The Valentine's Day Mini-Mystery Compendium

by T B Audrey

  He took a deep breath and looked over at me. “About that,” he said.

  I looked over at him expectantly. “About what?”

  “Remember the phone call that kept me from going riding with you that first time?”

  I nodded.

  “I quit.”

  I studied his profile. No clenched jaw. No angry line around his eyes. “You quit?”

  He looked over at me. “Look, I’m sorry. It was Roberts again. He was yelling and telling me to get back to the office because there was some sort of huge meltdown going on as usual. He demanded I return immediately, or he said he would fire me. I lost my temper. I’ll find something else-"

  I held up my hand to stop him. “Thank God.”

  “You’re glad?” he said with surprise.

  “I told you not to stay there if it was making you unhappy, and it obviously made you extremely unhappy.”

  He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. “Thank you. Many wives wouldn’t be so understanding.”

  I smiled at him, but it quickly turned to a frown as I peered out the window. The sleet was coming down hard and it was sticking to the road. We had quite a drive ahead of us.

  I glanced at Dave. “Looks like things might get rough ahead,” I said.

  He put a hand on my leg. “We’ll get through it.”

  AUTHOR’S PAGE

  K. B. Clyde grew up in a small town in Tennessee and began writing at an early age. She enjoys reading and writing all forms of fiction, but especially enjoys mystery and suspense. Samson’s Corner is her first published fiction. She can be contacted at kb.clyde@yahoo.com

  THE RUBY NECKLACE

  By Price McNaughton

  Flashes and sparkles of light radiated from the clear stones as they fell in a smooth stream into the large glass trough. Cara surveyed the room with a critical eye as she smoothed the rocks level. Red flowers covered every available surface. The more expensive roses were at the forefront as if leading the other flowers into battle. The dark wood of the cabin contrasted sharply with the twinkling lights in the chandelier overhead. Dim lighting gave the room a romantic air.

  The stone fireplace near the middle of the room against the long wall already held a large fire, its shadow writhing and twisting on the ground. Everything, from the tall thin glasses to the fake jewels scattered on the tables, seemed to glow. “I hope we don’t end up needing that fire,” said the voice at her elbow.

  “What?” Cara jumped. She had been totally focused on the long list of things that needed to be done to get ready for the party.

  “Have you noticed how bad it’s getting out there?” Rick said, pointing towards one of the long banks of windows opposite the fireplace. By the failing light outside, Cara could just see the large flakes of snow falling in the trees. The snow was accumulating quickly. Cara was surprised to see that it already covered the narrow walkway that led from the road to the lodge. “And it’s just supposed to get worse,” Rick added.

  Cara finished spreading the stones in the large trough and, turning back to Rick, she stripped the plastic gloves from her hands. “I hope everyone can make it back to their cabins after the party.”

  Rick’s dark green eyes seemed to smile at her. “I saw them salting the roads earlier.” He didn’t appear to have a worry in the world as he leaned against the table. His long sleeved white button down was rolled up at the cuffs and the top buttons on his shirt were undone. His tie, while still around his neck, was loosened and thrown over his shoulder, out of the way. His slightly large nose and messy hair made him look much younger than his twenty-six years. He drug his hand through his dark hair again, messing it up further. He had been on top of the world since he was promoted to a supervisor position a couple of weeks before. “I think we’ll be fine.”

  “Ah, the joys of catering.” Cara smiled back at him, dusting her hands off. Her own dark hair was in a messy bun on top of her head. Several haphazard bobby pins were tucked in here and there to keep it in place through the long day of setup. But now, her to-do list was narrowing quickly. “What do you think?” She checked the clock on the wall. “Time to get changed? We’ve still got over an hour till the main event, but the cocktail hour for the contestants is about to begin.”

  “I’m ready, so you go ahead and get changed. I’ll finish setting out the desserts and fill the punch trough for the ones that are supposed to be early.”

  Cara giggled as she removed her icing streaked apron and handed it to Rick. “Here, you don’t want to get anything on your uniform. Not again.” Rick winced at the reminder.

