Organized for S'more Death

by Ritter Ames

  “Gil will get him sorted out, don’t worry.” Kate let go as Meg pulled away to wipe her eyes.

  “I know he will. Once he figured out what I was yelling about, he took charge and told Paul to hang up. That’s when the idiot finally cut the connection. But now our house is known to someone in the mob. Our house, Kate! All because Paul Gaines is a narcissistic idiot who wants to be a big wheel author.”

  Kate chewed her lower lip. “You don’t think he did anything like that when he was at the cabin? So they know the location there, too?”

  “I already asked that. Shook up my husband good when I did, I have to tell you.”

  “What did Paul say?”

  “He said he hadn’t. There’s lousy cell service there, and he had to always get away from the cabin to get a connection. He swore we’re all safe.” Meg made a hrmph sound, then added. “I would have preferred they knew the cabin’s location instead of my home. How can anyone who’s supposed to be so smart do anything so stupid?”

  Keith walked up then. Sam was back in the game. “Who’s stupid?” he asked.

  Before Kate could clue him into the latest developments, however, they heard the kids shout and looked to see Gil jogging up to the driveway. He slowed as he entered the garage, and spoke to his wife, “The guy was bluffing on the phone. Paul has some type of electronic gizmo to make his phone ping like it’s all over the planet. No need to worry.”

  Meg’s eyes widened in disbelief. “I don’t have to worry? I walk into my house and hear that kind of conversation going on, and I don’t have to worry? You’re as clueless as he is!”

  “Shh,” Gil said. “Keep your voice down.”

  “You’re right. The kids.” Meg crossed her arms and stepped away from her husband.

  In the distance, Kate watched Paul exit the Berman’s garage and wave as he walked to his green Jaguar sitting at the curb. Gil waved back, and Keith shot the women a puzzled look, then raised his hand in an abbreviated farewell. The kids took Paul’s departure as a cue to run back into the garage, all of them talking at the same time.

  “Are we leaving now?” Mark asked.

  “I want to ride with Mommy,” Ben said.

  “Can I ride with you, Daddy?” Suze asked.

  “Remember the cookies, Mom,” Sam said.

  Kate handed Sam the cookies. “Here you go, Choco-Chunks Oatmeal Peanut Butter Cookies fresh from the freezer. You can be in charge of them. No snacking until we get there.”

  Keith held both arms high in the air. “Stop, everyone.” Once all the voices hushed, he said, “Kids, start grabbing stuff from the pile that’s left. Meg and Gil, you load up the trunk. Kate and I have a few things to grab from the house before we take off for the cabin.”

  The assembly line started with quick precision, and Keith grabbed his wife’s hand. Once they were in the kitchen, a closed door between them and the kids, he said, “Okay, now tell me what was going on out there.”

  In a few words, Kate told the story and all of Meg’s concerns. She watched as Keith’s face darkened. “All I have to say is Gil better be right and whatever doohickey he was talking about had better work, or Paul will have a lot more to worry about than the mob. I’ll kill him, myself.”

  “Calm down.”

  “Why are you smiling?” Keith asked.

  Yes, why was she smiling? Kate could only imagine it was because her ordinarily calm husband was suddenly a bigger worrier than she was. And it felt kind of satisfying to be the calm one for once. Still, she didn’t think Keith would appreciate the humor in the situation. “I’m just glad we’re rid of him, and we can head out for our family weekend. Come on, they should have everything loaded.”

  “You’re right.” Keith grinned and pulled a couple of extra flashlights Kate kept in a drawer in the kitchen desk. “Camouflage for why we had to come in here,” he said.

  “I have a feeling Meg and Gil know exactly why we came in here.”

  Keith wrapped an arm around her. “And I have a feeling Gil and I are going to be discussing his friend this weekend. A lot.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  FROM THE FILES OF KATE McKenzie:

  If you get sick during car rides, or have a child who does, there are a couple of tips to try if you don’t want to take Dramamine, or there isn’t any available. First never let a person who gets carsick ride in the backseat, because the way cars are designed now with high front bucket seats and headrests tends to increase the possibility of carsickness due to the person’s “horizon line” moving up and down with the road. Another tip to try is to hum—anything, a sound, a song, whatever—because it’s practically impossible to lose your lunch when your humming. But if prolonged humming isn’t an option, make a tight fist with the left hand, tucking your thumb inside the fist and squeezing that thumb.

