Peppermint Pandemonium: A Cozy Mystery (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book 5)

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Peppermint Pandemonium: A Cozy Mystery (Sweet Home Mystery Series Book 5) Page 7

by Constance Barker


  The cat was already standing and even snarled at me. Whatever Cora gave her seemed to be doing the trick.

  “Would you like to stay for dinner, Harvey?”

  “I’ve got to get him to the coffee shop, Cora. Eli will be meeting him there in a little while.” Okay, so it was a lie, kind of. Eli might stop by, so then it would be the truth.

  A few minutes later Miss Pickles was ready to take down a buffalo.

  “Do I still have to give her that water and the rest of those crunchy things?” Harvey asked Cora. “She looks like she’s doing fine now.”

  “Oh, yes, yes, Harvey. Keep giving it to her until it’s all gone. In fact, if she’s still not well by Christmas Eve, just pour all of the liquid into her water bowl in the morning. I’ll stop by in the afternoon to see how she’s doing.”

  “Well, let’s hope this is the last time you have to treat her.”

  We made our way back outside. I took the kids home and met the gang back at the Coffee Cabana.

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  Chapter Eight

  It was the final weekend of the Christmas Markets, and the Friday night Bingo crowd was gathering. Penny Carver would be calling the numbers tonight. But her husband, Bob, is also a one of Harvey’s five substitutes, and I’ve never seen him more than five feet away from his wife. They will probably take turns calling, in between googly-eyed smooches.

  “I’m not sure if it’s sweet or nauseating the way those two carry on all the time, like a couple of love struck teenagers,” Hildie wondered aloud as we set Becky’s fresh-out-of-the-oven pies on top of the display rack to cool.

  “Nauseating,” Essie said, eliminating any doubt as to her feelings on the matter. “First he glued a thousand pennies to his golf cart when he was trying to win Penny over, and now I swear their brains have fallen right out of their heads. I swear if Bob kisses her one more time I'm going to deck him.”

  I think I’ll just tiptoe over to the coffee pots.

  Jules and Eli had both just arrived and were chatting down at the end of the counter. Jules was laughing and slapping his arm when I started walking towards them.

  “Yes, yes, of course, Eli,” Jules said to my guy with her beaming smile. “Let’s go!”

  “Hi, guys,” I said as intrusively as possibly. “What’s up?”

  They were obviously in a bubble that was blocking out the rest of the world, because my not-so-sudden appearance gave them a jolt. Their smiles disappeared and they stood straight with slightly flushed faces like two kids who just got caught with the hands in the cookie jar.

  “Um, hi, Lily.” Jules was the first to speak. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

  Eli tried on a big fib for size. “You know, I was telling her that I just put gas in my car.”

  “Yeah, I can see where that would give her a good laugh. So…”

  Jules put her hand on Eli’s arm. “Are you ready?”

  “Yeah. Let’s go.”

  “We’ll see you later, Lily.” Jules took Eli’s arm and turned to walk away.

  “Hey, guys, the markets are this way,” I said pointing toward the cobblestone path. They were heading to the parking lot.

  “See you after Bingo!” Eli hollered over shoulder, and they were gone.

  I was left standing there with my jaw hanging and my head swimming when Aunt Essie came up behind me.

  “Isn’t that sweet!” she said with a smile and rubbed my back as she watched my two favorite people in the world walk away arm in arm.

  “Sweet?” I was a little stunned. “How about I use your word nauseating.”

  “Well…” she turned me around and took my shoulders in her hands. With a rare motherly smile and gentle eyes she continued. “…he obviously wants to get you a nice dress or necklace for Christmas, and he wants Jules to help him pick out something that isn’t hideous or the wrong size.”

  “Oh.”

  That did make sense. All the pieces fit, even the “hiding the truth” faces they made when I caught them plotting.

  “Yeah, that has to be it. Thanks.”

  She smiled and patted my arm. Then she went back to help Hildie fill some coffee orders. I was kind of liking this “born again” Aunt Essie with a heart filled with love and joy. I wondered how long it would last.

