Elizabeth seemed unhappy about this and said under her breath, “After all the work we did.”
No one seemed to be paying attention to the lemon curd tarts Marissa had bought for us. They looked delicious, as usual, but no one wanted to miss a word I was saying.
“Kay, what about the recorder?” Deirdre asked.
“That Friday night, when Sherman entered the bar to interview Dr. Anders, he had the recorder turned on and must have had it tucked into the pocket of his coat. It recorded everything for the next thirty hours.”
I helped myself to the lemon tarts and cut into one with my fork but left the piece right on the plate. I was staring at it when Mary Ann said, “Sherman must have forgotten to let Dr. Anders know he would be recording the interview. He always let everyone know so he wouldn’t have to take notes.”
“Good thing he forgot,” Deirdre said. “Perhaps he forgot on purpose.”
“Is the electronic evidence admissible?” Elizabeth asked leaning over the table reaching for the teapot. Her dress was so tight I was surprised it didn't suffocate her. Her napkin fell from her lap, and when she tried to bend over to pick it up, her clothes rendered her immobile. She took another from the table.
“It is.” I smiled. “Thom said digital evidence has increased in cases in recent years. Under the Federal Rules of Evidence, relevant evidence, including digital, is now admissible.”
“They'll all be put away for a very long time,” Mary Ann said with satisfaction. She took a bite of the tart, and for the first time, I saw her smiling. “Yummy,” she said.
“Agreed,” I said, finally tasting the piece I had cut earlier.
“We only saw them take five people away at the cemetery,” Elizabeth said.
“Yes, Kay. Who was the sixth person?” Deirdre asked. “Laska?”
“Richard Laska?” Mary Ann repeated.
“No. I was wrong about him,” I said, looking over at Elizabeth. She smiled an I-knew-it-all-along smile.
“Ted,” I said. “It was Ted.”
“Ted who?” Deirdre and Elizabeth both asked at the same time.
“Ted Michaels.”
“Our Ted Michaels?” Deirdre asked with incredulity. “Oh my gosh!”
Elizabeth's hand flew to her chest. “You're kidding?”
Marissa's mouth fell open.
Deirdre abruptly put down her teacup. It made a loud clink against the saucer. “I sensed Ted was too good to be true,” Deirdre said, sounding very off-hand.
“You know, Ted owns the vacant store,” I said.
“And the patisserie,” Marissa reminded us.
“After I ran out of the vacant store, they later broke into Marissa’s and kept Sherman there for a few hours in case the 'intruder' came back.”
“So that's what Angie and her friends saw the night of the Halloween Ball,” Deirdre exclaimed.
“Yes, they told me when they came trick-or-treating,” I said.
I continued, and they could hardly believe it when I said, “The authorities caught up with Ted at his house, loading suitcases into his car after Margaret's funeral. They found the missing calendar page from Sherman's diary on his closet floor. It indicated that Sherman was meeting with Dr. Anders.”
Marissa rose from her chair. I sensed she wanted to get us more tea or something, but she also did not want to miss any of the conversation. She just stood there, attentive to every word.
“Ted must have suspected there was going to be a takedown,” Elizabeth said. “I wonder why he even came to the church. He could have gotten away.”
“They apprehended him before they arrived at the cemetery. They kept him in one of the vehicles while the Police Chief and agents retrieved the others,” I said.
I continued on and told about the college students listed on the hidden sheet of paper in Sherman's office. They had researched the same ginseng and paid for their efforts with their lives. I ended with John Stewart killing Sandra Ploughman.
“Most disturbing,” Marissa said. “Kay, remember how deranged I told you he acted when I climbed over his fence to get that pumpkin. It makes me wonder what might have happened if he’d caught me when there weren’t other people around.” She was still standing by our table without making a move.
“So now we know where Sherman’s DNA findings came from,” Elizabeth said. “What's the story on Dr. Richard Stewart?” Elizabeth asked. “One of the clan, I assume.”
I told them about Dr. Stewart modifying the ginseng, and John Stewart selling it.
