The Tao of the Viper: A Kate Pomeroy Mystery (The Kate Pomeroy Gothic Mystery Series Book 2)

by Linda Watkins

  “You will be,” he replied. “Now, listen, I do have work to do so I’m going to call you a water taxi. My boat’s moored here and I have traps to set and pull. I’ll probably be back later than usual, so don’t wait dinner for me. I’ll pick up something on the way home.”

  “Okay, just be careful.”

  “I will.”

  He called the taxi service and when we arrived at the wharf the boat was waiting for me. One last kiss and we parted. I watched him drive away, then let the taxi driver help me aboard.

  We motored silently back to Storm, me too lost in thought for idle conversation. I couldn’t stop staring at my hand and the ring that now joined me to the man I loved.

  My life, which had been such a mess, was now pretty darn perfect.

  5

  The Old Man

  Storm Island, Maine

  THE OLD MAN wheeled his chair to the window. The night was clear and the moon was full, its rays sparkling off the water. However, this beautiful expression of nature was not to this man’s liking and he turned away from it, wheeling himself back into the bedroom.

  He hated to admit it, but he was tired. Squabbling with his relations had put him in a foul mood and he wanted nothing more than to squash them like the bugs they were. But he couldn’t afford to lose them just yet. He needed their help to accomplish the task at hand. Oh, he admitted he’d had to promise them the moon and more, but, once this project was complete, he would renege on his promise and make them pay for their insolence.

  Smiling grimly, he wheeled himself over to the sideboard. The ancient chair squealed and groaned as he moved, but he paid it no mind. He picked up a bottle of Scotch, examined the label, then poured himself a healthy drink. Sipping, he closed his eyes. His grandson had informed him there was going to be a party in a week or so – some nonsense about a medical clinic. Normally, he would eschew such mundane entertainment, but most of the islanders would be there and it would be a good opportunity to look them over and, perhaps, find the one he was looking for.

  Yes, this party would serve his purpose and, maybe, shorten the time he’d have to spend on this damned island.

  6

  Kate

  Party Preparations

  I STARED AT my reflection in the mirror and grinned. What I was wearing was definitely NOT island style. I had on a full-length, black satin strapless gown that clung to me in what I hoped were the right places. I lifted the hem of the dress slightly to reveal the shoes I’d selected for our grand-opening party. They were red satin with ankle-straps and three-inch heels. I knew they weren’t practical, but when I’d seen them in the window of that shop on the mainland, my heart told me I had to have them. Shoes, especially high heels, had always been my weakness.

  “Honey, can you give a guy a hand?”

  I turned from the mirror to see Jeremy standing in the doorway. He also wasn’t going island style tonight. He was dressed in a tuxedo.

  “What do you need?” I asked, walking over to him.

  “The tie. I’m at a loss for this. Wish I was going as someone or something that wore jeans and a sweatshirt. Even one of the walking dead would be better than this.”

  I laughed. “No, you can’t get out of it that easily. Tonight, I’m going to be escorted by Count Dracula himself, complete with monkey suit. Now, stay still.”

  I stood in front of him and tied his bowtie. “There. Now you’re perfect.”

  “Yeah, everything but the vamp teeth. Those I’m not putting in until we’re at the party, okay?”

  “That’s fine with me.”

  It was the night before All Hallows Eve and we were having our grand-opening party at the clinic. All the islanders had been invited as well as first responders and other officials from the mainland. We were expecting a large crowd.

  I started to walk away, but Jeremy reached out and grabbed my hand. “You look beautiful tonight, Katy,” he said softly.

  I blushed. I had chosen, quite appropriately given the history of Storm Island, to go to the party as a witch. My black dress would be offset with a matching cape, a pointed hat, and, of course, a broom.

  “Thanks,” I said. “Now, I’ve got to finish my makeup. Okay?”

  Again, I tried to break away, but he held me in place. He took my left hand in his and bent down and kissed the back of it.

