Miz Scarlet and the Holiday Houseguests (A Scarlet Wilson Mystery #3) by Sara M. Barton
Chapter Seven --
“Actually,” I smiled, hoping to dissuade her from worrying, “it was my idea. I offered to put you up the other day, when she booked the Black Oak Room for your grandmother. I even told your mother it would be my Christmas gift, but she turned me down. She said you had a perfectly good room at home.”
“Swear?” For the first time since she arrived, I met Michaela’s gaze head on, and I took in all the details of that fourteen-year-old face. There was real anxiety in those brown eyes of hers, and it wasn’t just there because she thought there might be someone stalking her mom. Mickey knew something. I needed to find out what it was.
“I swear. Scout’s honor.” I held up my hand, giving her my solemn vow. “Why? Is there something that makes you think your mom has a problem?”
She bit her lip, and I saw that glint of metal as the light hit her braces. I could tell she wanted to say something, but she wasn’t sure if I was the right person. Whatever it was, it seemed to be eating away at her.
“Mickey? If you know something and it’s important, we have to tell your mom.”
“It’s no big deal,” she tried to insist, but I wasn’t convinced.
“Tell you what. Why don’t you let me decide whether or not that’s true? I’ll take responsibility for this, and if I think your mom needs to know, I’ll help you tell her.”
“Some guy called me the other day.”
“Did he call on your cell phone or the landline?” I cut in. There was a big difference between the two. Michaela was attached to her Smartphone; she didn’t share it with her mom.
“My cell phone. He knew my name and he said my mother was a...a....” She couldn’t bring herself to say the word. I took a stab at the problem, sitting down on the bed next to her.
“He called your mother a bad name?”
She nodded again, finally spitting it out letter by letter. When I heard what it was, I cringed.
“Honey, why didn’t you tell your mother right away? That’s something she needs to know, especially if it involves a case she’s working on.”
“I didn’t want her to get upset. She hates that kind of language.”
“Oh, Mickey,” I hugged her. “Has anyone told you lately what a great kid you are?”
“No.” Suddenly weepy, she clung to me. I could feel her trembling.
“Well, you are. I’m proud of you for telling me. Now, don’t worry. Your big, old Uncle Bur is right out back, we’ve got a super security system, and we take very good care of all of our guests at the Four Acorns Inn. Tomorrow your grandfather will be here,” I reminded her, trying to distract her from her concerns. It didn’t work.
“What about my mom? What if someone wants to hurt her?” Unlike a lot of teenagers, Michaela was a little too aware of life’s ugly realities. How could I reassure her that everything would be fine?
“I will call her right now. Let me write down the details of what happened to you. In the meantime, you can get settled for bed.”
“I don’t think I can sleep now, Scarlet. I’m scared.” When I studied her, I saw the tired eyes. Maybe Larry wasn’t the only one who hadn’t been getting enough shuteye.
“Good thing we have three dogs.” I patted her hand. “Three very noisy watch dogs. Does that make you feel better?”
“I guess.” She gave me a tentative smile. “I wish I had a dog.”
“By the way, don’t be surprised if Mozzie climbs into bed with you. He doesn’t like to sleep alone. Oh,” I chuckled, finally understanding why Jenny was so eager to offer Michaela a place to stay. “I guess that girl is pretty clever, suggesting I invite you to stay at the inn. I think she wants you to look out for her best buddy while she’s gone.”
“I don’t mind. I like dogs.”
“Good thing. I hope you also like cats. You’ll probably come across Scrub Oak at some point. By the way, we don’t let him outside. Too many predators in the woods. Coyotes, foxes, even fisher cats.”
“Ooh, that sounds scary.”
“Nothing you have to worry about,” I assured her.
“Honest?”
“If you ever come across a wild animal in the woods, just make a lot of noise and carefully back away.”
“I’d rather just run,” she insisted, “as fast as I can.”
“With predators, if you do that, they’ll think you’re vulnerable prey and chase you. The trick is to make them think you’re scarier and more dangerous than they are. Sometimes you have to puff yourself up and have a bigger growl.” I pretended to be fierce, standing up, arms in the air, and let out a menacing g-r-r-r from my diaphragm.
“I’ll remember that, Miz Scarlet,” she promised, giving me a metal-lined grin.
“Good. Now why don’t you go down and say goodnight to my mother? I’ll be down in a minute.”
“Sure.” She scampered off the bed and made clawing gestures in the air above her head, lowering her voice until she sounded like a demented troll. “Get away from me, you ugly beast, before I kick your sorry behind!”
