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A Drink of Death (Japanese Tea Garden Mysteries Book 2)

Page 11

by Blythe Baker


  “Come and get it.” I don’t know where those defiant words came from.

  Mr. Butler wasn’t amused.

  “Give it to me!” he screamed. He wasn’t as calm as I had thought he was.

  I shook my head ‘no’ and backed up. The tiny needles of the thorn bushes poked into my hoodie and T-shirt and pricked at my skin.

  “Give me that cat or I’ll carve you into a million pieces and feed you to…”

  Just then, Mr. Butler abruptly stopped speaking and fell over, hitting the ground with a thud.

  There was no sign of what had felled him. Had he had a heart attack? Did a blood clot suddenly shoot to his heart and kill him right there on the spot? I stared at his body. He wasn’t dead. I could clearly see his body rising and falling with steady breathing.

  “Maddie?”

  I blinked. Who was there? Memories of the old ghost stories about the mansion flashed through my mind.

  “Maddie, where is my mother?”

  Stepping into the light from the kerosene lamp was Drake.

  My eyes filled with tears. I dropped the stone I was holding, before hobbling pitifully to his arms.

  He dropped the two-by-four he had apparently used to crack Mr. Butler over the head. I couldn’t imagine where he had gotten the board and, in that moment, I didn’t care.

  “Mamma Jackie’s in the basement,” I squeaked. “He said he wouldn’t hurt her if I gave him the cat.”

  We didn’t embrace like we were still lovers. It was more like the way a fireman might pull a person from a burning building. I held on tight just to chase away the notion it might be a dream. He held on tight so I wouldn’t do anything stupid.

  Before I lead him to the house, Drake removed his silk tie and used it to tie Mr. Butler’s hands behind his back. I suggested binding his feet too, and so Drake took off his belt and used it as a restraint. We left Mr. Butler hogtied while we went back into the house to get Mamma Jackie.

  16

  Mamma Jackie was still tied to the chair in the basement. Thankfully, Mr. Butler hadn’t done anything else to her. Drake untied her feet, while I untied her hands. It took Drake one swift movement to scoop up the old lady in his arms and carry her up the stairs. I walked ahead of him, carrying the lamp.

  “Careful on the steps,” I coached. “That one is most solid on your right. The next one, on the left. You’ve got two that are solid in the middle. There you go.”

  It was slow but we finally got her outside.

  Drake laid her down in the cool grass and pulled out his cell phone to quickly dial 9-1-1. It only took a matter of minutes and then we could hear the sirens approaching.

  “How did you know we were here?” I asked.

  “When I called the prison back in Winchester, I was informed that Pete Nicolaidis had died in prison only a couple weeks ago.”

  “Aren’t they supposed to inform you about things like that?”

  “You know how backlogged the courts are. Good luck finding out anything important without digging into it yourself,” he said. “Well, I was actually going to pay a visit to the prison anyway and talk to the number two guy in Nicolaidis’ crew. But then I got a call from Detective Sullivan, who informed me of the botched ransom drop-off.”

  “That was horrible,” I grumbled, as I held Mamma Jackie’s hand.

  “I’ll bet it was. But I remember telling you not to do anything like that, to stay home and wait for me to call.”

  “You’re making me wish I had taken my chances with Butler, Drake. Motivational speaking was never your strong point,” I said with as much sugary sweetness as I could muster.

  “Well, since I knew you weren’t listening to me and by this time Nicolaidis’ mob was no longer in the suspect pool, I gave it some thought and realized who was responsible. That piece of garbage, Butler.”

  “How did you figure it out?” I rubbed my stomach, which still hurt from sliding over the windowsill earlier. I wanted to massage my aching groin muscle but that would have been embarrassing.

  “It was just a suspicious vibe Butler gave off, when I stopped by at the community garden earlier. And something he said to me. I’d have thought more about it at the time, if I hadn’t been so set on blaming Nicolaidis.”

  Drake held his mother’s other hand. I saw he had his finger on her pulse. It was sweet to see him looking so concerned. He and his mother both had hard shells, but every once in a while a little crack would expose something softer inside.

