Body Bags & Blarney (4 page)

Joshua stood up from his
seat. “Pastor, I am going to have to ask you to follow the rules for this
meeting.”

“Ah, Deputy Arkins. How
nice to see you again.” Seamus smiled. “You of all people should be keenly
aware of the rise in crime that has happened in just a short span of time here
in town.”

Joshua folded his arms
across his chest. “Sir, again I must ask for your cooperation tonight.”

Seamus held his Bible high
in the air. “The Lord Almighty compels me to speak out against this tide of
evil that is sweeping into Cayuga Cove and I must do as He commands. Our town
is being attacked from within. When we turn our hearts and minds away from the
Lord, that’s when Satan makes his move.”

The crowd began to murmur
amongst each other as Father William picked up the small gavel used for public
meetings and rapped it gently. “Please, I must call for order to this meeting.
We are here to setup the planning board for the Saint Patrick’s Day
festivities.”

Joshua excused himself around
several seated patrons in his row and stepped into the aisle facing Pastor
Kilpatrick. “Sir, you are causing a public disturbance and I must ask you to
vacate this meeting immediately.”

Seamus glared at him in
defiance. “We have thrown God out of our schools and public places and now we
are suffering the punishment for such blasphemy. Sanctioning a parade to the
glorification of drinking alcohol and all the lewd behavior that goes along
with it is one step too far and I will not go quietly into the night without a
fight for the moral fiber of this town’s collective soul.”

Joshua stepped forward and
put his arm around Pastor Kilpatrick’s shoulder. “I’m asking you to work with
me here. Save us both the trouble of having this evolve into an incident.”

“You see? Deputy Arkins
wants to save me the trouble of causing an incident.” Seamus addressed the
startled crowd. He gazed with wild eyes at the Bible in his hands and then
raised his voice up a notch in volume. “Matthew 26:41, ‘
watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed
is willing, but the flesh is weak’.” With a dramatic flourish, he took the Bible
and placed it over his heart. “I will not abandon this town to the devil. I
answer to an authority much higher than Sheriff Rigsbee.”

“You could be
answering to charges of disorderly conduct if you don’t stop this immediately.”
Joshua reached gently for Seamus’ arms and pulled them down to his side. “We
can do this the easy way or the hard way. Your choice.”

The bald man
who had helped Harriet earlier with the microphone came to Seamus’ aid. “I hear
you, preacher. I too feel a darkness around us and agree we must cast it out. I
stand beside you.”

Seamus reached
out and grabbed the man’s hand. “You see? The righteous will always have the
upper hand in this battle. Who else will stand with us?”

“Unhand him.”
The bald man shouted at Joshua. “He is free to speak his mind.”

“He’s causing
a disruption to this meeting. If you don’t back away, I’ll arrest you both.”
Joshua warned.

“We stand together.”
The bald man remained defiant.

“Cast me out.”
Seamus challenged with the crowd. “Turn your backs on the Lord and see what
misfortune will befall you all.” He tried to free himself from Joshua’s grip
but failed. “I have been sent as a messenger to save you all.” He stepped
backward and fell into the bald man. Like a pair of bowling pins, they both
tumbled to the ground, skulls smacking hard against the floor. Seamus entire
body went rigid as the Bible tumbled out of his grip.

There were
several gasps from the crowd as Joshua knelt down to feel for a pulse. “He’s
not breathing. Someone call the paramedics.” He then began administering CPR.

A young woman
in medical scrubs rushed out of the crowd and attended to the bald man who was
also unresponsive. “I’m a nurse, let me through.” She pushed her way past the
gawkers and placed her fingers on his neck. “He’s got a pulse.”

The reporter
from the Cayuga Tribune jumped forward and began snapping several photographs
of the incident in progress.

Eunice Kilpatrick
suddenly leapt through the entrance doors. She surveyed the scene for a moment
and then lunged at Joshua. “Get your hands off my brother.” She swung her purse
and smacked Joshua against the head with it.

Vivienne and
Kathy both jumped to their feet and rushed forward as the crowd began to rise
from their seats in confusion as to what was happening.

“Ma’am, I need
you to step away right now.” Joshua yelled loudly at her, struggling to control
the situation. “Your brother may have suffered a traumatic head injury.” He
felt for a pulse once more and then relief washed over his face. “He’s got a
pulse.”

“How dare you
treat a man of God this way, Deputy Arkins.” She yelled back. “What did you do
to him?” She prepared to swing her purse at him once more.

Vivienne raced
forward and grabbed Eunice’s arm before she could do so. “Stop this right now.
Deputy Arkins just saved his life.”