  “Doggone it, Toe! I told you three times already. Those pies have to cool for another ten minutes before I can cut them. So don’t ask me again unless you want it in your face!”

  I guess I found my answer. Essie turned and walked off in a huff. Toe and Harvey turned toward each other, bouncing their shoulders in a kind of silent, giddy laughter. They loved getting Essie’s goat. Of course, Essie had eyes in the back of her head. She turned suddenly and looked back at the boys, who tried to put on innocent faces. Then Essie looked up at me and winked. That gave me more insight into her usual behavior than anything had up till now. It was all performance art and role-playing: She was the strict schoolteacher, and they were the naughty boys – and they all loved it that way.

  Anyway, I guess it’s probably time for me to start taking my Christmas shopping seriously.

  “Essie

  …”

  “Go ahead,” Essie hollered back, reading my mind, and Hildie waved me off too. “Just make sure you give me a chance to go out shopping tomorrow…”

  “And me on Sunday!” Hildie added.

  “Thanks!”

  There was plenty of great stuff right here at the markets that I could never find in regular stores, so I headed out in search of merchandise…and bargains. I had $300 burning a hole in my pocket that I got from the bank this morning.

  It was a little cool after dark now, and Hildie handed me her festive red and green scarf to wrap around my neck. It felt so much like Christmas now, so I looked up at the sky…but not a snowflake was in sight. Oh, well.

  I found a thousand things I wanted to get for Jules, but it was not so easy finding things for Eli and the aunts. There were so many cute little dresses and tops that were designed and handmade by the shopkeepers. Scarves, denim jackets, knick-knacks, paintings – I mean, Jules loves everything artistic and looks great in everything. There were too many things to choose from for her, and nothing that seemed just perfect for my aunts and Eli – especially if he was going to get me something nice.

  The vendors were all trying to interest me and everyone else in their wares.

  “Good evening, ma’am! An engraved coffee mug for your husband?”

  What an original idea for a lady with a coffee shop. No thanks.

  “Original Star Wars movie posters, Miss! Take a look!”

  Sure. Then he’ll want a moose head to put next to it in his man cave. Just no.

  “Ma’am! Over here! The robo-matic foot massager as seen on TV!”

  Hmmm...I’d love it for myself.

  “Good evening, young lady. How about a nice hot cup of wassail to take with you on your shopping journey tonight?”

  Such a warm, mellow, comforting voice it was, coming from a distinguished gentleman of about 50 with perfectly dappled salt-and-pepper hair. His booth was called Hall of Fame Memorabilia. His tone was such a stark difference from the rest of the hollering hucksters that I had to stop and take a look.

  “On the house,” he said as he dipped a large ladle into a pot of hot amber juice.

  I didn’t really decide to go over to his booth, but gravity just kind of pulled me there. I guess his natural grace and peacefulness just sort of drew me over.

  “Here you go, ma’am. This will keep you warm tonight.”

  It smelled delicious, but he could see that I looked a little tentative as I took the cup.

  “It’s just hot apple cider with a splash of orange juice, a touch of cinnamon, and some Christmas spices. Swizzle that cinnamon stick around in it a few times, and give it a sip.”

  I could see a couple of oranges
studded with cloves floating in the warm brew and a cheesecloth sack of spices on a plate next to it that he had used as sort of a tea bag to add some flavors. I took a sip.

  “Wow. It tastes like Christmas!” It really did.

  He nodded and didn’t even try any high-pressured sales on me.

  “Enjoy your shopping ma’am.”

  “Thank you. Say…do you have any gift ideas for a 35-year-old cop?”

  “Well, I’m not so good at gift ideas. But if he likes football, all I can tell you is to take a look around – see if there’s anything here he might like from any of his favorite players. I’d be happy to sign something for you too.”

  I almost laughed, as I couldn’t imagine that Eli would want some salesman’s signature.

  “Well, unless your Dirk Madero, I don’t think that will be necessary.”

  He just smiled. Then I looked at his nametag. It said “#50 Dirk.”

  “Dirk Madero?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma’am. Finally got named to the Hall of Fame last year. We’re just here to reach out to some of the smaller communities who give us a lot of support…and to raise a little money for children’s cancer while we’re at it.”

