by Carol Durand
“Melissa, don’t!” Livvy shrieked. “Put the cake down right now,” she ordered, seeming on the verge of hysteria. Amanda started to get up, seemingly put off by the outburst, and Olivia clamped a hand on her wrist. “Oh no, Mandy, you’re not going anywhere, I’m sorry.” When the widow wrenched her arm from Olivia’s grasp, offended, and headed for the foyer, Livvy screamed, “Someone stop her, she tried to kill Melissa!”
Reacting quickly, Reginald stood and intercepted the fleeing widow, hugging her tightly to his chest as she wriggled and struggled to get away, eventually giving up and collapsing into tears, her head on Reggie’s chest. Stunned, Missy carefully set down her fork, well aware that her plate may have just become part of a criminal investigation.
“What’s the meaning of this, Olivia?” Chas demanded quietly.
His sister was clearly miserable. “I didn’t want to say anything, because I know Mandy is grieving, but, when she got up from the table, I followed her. She didn’t go to the ladies’ room, she went to the kitchen, where the servers had laid out the desserts on trays, in the order that they were to be served. Mandy took a packet of something out of her purse and sprinkled it on the dessert for the person in the first seat next to the end of the table, Melissa’s plate. She didn’t know that I had seen her, and when she came back and had that strange look of satisfaction on her face, I knew that I had to say something. Look, for all we know, it may just be a laxative, or a sedative, or something, but I didn’t want to take any chances.”
Chas motioned for the butler to come over, and when the man leaned down, gave him orders in a low voice.
“Right away, Mr. Beckett,” the man nodded and slipped from the room.
The detective then turned his gaze to his brother, who was by now, supporting a very faint and still-mewling Amanda Heatherington. “Reginald, escort Amanda to the parlor. Carlson will meet you there shortly with some tea and lemon cloths,” he directed, referring to the butler. Reggie led the widow from the room while the other guests stared after them, astonished.
“Ladies and gentlemen, forgive me, but I must cut our time together short in order to take care of a clearly delicate matter. Thank you for your company this evening, your cars are being brought around in the circular drive,” Chas dismissed the guests, leaving no room for questions or argument, and they filed out of the dining room, speaking to one another in hushed tones.
Chapter 16
Clucking and muttering like a disgruntled mother hen, Maggie escorted Missy back to her room when the police arrived. The nurturing woman insisted that Missy take her arm, despite protests that she felt fine, and promised to return with a pitcher of iced water and a pot of tea, once she saw that her charge was safely tucked away in her room.
Missy curled up on the bed, worn out from her first day of being up and about after her head injury. She tried to read, but couldn’t focus, her mind continually jumping to the scene at the dinner table. Chas had promised that he would come up to fill her in once the police left, but she had no idea what to do with herself in the meantime. When Maggie came back in, bearing a tray with iced water, tea, cookies and a small piece of chocolate “just for smiles, lass,” Missy asked her to run a bath, hoping it would help her to relax.
Soaking in the warm, bubbly water, Missy did relax a bit, but the stress and strain of the day hit her with full force, draining her of all energy, and she was grateful that the stout maid had stayed nearby to help her from the tub.
“There now, lil miss,” Maggie cooed soothingly, plumping the pillows, helping Missy into bed and pulling the light comforter up over her. “A bit of rest will do yer poor tired body a world of good,” she promised.
“Thank you so much, Maggie,” Missy murmured, already close to sleep.
When Chas quietly poked his head in, hours later, she was so profoundly asleep that he refused to wake her, knowing that he could fill her in on what had happened in the morning. Smiling at the peaceful slumber of his beautiful beloved, he closed her door softly and headed for bed.
**
“So, what happened?” Missy demanded, popping a grape into her mouth from the generous breakfast tray that Maggie had brought.
“Well, unfortunately, it turns out that Livvy was correct, Amanda did try to poison you. The police ran the substance on your plate through the lab and discovered that the powder that she used was the same powder that was used to kill her husband.”