  “I’ll never get tired of looking at this,” he murmured as he gazed at the diamond solitaire on my finger. “Have you thought about setting a date yet?”

  I looked down at my hand, then back up at him.

  “Yeah, maybe early spring. I want a wedding at the beach.”

  Jeremy laughed. “If it’s a beach wedding you want, you’ll have to wait until June. Before that we’ll be in the midst of mud season and I don’t think you’ll want the hem of your gown soiled before you say ‘I do.’”

  “Mud season? What’s that?”

  Again, he laughed. “I keep forgetting this is your first winter here. Soon, the snow will come. Not these little flurries, but full-out snow and several feet of it. Temps will drop below zero so there’ll be no melting until spring.”

  “And the melting makes mud?”

  “You got it, sweetheart. Lots of mud.”

  “Okay,” I answered, mentally picturing myself in a white gown wading through a sea of brown goo. “How about the first week in June?”

  “Works for me. That’ll give you time to get the clinic running smoothly and it’s before the real lobster season opens. We might even find a few days for a little honeymoon.”

  “Of course, we’ll have a honeymoon,” I answered indignantly. “What’s a marriage without a honeymoon!”

  Jeremy pulled me to him and kissed me lightly on the lips. “That’s another decision you’ll have to make. Where will we go?”

  I laughed. “We’ll figure it out. Now, can I finish my makeup? We have to get going.”

  “Okay. You go on and fancy yourself up.”

  He finally let go of me and, grinning, I walked back to the vanity. As I dabbed a bit of blush on my cheeks, I felt a tear stir in my eye. I was getting married and neither my mother, who had died nineteen years earlier, nor my father, the victim of a cruel murder last summer, would be in attendance. Would they have been happy for me? I thought they would.

  Taking a deep breath, I shook off my melancholy. Tonight was a big night for me – the prelude to the opening of my clinic and I would be there with the man of my dreams by my side. This was no time for tears.

  Taking one last look and satisfied with my reflection, I donned the long, black satin cape and pointed witch hat and, grabbing my broom, joined Jeremy in the living room.

  “All set?” he asked.

  “I’m set. Let’s get going. Steve will be wondering what’s happened to us.”

  We arrived at Stormview Manor on time for a change. Steve greeted us at the door.

  “The witch of my dreams,” he said as he ushered us inside. “You look beautiful, Dr. Pomeroy.”

  I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. “And you look … normal?”

  Steve was dressed in scrubs, not unlike those he would wear every day at work.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he replied, grinning. “But I’m not a nurse tonight. Tonight, I’m a surgeon … a mad surgeon!”

  As he spoke, he pulled a dummy knife from his waistband. It glowed eerily and was coated with fake blood.

  “But how is that unique?” I asked with a grin. “Aren’t all surgeons mad?”

  Steve laughed then walked over to Jeremy, extending his hand. “Let me be the first to congratulate you,” he said. “You’re a lucky man.”

  Jeremy grinned broadly. “Don’t worry. I know how lucky I am and I thank God I found her before anyone else did.”

  All this gushing over me brought heat to my face. “Okay, okay,” I said. “That’s enough of that. I’m the lucky one.”

  Laughing, we all went inside where Nadia was standing near a table laden with hors d’oeuvres. She was
dressed as Catwoman and the costume suited her well.

  “Congratulations, Mr. Bradshaw and Dr. Pomeroy. You make a beautiful couple.”

  Again, the heat hit my cheeks and, if this kept up, I’d feared I’d soon look more like a beet than a witch.

  “Thank you, Nadia,” I said, turning to Steve.

  “Now, show me everything. We’ve got only about forty-five minutes before people start arriving.”

  “I’ll let Nadia explain the layout of the food, drinks, and music,” said Steve. “After all, she’s the one who put it all together. Then, when she’s finished, I’ll take you all on a sample of the tour I’ve planned.”

