Mystic Falls

by Vickie McKeehan

  “I’ll watch you turn the pages until it’s time to take you to bed.”

  She grinned and stepped into his arms, laid a hand on his cheek. “I’ve missed you these last few days. But why does it always have to be so difficult between us?”

  He kissed her mouth, tender at first and then fierce before resting his head on hers. “I’ve been told that anything worth having is never easy. Look how hard my own mother had it after my dad died. She worked her ass off with three kids to support. His death wasn’t fair to any of us, but it happened just the same. And through it all my mom persevered. To this day she’s one of the strongest people I know. You and I, we grew up without fathers. We just need to try harder to appreciate what we’ve built between us, appreciate what we have more often than we do. Sometimes we’re careless with each other.”

  “You were always good with words. All right, then I look forward to tonight.”

  “Yeah? So do I. Where’s Rufus?”

  “I left him at home. He just won’t stop licking the floor when he’s here and Natalie Henwick threatened to turn me in for a long list of health violations that day she was here with the book club. She suggested I tie him to the pole outside. That’s not gonna happen.”

  “I thought Natalie was a dog lover. Want me to have a chat with her in her real estate office down the street? Read her the riot act?”

  “Would you?”

  “You bet. I love Rufus.” He grabbed her for another kiss. “See you tonight. I gotta get to work now before I strip your clothes off right here and take you on one of these tables.”

  “In broad daylight? Why Lando Bonner, what would people say?”

  “Who gives a hang? That’s how much I missed you these past few days.”

  “Okay. But maybe take a nap later. You look like you could use the sleep. I think you might need your strength for tonight.”

  “For the rest of the day keep picturing all the things I’m gonna do to you tonight when we’re alone.”

  She fanned herself. “Maybe you should text me a couple of suggestions later.”

  “I’ll do that.” He kissed her again and was out the door.

  Left alone, she stood in the middle of the shop dreading what she had to do. She decided she still had time before the store opened to follow Paloma’s advice and dig through the clutter in the old living quarters upstairs to see if she could locate anything worthwhile that might help her make better chocolate.

  She started in the small cramped quarters that passed for back bedrooms, sneezing in rapid succession at the dust that tickled her nose.

  In what used to be home to her immigrant grandparents until they could afford to buy a house of their own, she went room to room. Going through every drawer and closet in the place, she worked her way into the living room, which was nothing more than a small landing. There wasn’t much to search here, a few drawers in the end tables, a quick look behind the dated couch and under it. She even pulled off the cushions and ran her hand in the crevices. But none of it yielded anything except a handful of loose change.

  She saved the little kitchen for last, a galley really, thumbing through every old cookbook still stacked on the shelves. When she turned the hardcovers upside down, yellowish newspaper clippings fell out between the pages. There were articles that touted new ways to fix hamburger meat, ways you could stretch your budget, dated 1974, and a few interesting articles about local events. A few recipes had been clipped from magazines or peeled off Carnation Evaporated Milk cans. Some had even been cut from cereal boxes. But none had anything to do with whipping up candy.

  Dejected, she headed back downstairs to try her hand once again at making truffles people would find tasty enough to buy. Without the help or guidance from her grandmother she felt the pressure build up again to get it right.

  She started the coffee pot. Once the smell of strong brew drifted in the air, she got out her pestle and mortar and began the process of crushing the cacao beans to a fine powder. She had to admit Paloma might be right---there was something cathartic about pounding the beans into dust. The aroma alone was worth the effort. She could get used to the smell of fresh chocolate.

  Just as she began to cream the sugar and butter together, she heard a noise behind her. It sounded like someone jiggling the lock on the back door. Suddenly, the wood broke and the door gave way. A lone figure, his head covered in a mask, dashed through the opening toward her.

  Gemma turned and grabbed the first thing she could reach---the coffee pot. Wielding the decanter like a weapon, she spun around and brought it hard up against the side of the man’s head.

  The pot exploded in hot liquid and glass.

