The Battered Body (4 page)

After Willow scurried away, James marched to the rear of the Bronco, opened the door with an angry jerk, and blocked Paulette’s exit from his truck. “Ms. Martine, your sister is about to marry my father and for that reason, and that reason alone, I’m going to be as cordial to you as possible, no matter how you act in return. However, people in this part of the country are polite to one another as a rule, and no one’s going to be willing to accept the kind of treatment your assistant does.”

Paulette smiled a slow, deliberate smile. “But that’s exactly why I employ Willow.
She’ll
put up with anything, especially since I caught her …” She trailed off, straightened the fox head on her shoulder, and then said, “I’m weary, so
do
excuse me …” And without a thank-you or goodbye, the Diva of Dough strode into the inn as though she were the Queen of England.

From the safety of his Bronco, James frowned as he watched her walk away. It was going to be a long two weeks with Paulette Martine in residence only a few scant miles down the road from the Henry home. Sighing over the certain loss of the harmonious existence he had enjoyed prior to the disappearance of Glowstar, the news of Murphy’s book release, and the arrival of the Diva of Dough, he turned the key in the ignition. As the Bronco eased back down the driveway, James glanced at the sky, which was thick with heavy pewter-colored clouds. The bank of clouds seemed to close in around the surrounding mountains and James was seized by an uneasy, claustrophobic feeling.

“Pop was right. It
is
going to snow. This sky does not bode well for the Christmas Cavalcade tonight,” he murmured to himself as he headed north toward home.

But if it snows really hard
, he thought with a sudden surge of hopefulness,
Paulette might be forced to stay inside the inn for a few days.

“In that case,” he said with a sympathetic chuckle, “God help those innkeepers.”

At five o’clock
that same Saturday, the supper club members gathered on the front porch of Gillian’s house. Every one of them was bundled up beneath layers of shirts, sweaters, and outerwear. An unpleasant wind had developed over the course of the afternoon, which seemed intent on forcing goose bumps to erupt on the back of everyone’s neck.

“This is the bad part about living between two mountain chains,” James said with a shiver. “The wind just attacks you.”

“I know. My lips are peeling off like pieces of old wallpaper. Still, I do hope we get some snow!” Lindy Perez, the cheerful high school art teacher, declared. “Everything’s so beautiful when it’s covered by a fresh layer of pure white.” She stretched her short arms out in front of her. “Reminds me of the feeling I get whenever I stare at a new canvas or a block of fresh clay. I get all tingly all over just thinking about the possibilities.”

Gillian opened the front door of her large Victorian house and emerged onto the porch carrying a silver-plate tray loaded with a teapot and five pottery mugs. “Oh, it’s so dark already. The winter solstice is almost upon us, so I’ve made us some soul-warming herbal tea,” she announced, setting the heavy tray down on one of the wicker side tables. “Gather around and inhale this fragrance. While you sip, be grateful that we’re not looking at the winter as the
famine
months as our ancestors would have done.”

“When it comes to your teas, I might prefer goin’ without.” Bennett took the top off the teapot and sniffed. “Lord help us! What are you tryin’ to sneak down our throats, woman? Fresh mulch tea? Ugh!” He grunted as Gillian lifted the teapot and placed it directly beneath his nose. “This stuff smells like my backyard.”

“Excellent olfactory observation. I am
so
proud of you for activating your other senses!” Gillian replied. “This is pine needle tea. It’s very high in vitamin C and helps relieve congestion.
You
sound a bit stuffed up to me, Bennett. If you lack the confidence to experiment with a new taste, then I’ll give you some leaves to take home. You can take a
nice
pine needle tea bath and all your aching joints will be soothed. Isn’t nature
incredible
?”

“How’d you know my joints were sore?” Bennett looked at Gillian in surprise.

