Miz Scarlet and the Holiday Houseguests (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery #3) (13 page)

Read Miz Scarlet and the Holiday Houseguests (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery #3) Online

Authors: Sara M. Barton

Tags: #cozy mystery, #innkeeper, #connecticut state police, #family friendship boston red sox new york yankees mickey mantle

BOOK: Miz Scarlet and the Holiday Houseguests (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery #3)
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Hustling back to the bar, I
grabbed a bottle of club soda and a cotton towel, and ran back.
Dropping to my knees, I doused the spot with a fair amount of
bubbly water and dabbed madly at the blotchy mess. My panic was no
act.
Does vodka leave a stain? What about
vermouth?

Max groaned again, tapping
on the arm of his wheelchair with his fist. I glanced up,
surprised. That’s when I caught him mouthing one word.
Stall.

“Don’t worry,” I said in my best
innkeeper voice. “This will come right out, Bernie. Let me just get
more towels. I’ll be right back.”

“Mind if we help ourselves in the
meantime?” Larry’s companion inquired. He was on his
feet.

“Oh,” I stopped at the doorway. “If you
can wait just a minute, Del, I’ll be happy to fix your drinks. I
won’t be a moment.”

I treated him to a dazzling smile,
pouring on the charm, and even twirled a lock of my hair around my
finger in a twisted display of sexual interest. He gave me a nod
and started to unzip his jacket. As he removed the hood, he
revealed a shaved head. It somehow made him seem even more
menacing. I forced myself to feign attraction as I allowed my gaze
to linger on him. Noticing my interest, he wriggled out of the
sleeves and displayed a set of muscles that seemed to ripple under
the turtleneck shirt he wore. Larry’s thug friend did some serious
workouts.

“Let’s make this a party.
What about some cheese and crackers to go with those drinks?” I
flashed another smile in his direction and received a toothy grin
and a wink from him in return. He was definitely on the prowl
now.
Good Lord, I hope Max and Kenny have a
handle on this, because if things go wrong, I’m in deep
trouble.
“Do you prefer brie or cheddar? I
have both.”

From the corner of my eye, I could
Larry was watching me carefully. She seemed concerned about my
unexpectedly seductive behavior, but when her eyes went to Max a
moment later, he managed to give her a thumbs-up. She suddenly
straightened up, on alert.

“Surprise me,” the creep
grinned.
Not a problem, pal. You’re about
to get your socks knocked off.

“I won’t be long.”

“Hurry back, sexy lady.”

I couldn’t get out of there fast
enough, willing myself not to panic. That hallway never seemed
longer. The kitchen door was shut. Had Kenny done that? As I put my
hand up to push it open, I felt momentary resistance on the other
side. Carefully, cautiously, I pressed it again, and this time it
yielded. Stepping into the room, I came face to face with a
contingent of helmeted SWAT officers, all dressed in battle
camouflage, and a few state troopers in uniform. Kenny must have
let them into the inn through the sun porch. Was that why the dogs
barked?

“You’re doing great, Scarlet,” I was
told in a hushed tone by a short, squat man with gray hair and gray
eyes. “We just need you to do a couple more things for us. Are you
okay with that?”

“Sure,” I agreed. Now that the Four
Acorns Inn was populated by Larry’s law enforcement colleagues, I
was nearly sure I could do just about anything. Everything was
going to work out after all. That nightmare of mine was just a bad
dream.

“Here’s the plan,” whispered the head
of the team. “We need some cover noise, so he doesn’t hear my team
moving into position. Do you have a sound system?”

“Yes.” I nodded. He patted my
shoulder.

“Good, good. I want you to go in with
the cheese platter. Put the music on. It doesn’t much matter what
it is, as long as it’s loud enough. And do you think you can unlock
the French doors? That way, I don’t have to have my guys bust any
of your windows.”

“I appreciate that,” I admitted sotto
voce, thinking of the potential mess and the expensive renovation
costs.

“Whatever you do, don’t let him think
you saw something moving outside, because he’ll probably draw his
weapon.” That ripple of pure fear ran right up my neck like a
chilly finger. “That would put this whole operation in
jeopardy.”