  Without waiting to see if she’d knocked him out, she took off out the front door and down the sidewalk until she reached the corner. Out of breath, her legs felt like rubber. She stopped long enough to glance over her shoulder to see if the guy had followed her, holding on to a lamppost to keep from falling. As soon as she saw that the sidewalk was empty, she made her legs move and dashed across the street toward the police station.

  Louise sat at the front desk with the normal dour expression on her face. “What’s wrong with you?”

  “I need to see Lando. Now.” Gemma didn’t wait for permission but moved past the desk sergeant, scurrying down the hall. She didn’t bother knocking, but barged in and started blurting out what had happened.

  On the phone with the mayor, Lando took one look at the fear on her face, and muttered, “Sorry, Fleet, I’ll have to call you back.”

  He went over to her, put his arms around her trembling shoulders. “What happened to you?”

  “Some guy in a mask broke into the back door of the shop, kicked it in I think. I knocked him out with a coffee pot.”

  Lando pushed her into the nearest chair. “Was he armed? Is he still there?”

  “I don’t know. All I saw was the knife he was carrying. After he went down, I ran like hell out the front door.”

  “Good girl. Stay here for now while I go check it out.” He stood up and pivoted to the hallway, yelling for Payce. “Get in here.”

  His eager-to-please patrolman appeared in the doorway. “What’s up?”

  “Stay with her until I get back. Lock this door. Don’t let anyone in here but me. Understand?”

  “Got it. You can count on me, Chief. Where you goin’?”

  “Over to Gemma’s shop. You keep her here. Make her stay put now or I’ll have your head on a platter when I get back. She can be stubborn.”

  “Be careful, Lando,” Gemma cautioned as the reality of the situation began to sink in. “Don’t worry about me, I’m shaking so hard I’m staying put.”

  “I’m always careful,” he muttered, turning back to give last minute instructions to Payce. “Keep in touch by radio. Any trouble, you contact me.”

  “Don’t you need backup? I should go with you. Louise can watch after…”

  Lando cut him off. “Look, I don’t have time to argue. Just keep Gemma safe for now. Let me check the situation out first. When I give the word bring over a crime scene kit.” With that, he disappeared down the hallway.

  By the time Lando reached the store, he saw the front door was still wide open. He drew his sidearm, a modified Colt Commander, and stepped inside. A puddle of coffee had spilled all over the floor along with broken glass from the pot. He tried to walk around the mess without disturbing any evidence.

  He checked behind the counter, the hallway, and the restroom. But just before he reached the back door he spotted two small drops of blood. “Gemma made you bleed, huh? Good for her.”

  Since the back door was bashed in, he strolled past the broken wood and out into the alleyway. There, he discovered more drops of blood on the concrete and followed the path to the end of the block. But the guy was long gone.

  He double-backed to the crime scene and radioed Payce. “It’s all clear here. Bring over a collection kit for evidence.”

  Gemma insisted on tagging along with Pa
yce. But when they reached the shop, she hesitated going in. “Did I kill him?”

  “No, baby. Once you hit him upside the head, he ran outta here like a little wimp. You did some damage though. He’s probably hurting right about now and who knows, might even need a doctor to stitch up the wound. You say he wore a mask? Did you recognize anything else about him?”

  Gemma shook her head. “He was trying to kill me with a knife. That’s all I recognized. He had gloves on and sneakers. Nikes, I think.” She let out a caustic laugh. “For all my psychic talk, I didn’t see that coming, now did I?”

  Lando and Payce traded glances. But it was Lando who took out a notepad. As calm as he could, he tried to get her to tell him anything else she could remember. “Was he taller than me?”

  “No.”

  “Okay, two inches shorter? Three?”

  “Shorter than that. Maybe five-nine at most. I know that because when I swung the pot…” She turned to reenact the scene. “I came at him like this. And it connected to the side of his head really fast. Bam!”

  “Good. So, we have an assailant that was average in height and probably knew you.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “A stranger wouldn’t have gone to so much trouble to make sure you didn’t recognize him. Wearing a mask and gloves in Coyote Wells at the beginning of June? That’s unheard of and just plain weird.”