  “After that, it didn’t take anything to look into Butler online,” he continued. “The internet not only told me where he lived but where he worked. I figured he wouldn’t bring Mom to his home, because there were too many people around there. But he was the groundskeeper here for the past couple of years. It was the perfect hideout.”

  I was shocked, not by what Drake was telling me, but by the fact that my deductions weren’t that unique after all. Here I had been ready to buy myself a Sherlock Holmes hat and magnifying glass, but even my ex-husband had figured this one out.

  “But Drake,” I interrupted him. “What did Mr. Butler say that made you know it was him?”

  Drake tilted his head. “He said my mother was like a refreshing glass of lemonade on a hot summer day.” He swallowed hard and looked at me as if he were trying to hold in the laughter.

  “Well, she is,” I said. “Minus the sugar.”

  Drake chuckled. It was at the sound of her son’s laughter that Mamma Jackie began to come to.

  “Where am I?” she murmured in obvious confusion. “Did you do this to me?” She pointed a finger at me, but the accusation sounded halfhearted.

  “Now, Mamma, you know I wouldn’t try to murder my favorite enemy,” I said fondly.

  Just then, the paramedics and two squad cars pulled up at the front of the house. Within seconds, Drake was talking with the paramedics, giving details and orders and taking charge like he always did.

  “Mamma Jackie, the paramedics are going to put you on a stretcher,” I told the old woman, as she blinked and stared around.

  “No, they aren’t,” she grumbled.

  “Yes, they are. You’ve been tied to a chair for three days and drugged. You are going to the hospital.”

  “You finally did it,” She griped. “You drugged me and probably sold all my belongings. Pocketed the money so you can pay for your kitchen.”

  “What? Don’t be ridiculous, Mamma Jackie. Your stuff isn’t worth enough to pay for my kitchen. It isn’t worth enough to pay for a cheeseburger.”

  The paramedics laid a stretcher next to Mamma Jackie and started to talk to her. Her answers to their questions were quite colorful.

  “I’m sorry,” I said to the young male EMT who would be driving the ambulance to St. Mary of the Angels Hospital on this side of town. “She’s been through a lot.”

  “No worries, Mrs. Morgan.” He smiled. His mustache was thick but I could see straight white teeth beneath it. “If this is her attitude after being drugged and kidnapped, I’d say the judge should show leniency to her kidnapper.”

  I walked to the back of the ambulance and climbed inside.

  “They’re taking you to the hospital now. I’ll get there as soon as I can. Can you try and be good?”

  “Where’s Moonshine?” she barked.

  “He’s at home. He’ll be so glad to see you when you get back.” I patted her arm but she snatched it away from me.

  “I’ll bet he’s starving. You probably didn’t feed him at all while I was gone.”

  “Of course I did. Now, Mamma Jackie, you know I’d never hurt an animal. Not even you. Moonshine is just fine except that he misses you. So do what the doctors and nurses tell you and you’ll get to come home sooner, rather than later.”

  In response to my kindness, she said, “What happened to you? You look like a mess.”

  “I’m okay, Mamma Jackie.”

  “No wonder you’re single. If you want to keep a man, you have to put a little effort in. Of cours
e, look at the small effort Drake put into saving his own mother. I was tied up for a week.”

  “You were not. You were there for three days and he was franticly searching for you.” I wasn’t going to tell her I was the one who had found her first. What was the point? I didn’t have any reason to make Drake look bad and there really wasn’t anything I could do to look good to this woman anyway. “Now you are safe. I’m going to have to talk to the police. Then I’ll get back to my car and meet you at the hospital.”

  Mamma Jackie turned her head. Her jaw moved up and down, like she was mumbling insults I couldn’t quite hear. I was used to this. It was just how she was.

  “Okay then,” I said quietly. I pushed myself up, using her gurney as leverage.

  Suddenly, her hand landed on mine. She still didn’t look at me but she held my hand there. Slowly, like I was in front of a rattlesnake, I sat back down.

  Mamma Jackie wasn’t muttering insults under her breath. She was saying “thank you”. She was saying she was still scared. She was saying she was glad I was there. Not Drake. Not the EMTs. Me. Her ex-daughter-in-law.