“I...I could shut all the drapes, like
it’s my normal routine at night.”

“Excellent. That way, there’s no chance
he’ll see my people coming. Once you get that door unlocked, fix
those drinks, and then get down on the floor to scrub that rug.
When you get done, excuse yourself. Tell him you want to put the
dirty towels in the laundry. Can you do that?”

“Sure,” I whispered back.

“Don’t rush. Take your time. My team
will move into place. You want to keep the bad guy thinking that
he’s got control of the situation and he’s not in any danger of
losing it. You okay?”

“Yes.” Was I? I wasn’t sure. What if
something went wrong? What if I slipped up?

“Okay. Tell me one more time what
you’re going to do,” he instructed me. I could feel his hot breath
on my ear as he leaned in to listen to me recite the list in a
hushed voice. When I got done, he spoke into his Ear Bone
microphone. “She’s good to go!”

Hands turned me around by the shoulders
and pointed me at the kitchen door. A platter of cheese and
crackers suddenly appeared, courtesy of one of the uniformed
troopers, and I was urged to take it.

“I came in here for towels,” I reminded
the SWAT team member with his hand on my back. Excusing myself as I
snaked through the crowd, I grabbed a couple of towels from the
drawer by the refrigerator and retraced my steps. I took a deep
breath to calm myself, slowly let it out, and pushed open the door
to the hallway. Hoisting the cheese platter in the air with far
greater confidence than I felt, I headed back to the living room.
Just outside the entrance, I forced the corners of my mouth into a
smile and made my grand entrance.

“Here I am at last! Sorry to keep you
waiting,” I announced cheerfully. With a great flourish, I placed
the ceramic tray onto the coffee table and faced my cocktail
guests, encouraging them to dig in. Max was listing to one side in
the wheelchair, occasionally gurgling. Larry was slumped on the
sofa, glaring, first at her captor, and then at me. Del was
lighting a cigarette as he lasciviously leered at me, displaying
tongue. It took all my self-control not to grab that Marlboro out
of his hand, stomp on it, and slap his sleazy mouth. Instead, I
snagged a porcelain bowl as a makeshift ashtray and reminded myself
it was time for a little noise. “Let’s have some party music, to
get us in the mood!”

“Let’s,” Del agreed. “I can go all
night long.”

“Oh, it’s a little chilly in
here. Let me just draw the drapes.” I started at the front windows
and made my way around the living room, going window by window. At
last, standing at the French doors, with one hand grasping the
velvet panel, I maneuvered the latch. Once I was certain the lock
was undone, I grabbed the other panel and pulled it across the
gap
. Del is never going to see this coming.
I hope they hit him so hard and so fast, he doesn’t have time to
react before they take him down and cuff him.

Crossing to the Bose Wave
system on the shelf above the bar, I flipped the switch and the
room suddenly came alive as the sultry voice of Tony Bennett rose
up.
“Have yourself a merry little
Christmas, let your heart be light....”

“What would you like to drink?” I
asked. I stood in front of Larry, who was avoiding eye contact.
“Ms. Rivera?”

“I’m not thirsty,” she replied
sullenly, refusing to look at me.

“Party pooper,” scoffed the man beside
her. “I’ll have a screwdriver.”

It was impossible to ignore the fact
that he lingered over the word “screw”, giving it special meaning
by his pronunciation. He sure was a cocky bastard, overly confident
and driven by his hormones.

“Oh, I’ll need orange juice for that,
Del. Let me just mop this carpet and I’ll be right
back.”

I bent over the spill by Max’s feet, my
hands blotting the rug. With my back to Del, I gave Max the okay
gesture and got an almost imperceptible nod in return. Wet towels
in hand, I got up off my knees and waved them in the air. “I’ll be
back in a jiffy.”

“Hurry back,” grinned
Larry’s companion, flicking his ashes on the carpet.
Cretin.

“I will,” I promised, hoping
the SWAT team wouldn’t storm the room until the cigarette was
safely extinguished.
How silly of me to
think of that at a time like this. I must be in denial.