Eunice whirled
around angrily. “Get your hands off me, Vivienne Finch.” She burst into tears.
“My baby brother needs me.”

Harriet Nettles
raced over from the front desk of the library as the patrons spilled out of the
meeting room. “I’ve called the police.” She tried to yell over the commotion.

The front
doors to the library were yanked open as two police officers rushed inside.

“Thank God
you’re here.” Harriet pointed to where Joshua was attending to Seamus on the
floor. “There’s been some sort of medical emergency.”

The officers
raced into the room, pushing their way through the crowd that had encircled
Joshua, Seamus, and the bald man.

Seamus eyes
fluttered and he bolted upright with a frenzied gasp for air. “I am your
servant.” He cried out. “I will do as you ask.”

“Are you
okay?” Eunice broke free from Vivienne’s grip and rushed over to her brother.
“Did he hurt you?”

Seamus took another
deep breath before answering her. “I have been healed.”

Joshua
remained in his professional responder mode. “Are you in any pain?”

Seamus shook
his head. “No. I was just healed by God himself.”

“This man is unconscious,
but breathing.” The young woman in scrubs spoke quietly.

Seamus looked
over at the bald man. “My brother, you have fought the good fight and will be
rewarded.”

There was more
commotion as the paramedics arrived on the scene. They pushed their way through
the crowd with a gurney in tow. “Please back away and give us room to work.”
They ordered.

The two
officers began to push the crowd back so the paramedics could render aid.

The taller of
the two paramedics, a stocky man with blue eyes, approached Seamus. “Are you
feeling light headed or dizzy?”

Seamus shook
his head. “No. I am completely healed now.” He jumped to his feet as some
members of the crowd gasped.

The shorter
paramedic took over for the young woman in scrubs. “I’ve got it from here.”

“Thank you.”
She replied meekly.

The taller
paramedic rushed over to Seamus with concern. “Sir, you shouldn’t make any
sudden movements like that until you have been checked by a physician.”

“I am fine,
gentlemen. Better than fine. Wonderful, actually.” Seamus smiled.

Joshua got up
from the floor. “He didn’t have a pulse and I administered CPR.”

The taller
paramedic nodded back. “Are you absolutely certain there was no pulse?”

“Yes.” Joshua
responded. “There’s no way I missed it.”

The shorter
paramedic, a young man who looked to be all of twenty-one years old, approached
Seamus. “The other man is non-responsive, but breathing on his own. We should
get them both to Cayuga Memorial right away.”

“Do what you
must.” Seamus replied calmly. “But you are not strapping me down on that
gurney. I will walk.” He frantically scanned the floor. “Where is my Bible?”

“That’s fine.”
The taller paramedic agreed and helped his partner load the bald man onto a
gurney. They wheeled him out of the library meeting room.

“I found it,
brother.” Eunice pointed to a folding chair where the Bible had slid
underneath.

Seamus was
escorted by the two officers out of the meeting hall. Eunice Kilpatrick, who
grabbed her brother’s Bible off the floor, left without saying another word to
anyone. They disappeared through the main library doors, where the flashing
blue and red emergency lights lit up the chilly evening.

“What the hell
was that?” Kathy asked Vivienne.

“I wish I
knew.” Vivienne replied as she walked over to Joshua. “Are you hurt?”

He shook his
head. “Man, she must have fifty pounds of junk in that purse of hers.”

“It’s probably
loose change she’s pilfered from the bank.” Kathy mused. “Are you going to
charge her with assaulting an officer of the law?”

“No.” Joshua
grimaced. “She was caught up in the craziness of the moment. People react in
strange ways to sudden shock.”

“That’s more
kindness than she deserves.” Kathy added.

Vivienne
reached up and fixed a few stray locks of hair that had fallen across Joshua’s
face during the scuffle. “Aren’t you glad you came tonight?”

He gave her a
little smile. “I need to go down to the station and give them the full story of
what just happened here.”

“I know.”
Vivienne nodded back. “Do you need us to come with you as witnesses?”

“No, I’ll be
fine.” Joshua replied.

Father William
had made his way over to them and patted Joshua on the back. “Deputy Arkins, I
am so thankful that you were here tonight.”

“No need to
thank me, Father William. I’m just preserving the peace.”

“I have never seen
such a thing before.” He marveled. “I’m just speechless.”

“Public
disorder often has violent consequences.” Joshua replied. “I hope it didn’t
cost a man his life tonight.”

“I will be
saying prayers for that poor man.” Father William confessed.

