“Good luck with baby Alfie,” I told the young couple. “Do you need me to stay?”
“My parents are in the other room,” Dara said. “They’ll stay with us. Please keep in mind they were forced into helping with this scheme. It wasn’t their idea and they tried to talk us out of it, but Mitch and I had to do what we did for our baby boy. Eve is a victim, too. She found out she had a brother and that her nephew was dying all at the same time. Alfie was so sick and we had to take action. I’m sorry for any pain we caused.”
“No judgment from this quarter,” I said, and meant it. “Coleman will sort it all out. I know Cece isn’t pressing charges. She wants to get to know you, Mitch, and your family. You’re her blood.”
“I wish I’d known her.” Mitch was rueful. “If I had believed she would accept me as family, I would have done things differently. I would never have listened to Carla. All my life I’ve been shut out of knowing what it’s like to have blood.”
“Where were you raised?” I asked.
“Here and there. I was adopted as an infant and stayed with the Peterson family until I was fifteen. They were good people, and I took their name. They were kind. But Helena got sick and when she died, Britt just lost his will to continue. They were older, and he had a heart attack. I went back in the system but I was in high school, not the cute infant or toddler that everyone wants. I was lost and angry and I made a lot of mistakes. I came back to Fortis Landing and started work on the cotton gin. Then I met Dara and her family.”
People were capable of overcoming many, many hardships and experiences. We all wore our scars—or hid them. “We’ll get this sorted. Now I’m going home to sleep.” I’d been up for nearly twenty-six hours.
Coleman was waiting for me in the hall, and I joined him, taking his hand and walking beside him into the sunshine and the snow. My whole world was new and fresh and white. The snow was another Christmas miracle.
“You know I followed your footsteps in the snow to the drop site,” Coleman said. “I think about that and how remarkable it is. Snow in Sunflower County.”
“I know.” I got in the patrol car and left the Roadster in the hospital parking lot, beside Tinkie’s caddy. Oscar had driven her home.
“How was the Christmas pageant?” I asked. “I’m sorry I had to miss it.”
“Well, Mrs. Hedgepeth was perhaps an unwise choice to play the mother of Jesus.”
“What happened?” The hint of gossip perked me up instantly.
“Instead of saying her lines, she went on a tear and listed all of the things that everyone in Zinnia does that make her angry. Your name came up, about a dozen times.”
I laughed in the bright sunshine and crisp air. It was wonderful to laugh. “I’ll bet it was funny.”
“Not to Margaret Welford, who’d worked so hard on the pageant. And Thomas Terrell, who’d written the whole script. They were very upset that Mrs. Hedgepeth had rolled over their entire production just to have her moment of ranting glory.” He chuckled as he drove toward Dahlia House. “It was quite a dramatic moment. They had padded Mrs. Hedgepeth’s costume to indicate her large pregnancy. When she started on her rant, the padding slipped down a little so she just reached up under her skirt and pulled out that horrible baby doll she insisted had to be Jesus. Mrs. Hart and Mrs. Ninny both screamed and fell backwards. Doc thought they’d had heart attacks and he went to tend to them. Thank goodness they were just swooning from the shock of that delivery.”
I couldn’t help it. I was laughing out loud. “I’m so sorry I missed this!”
“Then when Mrs. Hedgepeth threw the baby into the audience, well, there was a stampede toward the church door.”
“What did you do?”
“Oscar, Harold, and I were hiding behind the choir seats waiting for our cue to come on the scene with our gifts, but once Mrs. Hedgepeth sent the baby Jesus flying into the audience, all bets were off. Neely McDuff had fallen asleep during the service and when that ugly little baby slapped him upside the head, he started screaming and stood up and fell over backwards onto Eunice Dudley. He inadvertently groped Eunice, and she slapped him so hard his glasses flew down the aisle. In the stampede the glasses were broken, and so was Mr. McDuff’s arm when Eunice dumped him off her lap.”
I tried hard to suppress my mirth, but it was useless. The laughter ripped out of me and I laughed until I cried. “I can’t believe I missed all of this.”
“You missed a show, but it was videotaped by many.”
“Last year, after those bad boys wrecked it with the pig running through the manger scene and the llamas spitting on everyone, I thought it would be a calm production. Indoors and with only adults participating. Looks like there were several miscalculations.”
“Mrs. Hedgepeth was a surprise. Who knew she’d grandstand and go so off script?”
“She is filled with spleen. It has to come out somewhere.” But I was laughing still. Mrs. Hedgepeth was way down my list of things to worry about. “Thank you for arriving on time, Coleman.”
“I’m glad you called me. It’s important to know that you trust my judgment.”
“Always. I was caught by a promise to Cece.”
“I get it.” He pulled me close up against him. “And now we’re almost home.”
We turned down the drive to Dahlia House and my three horses, blanketed against the cold, met us at the corner of the pasture and raced the car toward the house. They bucked and snorted in the pristine snow that covered the world, hiding all the familiar and ugly flaws. The world was new and fresh and pure.
“I guess DeWayne blanketed the horses again.”
“And fed them.”
“I need to put him on my payroll.”
“Naw, just invite him to ride. He used to as a teen, but he’s fallen out of the habit.”
“I’d love for him to ride.” The suggestion made me smile. Horses were another great way to share good times. “We’ll get a group together and maybe ride through one of the state forests. A camping trip in the spring.”
“Perfect.” Coleman kissed the top of my head just as Dahlia House came into sight.
The cedar and magnolia garlands draped the front porch, interspersed with large red ribbons. The multi-colored hues of an old-fashioned Christmas came from the front parlor window where someone had plugged in the Christmas tree to welcome us home. With the snow on the ground, it was a picture-perfect moment.
