Scott gave a weary sigh. “I know you and the Silver Sentinels do what you feel is necessary to help your friends and the community. I understand why you’re looking into this, what with Daniel involved. I won’t try to talk you and the others out of it, but I do worry about all of you. Like before, if there’s something I can do to help, let me know.”
“Thanks for understanding.”
Scott put his hands on my shoulders. “Kelly, be careful. Promise me that.”
“I promise.”
The phone rang and Scott answered it. “Hello.” He nodded a few times. “I can come over and help.” He hung up.
I slipped on my coat and picked up my purse.
“A couple of the guys need my help moving some furniture. It shouldn’t take more than about ten or fifteen minutes. Please let the Sentinels know I’ll be a little late.”
“Sure…and thank you again for a wonderful dinner.”
“Let me walk you to the door so I can turn the lights on.”
It had gotten dark while we cleaned up after dinner. Scott flipped a switch, and light flooded the yard.
“See you in a bit,” I said.
“Sounds good.”
I walked to my truck and got in. Scott closed the door.
I hadn’t been to the Professor’s house before, but his directions were impeccable, and I had no trouble finding it. A bright light shining on the brass house number confirmed it was the correct place. The house was painted dark gray with light gray trim and railings.
I parked and walked up a cement walkway bordered on both sides by a neatly trimmed lawn. A border of delicate yellow flowers lined the front of the house and lent a light perfume to the air. Wide steps led to a covered porch. I used a metal door knocker in the shape of an open book to announce my arrival.
The Professor opened the door. “My dear, I see you found us. Please come in.”
I stepped in and warm air enveloped me, carrying a pleasant mixture of smoke laced with a hint of sweetness. A vase with the same blossoms I’d seen on the way in sat on a table next to a comfortably worn brown leather couch. A crackling fire burned in a wide stone fireplace, its flames dancing behind a screen.
A brown leather chair matching the couch angled in the fire’s direction, a yellow and brown plaid blanket folded over one arm. Soft indentations mimicked the form of the most recent occupant. An oriental rug with a predominately orange and cream pattern covered a dark wood floor.
And books.
Books were everywhere.
Full bookshelves lined both sides of the fireplace and there were no empty spaces I could see. The coffee table had a stack, and the end table holding the flowers revealed a paperback with a protruding bookmark in the soft glow of a reading lamp. The far side of the room housed a floor-to-ceiling built-in bookcase and more books.
To my right was a brightly lit dining room. A chorus of hellos greeted me from the silver-haired Sentinels sitting around a table. The Professor hung my jacket in a coat closet, and we joined them.
“Would you like something to drink?” The Professor indicated a sideboard with coffee, tea, and water.
“Coffee would be nice. Thanks.”
We’d shared enough meetings at this point he didn’t have to ask if I wanted any cream or sugar. He knew I liked it black.
Four pies lined the center of the table, with knives and servers at the ready next to them. China plates with a silver pattern, stacked napkins, and a row of forks rested at the end of the table.
I surveyed the desserts. “These are beautiful. I see the pecan pie Helen baked for the Professor. What are the other flavors?”
Gertie pointed to one with a perfectly browned crust. “Dutch apple.”
“Coconut cream was my contribution,” Mary said.
I had no trouble recognizing it with the toasted coconut topping.
“Rudy and me work together,” Ivan said. “He do crust and I buy jar of rum and brandy mincemeat.”
Rudy added, “Ivan needs to give himself more credit. He also grated orange rind to add to it.”
“Yah. Not easy. Grated me too.” He held up one of his large hands with a scrape across the knuckle.
“Oh, no, Ivan!” Mary exclaimed.
“No worry. I am fisherman. Used to cuts.”
The Professor handed me a cup of coffee.
“Thanks,” I said. “I don’t see us eating all of this pie. What’s going to happen with what’s left?”
“Mary figured that one out,” Gertie said.
“Scott’s going to take it back to the center for the veterans and others who work there,” Mary said. “They’ll have a pleasant pie surprise! That’s sure to bring smiles all around.”
I sat next to Mary. “Scott will be along shortly. He had to help some people at the last minute.”
Mary pulled knitting needles and a project in progress from her bag. On a chair next to her, I spied the pink dog purse with the top open. Princess was curled up in pink blankets. The tan Chihuahua lifted her head, gave me a dreamy smile, and curled up a little tighter. Her collar sparkled with pink rhinestones.
Mary gave me one of her dimpled smiles. “Such a nice young man, Kelly. And to think he’s a gourmet cook, in addition to being attractive and a pleasure to be around.”
Ever since the Silver Sentinels and I had breakfast at Scott’s, they seized every opportunity to point out how nice he was. Five matchmakers at work.
“What are you working on, Mary?” I asked.
“Knitting caps for the veterans. When I finish enough for all of them, I’ll make matching scarves.”
I ran my fingers over the black skein of super-soft yarn. “That’s really thoughtful of you.”
“There’s a committee that meets regularly to discuss the community center. We decided we’ll do a potluck at the end of the month for everyone involved with it. We’re going to surprise the veterans at the dinner. Scott’s giving us space in the dining room hutch. There’ll be a big sign saying ‘thank you for serving our country’ and a smaller one under it saying ‘from us to you.’”