Amused, I watched her disappear down the stairs with all the grace of a five-hundred-pound canary on steroids.
As a responsible adult, I did what I thought was best. I pulled out my cell phone and made the call, even though I knew the homicide investigator would hit the roof.
“Rivera,” she announced when she picked up, suggesting she was so busy, she didn’t even have time to check her caller ID. Not a good sign.
“Larry, I think you’ve got a serious problem on your hands.”
“What kind of problem?” she wanted to know. I gave her the date and time of the phone call, along with the gist of the menacing message to Michaela.
“Crap!” said Larry. I waited for the rest of her wrath, but it never came.
“Larry?” The silence continued, and for a moment, I thought she had left me to handle some police matter. When she did speak, it was to berate her own parental skills.
“I’m a terrible mother, Scarlet. I failed my kid. I failed her big time. I should have been there for her. She should have been able to tell me about this.”
“Actually, she was trying to spare you any worry. She thought she’d handle it herself. It turns out you raised a good kid, Larry.”
“I wish she had told me. Lord, I’ve got to scramble to get the phone records. Luckily, the account’s in my name. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Larry!” I said her name urgently, hoping to catch her before she hung up on me.
“What?”
“You come to the inn to sleep tonight. I’ve got a room all ready for you.”
“Thanks, Miz Scarlet, but I’ll be fine.” Even as she blew me off, I pushed back. Knowing I’d worry about her if she wasn’t with us, I had no intention of taking no for an answer.
“I mean it. You know that Kenny put in that security system. It’s top of the line. You’ll be able to get some rest. I can even have Bur sleep at the inn tonight, unless you’ve got a better idea.”
“Miz Scarlet....”
“Larry, you’ve got a kid worried sick about you, and the only thing that’s going to make her feel safe is knowing she’s got her mom within screaming distance. If you need back-up, feel free to bring your cop friends.”
I could hear her breathing on the other end, and as the seconds ticked on, I waited patiently. It was just a matter of time before Larry folded. She could huff and puff all she wanted, trying to convince me that she knew how to take care of herself and that she’d be fine, but she was missing the big picture. An innocent teenage victim, caught in the blowback of Larry’s wake, had found her life turned upside down, and now it was time to step up to the plate and play for the team.
“This isn’t about you as a homicide investigator,” I reminded her. “This is about you as a mother. Don’t tell me you let your kid down and then refuse the chance to make her feel protected.”
“That’s a low blow, Scarlet! Using guilt on me is just plain mean!” she announced churli
“I’m more than capable of going under the limbo bar, Rivera. Might as well just say yes now and save yourself a lot of pain, because I’m not going away any time soon.”
“God, you’re a pain in the tush.” There was another long pause and I knew she was contemplating the situation. Michaela was the chink in her armor, but something told me it was more than that. Larry really was genuinely worried. Did she know something specific or was she just operating on instinct? Overworked and stressed, was she even thinking straight? Could there more to that threat to Michaela than Larry wanted to admit? Did she hope to draw the bad guy away from her daughter by keeping her distance, staying away from Mickey and making herself the target?
“I may be a pain in the tush, but you know I’m right. Your kid needs you, Larry. Not next week or next month, when the case is wrapped up. Mickey needs you now.”
Finally she spoke to me. “Can I bring Max? I want to keep this unofficial until I know what’s going on.”
“Absolutely. Good choice. Call me when you’re on your way.”
“Will do,” she agreed. With that settled, she hung up.
Larry doesn’t want this to be official. She’s a state trooper and her kid was threatened, but she doesn’t want colleagues to know about it. Instead, she’s turning to her former partner, the man who always had her back. Does that make any sense? Maybe there’s something going on at work I don’t know about, something serious.
Max had been Larry’s long-time mentor at the Connecticut State Police homicide unit. After twenty years of complaining about the crazy hours and the nasty suspects, and dreaming about buying a bar down in Daytona Beach and spending his days sipping Margaritas with a bevy of beautiful women in bikinis, he ended up taking a job with Darwin Pellman, the high-power defense attorney down in New Haven a few months ago. He had gone over to the dark side, in the eyes of former colleagues, and yet, he was the man Larry reached out to for help. She trusted him.
Max pulled into the driveway a little after ten, triggering the motion-sensor lights, and stopped his car in our small parking area. I watched him climb out of the driver’s seat, grab his overnight case, and hobble to the front porch of the Four Acorns Inn. I stood on the top step, feeling the cold air through my sweater as I waited.