Missy gasped. “Amanda killed her husband? That’s horrible! Why would she do such a thing? And why on earth would she try to kill me?” Tears sprung to her eyes as she realized just how close she had come to taking a bite of cake that could’ve been her last.
“That’s my fault, I’m afraid,” Chas said, making a face. “Amanda confessed to killing Giles when she saw what she thought was my official return to society. She figured that if her husband wasn’t standing in the way, she’d be free to have the relationship with me that she and her parents have always wanted. Once she eliminated Giles, the only thing, in her estimation, standing between her and me…was you,” he explained, looking pained.
Missy’s hand went to her head injury. “Was she the one who…?” she asked, eyes wide.
Chas nodded. “She admitted to attacking you, and when police searched her car, they discovered a tennis racket in the trunk with blood and curly blond hairs on it,” he said grimly.
“She tried to bludgeon me with a tennis racket?”
“She always did have a heck of a backhand,” Chas commented dryly.
“What about my tummy troubles after dinner last week? Was that her too?” Missy asked.
“There was a different poison used, but, yes, she admitted to that as well.”
Missy stared into space for a moment, taking it all in. “Wow, it looks like I’m pretty fortunate to have survived,” she murmured, turning her pained gaze to the handsome detective.
“I’d say that I’m the fortunate one,” he replied, tilting her chin up for a kiss.
Chapter 17
Althea Browning breezed into Missy’s favorite Italian restaurant carrying a large tote bag filled with magazines, fabric samples, CD’s, invitation catalogs, and more, thrilled to begin her wedding plan. For two hours, the delightful young woman chattered non-stop about colors, themes, finding the perfect dress and bridesmaids dresses, and all other things that made planning a wedding such fun. After the grim time that Missy had spent with Chas’s family in New York, being in the company of a sweet young woman who was facing her future with joy and optimism was like a healing balm to her wounded spirit, and she soaked it in gratefully, caught up in the bride’s enthusiasm.
The meeting with Althea went very well, and despite the fact that Missy had only agreed to helping the girl because she felt that Mayor Felton gave her no other choice, she wondered if wedding planning might not be a bad idea to add to her business resume, at least on a part-time basis.
Both of the cupcake shops had done well in Missy’s absence, thanks to the dedication of her staff, and as usual, Grayson and Cheryl had spent some extra time in the kitchen of the LaChance location concocting new recipes for her to try upon her return.
Missy sat down to enjoy a bowl of the latest creation that Echo, her friend who owned the vegan ice cream shop across the street from her Dellville shop, had put together. The two friends hadn’t been able to sit and talk for quite some time, and having a little “girl-time” was a treat for both of them.
“Wow,” Missy’s free-spirited friend shook her head in amazement. “The first time you go visit Mr. Wonderful’s family, you almost get snuffed. Crazy stuff. You should write a book,” she teased. “And that handsome hunk of a man is rich too? Girl, you hit the lottery with that one,” she teased, knowing that money was something that wasn’t terribly important to either of them.
“I tried to break up with him you know,” Missy confessed, taking a bite of her Almond Carob Coconut Dream frozen treat. “Mmmm…you’re going to make me fat,” she commented, th
oroughly enjoying her treat.
“Nah, it’s organic,” Echo replied dismissively. “You tried to break up with him? Are you crazy, woman??”
“In hindsight, yes, I did let my insecurity go to my head, but you don’t know what it was like seeing the entirely alien world that he comes from,” Missy shook her head, remembering.
“Oh come on, how bad could it have been?” her friend challenged. “That man is crazy about you, and has been for quite some time,” she reminded her.
“Thankfully, he cared enough to keep coming back even when I pushed him away,” Missy murmured.
“You lucky girl,” Echo grinned at her lovestruck friend. “Now we need to find a man for me,” she teased.
