Jolly Dead St. Nicholas

by Carol A. Guy

  She followed him into the dining room, where the table was set with a white damask tablecloth, gold rimmed china plates and stemmed glassware. He was using the good silverware, she noticed. The wide, elaborate centerpiece on the table consisted of Christmas greenery, holly, and poinsettias as well as several pine cones. Four white tapers rose out of the arrangement, their yellow flames reflecting sparks of light off the table settings. Even from here, Adelaide could detect the subtle scent of pine from the tree in the living room. She felt her spirits lift enormously. In spite of all that had happened, it was the Christmas season, a time of celebration. She knew the reason for this impromptu invitation. In his own way Vernon was trying to take her mind off the murder investigation and all of its ramifications. Bless him for that.

  Adelaide followed him into a large, airy kitchen that had a small breakfast nook with a view of the spacious back yard. The streetlight in the alley behind his house illuminated the snowy landscape, revealing many graceful blue spruce trees. In the summer, Vernon’s yard was filled with flowering shrubs as well as a large vegetable garden.

  “Take a seat at the kitchen table, Addy. I just need to put the yeast rolls in the oven to warm up.”

  Adelaide pulled out one of the spindle-back chairs, turning it a little so she could watch Vernon work. She’d always liked this kitchen, with its golden oak cabinets, vintage gas stove, enamel sink, and granite countertops. It was warm and inviting, the kind of room meant to be the center of the home, where family members could gather to enjoy one another’s company as they prepared a meal. Only Vernon lived here all alone.

  “How is your sister?” Adelaide asked. Vivian, four years older than Vernon, had been widowed for almost a year.

  “Still trying to decide if she wants to stay in Cleveland or move to Florida.”

  “Well, doesn’t she have a friend in Sarasota?”

  “Yes. She visits there. I’ve encouraged her to go for it. I think the climate will be good for her.” He stirred something savory smelling in a big pot on the stovetop.

  Adelaide got up to join him. The beef tips bubbled slowly, the thick broth making glop, glop sounds. Vernon turned the burner off and replaced the lid. In a separate pot, the noodles looked ready. He went to the refrigerator and took out a large wooden salad bowl filled with crisp-looking greens.

  Adelaide took the bowl from his hands. “Let me put that on the table.”

  Opening a kitchen drawer, he took out a set of wooden tongs, laying them across the salad.

  When Adelaide returned to the kitchen, Vernon was taking the golden yeast rolls from the oven. With a narrow pastry brush he slathered melted butter over the tops, letting a little drip down the sides.

  Adelaide saw a wicker bread basket on the counter. A linen napkin lay next to it. She unfolded the napkin into the basket. Vernon arranged the rolls inside the cloth nest. Without any conversation she took the basket to the table, while he began ladling up the beef and noodles into a large china serving bowl.

  He followed close behind. “We work pretty good in tandem, don’t we Addy?” He put the bowl down next to the centerpiece.

  After pulling out a chair for her he poured them ice water from a pitcher on the table. Once he was seated across from her, he said, “Would you do the honor of serving the salad?”

  “I’d be delighted,” Adelaide said, giving them equal portions. “Is this homemade vinaigrette dressing?”

  “My very own recipe.”

  She noticed something in his mannerisms that was a little off tonight. He didn’t seem at ease; his conversation was forced. “I spoke with Luke Fagan today. I guess Betty is trying some new medication for her MS.”

  “He got the prescription filled a few days ago. I hope it helps her.” He looked down at his salad, eating with purpose.

  “Their son Frank is going to be working for Tim Hunter at the auto shop on Saturdays.” Adelaide ate hungrily.

  “That boy will do all right. He has goals in mind.” He served her some of the beef tips and noodles, then put some on his plate.

  “This smells wonderful. Is this the recipe Vivian sent you?” She took a taste, sighing with pleasure. The beef was so tender it nearly melted in her mouth. The rolls were crunchy on the outside, warm and flaky on the inside.

