denials, but now she needed to push for better answers. Mistletoe? She pictured Matt’s dog, Ben, gnawing on her wreath. But the Saint Bernard pup hadn’t gotten sick.

  Over the next hour, Kelly stopped at the houses of pet owners across town and probed to see if their animals could have ingested Christmas decorations. She was pulling all negatives in response. Dusk was falling, and so were her spirits. The initial flush of anger had long gone, and discouragement flowed in her veins. Festive Christmas lights adorned the homes she passed and mocked her with their merry twinkle. Hands in her jacket pockets, she walked past Chelsea’s house, en route from one home to another in the same neighborhood.

  A head-high chain-link fence surrounded the waitress’s run-down, two-story residence. No Christmas decorations in evidence here. The only light filtered dimly through a back window.

  Growls and snarls came from behind the fence, but Kelly paid no attention to Brutus, who paced parallel to her progress up the sidewalk. The Doberman probably remembered her as the evil human who poked needles into him yesterday. She was safe outside the fence, though. Too bad her quivering gut hadn’t gotten that memo. If she’d had her brain in gear, she wo
uld have chosen another route to her destination.

  Kelly reached the edge of the property, and Brutus threw himself against the fence. She jumped at the sudden rattle, heart leaping into her throat. Her pace quickened and took her across the deserted street. Impact against the fence sounded again, and then an ominous noise—the squeal of hinges. Kelly glanced over her shoulder as the dog surged through the gate.

  Jaws wide, teeth bared, Brutus tore straight for her. Blood rushing in her ears, Kelly froze. This couldn’t be happening.

  Move, girl!

  Her pulse spiked, and her feet grew wings as they flew up the sidewalk. She had one chance—the oak tree reigning over the yard dead ahead. Could she reach the safety of the cold, bare branches before dripping fangs closed on her flesh?

  THREE

  “The mistletoe poisoning has to be deliberate,” Matt said to the police chief. They eyed each other across Art’s office desk.

  “Yep.” The chief leaned back in his chair, gaze cop-flat.

  “There’s no way something that bizarre could be an accident.”

  “Nope.”

  Matt sat forward, elbows on knees, and ran the fingers of both hands through his hair. This case had gone from mishandling of food to attempted murder. And someone with access to the ingredients at Brenda’s Kitchen had poisoned the patrons with malice aforethought. No wonder Kelly had reacted so angrily to the restaurant closing. A poisoner in her sister’s restaurant? The thought scared him, too.

  The phone on the chief’s desk jangled, and Matt sat straight. Art answered, listened, scowled and then smirked. The man hung up and lifted a grizzled brow at Matt.

  “Seems Kelly’s been treed by a vicious dog.”

  Matt’s throat tightened. “Is she all right?”

  “She called in the report from her cell phone while perched on a branch. The dispatcher says she’s fine, just cold and uncomfortable, because that dog won’t let her out of the tree.” Art rose and grabbed his hat. “Want to ride along?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Matt followed the chief to a city-issue pickup truck with a topper covering the box. Kelly might not be glad to see him, but he needed to see she was all right.