  I nodded and let Nadia take over. There were plates of appetizers, all with labels detailing the ingredients, and I noted with satisfaction that some of the dishes were vegan. We’d employed a local as a caterer and, eyeballing all the delectable food, knew we’d made a wise decision.

  Over where the bar was setup sat a huge glass bowl full of miniature candy bars. We expected that some of the islanders would bring their children and Nadia explained that this bowl was for them to “trick or treat.”

  The bar was stocked with beverages of all sorts: sodas, spring water, beer, wine, and hard liquor. Background music would be provided by a local band. They were instructed to play softly at first and later, more upbeat music suitable for dancing.

  “Everything looks terrific,” I said. “You did a great job, Nadia, and I’m grateful.”

  The young woman blushed. “Thank you, Dr. Pomeroy. Coming from you that means a lot.”

  “Nadia put in a lot of extra hours making sure everything was perfect,” said Steve. “She’s a gem and is going to make a dynamite nurses’ aide. Now, let me show you the tour of our facility that I’ve put together.”

  He handed me a sheet of paper, outlining the tour.

  “I’m going to assume that you will be guiding the bigwigs around – the first responders, police, and other heavyweights. I’ll handle the locals.”

  I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  “Let me take you on a sample so you can get an idea of the flow. The tour will only last a few minutes, but we want to make sure everyone knows that this is a first-class facility, not a backwoods doctor’s office.”

  “Great,” I said. “You lead the way.”

  As Steve rehearsed the tour with me in tow, my mind wandered back to the beginning of this project. The events at Stormview the previous summer had taken their toll on me and resulted in the deaths of my father, my aunt, and her husband. They had also culminated in the incarceration of that evil mastermind, Vladimir Sokolov.

  After all that mayhem, I was determined to make something of myself and to give back to this island community that had embraced me so warmly.

  I recruited Steve on the trip to California for my father’s funeral. A couple weeks later, he joined me on the island. Since that time, we had been working tirelessly converting the first floor of the manor house, minus the kitchen and laundry room, into a free clinic for islanders, both from Storm and neighboring communities.

  Steve, an excellent nurse practitioner, also had shown himself to be a talented general contractor and had taken over most of the day-to-day supervision of the construction. I focused mainly on the big picture and approving expenditures. Tonight, we would be unveiling the fruits of our labor – a fully functioning modern clinic, complete with clinical lab, x-ray facility, and two patient rooms where we could care for critical cases overnight should inclement weather make transport to the mainland impossible or dangerous. Steve and I were proud of what we’d accomplished and tonight was our chance to show it off.

  When we finished the tour, Steve looked at me. “Well? What do you think?”

  “You covered everything,” I said, waving the paper he’d given me in front of his face. “I particularly appreciate your putting together this cheat sheet in case I get so nervous I forget where I am.”

  Steve grinned.

  The clock in the entryway chimed seven and I took a deep breath. My dream was about to become a reality.

  7

  Kate

  The Party

  EVERYTHING WAS GOING according to plan. It was a little after eight and Steve and I had just finished what we hoped would be the last of the clinic tours. Everyone seemed impressed by what we had accomplished, with the first responders and the police being especially complimentary and grateful. Before this, there had been no place to triage injuries or infectious processes other than on the mainland.

  “I’ll bet we get to try this out soon,” commented the head of Emergency Services at the local mainland hospital. “Forecasters say we may be getting our first winter nor’easter by next weekend. It’s always been hazardous trying to transport an injured islander to safety during a storm.”

  “We’ll be glad to help out,” I said. “And, we have a state-of-the-art generator installed so, if the island goes dark, the clinic will still have full power.”

  “Sounds like you’ve thought of everything. Thank you, Dr. Pomeroy.”

  I spoke with the man for a few more minutes, then walked over to the main lobby, where Jeremy was standing and talking with several of his fellow fishermen.

  “Having a good time?” he asked, putting his arm around me.

  “Yeah, I think things are going very well.”