Gertie joined in. “I’m going to give jars of my strawberry preserves.”
“Ivan, Rudy, and I are talking to local businesses about what they can donate,” the Professor said. “We’ve gotten gift certificates and a variety of useful items. They’re being very generous.”
“I think it’s great what you and the community are doing.” I sipped my coffee, enjoying the taste of the strong, dark roast. “On a different subject, Scott knows what we’re working on.”
Mary’s needles stopped. “How did he take it? I know he wasn’t too happy about our last investigation.”
“He understands why we do what we do. Scott offered to help, so please keep him in mind when you’re planning next steps.”
I caught them up on the afternoon’s events. Elise’s comment about blackmail evoked an ooh and Peter’s perceived threat brought a drawn-out ahh.
“I’m meeting Elise tomorrow.” Mary batted her eyelashes quickly a few times and gave a mischievous look. “I can play quite the gossip when necessary.”
“What are you thinking of saying?”
Mary looked at an empty chair. “Elise, honey, I know it’s awful that reporter died, but…” She lowered her voice. It dripped with sugary sweetness. An image of a Southern belle in a bonnet and ruffled dress entered my mind’s eye. “I hear he used the information he gathered to pad his bank account at the expense of a number of people in this town. Maybe he brought it on himself.” She gave a self-satisfied nod to the imaginary Elise.
The Professor clapped. “Very well done, my dear. Do you have any acting experience?”
“Many years ago I participated in a few plays with a local theatre company.”
I put my coffee on the table. “Did any of you find out anyth
ing of interest?”
The Professor nodded. “Mr. Mushroom said the club, the Fungi Finders, called an emergency meeting. Ned Blaine appeared to have targeted their group for finding their mushroom areas. He’s going to talk to a couple of the members and see what he can learn.”
“Not so good at lumber yard.” Ivan’s voice filled the room and probably went out the windows for passersby to hear. Quiet and soft-spoken he was not. “Not want to talk. Want to sell.”
Rudy nodded. “It was clear no one wanted to talk about fresh sinker logs. More than happy to sell us pieces in storage—for an arm and a leg.”
Ivan grinned widely. “I know mean much money.”
As a group, we had had fun teaching Ivan idioms which he initially called idiotgrams.
“I didn’t get anything from my organic gardening club,” Gertie added. “They knew what Ned Blaine was doing, but no one seemed overly upset. I asked a couple of my friends to let me know if they hear anything.”
“Are you all available to meet noon tomorrow at the inn?” I asked.
Affirmative nods gave me my answer.
“I’ll text Andy and Phil. They might find out something at the party tonight. I’ll let Daniel know as well.”
“I’ll go early and update the charts with what we just talked about. That way we can start on time,” Gertie said.
A knock on the door made me guess Scott had arrived.
As he entered the room, I had to agree with Mary. Over six feet tall with dark hair, blue eyes, and a fabulous smile, he fit the attractive category, but what pulled at me was his thoughtfulness and easygoing manner. While what the Sentinels and I were doing bothered him because he was concerned about our welfare, he also respected our decision to do what we felt was right.
That meant a lot to me. It gave me freedom to be me. People who were sure their way was the only way could make life unpleasant.
“Hi, everyone. Sorry I’m late.” He placed his creation on the table. The gold strips glittered in the light.
Gertie inspected the pie. “You outdid yourself, young man.”
An ornate grandfather clock, with a mirrored back and gleaming brass chimes, stood at the end of the room. The Professor looked at it and frowned. “I’m surprised Clarence and Timothy aren’t here yet.”
As if on cue, a phone rang on a triangular table tucked in a corner.
“Maybe that’s them.” The Professor picked up the receiver. “Hello.” He listened, the frown growing deeper. “What! Is he going to be okay?”
We all waited, holding our collective breath.
“Of course you can bring Max to my house. I’ll see you when you get here.” He hung up and turned to us. “Clarence is in intensive care.”
“What happened? A diabetic incident?” I asked.
“No. They think he was poisoned.”
Chapter 16
A chorus of gasps followed the announcement.
“They think it was from mushrooms,” the Professor said. “The doctors believe he’ll be okay.”
“Do they have any idea how it happened?” I asked. “Elise was very clear about people not eating the mushrooms they picked. She purchased what she cooked from certified suppliers.”
The Professor shook his head. “No. Timothy is bringing Max to stay with us. Maybe he can tell us more about what happened.”
“Do you know how long it will be before he gets here?” Gertie asked.
“He wasn’t sure,” the Professor replied.
Gertie stood and addressed the group. “I know this isn’t the festive occasion we’d envisioned. However, we can be happy and thankful Clarence is expected to recover. In honor of that, I say let’s eat pie.”
Mary nodded. “We put a lot of work into these creations, and it’s a good time to bring a smile to our faces and send some sweet thoughts to Clarence.”
“I agree,” the Professor said. “We can’t help Clarence right now, but we can celebrate each day we have.”
“How did you want us to handle the sampling, Professor?” Mary asked.
