by M K Scott
“You know you saved my life last night.”
“That’s what I heard. I thought we were getting kinda good working together and I didn’t want to go to the trouble of breaking in a new partner.” He grinned and winked at Daniel, which made her wonder if he were joking.
“Go ahead and joke.” She leaned over and kissed his unshaven cheek. “You’re still my hero.”
“Aww.” He reddened under her praise.
Daniel slipped up beside the hospital bed. “I need to thank you too. I’m very grateful for you saving my sister.”
“No problem, just part of my job. I’m glad the culprit is behind bars. Can you tell me anything else?”
“I figured you’d know more than I do.”
He shook his head. “Tried. Called before the operation. Wouldn’t tell me anything. Maybe I can get some info now.”
A cough sounded, causing them to turn in the direction of the door where the officer, who escorted her to Daniel’s, stood. “I came by to see how you’re doing and find you talking shop.”
Taber smiled and motioned him in. “The man I wanted to see. Tell us about the case.”
“Hmmm.” The man pulled up a chair. “I think I need to sit for this.”
Taber rubbed his hand over his face. “That bad.”
“Bad. Weird. Unexpected. We brought in Bambi Dillow. She was kicking and screaming, complaining about how hard you were to kill.” He nodded in Donna’s direction.
“I heard that part before she left. How did she get in and out of the inn?” It would be good to know how to protect herself.
“A while back her mother was the cleaning lady and had keys to the place. Felonious tendencies show up early. Little Bobby decided to copy all the keys to let himself in and out of the houses his mother cleaned.”
Daniel’s brows lowered. “Bobby? I think I missed something.”
Taber shook his head. “Fooled you, did she? I didn’t have much contact with her, but I still thought her walk looked too practiced.”
Donna didn’t care about her walk, natural or not. “What was her excuse for depositing a dead man in my place?
“The vic was her cohort in crime. They’d conducted several robberies together, usually in affluent neighborhoods. When things got hot, they both decided on plastic surgery. Our friend in jail thought it would be cool to be female. Not sure if that was something he-she always wanted or what, but for enough money you can find someone do the surgery. Especially proud of the results, Bambi picked up work at The Lion’s Den where she met the doctor.”
“So why turn on the dead guy?”
“The best we can figure out is the marriage between the doc and her was the real thing. Love, the whole bit. Apparently Russ, the dead guy, had gone through his money and thought Bambi’s change in the address was an attempt to work a new scam in a different neighborhood. According to her, he was trying to blackmail her into ripping off her new neighbors. Somehow, she made it sound like offing her former partner was a community service.”
“I don’t understand the doctor. Couldn’t he tell that she’d had a lot of surgeries?”
The captain shrugged his shoulders, “Could know, but didn’t care. Gotta go.” He waved as he turned to go.
Daniel looked at his watch. “I’m going to have to get on the site to make sure the guys keep working. You want me to swing by the inn later?”
“Of course, I should have Jasper by then.”
“Are you going ahead with the inn?” Mark asked.
“I have to. The property value was low before, but murder tends to drop property values even more. Gotta fix it up. Once it is open, you get one free weekend. Figure it’s the least I can do.”
“Sounds great to me, but try to not stumble over any dead bodies in the future.”
Donna winked, before adding, “Herman Fremont thinks there’s something hidden in the house that may have resulted in a couple cold case murders. It might bear looking into. If nothing else, it would give The Painted Lady panache.
She pivoted, putting her back to the injured man before she smiled, knowing the effect her words would have.
A slight edge could be heard in Mark’s voice. “Wait, don’t do anything until I can help.”
Ah, she loved a mystery, especially when assisted by a particularly heroic detective.
The End
Donna’s Secret Weapon
Macadamia Coconut Chocolate Chip Cookies
Gather these ingredients first.