“Cupcake baker, wedding planner, I guess I could add match-maker to my list too,” she giggled at the thought.
“When does Prince Charming get back from New York?”
Missy scraped the remaining dregs of flavor from the bottom of her bowl. “Tonight. I can’t wait,” she sighed with a dreamy smile.
“So, I’m guessing that dinner and a movie with your best gal pal is out of the question?” Echo replied with a mischievous grin.
“Raincheck,” Missy winked, handing her the empty bowl.
**
After chatting with Echo, Missy headed home to get ready for Chas’s homecoming. She wanted to look extra special, fully prepared to run into his arms at the airport. She took a shower, carefully applied a touch of makeup and put on a pretty sundress that she had purchased for the occasion. She had just touched up her lip gloss for the final time before heading out the door, when her phone rang. She didn’t recognize the out-of-state number, and debated for a moment about whether she should answer it or let it go to voicemail, finally opting to pick up the call.
“Hello?” her tone was hurried, and a bit impatient as she reached for her keys, heading for the door.
“Melissa, it’s Reginald Beckett. There’s been an accident.”
Chapter 18
Winding his way through the curves and turns of gorgeous New York countryside, a quaint rock wall on his right, with a treeline several yards behind it, a heavily wooded sheer drop-off to his left, Detective Chas Beckett smiled indulgently at the cartoon representation of the family on the rear windshield of the minivan in front of him, the mommy, daddy, and two kids stick figures seeming to dance. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, and he was headed to the airport to fly home to the most amazing woman ever, all was well in Chas’s world. He had helped his local police department wrap up the murder case and was glad to have the nasty business behind him.
Cresting a hill that opened up to a picturesque vista with a steep, downhill stretch of two-lane highway and approaching a turn that veered sharply to the left, Chas carefully applied the brakes to avoid following the family van too closely, startled when there seemed to be no response. Pressing more firmly, then finally stomping his foot to the floor, the detective realized that the brakes were useless, and his rental car was accelerating rapidly, headed for the sharp curve at the bottom of the hill.
Lightning fast, he analyzed his situation, looking for the best response. There was enough oncoming traffic, that veering to the left and hoping that the towering trees would stop his progress was not an option. Continuing to pick up speed and crashing into the family van in front of him was also not an option, which left him with only one possible course of action. Forcibly willing his muscles to relax, knowing that it would lessen the impact of a crash upon his body, he wrenched the steering wheel to the right, headed straight for the low rock wall and the treed slope behind it.
Adrenalin surged through the determined detective who was willing to risk his life rather than put the safety of others in jeopardy. In a flash, he’d jumped the shoulder and crashed through the rock wall, the air bag slamming into his chest and taking his breath away while shards of glass rained like glittering ice chips through the interior and the scream of metal tearing and folding in on itself pierced the sunny calm of the day. The crumpled car continued its descent, picking up speed as it flew down the embankment, a huge boulder finally halting its progress with a bone-jarring crash, the bloody detective slumped inside.
Chapter 19
Missy called Echo after hanging up with Chas’s brother, so distraught that she could barely speak. Her friend came over immediately, armed with an ample supply of Missy’s favorite Vanilla Bean Ice Dream and a bottle of French wine. Putting the frozen treat in the freezer, Echo poured them each a glass of wine and ordered a very emotional Missy to sit down in the living room so that they could talk.
“Now, tell me what his brother said on the phone,” her friend encouraged softly as Missy took a huge gulp of wine, trying to calm herself. Toffee came over and laid her head in her owner’s lap, gazing up at her with warm brown eyes, and Bitsy nestled next to her feet.
“He said that Chas had been in a car accident in the mountains and that he was lucky. He has several nasty cuts and bruises, but the air bag saved him from any serious injury,” Missy replied, her breath hitching in between words.
“See…” Echo soothed. “Everything is going to be fine. Why did Reginald call you instead of Chas though?” she asked, puzzled.