  As I spoke, I glanced around the room. People were huddled in little circles, talking and drinking while some of the younger crowd danced. I was about to turn my attention back to Jeremy when something caught my eye.

  An old man was sitting in a wheelchair near the bar. The man looked positively ancient, but his chair looked even older. Was it a treasured antique? Or was it that he simply couldn’t afford a new chair?

  The man’s eyes were closed and I assumed he had fallen asleep. He had a plastic cup in his hand and, afraid he might spill the contents in his lap, I opened my mouth to ask Jeremy to take it from him. But, before I could speak, the man’s eyelids suddenly lifted, revealing a pair of penetrating blue eyes.

  I was surprised. They were not the watered-down eyes of an old man at all.

  He stared at me and, from somewhere deep inside, a flash of recognition shot through my gut, causing a shiver to creep down my spine. I stood entranced, eyes locked with his. Slowly, he brought the cup to his lips and tossed back its contents. Then, without breaking eye contact, he took the cane that was hanging off of the arm of his chair and began to pound it on angrily on the floor.

  BAM! BAM! BAM!

  Folks standing with us all turned in the old man’s direction, wondering what was going on. From a group huddled near the buffet, a woman appeared, pushing her way through the crowd to where the old man sat.

  “Mary Morrison,” I whispered to Jeremy. “Is that old guy with her?”

  “Oh, yeah. I forget to tell you. They came in when you were touring. The old geezer’s Terry’s grandfather, Ian Morrison. He’s visiting from South Carolina.”

  When Jeremy said the old man’s name, a vague memory from my ancestral past washed over me, but it was too fleeting to mean anything.

  We watched Mary as she approached her husband’s grandfather, who was still pounding the floor with his cane. Her gait was unsteady and I wondered if she’d had too much to drink.

  When she was by his side, he stopped pounding and began talking, giving her something that looked like a tongue-lashing. When he was finished, she took the cup from his hand and scurried away toward the bar.

  The old man watched her leave, then turned his attention back to me, his eyes probing as he looked me up and down. I was beginning to feel offended, but then he turned his gaze to my fiancé. Jeremy, deep in conversation with his friends, was unaware of the man’s inspection.

  Mary came scurrying back with a cup full of what I assumed was liquor and handed it to the old man. He said nothing, just eyed her coldly as he took a sip. Head bowed, she pushed her way back through the crowd and disappeared.

  “Sweethe
art, do you think it’s time to make our announcement?”

  Startled, I turned to Jeremy, who was looking at me questioningly.

  “Is anything wrong?” he asked, puzzled. “Do you want to wait?”

  I took a deep breath and smiled. “No, let’s do it. All our friends are here. This is the perfect time.”

  Jeremy grinned and grabbed a fork from the table and began to bang it against his wine glass to get everyone’s attention.

  When all eyes were on us, Jeremy put his arm around me.

  “Friends and neighbors,” he said. “I’m very proud to announce that this little lady, Dr. Katy Pomeroy, has done me the honor of agreeing to be my bride.”

  The crowd broke into applause and people rushed forward to congratulate us. In the confusion, I lost sight of the old man and put him out of my mind.

  8

  The Old Man

  The Morrison Mansion

  HE WHEELED HIS chair onto the balcony off his bedroom. The air outside was cold, but he didn’t mind. Used to the warm, humid air on the barrier islands, the brisk whip of the wind over the water felt like a lover’s caress on his withered cheeks.

  Alive, he thought. Yes, the cold here in Maine makes you feel alive.

  He closed his eyes and turned his mind back to the evening just past.

  That foolish woman, he thought. Don’t know what Terrance sees in her. When this is over, she’ll have to be punished. I’ll take my cane to her and she’ll learn the consequences of disrespecting me. I wish I could do it now, but I can’t. I must save my energy. Once the transformation is complete, I will do what needs to be done.

  He chuckled as he envisioned Mary tied to a post, her blouse ripped to shreds, as he struck her time and time again with his cane.