  “THE CABIN IS ABOUT 30 minutes north of here,” Meg said, as they passed the turnoff to Paper Mill Village and headed north on US-7N out of Bennington. “I prefer to take the state highway, with its added character. But it takes longer, so I didn’t bother mentioning it to Gil.” She pointed to the Jeep ahead of them. “Obviously the guys prefer this faster route. A little more miles, but faster.”

  Kate twisted to peer between the seats and saw that Ben’s head rested comfortably against the window. He’d gone silent soon after Meg hit the Hazelton city limits, and now he was sound asleep in the Camry’s backseat. All the other kids rode with Keith and Gil in the Jeep. It was nice to let someone else drive and have a nice quiet trip. Especially while she wasn’t truly sure she was happy with her van after last month’s extensive repairs.

  “Ben went out like a light,” she said. “Quiet ride.”

  “We’ve kind of trained him to do that for any trip longer than a jaunt to town,” Meg said.

  “Really?”

  Meg nodded. “He gets carsick something awful. And he hates to take Dramamine. There are other tricks to get around carsick problems, but when a kid is little, the easiest is usually to try to convince them to relax and close their eyes. And with Ben, that invariably means he’s going to soon get hypnotized by the sound and vibration of the car and go to sleep.”

  “My mother used to have that problem,” Kate said. “She would squeeze her left thumb in her fist.” Then she went silent again.

  “Speaking of quiet, you’re no Chatty Katie today either,” Meg said, interrupting her thoughts.

  “I’m thinking. That’s all,” Kate said, sighing.

  “Because you’re used to doing the driving, but I’m doing it this time?”

  “Kind of, but not exactly.”

  “So, if it’s not a control issue, could it be a related issue? Regarding your wheels, maybe?” Meg turned her head slightly and raised her eyebrow.

  Kate smiled. “I’ve been worrying about the van too much this week. Haven’t I?”

  “You’ve talked about it a few times. Why don’t you have the garage guys go over it again? See if they can tighten something,” Meg suggested.

  Kate shook her head. “The mechanics worked hard to stretch the insurance company’s payment, and they’ve done everything they can. It just doesn’t feel right, and I need to decide if I’m okay with it. But...it doesn’t feel like the vehicle I’ve always trusted. At some point, we’ll have to commit to looking for another.”

  “What did Keith say?”

  “He wants me to feel safe. It feels okay to him, but he said we’d do whatever I wanted.”

  “There you go.”

  Kate chuckled. “Though before we think about looking for a new vehicle Keith and I have to figure out how to add a new car payment to the budget.”

  “No money talk. I absolutely don’t want to think of money this weekend—or the lack thereof,” Meg said, Kate sat back and enjoyed the ride, grateful they had this chance to relax and talk about nothing in particular, after the tension of the rest of the morning.

  Sunlight played peekaboo among the thick foliage that bordered the roadway north, the proud
hemlock, sugar maple and beech trees leaves dappling the grass and asphalt with light and shadows. Dense spruce, fir and pine trees stood sentry and offered a glance back into the past of Vermont history. Meg pointed out an exceptionally fine example of white pine and said, “Isn’t it gorgeous?”

  “Absolutely,” Kate replied. “And so fitting that the white pine is on the Great Seal of Vermont.”

  “Yes.” Meg sighed. “I don’t think there’s a prettier type of tree. Did you know that before the Revolutionary War King George III declared that all white pines and other pine trees fit for being masts for the Royal Navy had to be branded with his royal mark.”

  “No, I didn’t, but I can see why.”

  Their conversation went quiet again with the peaceful drive. Talk of kids, their plans on how to pitch to an upcoming client who wanted to get her office organized, and what they might have to do this year to help in PTA. Meg turned onto the short VT-313 to jog over and join VT-7A, the state highway Meg had spoken about earlier.

  “It’s like time always starts speeding up once school starts,” Meg said. “One more reason for us to just kick back this weekend and recharge.”