  Ignoring her question, Vernon looked up, meeting her gaze. “I have a goal of my own, Adelaide. Call it a New Year’s resolution.” Putting down his fork, he studied her carefully. His green eyes, lighter than hers but no less intense, had umber flecks in them which the candlelight enhanced.

  Adelaide began to feel a little bit uncomfortable. He’d stopped using her nickname. That sometimes meant something serious was about to be discussed. “And what is that?” She kept her tone light.

  “We’ve been friends since we were children. In high school, you gave me as much of a chance as you gave Albert. In the end you chose him. I never resented that, Adelaide. He was the perfect husband for you. I loved him like a brother.” He stopped, taking a drink of water.

  “Vernon, please, let’s not discuss—”

  He cut off her protest with a wave of his hand. “Let me finish, please. I need to say this. I might not have the courage again.”

  She stopped eating. Putting down her fork, she wiped her mouth with the linen napkin that had been resting on her lap. “All right. I’m listening.” She studied his cheerful, pudgy face. He was such a good friend. She desperately didn’t want to lose that.

  “I told you back then how I felt. I was in love with you. I still…I still am. We’re not old codgers, Adelaide. We have a lot of life left to live. I don’t know what the future might hold for either of us, but the things that have happened this past week made me realize we can’t waste a moment regretting things unsaid or undone. I don’t expect you to feel the same kind of love for me that I feel for you. I just think it is important that you know my feelings for you haven’t changed a bit in all these years. They never will. You are the love of my life, even though Albert was the love of yours.” He sat back, sighing heavily as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

  Adelaide felt tears sting her eyes. Vernon could be quite eloquent when he put his mind to it. She didn’t know what to do or say. She loved Vernon dearly, always would. But she could never have the same feelings for him that she’d had for Albert. Then it dawned on her that she didn’t need to. Vernon wasn’t Albert. He was a kind, generous man who would go out of his way to help a fellow human being. Was it fair to always compare him to Albert? She’d never allowed herself to entertain the possibility of a romantic relationship with Vernon. She always assumed nothing like that could happen because Albert had been her one, true love. By embracing such a narrow perspective was she cheating herself out of something wonderfully unique?

  Vernon was still staring at her. He looked nervous. “You’re not saying anything.”

  “I’ve been very unfair to you, haven’t I?” She sipped some water, her throat suddenly dry as sandpaper. The tears still pooled in her eyes.

  “Unfair? No. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just wanted to tell you how I feel. You don’t have to respond.”

  “Oh, but I do. You’ve put it out there, that elephant in the room we’ve never discussed.”

  Vernon looked stricken. “I’ve ruined things haven’t I?” His voice quivered.

  “Not at all. You’ve given me something to think about, that’s all. A wake up call, if you will.” She reached across the table for his hand. It was warm to the point of being almost hot. She could feel a slight tremor there. “You are the dearest man I know. I’ve been in a certain mindset about your place in my life. Maybe I need to take another look. Mind you, I make no promises.”

  He encased her hand in both of his. “I’m a patient man, Addy, but I’m warning you that I intend to court you from this moment on!”

  Adelaide gasped. Then she felt warm inside. She smiled. “Well, if you’re going to do that, you’d better start with dessert.
You did make dessert, didn’t you?”

  The twinkle was back in his eyes. “Cherry cheesecake, your favorite.”

  “Yours too, if I recall.” Adelaide watched him get up from the table and begin clearing away their dinner dishes. As he carried them through the archway into the kitchen she thought idly that it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to be courted again. It had been a long time.

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Daniel shared a cozy dinner of Chinese carryout with Brenda in front of the fireplace at his condo. Since the dish was chicken low mien, he chose a bottle of Pinot Grigio to go along with it. They sat on big pillows scattered on the floor, their plates on the coffee table. It was very romantic, he thought as he watched her sip the wine.