“I wouldn’t want to share this with anyone else,” I said to Coleman.
“It’s like the homecoming I always dreamed of as a kid.”
“It would seem,” I said as I knelt on the front seat, “that our Christmas dreams have collided.” When he parked and turned the car off, I laid a kiss on him that started an instant fire. I’d been tired enough to sleep standing up, but suddenly I was wide awake and hungry for Coleman’s touch.
I pulled him into the house, past the Christmas tree and up the stairs to my bedroom.
“What about opening presents?” he asked, pretending to be reluctant.
I arched one eyebrow at him. “You’d rather open presents?”
“Later is good.” He grabbed me and tossed me onto the bed. “Now let’s get down to some serious Christmas celebrating.”
* * *
I woke up after the sun had set. Coleman and Sweetie Pie snored softly in a kind of tender harmony. Pluto watched me with his green, green gaze.
I slipped out of bed and went downstairs where the Christmas tree still glowed red, blue, green, and yellow. I stood for a moment and simply drank in the sight. It was good that Jitty had prompted me to put it up and that Coleman and my friends had helped decorate it for me. Christmas Day was gone, but there was still plenty of time to open presents. I suspected that Cece and Jaytee and Tinkie and Oscar were all in bed, too. A night out in the cold and snow had taken the sap out of us. We’d have our celebration later in the week.
I went to the kitchen and poured a glass of water, taking a long slow drink and s
avoring the simple pleasure of quenching my thirst. So many people were without clean water that flowed out of a tap with the twist of a wrist. For all the things I’d lost, I was a lucky woman.
The strains of The Nutcracker came to me and I stepped back into the parlor to see the Sugar Plum Fairy dancing around the entire first floor of Dahlia House. Her elegance stunned me, and the beautiful feathered tutu stood out from her waist and bounced gently with each step she took. I knew that it was Jitty, making one final Christmas appearance, and I didn’t care. I simply enjoyed the spectacle of her dancing and the power of her graceful execution of the dance moves. She was a pleasure to watch, and I loved the music. When she finished and took her bows, I applauded softly so as not to disturb Coleman and the pets. I’d whip up something special for my man to regain his strength to open Christmas presents.
Jitty came to me, her skirt bobbing and her hair so perfectly coiffed I was reminded of photographs of Josephine Baker. “You’re something else, Jitty. I kind of hate to see this Nutcracker business come to an end.”
“You got the message at last. I can move on.”
“The message?”
She gave me a peeved look. “Your mama and daddy went to great lengths—Girl, you are a devil.”
“I got the message,” I admitted.
“Then my work here is done. Until next time.”
There was the jingle of Christmas bells as Jitty disappeared in a whirl of snowflakes that dissipated in midair. I walked to the window and looked out on the front porch surrounded by pastures and the long drive between the leafless sycamores. Snow covered the ground. It was the perfect morning for a brisk ride. I had boots for the horses to prevent ice from lodging in their feet and brand-new riding boots for my man. It was time to rouse the sleeping Coleman and the pets and enjoy the sunshine and the magical winter day. After all, I’d gotten the message. Magic, especially at Christmastime, was real. And miracles do happen.
ALSO BY CAROLYN HAINES
SARAH BOOTH DELANEY MYSTERIES
Charmed Bones
Sticks and Bones
Rock-a-Bye Bones
Bone to Be Wild
Booty Bones
Smarty Bones
Bonefire of the Vanities
Bones of a Feather
Bone Appetit
Greedy Bones
Wishbones
Ham Bones
Bones to Pick
Hallowed Bones
Crossed Bones
Splintered Bones
Buried Bones
Them Bones
NOVELS
The Specter of Seduction
The House of Memory
The Book of Beloved
Familiar Trouble
Revenant
Fever Moon
Penumbra
Judas Burning
Touched
Summer of the Redeemers
Summer of Fear
NONFICTION
My Mother’s Witness: The Peggy Morgan Story
AS R. B. CHESTERTON
The Darkling
The Seeker
About the Author
CAROLYN HAINES is the USA Today bestselling author of the Sarah Booth Delaney Mysteries, the Pluto’s Snitch historical mystery series, and Trouble the Black Cat Detective mystery series. She is the recipient of both the Harper Lee Distinguished Writing Award and the Richard Wright Award for Literary Excellence, and was recently honored with the Lifetime Achievement Award from the Mississippi Writers Guild. Born and raised in Mississippi, she now lives in Semmes, Alabama, on a farm with more dogs, cats, and horses than she can possibly keep track of. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Also by Carolyn Haines
About the Author
Copyright
This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
A GIFT OF BONES. Copyright © 2018 by Carolyn Haines. All rights reserved. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
www.minotaurbooks.com
Cover design by David Baldeosingh Rotstein
Cover illustration by Hiro Kimura
The Library of Congress has cataloged the print edition as follows:
Names: Haines, Carolyn, author.
Title: A gift of bones / Carolyn Haines.
Description: First edition. | New York: Minotaur Books, 2018.
Identifiers: LCCN 2018025704 | ISBN 9781250193629 (hardcover) | ISBN 9781250193643 (ebook)
Subjects: LCSH: Delaney, Sarah Booth (Fictitious character)—Fiction. | Women private investigators—Mississippi—Fiction. | GSAFD: Mystery fiction.
Classification: LCC PS3558.A329 G54 2018 | DDC 813/.54—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2018025704
eISBN 9781250193643
Our ebooks may be purchased in bulk for promotional, educational, or business use. Please contact the Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department at 1-800-221-7945, extension 5442, or by email at [email protected].
First Edition: October 2018
A Gift of Bones--A Sarah Booth Delaney Mystery Page 21