  “Oh.” That hadn’t occurred to her. “Someone I know tried to kill me. Why?”

  “Yeah. Now we have to figure that out.”

  “Just like they did Gram,” Gemma whispered.

  Lando took her by the arms. “This guy wanted to scare you, but you come from stronger stuff than that just like Marissa. Payce here will take you home. I’ll finish up with the evidence, swab the blood stains and take care of the rest.”

  She shook her head. “No. I need to clean this mess up myself.”

  “Don’t worry about that. I’ll fix the back door and mop up. You let Payce take you home now. I’ll call Leia to stay with you.”

  When she started to object again, he put a finger to her lips. “Don’t argue with me on this. It’s the right thing to do. Now get out of here.”

  Woodenly, she let herself be led to a police car and crawled into the front seat with Payce behind the wheel.

  “What’s happening to this town?” she asked him.

  “I don’t know. I’ve gone to sleep for the last few months thinking that same thing. All I know is if anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s our chief.”

  As Payce drove away, she hoped that was true.

  25

  Gemma spent the rest of the day doing mindless chores as Leia looked on, chatting a mile a minute. Believe it or not, Leia’s constant babble was a bolstering relief. Because Gemma had to stay busy. She’d already whipped up a batch of her most decadent truffles filled with heavenly apricot ganache and covered in Belgian chocolate and hazelnuts.

  Leia had pronounced the creation a triumph by eating six pieces, one after the other. Even now the chef was regretting gorging on something so rich. But watching Leia binge was like a boon to Gemma’s self-confidence. She’d preserved the exact ingredients by jotting them down on her iPad as she went so she wouldn’t forget how she’d pulled it off.

  Basking in the success, she’d gone on to other things.

  Another task she’d been putting off was to finally take down all the photos of herself that lined the entryway. She was tired of looking at snapshots that were all about her when there were so many better, more interesting pictures that could brighten up the walls.

  She’d found a collection of her grandfather’s professional-looking photographs he’d taken of the coastal landscapes that would surely make the foyer much more exciting than her old school pics ever could.

  Jean-Luc had captured majestic California redwood forests after wild spring rains when the foliage was at its greenest. He’d snaked through the scenic hiking trails that wound up into the mountains to snap glorious panoramic views of the valley. He’d waited patiently for the most picturesque sunsets over the vistas. Over the years, he’d captured the local flavor and color at a slew of farmers’ markets held in the town square.

  By knowing just when the light was best at Mystic Falls he’d preserved its historic beauty. He’d done the same with the sun coming up over Shadow Canyon. And waited out the moon glittering on the waters of Spirit Lake.

  All these were obvious places that had meant a great deal to the man behind the lens. Through the eyes of Jean-Luc, Gemma could see the love he held in his heart for his adopted countryside.

  She stood back and admired the gallery she’d created. “I wonder how many of these places they made love. My guess is quite a few.”

  Leia moved the ladder out of the way to study the nature scenes, tapping the framed photo of one in particular. “If I had to guess, I’d say picnics at Spirit Lake, making love on their blanket next to the shore. Or maybe the waterfall. That’s where you lost your virginity, right, you and Lando? Maybe it’s a family tradition.”

  Gemma grinned. “Could be. Kamena seems to like it there. Why didn’t you ever tell me about Aponivi and Salisaw?”

  Leia looked surprised. “How did you find out about Aponivi and Salisaw?”

  “I spent a delightful afternoon with Callie Lightfeather having tea and cookies.”

  “Why all this sudden interest in Native folklore, Gemma? I mean you never so much as asked these questions before now.”

  “I don’t know. Ever since I found out about Marissa’s talent I’ve gotten curious. I can’t explain how learning that drew me back out to the waterfall where I had one perfect memory as a child. Making the effort to go out there again changed things for me in here,” Gemma said, laying a hand over her heart. “I went there expecting a peaceful interlude to my morning. What I got instead was an actual conversation with a legendary shaman. Ever since, I’ve felt compelled to learn more.”