  The flames from the fireplace reflected in her amazing eyes, making them glow like sapphires. Her golden hair hung loose around her face, falling onto the top of her shoulders. The red sweater she wore fit just right, as did the soft looking winter-white slacks. Having kicked off her shoes, she now had her legs tucked up under her, a pose that was casual yet a little sultry too. Her expression was pensive. He wondered why.

  “You’re awfully quiet tonight,” he finally said.

  She smiled at him. “I’m just savoring the moment, Daniel. When we have evenings like this, I don’t want to leave…ever.”

  There it was again, that not-too-subtle hint that maybe they should talk about a more permanent arrangement. He felt suddenly uncomfortable, edgy. He wasn’t ready to make that leap yet. So far he’d managed to skirt around the issue by changing the subject. Giving her a key to his place had been his way of making her feel secure about their relationship, yet not taking the drastic step of asking her to move in with him. It had kept her happy for a while, but now their conversations seemed to always include this subject.

  “You’re staying tonight, right?” He poured more wine into her glass then his own.

  She stared into the fire for a moment before answering. “If you want me to.”

  “Of course I want you to.”

  “You want me tonight, but not all the time, is that it?”

  He shifted his position on the pillows. “I just think we need to take it slow, that’s all. We’ve both been hurt before, Brenda. I don’t want to go through that again.”

  “I’m not going to steal your money and run off, Daniel,’ she snapped.

  “I know that. But moving in together is a big step, for both of us.” She’d told him early in their relationship that she’d been burned by a boyfriend who cheated constantly.

  She sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just love you, Daniel.”

  She stared at him, those big eyes full of questions he wasn’t sure he could answer. They’d never used the “L” word before. She’d put it out there now, though. He knew he needed to respond. He put down his wine glass. Standing up, he held out his hand to her and pulled her to her feet. They were standing so close to each other he could feel her breath on his cheek. “I didn’t want to fall in love again. I fought against it. I was afraid of being hurt. But you’ve managed to steal my heart.”

  Brenda molded her slender body to his. When they kissed, he felt the warmth of his feelings for her break through his defenses once again.

  Moments later, in the bedroom, he held her close, savoring the nearness. She smelled of lilacs with just a hint of lemon. Her hair was soft as spun silk. When she broke away, he felt a sudden sense of loss.

  “I’m going to go get the wine. Dessert is in the refrigerator. We’ll eat in bed, like rich, decadent people with all the time in the world.”

  “You’re all the dessert I need,” he said, reaching for her.

  She sidestepped him, tugging hard on his earlobe as she headed for the door. “Hey, I brought chocolate éclairs from Daisy’s Bakery.”

  “You know I can’t resist those.” He smiled at her. She had a pink flush to her cheeks that he found enticing.

  “Then prepare yourself. White wine and éclairs are the perfect foreplay combination.” She winked flirtatiously as she left the room.

  Oh boy, am I ever in trouble now.

  * * * *

  The sound of sirens wailing in the night brought Daniel out of a sound sleep. Also, his cell phone on the bedside table was ringing and someone was banging on his front door.

  “What the…” He sat up rubbing a hand over his face. He got out of bed, looking at the alarm clock. It read 2:36 AM.

  Brenda stirred sleepily beside him. She sat up, looking around as though disoriented. “It’s the phone.” She fumbled for it but missed, causing it to drop to the floor.

  “Someone’s at the door.” He pulled on his jeans then grabbed a T-shirt from a dresser drawer. Stubbing his big toe on his way through the dark living room, he swore under his breath. The siren’s eerie cry was fading in the distance.

  He flung open the door to find Officer Ken Lafferty standing on the porch. “You need to come, Chief. It’s Susan Hatfield. Her house just burned down. She’s on the way to the medical center in critical condition.”

  Chapter Thirty

  On Friday morning, Adelaide stood on the sidewalk in front of what was left of Susan Hatfield’s home. Last night, she’d watched as volunteer firemen tried valiantly to save the beautiful structure to no avail. She’d walked next to the gurney as the EMTs rushed Susan into a waiting ambulance, her face black as coal, an oxygen mask strapped over her nose and mouth. Both of her hands had been wrapped in white gauze. The stench of smoke rose off of her in waves. Blessedly, she’d been unconscious. Her family members had returned to their homes the day before, including her son, Eric, so she’d been alone in the house.

