THE HEMLOCK FALLS MYSTERIES
1 pretty little town in upstate New York
1 picturesque inn overlooking Hemlock Gorge
2 talented sisters better at solving crimes
than they are at their day jobs
1 (or more) murders
A WINNING RECIPE FOR MYSTERY LOVERS
Don’t miss these Hemlock Falls Mysteries . . .
A DINNER TO DIE FOR . . .
Less-than-friendly professional competition. A serious
case of cold feet. And, oh yes, a local murder. Could things
go worse on Meg’s wedding day?
BURIED BY BREAKFAST . . .
The leader of a raucous group of protestors turns up
dead—and the Quilliams must quell fears and catch a killer
before another local V.I.P. is greeted with an untimely
R.I.P.
A PUREE OF POISON . . .
While residents celebrate the 133rd anniversary of the Battle of Hemlock Falls, the Quilliam sisters investigate the deaths of three people who dined at the Inn before checking out.
FRIED BY JURY . . .
Two rival fried chicken restaurants are about to set up shop
in Hemlock Falls—and the Quilliams have to turn up the
heat when the competition turns deadly.
JUST DESSERTS . . .
There’s a meteorologist convention coming to the Inn, and
it’s up to Quill and Meg to make sure an elusive killer
doesn’t make murder part of the forecast.
continued . . .
MARINADE FOR MURDER . . .
The Quilliams’ plans for the future of the Inn may end up
on the cutting room floor when a group of TV cartoon
writers checks in—and the producer checks out.
A STEAK IN MURDER . . .
While trying to sell the locals on the idea of raising their
own herds, a visiting Texas cattleman gets sent to that big
trail drive in the sky. The Quilliams set out to catch the culprit and reclaim their precious Inn . . . without getting stampeded themselves!
A TOUCH OF THE GRAPE . . .
Five women jewelry makers are a welcome change from
the tourist slump the Inn is having. All that changes when
two of the ladies end up dead, and the Quilliams are on the
hunt for a crafty killer.
DEATH DINES OUT . . .
While working for a charity in Palm Beach, the Quilliam
sisters uncover a vengeful plot that has a wealthy socialite
out to humiliate her husband. Now the sleuths must convince the couple to bury the hatchet—before they bury each other!
MURDER WELL-DONE . . .
When the Inn hosts the wedding rehearsal dinner for an ex-
senator, someone begins cutting down the guest list in a
most deadly way. And Quill and Meg have to catch a killer
before the rehearsal dinner ends up being someone’s last
meal.
A PINCH OF POISON . . .
Hendrick Conway is a nosy newsman who thinks something funny is going on at a local development project. But when two of his relatives are killed, the Quilliam sisters
race against a deadline of their own.
A DASH OF DEATH . . .
Quill and Meg are on the trail of the murderer of two local
women who won a design contest. Helena Houndswood, a
noted expert of stylish living, was furious when she lost.
But mad enough to kill?
A TASTE FOR MURDER . . .
The annual History Days festival takes a deadly turn when
a reenactment of a seventeenth-century witch trial leads to
twentieth-century murder. Since the victim is a paying
guest, the least Quill and Meg could do is investigate.
The Hemlock Falls Mysteries by Claudia Bishop
a taste for murder
a dash of death
a pinch of poison
murder well-done
death dines out
a touch of the grape
a steak in murder
marinade for murder
just desserts
fried by jury
a puree of poison
buried by breakfast
a dinner to die for
ground to a halt
The Casebooks of Dr. McKenzie Mysteries
by Claudia Bishop
the case of the roasted onion
GROUND
TO A HALT
CLAUDIA
BISHOP
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.
PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.