  “I told you, that wasn’t my fault! That lady ran into me and smashed that pie into my chest.”

  “Really? I heard that there was some sort of a race…” Cara let her voice trail off. Rick’s guilty grin gave him away.

  She waved at her manager, Nathan, as he finished up the last of the table settings. Though it was not a formal dinner, the tables had been set with glasses and silverware. Rose petals covered every other inch of available surface. Nathan glanced up at her from where he knelt over a tablecloth and smiled. The party was small and was only desserts and drinks, so he hadn’t needed a large staff. After setup, he was leaving and it would just be Rick and Cara.

  Most events were long and a lot of work. Tonight we’re getting off easy, Cara thought. The glasses and dessert plates could be gathered quickly and run through the dishwasher. They could be put away tomorrow along with the decorations. Usually, Nathan kept people at work till everything was cleared and done, but tonight, with impending bad weather and a huge amount of overtime already clocked for the week, he had decided to make an exception.

  As soon as she stepped through the swinging door in the kitchen, the pandemonium hit her. Tina was desperately trying to finish slicing the cakes and plating them while Megan finished mixing the punch. The sweet red punch would be in the center in the large trough along with a couple of other mixed drinks in smaller tureens at the bar. Champagne and wine would also be available. Cara smiled encouragingly at the others as she walked past them to the small bathroom. “Almost over!” she lied and they laughed.

  “For us, it is!” Megan said.

  Every night in catering was a game of hurry up and wait. Hurry and feed them, then wait while they had their meetings. Cara didn’t expect tonight to be any different.

  Cara smoothed her hair down quickly, reaching into her pocket for a few extra hairpins. The white button-up shirt was too big on her thin frame, and her necktie hung loosely around her neck. The long black apron reached to just above her knees. She tucked her last few bobby pins in the large right pocket, then surveyed herself in the mirror critically.

  It revealed a very tired individual. She rubbed off the smudges where her eye makeup had started to run and sucked her in cheeks. It was a habit of hers formed from the long held belief that her face was too round. Though many of her friends had laughed at her, she still couldn’t help but check to see if her face was any thinner. Nope, not yet, she thought before taking a deep breath and heading back through the kitchen.

  Everyone was gathered in the kitchen while Nathan went over everything with Rick. She just caught the tail end.

  “The extra punch is in the fridge and you should have plenty of desserts.” Nathan crossed his arms, a stern expression on his face. “This is an important client, Rick. I’m trusting you. Maybe I should stay and do the event….” His expression was torn.

  “Everything will be fine, Nathan,” Rick said. He checked his watch. “But you should probably go if you’re going to make the reception. You’ve probably already missed your sister’s wedding.”

  Nathan grinned and shrugged. “I’ll live.”

  He patted Rick on the back as he walked out. Megan and Tina followed him. He paused on the snowy sidewalk that led to the employee parking lot behind the lodge. After they passed and went to their cars, Nathan turned back to Rick and Cara. “You’re my best employees. Don’t mess this up!”

  Rick l
aughed and shut the door. Cara took a deep breath. It’s just going to be me and Rick for the rest of the night. Please, please let everything go right.

  Cara walked through the kitchen and back into the lodge. As soon as the heavy wooden door swung shut behind her, a small woman popped up beside Cara. She was tiny, with carefully groomed white hair and immaculately applied makeup. Her red suit was the perfect mix of formal and informal. She laid one carefully manicured hand on Cara’s arm. Her nails shone blood red.

  “Hello, dear. Can you help me?”

  “What do you need?” Cara asked. The small woman grinned up at her elfishly. Her eyes were round above sharp cheekbones.

  “I need to display the jewelry for tonight’s contestants and I’m not sure where to set up.” She glanced around the room.

  “That’s the table over there.” Cara was short, but she felt like she almost needed to lean down to point out the white-draped table near the bar by the far wall. The fire in the fireplace opposite it snapped and popped merrily.

  “Oh no, dear, that won’t do at all!” The older lady exclaimed.

  “I’m sorry… I can get my supervisor if you….”