  Now, the intermittent sun did little to warm the snowy scene, since the temperatures hovered around the twenty-degree mark. Adelaide shivered in spite of the eider down coat she wore over a woolen pant suit.

  Ethel joined her. “Any word on how she is doing?” She had her hands stuffed down into the pockets of a gray wool coat.

  “I called a little bit ago. She’s still critical.” Adelaide meandered up the front walk. Large beams lay in the charred remains. Blackened, water-soaked furniture gave the only clue as to where the various rooms had been. The roof had collapsed, bringing everything from the upstairs down below. The remains of a bed lay on top of what was left of the dining room table. Adelaide felt tears form in her eyes.

  Ethel followed her into what had once been the foyer. Over to the side lay the front door, or what was left of it. “What are you doing, Adelaide? It probably isn’t safe to be wandering around in here.”

  Adelaide wended her way through the debris. “I’m looking for clues,” Adelaide said.

  “Clues of what?”

  Fire Chief Tim Hunter had spoken to them briefly as he was helping his men rewind their hoses onto the only fire truck owned by the town. She’d asked him if he had any clue what might have started the fire. He refused to speculate, telling her that someone would be coming out to look around for the cause.

  “I hope they send an arson investigator,” Adelaide said thoughtfully.

  “Arson! Whatever gives you that idea?” Ethel stared at Adelaide.

  “Don’t you find it a little strange that two of the people Jerry confided in about his suspicions are now in the hospital?” Adelaide carefully made her way back onto the sidewalk. Ethel was probably right about it not being safe to wander around in the debris. Besides, she shouldn’t disturb anything until the authorities took a good look at things. The shock on Ethel’s face indicated that her friend hadn’t considered the possibility that Carl’s attack might have been something quite different than a mugging. She didn’t elaborate any further. She couldn’t because she wasn’t quite sure where that idea had come from—she supposed it might have been sniggling around in her brain since Carl’s attack. Now, it was moving to the forefront, in view of what happened to Susan.

  Way too many coincidences to suit me. Jerry is murdered, Douglas is framed, Carl is attacked, and Susan
’s house burns down with her in it. For a town that looks upon the vandalism of some lion statues as a major crime wave, I’d say this is way out of proportion.

  “Isn’t it awful?” Tina Engler said as she approached them.” She shook her head, viewing the devastation. “Is Susan going to be all right?”

  “She’s critical,” Ethel said.

  Tina turned to Ethel. “It must have been pretty scary for you, being right next door,”

  “The firemen sprayed our house to keep it from catching fire,” Ethel replied.

  “Well, I’m headed for the pharmacy to pick up Rudy’s prescription. I hope Susan makes it. I don’t believe for a minute she conspired with Reverend Underwood to kill Jerry. The whole idea is ridiculous.” Tina turned to leave.

  Ethel nodded her agreement. “I need to run along also. I have to go by the city building before I go to the hospital. That light in the alley behind our house is out. Phone calls to the powers that be about problems such as that just don’t seem to get any results so I decided to show up in person. They can’t put me on indefinite hold if I’m standing right there.”

  Adelaide lingered after the two women were gone. Once they were out of sight, she cut through the Hatfield’s yard into the short alley connecting Buckeye and Mulberry Streets. The only streetlight was at the midway point between the Hatfield’s and Henshaw’s homes. She trudged through the snow, stopping below the tall vapor light. Looking up she saw the problem—the bulb was broken. Embedded in the snow near where she stood were several shards of glass. She dug her cell phone from her purse, calling Ethel, who answered right away. “I was just wondering how long that light in your alley has been out.”

  “I’m at the city building now, reporting it. I noticed it was out last night during the fire. I know it was okay the night before because when I took out some trash it was on. Why do you ask?”