GROUND TO A HALT
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
Copyright © 2007 by Mary Stanton.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
ISBN: 1-4295-5847-4
BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME
Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design
are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
To My Readers,
with warmest thanks for all the time you’ve spent
in Hemlock Falls
CAST OF CHARACTERS
AT THE INN AT HEMLOCK FALLS
Sarah Quilliam-McHale
owner-operator
Margaret Quilliam
her sister, and chef
Doreen Muxworthy
housekeeper
; John Raintree
business manager
Elizabeth Chou
a chef
Peter Hairston
sommelier
Cassie
a waitress
Dina Muir
receptionist
Lila Longstreet
a guest
Millard Barnstaple
a guest; president, Vegan
Vittles
Priscilla Barnstaple
a guest; Millard’s wife
Victoria Finnegan
an attorney
Robin Finnegan
a guest; her husband
Maxwell Kittleburger
a guest; president,
Pet-Pro Protein
Olivia Oberlie
a guest; pet psychic
Rudy Baranga
a guest; a food wholesaler
Max
a dog
And various waiters, groundskeepers, sous chefs, et al.
IN THE VILLAGE OF HEMLOCK FALLS
Myles McHale
investigator
Elmer Henry
the mayor
Adela Henry
the mayoress
Jerry Grimsby
a chef
x
Cast of Characters
Marge Schmidt
businesswoman
Betty Hall
Marge’s partner
Pamela Durbin
owner, Pamela’s
Pampered Puppy
Palace
Davy Kiddermeister
the sheriff
Howie Murchinson
town attorney and justice
of the peace
Miriam Doncaster
the librarian
Esther West
owner, West’s Best Dress
Shoppe
Harvey Bozzel
advertising executive
Bernie Hamm
owner, Heavenly Hogg’s
Quincy Peterson
a sixth grader
Maria Kowalski
a first-grade teacher
Harland Peterson
a farmer
AND OTHERS
Lt. Anson Harker
NYS Police
Lt. Simon Provost
Tompkins County
Sheriff’s Department
CHAPTER 1
The morning breakfast crowd at Marge Schmidt’s All-
American Diner was in agreement: Quincy Peterson
was destined to come to a bad end.
It was not, Sarah Quilliam mused, as she extricated
her curls from the wad of Double Trouble Watermelon
Bubblegum that Quincy had stuck in her hair, that the
citizens of Hemlock Falls disliked the Peterson family.
Nor were those villagers who dropped in at Marge’s
every morning for coffee and Betty Hall’s famous cinnamon buns spiteful just for the heck of it. Quincy’s antisocial behavior was notorious. The diner crowd usually had an accurate finger on the village affairs. There was
the incident of the Superglue and Nadine’s angora cat at
Nickerson’s Hardware store. The stink bomb at the
School Board meeting in May. The mustache in permanent marker on the statue of General C. C. Hemlock’s horse in Peterson Park. And currently, Quincy’s fascination with all of the places that chewed bubblegum would stick in a more or less everlasting way.
“Told ya not to help with this field trip, didn’t I?”
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Claudia Bishop
Marge Schmidt poured Quill a second cup of coffee.
There was a subterranean we-told-you-so sort of
chuckle from the villagers seated near Quill’s table.
Quill carefully pulled out the last bit of gum from
her hair and balled it into a paper napkin. Quincy was
seated directly across from her. He smiled. It was quite
a nice smile. You’d never guess from his angelic looks
that he was a demon in the guise of a six-year-old.
Quincy stuck his tongue out as far as it would go, revealing another wad of gum. Quill grabbed protectively at her hair, and resisted the impulse to shake the kid by
his ankles until he turned blue. “Yes, Marge,” she said
rather crossly, “you did tell me not to do it.”
“So why did you?” Marge persisted. Marge resembled a smaller version of a Sherman tank. Her neck swiveled in a turretlike way, and her small, bullet-sharp
gaze was uncompromising in its directness. She was a
very good friend to Quill and her sister Meg, but she
wasn’t the most tactful person around.
There was something different about her today.
Quill’s visual memory was excellent. Marge had tinted
her hair a brighter (rather brassy) ginger color. An inexpert smudge of blue eyeliner creased her upper lids. She wore a sequined t-shirt under her bowling jacket.
Marge avoided Quill’s inquiring look and directed
her blue-rimmed, unwavering stare at Quill’s stomach,
which was slim and flat in a well-cut cotton skirt. “Getting used to being around kiddies, maybe?”
Quill, recently and precipitously married to Myles
McHale (to the astonishment of the entire village) felt
herself turn pink. “Of course not.”
This was a fib. She was thirty-six, and her biologi
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3
cal clock was chiming loud and clear. Her sister Meg’s
interest in Quill’s possible pregnancy was even more
persistent.