  “No, you can just help me,” it was said decisively and Cara knew there would be no arguing with her. “I brought some extra decorations. They’re in my car. Come along.” The lady led the way without waiting for a reply.

  As they exited the lodge, the cold air went right through Cara’s thin white dress shirt as the driving snow stung her face. She crossed her arms for warmth and debated turning around and going straight back inside. But the older lady was already halfway down the walk. The black windows of the ballroom seemed to stare at Cara as she hurried to catch up.

  The party was too small to warrant opening the large ballroom. Instead, one of the smaller rooms, The Ridge, had been used. It was the best one for a gathering of this size due to its proximity to the kitchen. The lodge was shaped like a T with the main ballroom making up the long end and the kitchen at the center. The right side of the T was The Ridge and the left side was a series of small meeting rooms. The wall between The Ridge and the ballroom had been knocked out years ago and a long bar was now in its place. It could serve both rooms at once or each individually. Right now, the sliding doors to the ballroom were closed, making it appear to be a full bar built into the wall from The Ridge’s point of view.

  “Hurry up!” the older lady called. “It’s cold out here.” She was waiting by her car, door open. Inside, two boxes and a series of bags filled the back seat.

  “Hold out your arms,” she instructed Cara. She seemed irritated.

  “I’m sorry… I was hurrying Miss….”

  “Mrs. Reynolds.” She lifted one of Cara’s arms and slid three bags onto it. Luckily, most were lightweight, filled only with paper decorations. She quickly slid several bags onto her other arm. Mrs. Reynolds groaned slightly as she lifted the two boxes from the depths. “Take these.”

  She shoved the heavy boxes into Cara’s arms and grabbed the last two bags. Slamming the car door, she hurried away. Cara could barely see over the top box. She teetered dangerously down the slick sidewalk, stopping to feel with the toes of her shoes before stepping forward. Finally, she made it up the stairs and stood glaring angrily at the closed door. Her arm muscles were giving out from the weight of the boxes, and worse, a couple of the plastic bags hanging from her arms had twisted as she walked and were now cutting off the blood supply. She tried kicking the solid door, hoping that Rick or Mrs. Reynolds would hear and come to investigate, and silently cursed Mrs. Reynolds for not waiting on her.

  Her foot was poised in midair for a last vicious kick when it swung open suddenly. She fell forward, not expecting it, and straight into Rick’s arms. “Whoa!” He laughed as she slammed into his chest. The top box hit him in the face, leaving a scrape that stretched from the corner of his eye up his temple.

  Cara’s face blushed bright red. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to do that. I’m such a klutz.”

  “It’s ok.” He rubbed the side of his head before taking the boxes. She untwisted the bags and let them slide down her arms in relief.

  “I was about to kick again.”

  “Kick what?”

  “The door.” She spied Mrs. Reynolds by the table. She had already made quite a difference with the lace she was pulling from her bag. It shone white on top of a four-inch piece of blood red fabric she had hung around the edges of the table.

  “Why were you kicking the door?”

  “So someone would let me in.” Darn it, another piece of loose hair had escaped her bun and was trailing in her face. She tried to blow it to the side in vain. “Isn’t that why you came?”

  “No, I saw you leave with her and then I noticed you had been gone a while. I was going to see if you needed any help.”

  “Oh. Well, thank you.” He reached the table first. After setting the boxes on the floor with a bang, which brought a scowl from Mrs. Robinson, he turned back to Cara.

  “Here, let me help.” She tried offering the bags to him, but he reached for the long strand of loose hair, smoothing it behind her ear. “Better?” he asked.

  Cara felt another blush creeping up her face. She wondered if he noticed. By the smile on his face, she suspected that he did. “Much.” He grabbed the bags from her hands and tossed them towards the boxes.

  Mrs. Reynolds gestured impatiently for Cara to approach. “Is there something I can help you with?” Cara asked, one eyebrow raised. She did not appreciate being treated like a non-person.

  “Yes, unpack those bags and hand me what I need.”