  I placed my other hand on hers and said nothing, as the EMT’s closed the doors to the ambulance and sped to the hospital.

  I could talk to the police later. I wasn’t leaving Mamma Jackie.

  17

  “Miss Morgan, I’m telling you that you’ll need to rest, if you want to heal.” The little man in the white lab coat looked at me sternly. His name was Doctor Keeley.

  “I don’t even know if I really pulled a groin muscle. That’s all I’m saying,” I protested. I was embarrassed to sit here with an icepack in my lap in the emergency room. Not to mention the humiliation of my ex-mother-in-law laughing about the whole thing, from the cubby next to mine.

  “You have pain in your groin, right?” Dr. Keeley asked, shrugging his shoulders.

  “Yes,” I answered meekly. “But just on the right side.” I straightened up, as if this fact somehow made my injury NOT a pulled muscle.

  “That’s a groin muscle. Get over it.” He pulled a pad from his pocket and a pen from his lapel and began to scribble something down. “Here’s what you’ll need to do.”

  It turned out there wasn’t much to do to fix this kind of injury. It hurt when I walked. I would have to stay off my feet for a couple days and apply an ice pack to the “affected area”.

  “If you prefer heat, a heating pad works as well. Medicine can help with the pain. But, you won’t be running any marathons any time soon. Stay off your feet for at least three days.”

  He ripped the little note with my instructions out of his notebook and handed it to me. I could barely read it. So, I nodded and stuffed the paper in the pocket of my hoodie.

  In the next cubby, I could hear Mamma Jackie snickering over my embarrassing injury.

  “Thanks, Mamma Jackie,” I shouted back to her.

  The thin curtain that was separating the two emergency room stalls was only closed halfway. Since we had both arrived together I had wanted them to just check out Mamma Jackie. But when Doctor Keeley saw me limping, he had me hop up on the table. I should have just hobbled right back out the emergency room door. I didn’t need a doctor telling me to take pills and rest.

  “Get your hands off me, girl! I don’t need you poking and prodding me!” I heard Mamma Jackie suddenly snap at one of the nurses.

  “Mamma Jackie, you behave yourself in there.” I went to hop off the table and assist the nurse with my mother-in-law, but Doctor Keeley put his hand up.

  “It’s all right, Miss Morgan. We’ve dealt with people like your mother-in-law before. Do you have a ride coming?”

  “Yeah. My ex-husband was supposed to follow us here.”

  “Then just sit tight.” With that, the man disappeared behind the white curtain and I could hear him mumbling to the nurse. Something about blood pressure and previous medication.

  “Listen, you get me off this table. There isn’t anything wrong with me, except a scratch on my hand,” Mamma Jackie protested.

  “I’ll be the judge of that, Mrs. Morgan,” the doctor snapped back.

  I heard a bedpan fall to the floor, a yelp, some shuffling feet and then quiet. I didn’t want to know what was going on with Mamma Jackie.

  As I was blocking out the stream of complaints coming from my mother-in-law, I saw the hulking form of Drake rushing past.

  “Mom, you need to let these people check you out,” he said firmly. “There are no ifs, ands, or buts. The longer you delay them, the longer you’ll stay here.”

  “Drake. Drake, honey,” Mamma Jackie gushed. “This is my son. He saved me. He rescued me. That’s why he looks like a mess. He rescued me and his ex-wife next door.” I heard the drop in her voice when she mentioned me.

  I knew it was petty but I would have liked a little recognition of the fact that I was the one who had tracked her highness down. Drake was off in Winchester for most of the excitement. But I had chosen to leave the glory to Drake.

  And he did show up just in time to foil Mr. Butler’s plan. My conscience wasn’t going to let me take the credit.

  “Even so,” I muttered to myself, “he didn’t even ruin his suit. I’ll bet there isn’t a speck of dirt on it.” I looked at my sweatpants that were torn and dirty. My hoodie had some thorns stuck in it and there were smears of mud in places. I unzipped the front but quickly zipped it back up. I didn’t smell as nice as I had when I left my house.

  I tried to scoot a little to the left, but a sharp jab of pain stabbed through my sore muscle. I grunted, just as Drake stepped through the curtain divider.