2 cups of butter-flavored shortening (do not substitute butter)
1 ½ cups of packed brown sugar
1 ½ cups of granulated white sugar
4 medium eggs
4 tsp vanilla extract
4 ½ cups of all-purpose flour (sifted)
2 tsp baking soda
1 tsp salt
2 cups of semisweet chocolate chips (Splurge on this ingredient because cheap chocolate doesn’t cut it.)
1 cup flaked coconut
1 cup chopped macadamia nuts or macadamia nut pieces
Directions
1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degrees C).
2. In a large bowl, cream together the butter flavored shortening, brown sugar and white sugar until smooth. Beat in the eggs, one at a time, then stir in the vanilla. Sift flour adding in baking soda and salt. Then stir flour mixture into creamed mixture one cup at a time until well mixed. Fold in the chocolate chips, coconut and macadamia nuts. Roll dough into 1-inch balls and place them 2 inches apart onto ungreased cookie sheets. (It is better to use parchment paper if possible.)
3. Bake for 8 to 10 minutes in the preheated oven. Allow cookies to cool on baking sheet for 5 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely. Leaving them out will make them crunchier as opposed to immediately wrapping them up for storage
Drop Dead Handsome
Two months ago, Daniel’s idea of a reunion special sounded like a good idea. The local winery put reunion stickers on their bottles of table red after she provided the stickers and bought three cases. Each room got a gift basket of wine, chocolate, bath salts and a candle for a romantic getaway. The baskets rested on a foyer table. Originally, she thought leaving them in the room would work, but she wanted to make sure the guests each received their baskets personally.
The guests started arriving at three, sometimes in groups, or even singles. Even though some of the names sounded vaguely familiar, no one recognized Donna or at least acted as if they did. Her sister-in-law, Maria, had taken the brunt of the reservations since people tended to reserve online and she served as the webmaster.
Only two rooms left, she checked to see the guest names. One was a single rented to Terri Gentry. No, it couldn’t be her high school nemesis. An urge to scream landed on her as fast as a dropping spider the same time the front door opened. Her mouth rounded in disbelief. Fate had a wicked streak a foot wide. The sunlight spotlighted the man as if he were a singer ready to solo. The broad shoulders, height and cocky saunter told her who it was. His face remained in shadow as he walked into the foyer.
Wyn Lansing, the same male she spent her junior year making a fool out of herself for. Her father joked that Wyn must have made up his name to sound successful. At the time, she thought her father cruel, but now she wondered if it could be true. The popular senior even took pity on her while she stood on the sidelines and asked her to dance at the winter formal. For a brief interval, she considered herself Cinderella. Instead of the clock striking midnight, his date returned from the bathroom. Not much happened after that, besides a handful of greetings at school followed by a threat from his girlfriend, Terri, to disembowel her. If that wasn’t bad enough, the twit started a rumor she had an STD.
If Donna had bothered to check the guest list before now, she would have sent Terri and Wyn an apology note claiming to have accidentally overbooked. No real worries since no one had actually realized she’d been in their graduating class. As a service person, she must be invisible until they
needed something. Even then, no one remembered her name, calling her everything from miss to inn keep.
“Donna Tollhouse, as I live and breathe, it is you.” Wyn walked forward with his arms held wide as if expecting to sweep her up like fast moving combine cutting through a cornfield.
The one person she didn’t want to remember her. Her traitorous lips tilted up as the handsome man came closer. His wavy chestnut hair hadn’t changed much, probably dyed it. The crinkles around his eyes possibly made him even better looking. It gave him character. She and her girlfriends had blessed him with the nickname Drop Dead Handsome. They were certain that his classic profile and charm would be enough to cause a woman to drop in a dead faint. Of course, she didn’t know anybody that had, but he certainly set feminine hearts aflutter.
When he was almost upon her, a woman with a sullen expression and struggling with a suitcase entered after him. “Wyn, you left me to carry the luggage.”