“You heard about John,” Marge said with an air of
approval. “He and Trish had their first. Little girl.”
“Oh, yes,” Quill said. She could feel her face light up.
John, who had moved from being Quill’s business manager to her accountant as her own expertise grew, was coming to visit them Saturday with the new baby.
“He’s quite an example,” Marge pointed out. “Bachelor for years. And now lookit ’m.”
“I’m here because Maria called me in a total panic
this morning,” Quill said in a flustered way, “flu’s decimated the teachers’ aides. There wasn’t anyone else to call. She was in a pickle.”
Marge snorted. “You put yourself on the volunteer
list, though. Didn’t ya? Told ya this kind of thing wasn’t
your bag. Didn’t I?”
Quill sighed and glanced at her watch. The school
van was running late. Marge’s All-American Diner was
the collection point for the first-grade field trip to the
Heavenly Hogg’s Pig Farm. A dozen or more six-yearolds were distributed around the restaurant like restless chickens, waiting for Maria Kowalski and their ride.
Quill, along with two harried school aides, was chaperoning the trip.
“What could I do? Poor Maria tried everyone else.
By the time she got to me she was desperate. It’s midweek and things are a little slow at the Inn, and I thought, why not? How hard can it be to take care of a
bunch of
. . . stop that immediately, Quincy.” She
reached across the table and removed the glass sugar jar
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Claudia Bishop
from his sticky grasp. She peered doubtfully at it. “How
full was it, Marge?”
“Near the top.”
“Well, it’s only a quarter full now.”
Marge, whose barracuda instincts had helped make
her the richest woman in Tompkins County, gave
Quincy the benefit of the glare that had reduced corporate raiders to jelly and snapped, “What’d ya do with the sugar, kid?”
Quincy said “Phuut!” and sprayed spit and sugar all
over the linoleum-topped table.
“D
o you suppose he ate it all?” Quill rubbed her temples with both hands. “If he ate it all he’s going to go into glucose shock, or something.”
“You wish,” Marge said unfeelingly. “At least he’d
be unconscious. I tell you what, you take him on over to
the ER at the clinic and dump him there. It’ll be the
smartest move you’ll make all week.”
“I want to go to the ee-rr,” Quincy said.
“You’ll be fine,” Quill said. “I mean, you feel okay,
don’t you?”
“If I don’t, do I get to go to the ee-rr?”
“Is your tummy upset?” Quill looked at him anxiously. “Do you feel dizzy?”
“What IS the ee-rr?” Quincy persisted, “I want to
see it.”
“No, you don’t,” Marge said.
“Yes, I do.”
“No, you don’t”
“Yes, I DO!”
Marge thrust out one meaty arm and clamped her
palm over Quincy’s mouth. “Shut up, you.”
GROUND TO A HALT
5
“Watch out!” Quill said hastily, “He’ll . . .”
“Ow!” Marge snatched her hand away.
“. . . bite,” Quill finished.
Quincy smacked his lips in a thoughtful way.
The door to the diner swung open. Quill turned in
her seat. “Thank goodness. There’s Maria.” She rose,
slung her purse over her shoulder, grabbed Quincy gently by the back of the neck, and waved at the grade-school teacher. Maria Kowalski propped the front door
to the diner open and waved cheerfully back. She was a
comfortable-looking woman in her mid-thirties, with a
round, open face, dark eyes, and dark brown hair drawn
back in a practical ponytail. She was dressed for the
warm September weather in sandals, a droopy skirt, and
a white cotton blouse untucked at one end.
“I see you made it, Quill!” she called.
Quill nodded.
“Terrific!” Maria’s gaze swept around the diner.
“People!” she shouted. She clapped her hands briskly
together, “People! The van’s right outside at the curb.
Line up nicely, please.” She frowned, suddenly, amid
the general scraping of chairs and the surge toward the
door. “Quincy? I saw that. Quill, if you could just pay
a leetle bit closer atten . . . Quincy, if you pinch Emily
one more time, that’s it for you, young man. No trip to
see the nice little pigs. You’ll have to stay with Miss
Quilliam up at her nice Inn for the rest of the day.”
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