“Hey!” I greeted him with a hug. “How’s everything? Thanks for coming.”
“You know me, Miz Scarlet. I’d do anything for Larry Bear.”
“I thought as much. To tell you the truth, Max, Michaela’s rather upset by all this nonsense, and Larry even more so.”
“I can’t really blame her. No cop wants to hear that his kid is being menaced by some creep who belongs in a jail cell.” His worn face was now adorned with a new pair of glasses, metal rims, and a graying moustache. We walked into the foyer together, and once he removed his navy parka, I hung it up.
“Let me show you to your room,” I said, taking his arm in mine. With his bad knees, I knew stair-climbing was a challenge for Max, so I steered him to the small elevator that would take us up to the second floor. We chatted about the weather, the family, and his new job as the tiny car traveled slowly to its destination. Michaela was already there, waiting for us, as the door opened and we stepped into the hallway. She threw her arms around her mother’s former partner and gave him an almost desperate hug.
“I’m so glad you’re here, Maxie! I’ve missed you!”
“I missed you, too. You look great, kid. Very grown up. You must be breaking a lot of hearts these days, fighting the boys off with a stick.”
“Not really!” said the teenager, blushing.
“Yes, really,” he laughed, tugging on a lock of her long, dark hair.
My cell phone rang as I stood there, enjoying their good-natured camaraderie. Glancing down, I saw it was Larry.
“Excuse me. I’ve got to take this call.” I stepped away and headed down the hallway, rounding the corner before I answered it. “Hi. Where are you?”
“I’m here, Scarlet, on your front porch.”
“I’ll be right down,” I promised.
“For God’s sake, hurry. I’m freezing my fanny off out here!”
A moment later, I passed the chattering teenager, now holding Mozzie, and the retired cop.
“Mickey, can you please show Max to the Red Oak Room and help him get settled?” I asked as I passed them, heading for the stairs.
“Sure. Come on, Maxie. It’s this way,” she directed him, now a veteran of the official Four Acorns Inn tour.
I hurried to reach the bottom, scurrying across the twenty feet of foyer, and opened the front door to a sorry sight. Larry, uncovered hair damp with melting snowflakes, was shivering as she stood under the porch light. Her eyes were dark, almost brooding, reflecting a hint of danger on the horizon. There was trouble headed this way. I could see it in her expression, even as she tried to hide it. But it was the scene behind her that captured my attention. I noticed snow had begun to fall. The big, fat flakes seemed to float in the air as they fell to earth. Why did that bother me? We were expecting at least three inches before the night was ended.
And then it hit me. The ground should be pristine and untouched, and yet I saw boot prints. There were two different sets, one large, one small. They cut through that white blanket, leaving a trail that went around to the back of the house.
“Did you walk through the yard?” I inquired, pointing to the snowy tracks.
“Of course I did. I’m trying to determine if there has been an intruder on the premises.”
“And?”
“Hard to tell.”
“Maybe Bur did a check, to make sure everything was secure,” I suggested. “He was hanging around the house a little while ago. I’ll ask him.”
I thought that might make her feel better, but she was still snippy. “Are you going to invite me in or admire the damn view?”
“Sorry. Let me take that suitcase.” I reached out and took it out of her hand, waiting for her to cross the threshold before I shut and locked the front door.
“I see Max is already here,” she said, sitting down on the hall chair. Raising her left foot, she slipped off the black boot, revealing a black herringbone-patterned sock. She set it down, and did the same with her right foot.
“Michaela is showing him the Red Oak Room,” I smiled. “I’ve got you in the White Oak Room.”
“This is so unnecessary,” she grumbled, as I reached down and took the soggy boots from her and put them on the boot tray in the hall closet.
“It’s just to protect the floors. The salt from the sidewalk wreaks havoc with the finish, Larry.”
“No, not the boots. The bed. I’d be just fine at home.”
“Tough tiddlywinks. You’re here, so live with it. By the way, what time do you want breakfast tomorrow and what would you like?”
“Breakfast?”
“It’s all part of the pampering,” I grinned. “What time?”
“I’ve got to be on the road at seven-thirty.”
“So, do you want to eat at six-thirty, seven?”
“Seven.”
“I can make you eggs, waffles, French toast, pancakes, bacon, sausage, oatmeal....” I listed all the items on the breakfast menu at the Four Acorns Inn.
“Maybe there’s an upside to all this after all,” she decided, raising an eyebrow playfully as her lips softened into a semblance of a smile. “At least I won’t have to cook. Now, let me go talk to Max.”