I rushed out, expecting to head back to
the safety of the kitchen. The last thing I expected was to be
yanked into the library by a pair of strong hands. The moment I was
inside, the door shut again. I found myself pushed through a maze
of wall-to-wall law enforcement. A team huddled around the computer
desk, watching the live action in the living room, thanks to
Kenny’s quick thinking. The tiny camera he placed on the mantle,
tucked into the greenery, was giving the cops a bird’s eye view of
Del, Larry, and Max. There were people checking maps and
coordinating activities on their tablets and Smartphones. One of
them perched his foot on an antique library stand, scrolling on his
screen. I wanted to scream, “Get that boot off the furniture!”, but
it seemed petty considering what was going on. For a moment, I felt
like I was suffocating. How could I breathe with so many people in
the same room with me? Was I having a panic attack? Or was the
shock of all this danger and intrigue finally hitting
me?

“Let’s go,” whispered a man behind me.
He looked like all the other khaki-clad team members, save for a
fringe of blonde hair showing under his helmet.

“Go?”

“You can’t stay here. You’re a
civilian.”

The cold night air hit me
like a slap in the face, shocking me back to reality. The SWAT team
was about to storm the living room. Someone could get
killed
. Please don’t let it be Larry or
Max...or the cops. This is Christmas, a time of joy. We buy toys
for little tots and we give winter coats to people who are cold. We
don’t go shooting up the Four Acorn Inn, God, I am so grateful that
Jenny is with her grandparents in California.

I was whisked away, to a dark truck
that was parked down the street. Much to my relief, Laurel and
Lacey were there, chatting with a female trooper who was manning a
computer console.

“Sit,” said the dark-haired woman to
me, pointing to a bench seat. I slid into place. “The show’s about
to start.”

One minute, her computer screen showed
the scene in the living room as Max, Larry, and Del awaited my
return. The next, it went black.

“What the hell?” I heard Del utter.
“Why did the lights go out?”

“I think we lost power. It must be the
storm,” Larry replied calmly, just before chaos erupted and the
living room became an unexpected war zone.

Pop! Pop-pop! Pop-pop-pop!
Pop!
Like fireworks on the Fourth of July,
the stun grenades went off, one right after the other, in a
deafening cacophony. When the lights came on, there was a
camouflage-clad scrum on top of Del, who was now hog-tied and
screaming like a stuck pig in plastic cable cuffs. It was over in
less than thirty seconds, a stunning display of law enforcement
finesse.

“We’re done,” announced the woman into
her microphone. “Suspect is in custody.”

“That’s it?” Lacey wanted to know.
“It’s all over?”

“Is everyone okay?” Laurel leaned
forward, craning her neck to see the screen.

“No casualties.”

We all crowded around the screen,
clamoring for a peek at the aftermath.

“Look at Max,” I said, pointing to the
man in the wheelchair. “He knew they were coming, so he dropped
onto the floor. And there’s Larry in the corner. She made sure to
get away from Del.”

“Who do you think the guy is?” my
mother asked. “And why did he go after Larry?”

“That’s the question of the night,
ladies. Hopefully, we’ll have an answer before too long,” the
trooper announced.

 

Chapter Twelve
--

 

Fifteen minutes later, she drove us
back to the house. One of the troopers retrieved Laurel’s
wheelchair from the living room and we got her into it, rolled it
up the icy ramp, and through the back door, into the warmth of the
inn.

“We’re almost done in here,” said the
commander of the squad, meeting us in the hallway. “If you could
just wait in the dining room, we’ll be with you
shortly.”

Kenny sauntered in while I was in the
butler’s pantry, putting on a pot of coffee. “That poor chicken of
yours must be pretty tough by now. Pizza run?”

“Sounds good.”

“I’m starving. I need something sweet.”
He put his arms around me and gave me a proper kiss. When we
finally came up for air, he grinned. “You were awesome tonight, Miz
Scarlet.”

“Was I?”

“Very impressive.” He kissed me
again.

“Does that mean you couldn’t hear my
knees knocking, Captain Peacock?”

“Is that what that horrible noise
was?”

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