“You know how intuitive I am,” Gillian stated. “When I was in my mid-twenties, I took yoga classes from a very spiritual woman. She told me that I was deeply in tune with my inner—”

“I brought something to warm us up too,” Lucy interrupted, gesturing at a large metal thermos resting on the porch floor. “Hot buttered rum. It’s a recipe my folks have used for years to make it through the cavalcade without turning into human ice sculptures. It’ll send a shot of heat right down your gullet and straight to your toes.”

“Now that’s more like it. Hit me with a cup of
that
brew.” Bennett pointed at the thermos. “Look there! I think our first vehicle is comin’ down the road.”

The five friends moved to the edge of Gillian’s porch and cheered at the sight of a Shenandoah County recycling truck.

The Christmas Cavalcade was established fifteen years prior in order to encourage hometown pride. Each of the Quincy’s Gap municipal departments decorated a vehicle of their choice with Christmas lights, garlands, ornaments, plastic statues, stuffed animals, and anything else they felt would spread holiday cheer. Members of each department hung out windows, sat inside trunks, or perched on top of the roof of their cars, trucks, vans, or buses in order to distribute goodies to the multitude of children who flocked to Quincy’s Gap in hopes of filling paper lunch bags with free holiday treats.

Gillian’s house was perfectly situated for viewing the cavalcade. She lived in the heart of the downtown historic area, and all the parade vehicles would begin their journey at the old courthouse, which was two blocks north of her three-story, pink and green home.

As usual, dozens of bystanders had set up folding chairs and portable heaters on the sidewalk in front of the house, for Gillian had always been gracious about allowing the spectators the use of both her lawn and her bathroom. One year, she had even baked Christmas cookies for the cavalcade observers, but most of her organic, gluten-free goodies had found their way into the storm drain at the corner. Out of kindness, one woman had told Gillian that the children got enough treats during the event and didn’t need any more sugar.

“We don’t want ’em to be spoiled,” she had said tactfully. “You don’t need to bake them anything when they’re gettin’ all this candy already. But thank you so much for bein’ so kind.”

Gillian restricted her cookie making to an even dozen, which she now shared among her friends. They all hated the cookies, but were unwilling to offend their hostess by leaving them uneaten. This year, however, James had a plan in place in order to avoid having to chew on a baked good that tasted remarkably like chalk. He took two cookies from Gillian’s multicultural holiday platter, which showed a rainbow of children’s faces around the border and a dove carrying a holly branch in the center, and stuffed them into a snack-sized plastic bag that he had placed in his coat pocket earlier that evening.

James thought that he had slipped the cookies into his jacket undetected, but Lucy sidled up to him and said, “Smooth move. Got room for mine?” She unfolded her fist in order to reveal a pair of crumbling cookies resembling a blend of Milkbone biscuits and cow dung.

“Sure. Come closer and drop them into my pocket. I’ll throw them out at home later on.”

“Like I said. Smooth move. This is just your way of getting me near you,” Lucy teased. “But I’m glad you came prepared. You ever heard the term ‘meadow muffins’? That’s what Gillian’s cookies taste like.”

James laughed and then, as Lucy placed her hand in his coat pocket, grew serious. “Actually,” he whispered, “I did want to talk to you about, ah, the two of us starting over.” He leaned his head closer to hers as the garbage truck roared in front of the house. “I’d like to take you out on a date. Not like the dates we had before, ah, before …” he trailed off.

“Before I got crazy obsessed with Sullie and drove you into the arms of Murphy Alistair?” Lucy asked, her cornflower blue eyes glinting.

“Exactly.” James exhaled. “I know we’ve been taking it slow—that we’ve been working our way into trusting one another, et cetera. But I’m ready, Lucy, and I want to prove it to you.” He turned to her, blocking her view of the green pickup truck from the Shenandoah Parks Department, which carried an enormous fir tree decorated with garlands of red berries and strings of glowing pinecones.

“That’s wonderful to hear, James.” There was a smile in Lucy’s voice. “We should find a way to celebrate, because you
know
that I’ve been ready since this summer!”