  “You really have a short, selective memory. You know that? I did tell you stories about the three shaman at a sleepover once. You seemed bored by it all.”

  “Gimme a break, I was eight. Come to think of it, that was the slumber party for my eighth birthday. Don’t you think I feel stupid and ridiculous enough not knowing my own grandmother could read auras, let alone the psychic part? Callie shared that one. She said Marissa was the best at it she’d ever seen. It’s as if I didn’t even notice what Gram did every day. How do you think that makes me feel now?”

  “Guilt is rather powerful after someone dies, especially when you neglected that someone.”

  “Yeah, I neglected Gram all those years after I left. It’s as though I turned into my mother, not wanting any part of the woman who raised me. It’s a wonder I even considered coming back to my hometown at all. The thing is nothing could’ve been farther from how I really felt. I missed Gram on so many levels. I missed Coyote Wells. I just didn’t have the courage to take that step before she died. It took her death to bring me back here. And I’m never leaving. Not ever. They’ll have to kill me first.”

  Leia slung an arm over Gemma’s shoulder. “If you think Lando’s gonna let anything like that happen to you, you don’t know my brother.”

  “I’m in love with your brother. I always have been.”

  That brought a smile to Leia’s lips. “Tell me something I don’t already know. Could I make a suggestion? Why don’t we get everyone together, maybe have a cookout tomorrow or Sunday? Right here. Lianne gets back in town from Portland late tonight. I bet she could use some cheering up. What do you say? Forget about funerals, death, forget someone tried to kill you, forget about murder for one day and just chill.”

  Gemma’s eyes filled with tears. She leaned her head on Leia’s. “That sounds wonderful. Thanks for dropping what you were doing to be here. You didn’t have to try so hard to distract me. I know what you’ve been doing since you got here and I appreciate it.”

  “What am I doing?”


  “You’re being here is keeping me from having a meltdown. Thank you.”

  “No problem. That’s what friends do.”

  “We were like sisters once. We could be again. You and Lydia, we promised we’d make it happen.”

  Leia looked into Gemma’s eyes and saw genuine affection. “But do you really think we could go back and recapture that time in our lives when we were so close?”

  “I do. Now, sis, tell me the truth about that truffle. Is it really as good as I think it is?”

  “Oh yeah. You’re definitely getting the hang of it.”

  Gemma’s eyes sparkled and she pumped a fist in the air, did a little happy dance. “Yessss! That’s what I hoped you’d say. I’m finally hitting my stride.”

  For their quiet evening at home, Lando picked up Chinese take-out from the Happy Wok, a small, quaint eatery near the wharf, owned by two sisters, Lotus and Lucy Kong.

  “Hope I remember everything you liked,” Lando said as he set the over-large sack down on the kitchen table.

  Gemma drew in the aroma and dug into the bag. “Looks like you ordered one of everything on the menu. I smell moo shu pork and pancakes. I’ve missed these. No one makes them quite like Lotus and Lucy.”

  He unstrapped his holster, placing his service weapon on the counter. “I ordered shrimp fried rice, steak stir-fry, and dumplings. Lucy threw in moo goo gai pan just in case. I don’t think we’ll starve before morning.”

  “What’s left over we’ll eat for breakfast. Remember when we used to do that, spend Friday nights in bed and then feast on whatever was left for breakfast?”

  This was familiar territory, thought Lando as he grabbed her around the waist, bringing her closer. “I remember every one of those nights right after we got married. They were always over too soon to suit me.”

  Gemma captured Lando’s hand, shoving him up against the counter, running eager fingers up his chest. “Tonight doesn’t have to be over quick. Shall we take this in the bedroom then and enjoy it picnic-style on top of the covers?”

  Lando nipped her mouth, gently at first before taking the kiss deeper. When he came up for air, he whispered, “If you think I’m turning down that kind of invitation, you’re nuts. You grab the food. I’ll put on some music.”