“I’m sure he
could use all the prayers he can get.” Joshua pressed. “If you’ll excuse me, I
need to get down to the Sheriff’s office.”

“Of course.”
Father William smiled back.

“Father
William.” The reporter who had taken a series of photographs during the incident
stepped forward. “Scott Jenkins, I work for the Cayuga Tribune. I have some
information you might find interesting regarding Seamus Kilpatrick.”

The reporter
stepped aside with Father William as Vivienne and Kathy followed Joshua toward
the exit. “So much for planning the Luck of the Irish carnival.” Vivienne
commented.

“Well, we can
still go to the store and plan my party.” Kathy offered.

“Yes, we may
as well.” Vivienne looked back at the crowd of meeting attendees that were
milling about the library. “Nothing is going to happen here tonight, that’s for
sure.”

“Great.” Kathy
replied enthusiastically and stepped on something that sounded like broken
glass. She looked down at the remnants of a small pendant on the floor, a
simple golden chain that once held some sort of fragile item, now smashed into
bits during the ruckus of the meeting. “Well, this certainly wasn’t one of my
pieces.”

Vivienne
glanced down. “Should we give it to Harriet to put in the lost and found?”

“Vivienne.”
Kathy smirked. “It probably was picked up inside a claw machine. It’s garbage.”

“Well, if it
fell out of a purse some little kid is going to be upset tonight.”

“So the kid’s
mom can fish another quarter out of her purse at the Monarch Grocery and
replace it.” Kathy grabbed Vivienne by the arm. “Let’s get out of here.” She
reached into her purse and pulled out her car keys.

Vivienne
reached down and picked it up from the floor. “I’m going to give it to
Harriet.”

“Fine.” Kathy
grimaced.

On their way
out the door, Vivienne gave the broken necklace to Harriet to place in the lost
and found bin. It was the right thing to do, even if it was garbage like Kathy
said.

Kathy pressed
the unlock button on her key fob as they approached her car. “Well, I think
you’re going to be pleasantly surprised when you see the generous amount I’m
going to offer you to bake some authentic New Orleans king cakes for the
jewelry party.”

“Good.”
Vivienne replied as she opened the passenger door to Kathy’s car. “I could
definitely use a good surprise about now.”

CHAPTER
FOUR

“Sure, that
won’t be a problem. I’ll have the order ready about noon. Thank you again.”
Vivienne hung up the phone and finished writing the new order down. “Stephanie,
I’ve just got an order for a dozen loaves of Irish soda bread for this Friday.
Will you be able to come in about an hour early that day to help me get a head
start?”

Stephanie
Bridgeman, Vivienne’s right hand at the Sweet Dreams Bakery, pulled out her
smartphone and entered a reminder for herself. “Not a problem.”

“Thanks.”
Vivienne scooted over to the countertop computer and entered the order. Using
the new inventory tracking software she had installed after New Year’s, the
software generated a message that she would need to re-order flour in order to
keep it at her safety level. The software was a blessing, as it freed her to
not worry so much about daily inventory and kept shortages of supplies to a
minimum. “I don’t know how we got along without this.” She patted the top of
the computer.

Stephanie was
using a batch of royal icing to frost two trays of butter cookies in the shape
of spring flowers. “I know what you mean. I used to think my friends who had
their phones attached to their hands were crazy but now I have a little panic
attack if I leave the house without it.”

“I suppose you
could say we’re more connected than ever, but it doesn’t feel that way.”
Vivienne finished with the computer and placed the Irish soda bread order for
Dowling Tax & Payroll on the magnetic board under the ‘New Orders’ section.
Patricia Dowling, one of the accountants and owners of the business, was always
a generous contributor to the annual Saint Patrick’s Day celebration. She and
the other family members always paid for the scores of green beads and small
trinkets that the float riders tossed to the crowds lining Main Street during
the parade. Vivienne had kept some of the little trinkets and beads she had
caught over the years in a box that she guessed was stored away somewhere in
her mother’s attic. She made a mental note to go try to find it after work, as
filling her display window with the captured vintage treasures would add a
whimsical note to all the cookies and cakes on display.

Stephanie
grabbed a tray of tulip-shaped cookies she had outlined with a thin frosting
edge earlier in the day. “Tell me about it.” She hovered over the tray and
prepared to flood the cookies with a liquid royal icing that would dry to a
nice enamel-like finish. “A sociology professor at college gave a lecture a few
weeks ago about how technology is actually isolating us more from each other to
the point where actual human contact is almost considered taboo.”