“Did Thom say what the deal was with the hooded robes?” Elizabeth asked. “Was I right? They thought the Halloween Ball would be an ideal cover for their robes?”
“You were, Elizabeth.”
She smiled. “But why all the same robes?”
“There's something cryptic about that,” Deirdre said.
“I don't know. Thom didn't say.”
“Maybe they had some secret society going on,” Elizabeth said.
A silence followed her words. I couldn't suppress a wry smile.
“And they used the ginseng to advance their spiritual progress and enlightenment.” Elizabeth laughed. “Hmm.”
We all snickered, even Mary Ann. That brought some needed relief back into the room.
“Kay, it was so lucky you decided to follow those two hooded people into the store that night,” Deirdre said with approval.
I looked at Deirdre. Her comment struck me dumb for a minute. I never thought it lucky about anything that happened these past few weeks, especially going into the vacant store where this had all started for me. My life had been a nightmare since. Deirdre continued, “If you hadn't noticed those two people with the hooded robes going into the vacant store, Sherman's murder would probably never have been discovered.”
“And his death would have stayed an accidental drowning,” Mary Ann said. “Thank you, Kay.”
My eyes welled up. I wouldn’t even have paid attention to the robes if I hadn’t been curious and saw Earl’s robe in the smaller trunk up in Margaret’s attic. “You're welcome, Mary Ann. Before he left, Thom wanted me to thank all of you for your hard work and dedication in this investigation.” My voice broke up.
We all looked around at each other. Tears began to fall. In the end, we were able to take vengeance for the deaths of Sherman, Margaret, and Alicia by delivering the necessary evidence to solve the case to the FBI. Justice had been served, but we didn’t feel a sense of victory. One of us had lost a husband and the others, good friends. I had, indeed, worked well with Elizabeth and Deirdre as a team.
Marissa excused herself from the room and returned a few minutes later with a tray of scrumptious-looking chocolate praline éclairs and fresh pots of tea.
After everyone refilled their cup, I held mine up and made a toast looking to each of them. “To our lasting friendship...to our friends and loved ones whom we have lost...and to my retirement as an amateur sleuth!”
“Don't speak too soon,” Deirdre said, putting her cup down at that last pronouncement. “I don't know about that retirement. I had a vision yesterday of you working on another case.”
“What do you mean? A case involving whom?” Elizabeth asked.
“I'm not sure, but I think it's someone we know.”
* * * *
On the walk home, I decided to ignore Deirdre's vision. I couldn't think of what was going to happen next. I needed to get over what had just happened and enjoy the calm, in fact, revel in it. I opened the kitchen door and found a note Phil left saying he went to the store to get an ingredient for tonight's dinner.
I climbed the stairs to change into something more comfortable. The yellow mailer lying on the bed was staring at me. I picked it up. Why relive the horror of these past few weeks? Didn't I just think about reveling in the calm of now?
I put the mailer down, went into my closet, and took out my favorite pair of comfortable loden green corduroy pants and a black turtleneck sweater. Thom did say Al used everyone's real
names in the manuscript. I changed my clothes and walked back over to the bed. How could he have used the awful happenings in Sudbury Falls to write the type of book he was so fond of, the kind he and I had discussed together often at the post office?
Curiosity got the better of me. I sat down on the bed, opened the mailer, and took out the manuscript. I started reading.
The Ginseng Conspiracy
Professor Walters climbed the last of the stairs to Sonnie's bar. He peered through the window of the pub, and saw Dr. Anders waiting in the last booth with his back to the wall, looking at the door...
Sayings Found on the Benches in the Enchanted Meadow
The grip of fear
Irrational but unmistakable,
An unexpected factor.
In the movement of their eyes,
People give themselves away.
It reveals everything.
no other proof is necessary.
A comfortable silence
Other than the racing of the heart,
No words necessary,
Breath caught in the throat,
The warm touch of skin,
Then, a shiver.
Eyes cold as steel,
The clever manipulative murderer
A nasty piece of work.