“I thought each person could get a plate and fork and take a piece of whichever pies they were interested in.”
Rudy distributed the plates, and Ivan followed with the forks. Mary put a napkin next to each person. The Professor retrieved my ice cream and added it to the table with a scoop. We began to take a slice of one pie then another.
“I’m going to try them all,” Scott said.
I laughed. “I agree. I don’t see one I wouldn’t want to taste.”
Everyone’s plates ended up with five small pieces of pie and a scoop of ice cream. Talking ceased while we savored the delicious desserts.
I examined the slice from Scott’s masterpiece. I’d seen the top and its final decorations, and now I could see what was inside. Underneath the glistening dark chocolate lay a thin layer of light tan followed by a thicker cream-colored layer.
I took a bite and savored the different flavors. The delightful taste of a sweet peanut butter mixture paired with dark chocolate was followed by a light vanilla mixture laced with crunchy mini malted balls. I wasn’t surprised it tasted as good as it looked. From the appreciative murmurs around me, the others were enjoying themselves as well.
A knock interrupted us.
The Professor opened the door and let Timothy and Max in. His brother had a dog bed tucked under his left arm and held Max’s leash and a pail in his right hand.
Ivan and Scott went to help him.
Scott took the bed. “Where would you like this?” he asked the Professor.
“Put it over near the fire. He’ll be more comfortable there.”
Ivan had taken the pail.
“That’s for Max’s water. He’s already been fed,” Timothy said.
“I will fill for you.” Ivan disappeared down the hallway next to the dining room.
Timothy looked pale and his eyes were red. Max still wore his vest. Timothy bent down, removed it, and walked the dog over to his bed. He unclipped the leash and Max immediately lay down and curled up, emitting a long sigh.
Ivan returned with the water and put it down near the dog.
The Professor introduced Scott, then pulled out a chair for his brother. “Would you like some coffee? And please help yourself to pie.”
“Coffee would be great,” Timothy said, then shook his head. “I don’t feel like a pie party with Clarence in the hospital. It doesn’t seem right.”
“Forget the party part,” Mary said. “You need to keep up your strength. Don’t think of them as dessert. These are nutritious pies.” She got up and pointed to the one the Professor contributed. “Pecans provide protein.” Mary continued down the line. “Apple for fruit, medicinal dark chocolate, raisins for minerals, and…” She faltered when she came to her coconut cream. “And coconut for fiber.”
I applauded her effort but doubted the few toasted curls of coconut constituted enough to be considered nutritional fiber. Gertie took a slice of each and put them on a plate.
She handed it to Timothy. “Mary’s right. This will help.”
Timothy gave her a weak smile. “Thanks.”
“Please tell us what happened,” the Professor said.
Timothy had taken a bite of the pecan pie. He chewed it slowly, then swallowed. “Just as we finished dinner, Clarence began to sweat, his face flushed, and his eyes began watering.”
Timothy proceeded to recount what had taken place. When Clarence had started to speak, he sounded confused and disoriented and said he felt nauseous. Clarence stood, staggered, and almost fell. One of the class members grabbed him and helped him to the floor.
It turned out the person was a doctor. He instructed his wife to get his medical kit. He asked Clarence some questions, including whether or not he had any allergies. His wife came back and the doctor took a vial out
of his bag and injected Clarence. The doctor told the group he believed Clarence had ingested the toxin muscarine, found in various mushrooms, a poison with very distinctive symptoms.
When planning for the class, the doctor had studied poisonous fungi and had come prepared to help if anyone became ill. Muscarine poisoning usually wasn’t fatal, but it appeared Clarence had been hit exceptionally hard. Timothy ended the story of what had happened by telling us Elise called 911.
“Does anyone know how he might have gotten poisoned?” I asked.
“No idea,” Timothy replied. “Elise asked him if he’d eaten any of the mushrooms he’d picked, and he said no. I assured him I’d look after Max. I got his truck keys from him because that’s where all of Max’s supplies are kept.”
“How long will he be in the hospital?” Mary asked.
“They’re not sure.” Timothy put his fork down on his now clean plate. “I’ll go see him tomorrow morning. The doctors said he might have died, and the treatment he received at the inn probably saved his life.”
The group fell silent on that somber note.
Mary spoke first. “We’re certainly all glad he’s on the road to recovery.” She picked up Timothy’s plate. “Would you like some more pie?”
“No, thank you. But I do feel better. You were right about needing to eat something. I didn’t get through the whole dinner.”
“Timothy,” the Professor said, “I’m happy to fix you something to eat.”
“I’m fine now. Thanks for the offer.” Timothy’s shoulders sagged. “It’s been a long day. I’m ready to take Max for a walk and call it a night.”
“I feel the same,” the Professor said. “It’s been a long day for all of us, too, and we have a busy day tomorrow.”
I thought of Daniel, our worries, the questioning we’d been doing. Yes, a long day.
“I’ll take Max for a walk,” I said. “You take it easy.”
“Thanks, Kelly,” Timothy said. “I had to leave my car at your inn. Is that a problem?”
“Not at all. Don’t give it another thought.”
Murder at the Mushroom Festival Page 11