  Kate agreed, then lost herself again in the scenery. She contemplated trying to get her mother-in-law to join her on a fall bus tour, to see the changing colors that would blanket the region in a month or so. Jane likely would scoff at the idea, being the practical type who had spent her whole life in the area, but Kate decided to try anyway. It would be fun for the two of them to have a day, or even an overnight, together to merely enjoy Vermont and each other’s company. She might even suggest that Meg and her mother come along too. Her reverie broke when she realized Meg was asking a question.

  “So, what do you think? Do you want to go?”

  “What?” Had she been thinking out loud?

  “To the Vermont Country Store,” Meg said and laughed. “Have you been listening to anything I’ve said?”

  Kate grinned and shook her head, pulling her mind away from the emerald, mint, and lime greens of the different trees. “Sorry, I was lost in the lovely surroundings.”

  “It is a pretty drive, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it is.” In an instant, she realized what Meg’s first question was about. “You mean the store in Weston? Sure, I’d love to go in there sometime this weekend. I’ve bought from their catalog for years.”

  “It’s one of only two locations,” Meg said. “Really takes you back to an earlier time.”

  Something else to look forward to this weekend, a possible shopping trip to a mecca they didn’t necessarily need, but one which fitted ideally into their plans and the locale.

  Meg threw on the blinker as they saw Keith’s Jeep Cherokee turn into a small parking lot. “Oh, good. Here’s the little store where we can get milk and eggs and perishable stuff for this weekend. Ben, wake up, honey.”

  “Huh?” the boy roused groggily in the backseat. “Are we there?”

  “Almost. Come go in the store with us.”

  A spot on the gravel parking lot was available near the Jeep, and Meg tucked the Camry into the empty parking space. Seatbelts unclicked throughout the car, and Meg opened the back door for Ben. Kate watched her two girls race ahead with Mark. Gil twisted to stretch the kinks from his back. Keith grinned at her and she knew any animosity was settled between the guys. She marveled again at the way men handled things like that. He walked her way, his stout hiking boots crunching down heavily on the gravel with each step. She split the distance with him, and they held hands as they walked into the store.

  Ben barreled off across the gravel, his mom just missing his hand, “Slow down there, speedy,” Meg called. He didn’t turn or slow down, but his small right hand gave a backhand wave as he hurried to catch up with the rest of the kids.

  A familiar dark green Jaguar flew into the drive, churning gravel as the driver blew the horn and hit the brakes to try to avoid a red compact car pulling out of a side parking spot. Too close, the gravel didn’t allow the braking power the Jag needed, and they all heard the ominous crunch.

  Paul leaped from the driver’s side, leaving the heavy door wide as he raced to the front of his sports car, yelling colorful epithets at the middle-aged couple inside the smaller vehicle. The kids froze on the stoop outside the store. Keith took off at a run and Kate followed, hurrying to get the children inside. A stormy faced Meg strode decisively toward the altercation, Gil reaching to clasp her elbow and slow her down. The couple in the red compact stood side by side across the back of their car, almost as if in solidarity with one another, Kate thought, assuming they were husband and wife. They were taller than Paul, and probably a decade or so older. Otherwise, from the distance, they both just looked average with medium brown to graying hair and glasses. Except the woman had her arms tightly crossed, and as Paul’s language sharpened, the couple’s expressions turned wooden. Kate hoped this could all be settled peacefully, but unless Gil got Paul to shut up the prospect wasn’t looking good.

  Inside, the store boasted a typical lake or park store set-up, filled with smaller versions of the things everyone needed, but at twice the price of the larger sizes sold in grocery stores. Kate steered the kids toward a large selection of jerky meats, “Here, look. Perfect food for backpacks while you’re hiking. Grab yourselves a couple of favorites.”

  Behind a long Formica counter, almost hidden by the small stands of grab-it to-go items, stood a compact guy Kate took for the proprietor. As she and Keith neared him, he stepped out from behind to get a better look at what was going on outside.

  “Bit of a fender bender,” Keith said, motioning over his shoulder with a thumb.

  “Emotions get high with those kinds of things.” The man was stocky, with broad shoulders and short legs. His beefy t-shirt and baggy shorts made Kate think of him as Mr. Squatty Body, but he held out a hand to Keith and said, “Gus Griffin.”