“A celebration.” James repeated the word, reveling in the positive images it evoked. “That’s exactly what I want to talk to you about. I’d like to do something especially romantic. Not a simple dinner and a movie or watching TV at your house like we used to do. Something memorable, so that we’ll always remember how we began our fresh start.” He lowered his voice even further. “Lucy, I’d really like to take you on—”

“Hey!” Gillian exclaimed and poked James in the back. “They’re throwing seedlings strapped to teddy bears! I didn’t get one last year and I
so
wanted to plant a tree near the corner of my front porch.” She set down her teacup and, seeing that James didn’t share her enthusiasm, grabbed Bennett’s arm instead. “
Please
, Bennett, can you catch me one? Hurry!” When Bennett nodded his agreement, she yelled, “The truck is going to pass us by!”

James turned away from Lucy in order to watch his friend sprint down the sidewalk as quickly as he could in a pair of heavy black boots. He shoved his way through the crowd and chased after the departing pickup, determined to get the attention of one of the men riding in the pickup’s bed.

“Yo!” Bennett waved his arms and hollered at one of the Parks Department’s employees. “Hit me with a teddy bear, man! The lady in the pink house has gotta have one!”

A brown Smoky the Bear was hurtled through space too far to Bennett’s right. James watched as Bennett dove for the bear, stretching out his arms as far as he could. Unfortunately, he landed with a thud on the cold asphalt and the bear fell onto the sidewalk several feet away. The crowd cheered at Bennett as he leapt to his feet and shoved the plush animal inside his parka.

“Woman!” Bennett growled, stomping onto the porch and presenting Gillian with her prize. “Gimme a little more notice next time you want me to beat my way through a crowd of women and kids and try to catch somethin’ that my grandma could have thrown with better aim.”

“You’re my
hero
!” Gillian hugged Bennett and then pointed at the bear. “Look! There’s a blue spruce sapling tied to this Smoky. I can plant it and we can all sit out here, spring after spring, sipping on a lovely cup of vanilla lavender tea, and watch it stretch its branches skyward.”

“Who is ‘all of us’?” Bennett scowled. “Does your
boyfriend
like vanilla lavender tea?” He made a big show of dusting off his coat sleeve, his pride clearly wounded as a result of making a dramatic but ineffective diving catch in front of his closest friends and about two hundred parade bystanders.

“As a matter of fact,
Detective
Harding does like tea,” Gillian replied smugly. “He’s very
open
to new experiences.” She refilled her cup. “And he’s
not
my boyfriend. We haven’t pigeonholed our relationship by trying to
define
it using conventional terms. We’re merely enjoying one another’s company by living in the
now
.”

“I’m surprised he has time to drink tea,” Bennett persisted. “
Sheriff
Jones tells me that she’s keeping him pretty busy.”

Gillian frowned. “I don’t think the detective is kept occupied by your
girlfriend’s
insistence, but because he’s passionately devoted to protecting the good citizens of Abington County.”

Bennett poured himself another tumbler of hot buttered rum. “Ms. Jade Jones is
not
my girlfriend. She and I … we’re …” He pulled at his toothbrush mustache and intently searched his mind for the correct term.

Lindy held out her hands. “Enough! You two can tease one another about the romantic partners you collected at the Hudsonville barbecue festival this summer all you want
after
the cavalcade is over, okay? Besides, all this talk about boyfriends and girlfriends makes me miss Luis.”

“Where is the dashing Principal of Blue Ridge High again?” James inquired.

“He went to Mexico because his mama’s really sick,” Lindy answered sadly. “He’s her only son and he’s devoted to her. I hope she gets better soon, because I really miss him. He’s promised to bring our relationship out into the open at school. I can’t wait to see the looks on certain fellow teachers’ faces when they realize he’s now off the market.” She drained her glass and looked at the empty contents with a smirk. “Lucy, can you pour me another? These rum things are so delicious that I can almost forget about Luis bein’ gone and that my feet are too numb to be cold.” She smiled crookedly and touched the tip of her nose. “Shoot. I’m not cold anywhere. I’m feelin’ good
all
over! How much rum is in here, Lucy?”