Donna took a slight step to the right, avoiding the over friendly greeting. Did the appearance of who was obviously his wife cause her sudden action? Of course not. Fact was she was never that good of a friend with Wyn, despite her fantasies.
“Welcome.” She smiled at the two of them. “So glad to have you here.”
Wyn grinned back at her and held out a hand, which she shook, glad the moment of awkwardness passed.
“Couldn’t believe it when I saw a note that you were running The Painted Lady Inn. I knew right then we had to stay here.”
Her smile felt tight and plastic as she held it under the baleful woman’s gaze, “Ah, yes, so glad you did.” She reached for the reunion basket and swung it so forcefully that the bath salts flew out hitting the nearby wall, bursting the bag and scattering across her refinished floors.
Great. Carefully, she placed the shaken basket on the floor and reached for the next one. Terri wouldn’t get bath salts. No great loss there. “Here, let me try it again,” she joked as she tucked the room key in the basket and handed it over.
Wyn took the basket from her making sure his hand brushed hers and gave her a broad wink. Oh, no, this she didn’t need. Right in front of his wife too.
“Breakfast is served between nine and ten.” With any luck, her face didn’t show any of her emotional turmoil. There had been rumors about Wyn running through women the way most people did tissues. Apparently, it was true, which explained his wife’s attitude.
“Why couldn’t we have stayed at a hotel?” The wife’s shrill voice carried as Donna went to retrieve a broom and dustpan. Too bad they hadn’t.
His low-voiced response thankfully didn’t carry. At least, the man could use discretion sometimes. Donna knew for a fact how loud a voice could penetrate. Daniel and Maria had carried on a practice conversation in the open areas as Donna moved from bedroom to bedroom checking the acoustics. It wasn’t soundproof, but she was betting on the guests sleeping as opposed to having footraces in the hall.
By the time she had the salts swept up and the broom stowed, Terri had arrived. The woman swept in with the same arrogance that Cleopatra must have shown entering Rome. A disdainful head tilt announced she’d been in grander accommodations. No mistaking the woman, she looked the same, only tighter as if her skin had shrunk making her face all angles without any soft curves.
“Hello, Gentry, Terri, I have a reservation.”
An urge to remark the fact she was in the inn made a reservation self-evident. She repressed the comment. “Yes, you do. Welcome to The Painted Lady Inn. Here’s your gift basket.” She pushed the remaining basket in Terri’s direction.
The woman pawed through the contents as her lips pulled down in a frown. “The bath salts that were mentioned in the special are missing.”
Before Donna could answer, Terri continued.
“No way, I can carry my luggage and the basket upstairs. I guess it is too much to expect a backwater establishment like this would have an elevator?” Her sneer announced she already knew the answer.
“Here at The Painted Lady Inn, we strive for authenticity.” It seemed a better answer than No, we don’t have an elevator.
Terri raised both eyebrows as she stared down at Donna, who had picked up both the woman’s suitcase and basket. Normally, the woman wouldn’t have anything on her height wise, but with her hunched over like Quasimodo, the hunchback of Notre Dame, she was at a disadvantage.
What did she have in the suitcase? Bricks? She stood, straightening her back and retaining as much dignity as possible. “You’re in 2B.”
“Hmm. Should I assume there’s no running water?”
Count to ten. She inhaled deeply. While she didn’t think it was possible, the woman grew even more malicious with age. “Excuse me?” Maybe she hadn’t heard right.
“If you’re trying to return to Victorian times, then they wouldn’t have running water.”
Ah-ha, she had her there. Terri had never been a stellar student. Her graduation depended more on her father being on the school board than actually doing work. The woman needed assurance that the owner of a stately Victorian home such as the inn would have had indoor plumbing, but she needed the woman’s six hundred dollars more. Technically, she’d already spent the money on linens. “We do have running water. Cold and hot.”
Perhaps Terri didn’t hear the sarcasm in her voice. Donna only heard it because she knew it was there.