  This was a no-brainer. Dirk Madero was Eli’s hero since he was a kid. I have no idea what he did exactly, but I know he must have been pretty good at it.

  “Well, I will definitely take a signed jersey, Mr. Madero.”

  He took a #50 jersey from the stack next to him on the counter and signed it.

  “Make it To Eli,” I said. “Do you have anything from an actual game?”

  He looked like he was thinking something over.

  “Eli even played the same position as you in high school and college – ‘Middle’ something.”

  “Middle linebacker,” he said, and bent over to get something under the counter.

  “Yes! That’s it. You knocked people down and stole the ball away. Sorry I don’t know much about football...my dad was a baseball guy. Not a player, but a big fan, so I know a lot about that game.”

  He stood up with a banged up and bruised helmet in his hand. “I was thinking about giving this to the Hall of Fame. They wanted it, but if I can help out my charity and make someone happy, I might be convinced to let it go. I wore it in the championship game in 1999.”

  That rang a bell in my mind, since Eli was always reminiscing about the golden age of football and the 1999 championship. “That wasn’t the game where you knocked down the quarterback five times and then took the ball away and ran it in for a touchdown to win the game, was it?”

  Dirk smiled. “For a lady who doesn’t know anything about football, that was a pretty good rundown of what happened. Yes, Ma’am…”

  “I’m Lily.”

  “Yes, Lily. Four-and-a-half sacks and a game-winning interception right off Joe Danberry’s hand. The Hall of Fame already has that ball, so they don’t really need the helmet.”

  “Well, around this town you had five sacks, Mr.…”

  “Dirk.”

  “…Dirk. Eli says you were robbed and clearly had the guy on the ground before your teammates piled on.”

  “Football is a team sport, Lily.”

  He signed the helmet with a marker:

  To Eli –

  From one mlb to another,

  I’ll knock ’em down

  and you cuff ’em!

  #50

  Dirk Madero

  He showed me the other side of the helmet. “Coach Varda and my line signed it after the game for me too. The Children’s Cancer Fund would appreciate whatever you think is fair, Lily.”

  Good thing I stopped by the bank this morning. I knew this had a lot of value – a couple thousand probably – so I gave him the bank envelope with a hundred-dollar bill and $200 more in twenties.

  He counted out five twenties and handed them back to me.

  “I’m not going to take all your money, Lily. I just want it to have a good home with people who I know won’t put it up for sale on eBay.”

  I leaned across the counter and gave him a hug. I was going to be a real hero this Christmas. Nothing could top this.

  “If you’re here after 3:00 tomorrow, Dirk, say hi to Santa. That’ll be Eli.”

  “I’ll do it, ma’am.”

  “But tell him you’re out of jerseys!”

  That was a nice way to start out my evening of shopping. The gift I was struggling with the most was out of the way, and I still had a hundred dollars, a bounce in my step, and half a cup of hot wassail.

  The market took on a sort of surreal look and feel as I ventured ahead past more of the booths, with my mind turning back to Mildred and the vandalism.

  I passed The Feline Mystique and caught a glimpse of Jules’ ex-grandmother, Maggie, cackling in a sinister sounding way. She really did give off the impression of a Cruella DeVille kind of character. Maybe she did it. She sells cat food and supplies, the same as Mildred. Maybe she wanted to get rid of the competition and win herself a coat made of Dalmatians, or whatever her company gives out instead of pink Cadillacs. I mean, she had a bunch of husbands who all died after they married her, so it’s a real possibility.

  I passed Zandy’s Henna Tattoo Parlor and saw Ezzy’s older brother, Noah, overseeing the operation with the same dour look as his father in his dark, deep-set eyes. Maybe Mildred caught him spraying graffiti or destroying her shop, and he clubbed her with the walking stick from the family’s other shop.

  The Happy Cat was open again. I think Mildred was still on bed rest for another week or two, but I saw Gladys restocking and straightening up the display. Poor girl. It seemed like she almost lost her mind when her dearest friend got attacked. She looked busy, so I figured I would say hello on my way back.