  Cara spent the next fifteen minutes at Mrs. Reynolds beck and call. She fetched several pitchers of water to fill vases that had been packed in one of the boxes. She scattered rose petals around the table from one of the bags and placed long-stemmed roses in vases and in the spots Mrs. Reynolds picked out. Clear stones, much like the ones the caterers used, were interspersed with ruby ones and filled small ceramic dishes. The soft spotlighting overhead lit up the table magnificently.

  Finally, Mrs. Reynolds stood back and surveyed her work. “Very nice.”

  Cara had to admit it was lovely. Mrs. Reynold’s had used different shaped boxes purloined from the kitchen and then covered with fabric in a deep crimson red to create height. The flowers smelled heavenly and Cara took a deep breath. “Mrs. Reynolds?”

  “Yes?” The older lady surveyed her over the glasses she had just perched at the end of her nose.

  “We did forget one box.” She pointed to the largest box.

  “Oh, no dear. We didn’t forget that one. It holds the most important decorations of all. You can hand them to me.” Mrs. Reynolds stood poised near the table, hands ready.

  Cara gasped when she unfolded the lid of the box. Jewels shone out at her. Necklaces, earrings, and a bracelet were packed in clear jewelry cases. She lifted one carefully.

  “What are these?”

  “They are prototypes of the jewels we will be offering next Valentine’s Day. It’s a contest that I thought up.” She took the box containing the necklace from Cara and opened it swiftly. The clear stones on top of one of the fabric-covered boxes made a radiant nest for the glimmering necklace. “It’s still in the planning stages. We’ll see how it goes, but we received some fabulous entries. It may become a yearly contest. After all, my boss has a chain of stores all over the state. He can afford it and he needs the publicity. These pieces of jewelry will be offered as limited edition pieces.”

  Cara handed her a pair of earrings. They appeared to be several strands of silver with a diamond on the end, but when Cara looked closely she saw that they were long stemmed roses. Tiny etches of detail completed the intricate design. A matching toe ring completed the set. She sighed enviously.

  “They are beautiful.”

  “Yes, I am quite proud of my idea. I thought it would be nice, since we are a local business of sorts, to offer a chance for artisans to display their wares. The
first stage of the entry was submission for judging of their previous work as well as their sketch ideas for their entry. After that, we narrowed the field down by having them design a costume jewelry piece for us. Anyone who made it past that stage, and was selected, was given a bonus with which to build the final piece from the materials needed. Tonight we will be selecting one,” she said as she held up her pointer finger after placing what appeared to be a diamond bracelet in a ceramic dish of ruby stones, “to offer a contract to and to be our feature piece.”

  “What happens to the ones who don’t win?”

  “The losers? The pieces from tonight, the ones made with expensive materials, will be offered for sale in the store as one of a kind. We’ll offer costume jewelry copies of them as well.”

  “So it doesn’t really matter if they win a contract?”

  “Oh, yes, it does. The contract winner will make their own original pieces and we will sell them in stores. In the end, the losers will only get a small payment for design. We’ll handle the making of the costume jewelry. None of them make money off the original pieces. They’ll be sold to pay back the grants we gave them upfront.”

  “That must be expensive.”

  “Oh, it is. Quite expensive. We are actually requesting that most of the staff stay away from this table if possible. Besides you servers, we only have the contestants and the invited employees and managers from each of our locations here later, after the cocktail hour for the contestants.”

  “It will only be myself and Rick tonight so that shouldn’t be a problem.” Cara pursed her lips angrily at the slight towards her coworkers and herself as she handed the last piece of jewelry to Mrs. Reynolds and then tucked the empty boxes under the table.

  Cara and Rick watched from behind the bar as the last of the five contestants lined up in front of Mrs. Reynolds. Her voice was strong and steady as she addressed them.

  “We have a bit of a surprise for you. Due to the fact that one of the judges will have to leave early tomorrow morning, we will be judging your pieces later on this evening.” She clapped her hands together. “But, happily, the announcement of the winner will be made tonight instead of tomorrow.” Cara tuned her out as Mrs. Reynolds droned on and on, going over the rules of the competition and reminding the contestants of their duties.