  “You okay?” He stepped up to me and pushed his jacket open, so that he could put his hands on his hips. I was right. There wasn’t a speck of dirt on him. I rolled my eyes.

  “Yeah, I’m all right.”

  “What’s that for?” He pointed to the ice pack that I had involuntarily placed over the throbbing muscle on my upper thigh.

  “I pulled a muscle,” I muttered.

  “Looks like you might have pulled a groin muscle. Those hurt.”

  I continued to nod my head and tried to act like it was nothing. “The doctor says to just keep the area cool and go easy for awhile.” I licked my lips. “I’m just doing it to make him happy. It doesn’t really hurt.”

  “Well, that’s good to know. Mom will need help when she gets back home.” Drake looked at his watch. He was already ready to pawn her off on me again. “She’s going to stay overnight for observation. But tomorrow, can you pick her up?”

  “I don’t know, Drake. I’ve got to go to the police station and give them my statement,” I lied. I had planned on going there after I got back to my car. I wasn’t tired. There was no way I was going to sleep with my injury bothering me. I was a bit of a train wreck.

  “Of course.” Drake nodded his head. “I’ll bring her by.”

  For a few seconds he stood there, hands on his hips and looking down at his shoes.

  “Do you need something else?” I hated to ask the question because with Drake there was almost always something else. He wasn’t what you might call generous.

  “I need to tell you thank you,” he admitted quietly.

  “For what?”

  He looked up at me and smiled.

  “For finding Mom. If it weren’t for you getting Butler out of the house, I’m afraid I might not have gotten the chance I did to put him out of commission.”

  “Oh, well, shucks.” I waved my hand. “I had nothing better to do tonight.” Sadly, that was a fact.

  “You could have really gotten hurt.” He stepped a little closer. “What would I have done then?”

  “Right, who’d watch over Mamma Jackie? Well, I promise to be more careful next time.”

  “That isn’t what I meant. I meant something could have happened to you. That wouldn’t be good, Maddie. Not at all.”

  I was surprised to hear him expressing so much concern. I wasn’t sure how to take it, so I said somethin
g I knew I’d regret.

  “Well, I didn’t just go to Redstone Manor. I had a hunch prior to that, but it turned out to be a dead end.”

  I had sworn that I was going to take my adventure at Paws Place to the grave with me. The embarrassment of showing up with Moonshine in that giant cage made me blush. Rifling around in that harmless office, positive I was going to stumble on some kind of human smuggling ring or something equally menacing, was humiliating. But it was the mad-dash out the door that really did me in. I’d never recover from that. In fact, I had decided that I was never even going to drive down that street ever again, for fear I might see Calvin Rute in the doorway and be recognized.

  But here I was telling the whole sordid affair to Drake. He stared at me.

  “So I threw the cage in the car and quickly sped away.”

  There weren’t many occasions when I could recall Drake really laughing wholeheartedly. Normally, a Drake Morgan laugh was a chortle with a smirk. Maybe you’d get a smile. More often, he’d just nod his head and exhale loudly.

  But this time, he not only laughed from deep in his belly but his eyes watered too. Maybe it was just the stress of the situation finally being released.

  “You got this tip from my notebook?” he finally asked. I could tell he was searching the files in his head to connect the dots. “Maddie, that was a reminder for my dry cleaning.”

  “You’re just saying that!” I shouted and tried not to laugh. It was odd that when you laughed, your groin muscles moved. The more mine hurt, the more I giggled. But it was Drake who made things worse. The more he laughed, the more I laughed.

  When the nurse stopped in to check on us we laughed even harder.

  “Your mother is going to think we’re laughing at her,” I whispered as I wiped my eyes and tried to regain some kind of composure.

  Drake leaned over and put his ear to the cloth curtain that separated his mother from us.

  Her words filtered through. “She’s trying to get him back. I just know it.” The old woman was not subtle in her assumptions and accusations. She was telling the nurse who was taking her blood pressure, “She’ll do anything. It wouldn’t surprise me if she paid Mr. Butler to kidnap me, just so she could see Drake.”

 

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