“Really?”
Vivienne was intrigued. She grabbed a small corn broom from behind the counter
and began to sweep the work area floor.

“Think about it.
How many times have you been asked while waiting to speak to an operator on the
phone if you would like to try their online solution center?” Stephanie asked
as she neatly worked the icing from one cookie to the next.

“Quite a bit,
actually.” Vivienne agreed. “You have to navigate through a slew of voice menus
to even get the option to speak to a real person.”

“Exactly. My
professor had us watch an old Twilight Zone episode about a man who slowly
automated his factory until not a single human worker was needed.” Stephanie
recalled as she emptied one bottle of frosting and grabbed another to finish
off the batch of cookies.

“I remember
that one. In the end, the computer ends up telling him he was no longer needed
as he is now obsolete.” Vivienne chuckled. “I guess we never learned the lesson
in that episode.”

“Well, as much
as I love my smartphone, I still try to spend quality time with my friends and
family. A virtual hug can only go so far.”

“I couldn’t
agree more.” Vivienne swept a plethora of sprinkles, flour, sugar, salt, and
other baking ingredients into a little pile on the floor and then grabbed her
dustpan. “Perhaps the human race isn’t doomed to a future of technology-induced
isolation after all?”

Stephanie
finished the tray of tulips and set them aside to dry. “We can only hope.”

“Those look
terrific.” Vivienne beamed with pride at her assistant’s work on the cookies.
“Don’t you wish the real thing were outside? Oh, how I love the smell of spring
flowers in the air.”

“I haven’t
even seen a crocus leaf poking up from the ground yet.” Stephanie commented.
“So you know we’ve got a long wait for some color outside.”
 
She reached into her apron and pulled out a
scrap of paper. “I wanted to show you something.”

Vivienne
emptied the dustpan into a trash bin and shut the lid. “Sure thing. What have
you got?” She hung the broom and dustpan back on its wall rack and pulled a
small antibacterial hand gel from her apron pocket. As she squeezed some on her
hands and rubbed them together, she wandered over to see what Stephanie wanted
to show her.

Stephanie
produced a hand drawn picture of a fleur-de-lis. “I thought this year, just in
time for Mardi Gras, we could use the king cake batter to make petit fours and
decorate them with some images from the carnival season.”

“I like that.”
Vivienne nodded eagerly. “Mardi Gras is next Tuesday, so we need to get moving
on this project.”

“I was
thinking we could create some delicious fillings, like praline and cream
cheese, pineapple and mango, even a French silk chocolate.” Stephanie
continued. “It would give people a little taste of king cake on the go.”

“You just gave
me a great idea.” Vivienne snapped her fingers. “I was just on the phone with
Dowling Tax & Payroll. I bet they could sell me a small box of those parade
trinkets that we could put randomly into some of the petit fours.”

“You think
they would part with a box?” Stephanie asked.

“They have
time to order more before the parade.” Vivienne reasoned. “Anyone that finds
one, will get a twenty-five percent off coupon for their next purchase when
they bring it in.”

“That sounds
great.” Stephanie smiled back. “Just like finding the little baby inside the
king cake.”

Vivienne was
about to speak when the phone rang. “I’ve got it.” Vivienne hopped toward the
counter. “Sweet Dreams Bakery, how may I make your day more delicious?”

Stephanie
walked over to the cake pans and pulled out the full sheet size. She placed her
drawing of the fleur-de-lis on the bottom and began to map out how many she
could get out of each cake batch. Given the fourteen by twenty-two inch
dimensions of the pan, she would easily be able to make fifteen to twenty
double-layered treats.

Vivienne
scribbled another order down onto her notepad. “Yes, I can do the cherry chip
cake with the cream cheese filling. What color scheme would you like for the
flowers?” Vivienne listened for a moment and then scribbled down the selection.
“Sounds perfect. A double layer round cake will be twenty-five dollars. If you
want to add another layer, it would be thirty.” Vivienne smiled at Stephanie as
she awaited the customer to make a decision. She grinned and gave Stephanie the
thumbs up. “Triple layer it is. We’ll see you next Monday at noon.” She hung up
and moved to the computer to put the order in the database.

Stephanie
brought the sheet pan over to the front counter. “I can easily get fifteen or
so out of this. What were you thinking for a price point?”

Vivienne
paused for a moment. “Well, given a single layer of filling, what about four
dollars each?”

“Sixty dollars
a sheet pan. Sounds like a winner to me.” Stephanie commented.