An intensified sense of urgency
Provoking decisive action
Taking risks, lacking restraint.
Music floats slowly
Through a dimly lit room.
Nostalgic, rhythmic, melancholy;
A note rises up the wall amid the shadows
And fades.
Herbs of mighty power,
Knowledge of truth.
A thing cannot act
Where it is not.
Can the end be achieved
By ordinary means?
In the quiet of the morning,
You only have to rise
To feel something's wrong.
Uncontrollable circumstances
Tense the air, and you know
Something's going to happen.
Walking in the park,
Arms around each others' waist,
The only thing in the world that matters
Is you and me.
Later with bodies intertwined,
Enchantment.
Falling into a spell
Bright with the rays of the sun
Shining splendor.
Fluid interaction
between unconscious and wakeful.
Amazed at the onslaught of words heard,
Explanations were given,
Causes and consequences
All told.
Sometimes there are things more crucial than survival.
Evil lurks in the shadows
Seeking its next victim.
It hides its true intention.
Be afraid.
Prepare for the unexpected.
About the Author
Susan Bernhardt is an author living in Wisconsin. Like Kay Driscoll in her cozy mystery, The Ginseng Conspiracy, Susan is a retired public health nurse who volunteers at her local free clinic. An avid reader of mysteries, she is a member of Sisters in Crime, Inc. Her other published works include “October 31st”, “Midsummer”, and “John and Madeline.”
Susan's town in northern Wisconsin was an inspiration for the quaint setting of her novel. She lives with her husband, William, and has two sons, Peter and David.
When not writing, Susan loves to travel, bicycle, kayak, and create culinary magic in her kitchen. She works in stained-glass, daydreams in her organic garden, stays up late reading mysteries, and eats lots of chocolate.
* * * *
Did you enjoy The Ginseng Conspiracy? If so, please help us spread the word about Susan Bernhardt and MuseItUp Publishing. It's as easy as:
•Recommend the book to your family and friends
•Post a review
•Tweet and Facebook about it
Thank you
MuseItUp Publishing
For my husband, Bill,
my two sons, Peter and David,
and my parents, Anne and Bill.
—With love—
Acknowledgements
(i) I'm delighted to acknowledge Peter Bernhardt and Lorenzo Martinez, my two dedicated co-editors while writing The Ginseng Conspiracy. You both were indispensable and made it all happen. Peter, thank you for your ingenious editing, your enthusiasm, and energy. Lorenzo, I'm deeply indebted for your tireless reviewing of my chapters, sharing your expertise, and imaginative suggestions.
David Bazan, thank you for your creative ideas and insight, and for your continual encouragement and enthusiastic support.
Special thanks to my husband, Bill, who listened to my chapters numerous times and most times put up with my brainstorming, and to my son, David and daughter-in-law, Nicole, for cheering me on all the way.
I would like to thank my niece, Anne Rusert, for taking my photo for my website and the back cover of The Ginseng Conspiracy.
(ii) Thank you to the rest of my dear family and friends, especially those who supported me on my website www.susanbernhardt.com and for all who thoughtfully remembered to ask, "How is the book coming?" I appreciate your ongoing moral support.
I'd like to thank my stellar MuseItUp content editor, June Diehl and outstanding, line editor, Shawn Arntson. You both were a pleasure to work with.
The Ginseng Conspiracy © 2014 by Susan Bernhardt
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
MuseItUp Publishing
14878 James, Pierrefonds, Quebec, Canada, H9H 1P5
Cover Art © 2013 by Suzannah Safi
Edited by P. June Diehl
Copyedited by Shawn Arntson
Layout and Book Production by Lea Schizas
eBook ISBN: 978-1-77127-472-2
First eBook Edition *January 2014
MuseItUp Publishing
Where Muse authors entertain readers!
https://museituppublishing.com
Visit our website for more books for your reading pleasure.
You can also find us on Facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/MuseItUp
and on Twitter:
http://twitter.com/MusePublishing
The Ginseng Conspiracy (A Kay Driscoll Mystery) Page 26