  “We’re the McKenzies. I’m Keith, and this is my wife, Kate.”

  “Are you visiting?” Gus asked, rubbed his hand over the top of his burr haircut. Kate thought she heard some Jersey shore in his voice.

  “Yeah, we’re staying with friends in one of the cabins,” Keith said. “We’re up from Hazelton.”

  The guy’s eyes grew wide. “Wait a minute. Keith McKenzie. You’re the evening guy at WHZE. I used to watch you play goalie. Too bad about your knee.”

  Kate smiled and turned to check on the kids. She’d heard this kind of hero worship before, and it was her cue to leave. Secretly, she was glad when her husband’s pro hockey career ended after blowing out his knee, and Keith usually was too. Their lives and their marriage had become much more stable. But when someone, like this Gus guy, got him talking about his sports victories, Kate couldn’t bear to see the wistful expressions that crossed his face as the highlights reel flashed through his memories.

  The kids were busy checking out the souvenir hats and t-shirts, laughing as each tried on one crazy labeled cap after another. With the kids and her husband occupied, Kate turned to see what was holding up the other couple and pushed open the door—in time to see a red-faced Meg move into Paul’s space, then struggle as Gil pulled her back. Kate started to step out, but Gil looked up suddenly and shook his head. She moved back to the store.

  From an inner door on the wall opposite the counter, a tiny brunette, no more than five feet tall, peered out of a front window, then called over her shoulder, “Gus, what’s going on outside.”

  “Huh?” Gus pulled himself out of the conversation with Keith and said, “Oh, a couple of cars hit. Nothing serious, Tink.”

  You don’t know Paul Gaines. But instead of saying that out loud, Kate walked closer and introduced herself to the woman, “Hi, I’m Kate McKenzie. We’re staying in a cabin around here this weekend.”

  “Nice to know you. I’m Tina, but everyone calls me Tink.” She fluttered manicured nails covered with a glittery stardust-like look, every fingernail displaying a different color. “You know, like T
inkerbell. Gus is my husband.” She crossed her arms and looked over at the kids. “Your family over there?”

  Kate nodded, picking up on Tina’s Jersey accent. “The two girls are. The boys belong to our neighbors, the Bermans. They’re out trying to help with the problem between the two cars in the parking lot.”

  At least I hope Meg isn’t making it worse, she thought.

  Right then, a police cruiser pulled into the lot, and Kate sighed in relief. A minute later, Meg stormed through the door, Gil close on her heels. She stomped over to the women, anxiety radiating off her body.

  “Everything sorted out?” Kate asked, running a hand up and down her friend’s arm to try to settle her.

  “Yeah,” Meg said, frowning as she ran her free hand along the back of her neck. “I told the couple if they need witnesses to call me. I doubt Gil would testify against Mr. Paul Gaines, journalist extraordinaire, but I will in a heartbeat. The arrogant jackass. And it was all his fault.”

  “Was the other couple from around here?” Kate asked.

  “No, they’ve rented a cabin a couple of miles away from ours. What a way to start a vacation.”

  “I’m sure the officer will take care of everything.”

  “With any luck, he’ll lock up Paul, and we can all enjoy our weekend.”

  As they watched, the officer had each of the men outside sign a form on his clipboard, then Paul whirled around and stomped toward the store. Figuring it was time to change the subject and steer a new conversation thread, Kate turned to introduce Tina and Meg but found the small brunette had disappeared. A second later Kate noticed the petite woman next to Sam and Suze, choosing hats for the twins.

  “Yes, the pink looks terrific on you,” Tina said, setting a cap decorated with rhinestones that spelled Diva more firmly on Suze’s head.

  Sam snorted. “That fits you.”

  “Just because I like things pretty—” Suze started.

  “Not again,” Sam interrupted, rolling her eyes to put punctuation to her words.

  Inwardly, Kate sighed. It was probably the thousandth time that argument had been started between her girls in the past month, but it was time to end it. “Enough. We’re on vacation.” Kate put a hand on each twin’s shoulder. “Enjoy yourself or stay away from each other, but I’m not going to listen to any arguing while we’re here.”