“Chas’s phone was destroyed in the crash. They had to…” she stopped for a moment, unable to continue. Taking another sip of wine and a deep breath, she continued. “They had to cut the car into pieces to get him out of the wreckage.” Her voice broke at the end, and she made a Herculean effort to keep from breaking down again.
“So, why did he crash? What happened?”
Missy shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know. Reggie hinted that there was more to the story, but said that Chas would be able to fill me in when he comes home tomorrow.”
Echo smiled brightly, always looking on the sunny side of things. “Well, he can’t be too badly hurt if he’ll be home tomorrow, right?” she said, refilling Missy’s glass. “And, unless you want to be hungover when you greet him at the airport, this is your last glass of the night, I’m cutting you off, my friend,” she teased, eliciting a wan smile from her friend.
“What would I do without you?” Missy asked, her eyes brimming with tears.
“We’ll never have to know,” was the reply, followed by a warm hug.
Chapter 20
Tears rolled freely down Missy’s cheeks when she saw Chas limping down the jetway toward her. She threw herself into his embrace, instantly regretting it when he winced.
“Oh my goodness, did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, Chas. I was so worried about you, are you okay?” she babbled, crying in earnest.
He had cuts with stitches on the left side of his face and his forehead, a black eye, and bruises that seemed to purple him from head to toe. “It’s okay, sweetie, I’m fine,” he assured her, gently pulling her back into his arms and kissing her hair, despite his split and swollen lips. “The airbag bruised my ribs, that’s all,” he soothed. Once she had calmed down a bit, they headed for the car, glad to be together again, taking comfort from each other’s company.
Touching him at all times, almost as if to assure herself that he was real, Missy walked slowly beside the battered detective to the parking garage, refusing to allow him to drive home, despite his repeated assurances that he was more than capable. Once they were in the car and headed for the safety and security of home, Missy asked him for more details about the accident.
“There were a couple of things found in the wreckage that clued the police in to what had happened,” he explained grimly. “The first was a tiny hole in the reservoir that held the brake fluid, the second was a note, in Amanda’s handwriting, that had been placed in the glove compartment.”
“There was a note?” Missy said, frowning at the mention of Amanda Heatherington’s name. “What did it say?”
Chas sighed, not wanting to reveal the note’s heinous message, but knowing that he couldn’t protect his lovely girlfriend from it, eventually it would be on the news. Repo
rters had already begun hanging around the gates to the mansion, hoping for an interview, and he’d had to shoo them away at the hospital. “It said, If I can’t have you, no one can,” he said reluctantly.
Tears welling in her eyes, Missy digested the information, saying nothing at first. Swiping away her tears with the back of her hand, she took a deep breath. “She’s sick,” she said finally. “Clearly sick. She wanted something so badly that she was willing to kill to get it, and when she couldn’t, she tried to destroy it. To destroy you,” she shuddered.
“It seems as though tampering with the car was her back-up plan. If her attempts to poison you hadn’t worked, we’d have both been killed on our way to the airport. At least, that was her intention,” Chas explained, shaking his head, knowing just how close he’d come to never seeing Missy again.
“Did she admit to it?”
The detective grimaced. “Proudly. She was just so pleased with her own cleverness. She hasn’t shown any remorse for killing Giles or attempting to kill us. Her confessions sound like bragging,” he shook his head.
“Do you think she’s insane?” Missy asked in a small voice.
“It’s possible,” he shrugged. “If the choices are between insane and evil, I guess I’d like to believe that she was insane.”
“Did you ever have any inkling when you dated her that she was capable of such horrendous behavior?”
“Well, first, we only went on a handful of dates, so I really wouldn’t consider it “dating,” but no, I never picked up on that side of her personality. She seemed needy, selfish, more than a bit spoiled, but this was a shock. I guess I never paid enough attention to her to have picked up on any subtle clues that she might have been leaving,” he admitted.