“Has Wyn Lansing arrived yet? He’s the one who told me about the inn.” She inhaled deeply as if she were readying herself for some deep, dark confession. “I’m only staying here because of Wyn.”
Ick. Didn’t need to know that. Sure, the wife wouldn’t be big on her husband playing musical bedrooms. “Just arrived about ten minutes ago.”
“Perfect!” The woman clapped her wine tipped talons together. “I can’t wait to talk about old times.”
Talking must be code for something else. The wife looked like she could knock Femme Fatale off her skyscraper heels. She didn’t have to be a mind reader to know what the next question would be. “He’s in 3G.”
The woman minced up the stairs humming a dated song under her breath. Yeah, easy to mince when you weren’t carrying anything. Two more steps, she could do it. “Here we are,” she pushed out the words trying not to sound winded even if she was.
Donna pulled the key out of her pocket and opened the door. “Here’s your sitting room with daybed, table, chair and television.”
“Television. How authentic.” Terri tittered as if she just made the greatest joke ever.
Too bad the room wasn’t on the third floor where she could point out where she found the dead man who haunts the inn. Although, he didn’t really haunt the place. Since she had found his killer, he should be good for at least one haunting. She knew exactly whom she’d choose to haunt, too.
Donna moved down the slender hall and gestured to the bathroom. “Your bathroom comes equipped with a claw foot tub.” The slipper tub had taken three men to wrestle it upstairs.
“Quaint.”
The woman managed to degrade an expensive tub with one word. She’d love to toss her out of the inn, but she was well aware the woman would go online and write a scathing review. Worse yet, she’d be the type to file some civil suit for emotional abuse. It was past time she returned to the foyer. She gestured to brass bed piled high with pillows. “Your bedroom.”
“Oh good, a four poster!” Terri grasped one brass finial and shook it, rattling the bed.
Don’t say anything. Don’t say anything. She kept up her mental chant as she exited the room and made her way down the stairs. This weekend might end up with another murder in her house. Unfortunately, she’d know the killer personally.
By the time she’d reached the bottom floor, Maria stepped through the kitchen door. “Sorry I’m late. I stopped by the store to pick up extra snack items since you have a full inn.”
Not trusting herself to speak, she pointed to the kitchen where they both headed. Inside the bright room, Donna pointed upsta
irs and pantomimed choking someone.
“That bad, huh?” Maria unpacked individual bags of pretzels, chips, crackers and trail mix.
The sight of the packets reminded her of her original vow to only served homemade goodies. There would be a plate of individually wrapped brownies and cookies at each snack station. Her image of carefully arranged goodies on a china plate died a swift death when one guest took the plate of cookies meant for the entire floor. She found the evidence when she cleaned the room. Painstakingly wrapping the treats made it clear that they were not for one room only.
“Yes.” Donna shook her head as she helped, sorting out the nibbles for the three different snack stations. “Fate must hate me. To allow the two people I probably least wanted to see from my graduating class to show up here.”
“Sorry.” Maria finished one basket and pushed it to the side. “You could have given me a list if you wanted to avoid murder and mayhem.”
Her eyes rolled upward on her own. “Nothing that melodramatic. I’m afraid there might be some bedroom hijinks. The fact I gave up my room to accommodate more guests means I won’t be here to put a stop to it.”
Her sister-in-law snorted and then rolled her eyes as she finished a second snack basket.
“I could do something about it!” She hadn’t a clue what, but the last things she wanted was The Painted Lady to gain a reputation as a place to hook up.
“Mmm,” Maria threw her a sideways glance as her lips tilted up slightly, almost a smile, but not quite, more of a smirk. “Maybe you could call up that handsome detective you’ve been seeing.”
“We’re friends, that’s all. Maybe I could,” she hesitated trying to think of a reason to get Detective Mark Taber to her inn in the middle of the night without an actual crime.
“Seriously, Donna, I was joking. The last thing you need is another murder at the inn.”
Author Notes