Chapter 32
December twenty-third, the evening of Pen’s little party. Although the guests would mostly be the Heist Ladies, others were welcomed too. It was their annual gift exchange, along with mulled wine and light hors d’ oeuvres since it was the evening preceding two or more days of sheer indulgence in the food department.
Benton was first to arrive and he presented Pen with a lovely necklace, a pendant with a tiny gold butterfly, and a book about how the law catches criminals. She kissed him when she saw the necklace, gave an exuberant hug over the book.
“It’s perfect research material for my novels,” she exclaimed.
“I thought it would be.” He beamed with pleasure at her delight in the gifts. “I also brought wine, for those who might not want theirs spiced and served warm.”
Through the beveled glass front door, Pen caught sight of Gracie, who was balancing a huge tray of homemade cookies. Her husband stood behind, holding a stack of empty boxes the guests could use to fill with their own selections of goodies. Benton rushed to the door to let them in while Pen put her new book on her desk.
Sandy and Mary followed along behind the others, carrying gift bags with their Secret Santa gifts. And Amber bustled in five minutes later, holding a large stewpot of something very fragrant. “Posole,” she said, “my mother’s traditional New Mexico recipe.” She carried it to the kitchen, explaining hers would be an eat-and-run visit because she had a flight to Santa Fe at nine-thirty.
“Mom and Dad are so excited that I’m coming home for Christmas this year,” she told everyone. “Not sure why, since I go nearly every year. Maybe they’ve got something up their little Santa Claus sleeves.”
Benton served drinks and Pen steered them toward a table laden with canapes. For a ‘light’ meal, she had gone all out with new recipes.
“Enjoy them while you can,” she teased. “This just happens to be a year when I’m not under a book deadline. Next year it could be frozen things from the warehouse club, warmed up.”
“Hey, those are good, too,” Sandy said. “Putting sprigs of parsley on the serving trays makes all the difference.”
Benton and Scott, as the only males present, had drifted toward the deck where Benton lit his pipe and Scott asked questions about the landscaping.
“So, not to talk shop at a holiday party,” Gracie said, “but since the men aren’t here and it’s just us girls … I have a bit of a bombshell.”
She went into the details about how she’d come across Foster and Melissa Fordyce performing variations of their routine.
“They’ve got every audience type nailed, from the evangelicals to the hippies. In one of the videos, Foster’s even wearing a long gray beard and has some kind of yogi turban on, and she’s wearing the simplest of gauzy clothing. In their deep South routine, they’re the next Jim and Tammy Faye Bakker, complete with all the right words to get the audiences to melt in their seats. I couldn’t believe the variety of roles they assume.”
Amber clicked her tongue. “Not surprised.”
“And …” Gracie continued, “they’re still raking in cash from the series of videos. I called the toll-free numbers and the lines are being answered. I pled poverty and still got talked into making a small donation.”
“Oh, no. Really?” Sandy said.
“All the in the name of research. Because … look at this.” Gracie pulled out her phone and brought up her credit card bill. “Amber, can you take some data from this? Maybe it’ll help toward your research into where the money goes.”
“It can’t hurt,” Amber said, stuffing the last bite of a mushroom cap into her mouth. “I’m hitting a blank wall. Total frustration. Somebody is hiding the cash deposits behind a ton of encryption methods, some of which I’ve never come up against.”
Pen nudged her. “Benton,” she whispered. The men were coming back inside.
Mary picked up two cheese puffs and handed one to Sandy. “I’m volunteering to help serve Christmas dinner at the shelter. Wanna come? They’ll be doing one tomorrow night and another midday on the twenty-fifth, and they can use extra helpers each time. The Food Bank got a bunch of turkeys and other foods donated, so it’ll be a lot more than just the residents. Could end up being a line out the door.”
“Sure. I was going out with some other single employees at the bank Christmas Day, but—”
“Where’s that posole?” Scott asked.
“Follow me,” Pen told him. “We’ll serve it up directly from the pot.”
“—the Christmas Eve meal would work out great for me,” Sandy finished, with a wink at Mary. “I wonder if that guy Ron will be back. Did I tell you I saw him yesterday, driving around again?”
Mary started to respond but Amber had brought her a bowl of the pork, chile, and hominy stew. “You gotta try this if you’ve never had it before,” she said.
The men were already raving about the dish, having found seats on the sofa. Scott immediately reached for the remote and found a football game. While the men were immersed in the sport, the Ladies finished their stew and then went to the tree to get their gifts.
Mary received a warm-up jacket in her favorite hot pink. A wink from Sandy reminded her they’d been shopping together one day when Mary exclaimed over it. Amber’s gift was a pair of warm gloves—“For your visit to Santa Fe,” Pen said. Gracie got cake decorating supplies for the new hobby she swore she was going to begin after the first of the year.
Sandy gushed over the silver and turquoise pendant she suspected had been mailed from a certain couple in Santa Fe from their daughter’s description of Sandy’s tastes, and Pen loved her new writing journal. “One can never have too many places to jot down plot ideas as they come. I shall keep this one in my bag with me at all times.”
Amber glanced at her phone screen. “Looks like it’s snowing in Santa Fe already. I’m in for a white Christmas, if my flight doesn’t get delayed. Right now it’s showing to be on time.”
“So, I suppose that’s your cue,” Pen said. “But first, we shall get into those fabulous cookies. You mustn’t go off and leave them all with me.”
They filled the boxes, then Amber picked up her coat and purse. “Don’t you go solving this valley-wide crime spree without me.”
The Ladies gathered around her for hugs. “I’m certain we won’t, sweetie,” said Gracie.
“Everyone have a wonderful Christmas!” she called as she walked out the door.