Vivienne put
the new order into the computer system. “I’m going to make a personal visit
over to Dowling Tax & Payroll to see if I can buy a box of trinkets off
them.” She grabbed some wax paper sheets and reached into the display case,
pulling out a half dozen blueberry crumb muffins. “It never hurts to start
negotiations with an offer of delicious baked goods.”

Stephanie
handed her a small box to set the muffins inside of. “If only every business
worked this way.”

“I’d be a
millionaire.” Vivienne chuckled and closed the top of the box. “Wish me luck.”

*
           
*
           
*

As Vivienne
drove her Toyota Matrix along Cobbler Avenue, she was pleased that Patricia had
been more than happy to sell her a box of trinkets for the same wholesale price
they had paid. What she hadn’t expected was still having the box of muffins
next to her on the front passenger seat.

Patricia had
explained that the rest of the staff were attending a business tax seminar up
in Albany and suggested the muffins go to someone who could enjoy them at their
peak freshness.

As she turned
the corner onto the lower part of Lake Shore Drive, her eyes fell upon a large
canvas tent that was being erected on the grounds of the Shoreline Baptist
Church. She could see a rental truck pulled along the curb where several men
were unloading those large outdoor heaters she had seen used to keep people
warm on patios at restaurants during the fall months.

She slowed as
she approached the welcome sign to the church to read the message for the week.
‘Tent Revival Saturday at 7PM: Witness the miracle of His greatness with Pastor
Seamus Kilpatrick.’ Vivienne wanted to pull over and find out more about what
was going on, but she thought better of having another run in with Eunice
Kilpatrick. She didn’t see her anywhere around, but she was certain the moment
she stepped out of the car she would appear to read her the riot act about
Joshua’s actions the night before. It was best to keep on driving to her
destination, which just so happened to be the site of many previous
uncomfortable confrontations: The Nora Finch homestead.

Nora, much to
Vivienne’s surprise, was nothing but hospitable and welcoming to her daughter
during her surprise visit. They shared a coffee and some blueberry muffins in
the kitchen, had a pleasant conversation about Nora’s plans to take a five day
New England coastline cruise with Clara Bunton in July, and most impressive of
all, she had complimented Vivienne’s successful running of her business.

Up in the
attic, Vivienne rubbed her arms together as the cozy heat below failed to make
it up the folding ladder steps. “Where is the light switch again?”

“Keep reaching
up. It’s on one of those long metal cords.” Nora replied from the base of the
ladder which she held tight to. “I always told your father to put a switch down
here on the wall but he never did.”

Vivienne
reached blindly through the dark attic air until her right hand brushed against
a cold metal cord. She gripped it firmly and gave a little tug. The single
sixty-watt bulb blazed to life, illuminating the cob-webbed rafters above her.
“Found it.”

“Good.” Nora
replied. “Now don’t take too long, all the heat is going to bleed right up
there and my electric bill is sky high enough as it is.”

Vivienne
pulled herself up to the floor of the attic and marveled at how small it
actually was. In her childhood memory, it was such a cavernous, dark land full
of places where ghosts and monsters lurked amongst the shadows. But as an
adult, it was simply a cramped storage space with a six foot ceiling,
uncomfortably sloping walls, and the lingering scent of old newspapers and
mothballs.

Truth be told,
there really wasn’t as much in storage in the attic as she had originally
thought. She recalled helping her mother remove some of it to the garage and
basement after her father had died, but she always thought there had been much
more just waiting to be moved. It was a rather pleasant surprise to discover
her memory was wrong.

“I never
trusted this ladder.” Nora pointed out from the safety of the floor below. “I
was always convinced it would break and send me tumbling to my death.”

“Thanks,
Mother.” Vivienne always found it amusing how easily her mother volunteered her
to scale the ladder of death without hesitation.

She pivoted
around and opened the tops of several large cardboard boxes that were not
labeled. Inside one she found a stash of old Christmas lights and outdoor décor
that her father had used to decorate the yard during the holidays. In another,
she discovered a pair of old box fans that they had used to cool their home
with before the central air was installed. Finally, on the third try she saw
some posters rolled up and kept closed with rubber bands. She pulled one out
and went to undo the band when it crumbled with age. She unfurled the poster
and felt her face flush with embarrassment. It was a New Kids on the Block
poster that had hung above her bed when she was a teenager.
 
Their youthful, smiling faces, complete with
bad early nineties fashion, reminded her of just how old she was getting. It
seemed like ages ago that she answered quizzes in teen magazines about which of
the guys she would most likely go on a date with, or even marry. “I think I
found what I was looking for.” Vivienne called down.

“Well, hurry
up and bring it down so we can close the attic up.” Nora replied.