  Next there was Enoch Glendenning, the patriarch and Gypsy King lording over the Bee’s Knees shop. He had the demeanor of every top-tier gangster you’ve ever seen in a movie – well-groomed, perfectly pressed and tailored clothes, shiny shoes, and power just oozing out of every pore. Maybe he lived by his own rules and would do anything to protect his family’s interests. Maybe one of the shopkeepers looked at one of his daughters the wrong way. Maybe someone stole something from his shop, and this was Gypsy justice. I don’t know. Daniel wasn’t there. That was unusual.

  “Hey, Lily!”

  I heard a friendly voice to my left and turned to see two smiling faces – one with a bouncy blonde ponytail. It was Cora Applegate and Dr. Sandy Dawson. They were both inside the tiny booth leaning on the high counter between stacks of brochures and bags of their homemade cat kibble.

  “Hi, girls!” They looked so pretty and pleasant. I thought of something Eli had told me once: Pleasant people are often hiding a lot of pent up aggression. Never count anybody out just because they’re nice. Well, they did sell cat food, but they were healers – right?

  “Doing some shopping?” Sandy asked, noticing my big plastic bag with the precious helmet.

  Was that the face of a person who would try to kill somebody?

  “Yep. One down and three to go. I suppose you two are all done.”

  “Well,” Cora said, “the two of us exchange gifts with each other, and that’s about it for us. Last year Sandy got me a ticket for a seniors’ tour of Miami Beach and a play.”

  That sounded interesting. “Tell me more. That might be something I could do for my aunts, Essie and Hildie.”

  “Oh, they’d love it!” Cora said. “We took a chartered bus down on Saturday morning, took in the early matinee of Phantom of the Opera in the afternoon, and then had a beautiful cocktail cruise around the harbor with dinner and dancing and all the city lights. Then the next day, after a night in a nice hotel, we had plenty of time to see all the fancy shops in South Beach before we headed back home.”

  Bingo. Might be a little spendy, but they’re worth it. I got the info on booking the tour from Sandy. Now I just had to grab something for Jules, and I’d be done!

  “Thanks, Cora. Oh – and you�
��re going to have to give me a cutting from your oleander bush too. It would be so nice to have something that would flower this time of year.”

  Sandy gave Cora a peculiar look. Maybe she wondered why Cora never offered her a piece of her beautiful plant.

  “Oh, sure, Lily…but it takes a little extra trickery to get some of them to be in bloom all the time, you know.”

  That’s probably why she had them all over her dining room. “Yeah, I’ll probably kill it in a month. Well, we’ll see.”

  Ezzy was singing with the carolers this evening, attracting big crowds, and her cousin, Miss Sarah, was in the fortune-telling booth. I would have to make sure that I saw Ezzy before everything wrapped up on Sunday.

  I made my way down to the end of the cobblestone path to Santa’s wintery palace. Jerry Thatcher, the official jokester of Sinking Springs Retirement Village, was in the red suit and sitting on the throne tonight with a long line of kids waiting to see him. His girlfriend, Martha White, was his Mrs. Claus.

  I gradually made my way back to the Cabana East at the other end of the marketplace. Happy Cat was already closed, so I didn’t get a chance to talk to Gladys. I hope she’s doing better now.

  “It’s about time you got back here!” Essie greeted me.

  I guess I was gone longer than I had thought. Bingo was over, Jules was sitting at a table with Moira, and Eli was at the counter with his dad, Harvey. I stashed my gifts in a cupboard in the kitchen and rolled up my sleeves to help serve the big crowd.

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  Chapter Nine

  Saturday morning was bright and sunny, and it had the feel of a big day – like something important was going to happen. Maybe I felt that way because I spent last night wrapping the jersey and helmet for Eli. I guess that whole thing had put me in a positive mood.

  I also had already called Ageless Tours and got the ball rolling on my gift for Essie and Hildie. I just had to pick the right weekend and try to slyly find out if they’d rather see Frozen on ice or Cabaret. I had a feeling that Hildie and Essie would have opposite preferences on that, so maybe waiting a month for The Sound of Music would be a good compromise. It was actually cheaper than I expected.

 

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