Chapter Twenty-four
I sat back in my chair at Howard and Freddy’s dinner table at eight that night. “I can’t manage another bite.” My plate still held a piece of the best turkey I’d ever eaten, a few bites of stuffing, a smear of cranberry sauce, and a stray garlicky green bean. “What a perfect Christmas Eve dinner.”
“Dad, you outdid yourself with that turkey,” Abe said. “Marinated and smoked is a winning combination.”
“Thanks, kids.” Howard beamed and drained his glass of Chardonnay. “I learned it from a Puerto Rican friend.”
Sean, who’d been as excited as a three-year-old when Abe and I had arrived with Cocoa a couple of hours ago, slipped the puppy at his feet a sliver of turkey. Cocoa scarfed it down.
“I saw that,” Freddy scolded. “Not too much of people food for the little guy, Seanie. You surely don’t want him upchucking on your bed tonight.”
“Yes, Grandma.” Sean popped in a huge bite of stuffing and washed it down with milk. “I’m going to take him out for a walk.” He stood. “Come on, Cocoa Puff.”
“We’ll have cookies when you get back,” his grandmother called after the two.
After the door shut, Abe set his elbow on the table and chin on his hand. “All right, Robbie, now that Sean’s out of the room, dish. On the way over, you said you’d had a newsworthy afternoon and part of it happened with Mom. Tell us what went down.”
I exchanged a glance with Freddy, who pointed back at me. “All right,” I began. “Howard, you must have heard that Jed wasn’t poisoned. Buck came in and told me this morning.”
“Yes,” Howard said. “But they were still waiting to see if any of the chocolate had been tainted.”
“Right. Danna’s grandmother, whose condo overlooks the back of the library, came into the store a little later and told me she kind of saw a woman in a red skirt pouring water on the pavement.”
“Kind of saw?” Abe asked.
“One, her contacts weren’t in. Two, she has cataracts. Three, she’s seventy. So, yeah, saw but not clearly.”
“Then Robbie asked me to go with her to visit Willa Mae this afternoon, but I had no idea what I was getting into,” Freddy said.
“Willa Mae wore a red skirt to dinner here Sunday night,” I said. “Karinde Nilsson hated Jed, but she never wears skirts. I didn’t want to visit a murderer alone.”
Abe squeezed my hand. “Smart move.”
“I took a little digital recorder in my bag and turned it on.”
“The poor woman.” Freddy wagged her head. “Jed had been beating Willa Mae badly. She told us she did pour the water. She knew he would walk by there, because he never varied his routine. And he’d been suffering from imbalance. She said she just wanted to hurt him.” She glanced at me.
I nodded. “Enough so he would stop hurting her. She said she didn’t mean to kill him.”
“Makes your heart break, doesn’t it?” Abe asked. “I can’t understand men who hurt their women, or anybody.” He blew out a breath.
“But why didn’t she simply leave him?” Howard asked.
“We asked her that,” Freddy said. “It’s a terrible syndrome, hon. And love is a strong emotion.”
“Willa Mae had been to the hospital at least once with her injuries, so the abuse is documented,” I said. “I’m sure by now medical practitioners know the difference between a bruise from actually walking into a door and one caused by another person.”
“Good.” Howard nodded.
“To top it all off, Buck and Oscar showed up with a warrant for her arrest. They’d gotten security cam footage from the library that showed Willa Mae doing the deed more clearly than Josie Dunn’s eyesight had.”
“Did she go calmly?” Abe asked.
“Yes, with the help of a whiskey or five she’d had beforehand. I hope they’ll let her off lightly.”
Boy and dog blew in through the door with a gust of cold air. “Cookies?” Sean asked.
Cocoa barked. Freddy laughed. Abe and I stood to clear the table.
We ended the evening with hot dark cocoa—spiked for the grown-ups, including Abe and me, since we were staying overnight—and cookies. Sean stood in front of the lit fireplace and recited “The Night Before Christmas,” which Abe said was the family’s annual ritual ever since Sean had been in preschool. The teen didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed by the attention, even when his changing voice cracked from low to squeaky.
When he was finished, the family began singing carols, one of my favorite things to do at Christmas. Freddy played the piano beautifully, and I discovered something new about my man—he had a strong and clear baritone singing voice. I must have never heard Abe sing before. Just one more thing to love about him.
I had a pang, picturing Willa Mae alone in jail tonight. I would do what I could to help her get a fair trial. In a misguided way, she’d been trying to save her own life, but she would probably end up in prison for years. I hoped she could find happiness, somehow, somewhere.
Recipes
Mexican Hot Chocolate
Californian Robbie makes up packets of this mix to sell in the store at Christmas. Too bad half of them were confiscated by the police.
Ingredients
1½ cups granulated sugar
1 cup all-natural unsweetened dark cocoa
1 teaspoon kosher salt
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
¾ teaspoon cayenne pepper (use ½ teaspoon if you want
more heat)
Directions
Whisk together all ingredients in a medium bowl. Store in an airtight container for up to 2 months. To make 1 serving of Mexican Hot Cocoa, heat 1 cup whole milk in a small saucepan over medium just until hot and milk begins to steam, about 5 minutes (or in a microwave for about a minute and a half). Remove from heat. Whisk in 2 tablespoons cocoa mix. Serve immediately with whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon.
Mexican Bridecakes
Freddy O’Neill uses her mother’s recipe for these easy buttery cookies. The original recipe comes from my grandmother Dorothy Henderson.
Ingredients
1 cup butter, softened
2 cups unbleached flour
¾ cup powdered sugar
1 cup pecans or walnuts, finely chopped (optional)
1 teaspoon vanilla
¼ teaspoon salt
¼ cup milk
Directions
Preheat oven to 375º F.
Mix all dry ingredients.
Cut butter into them until fine.
Add vanilla and milk and stir with a fork until mixed.
Form into a flat disk with your hands and chill for twenty minutes to a day.
Press or roll onto a cookie sheet to an even ¼-inch thickness.
Bake for about fifteen minutes, watching closely for browning.
While warm, sift powdered sugar over the top and cut into one-inch squares.
Eggnog Oatmeal
Robbie offers this seasonal oatmeal as a holiday breakfast special. Note: steel cut oats are chewier and more flavorful than rolled oats.
Makes two servings.
Ingredients
1 cup milk
1 cup eggnog (commercial or homemade using the recipe
of your choice)
¼ teaspoon salt
⅔ cup quick steel cut oats
Nutmeg
Directions
Bring dairy just to a boil. Stir in oats and salt, reduce the heat, and simmer uncovered for 6 minutes or until desired texture. Sprinkle nutmeg on top. Serve hot.
Dear Readers,
I hope you enjoyed Christmas Cocoa and a Corpse. I had fun setting a story featuring Robbie Jordan and her country store during Christmas in southern Indiana. I loved thinking up tasty specials for her and Danna to offer every day and to imagine Pans ’N Pancakes all decorated for the holidays. The Nativity scene at the elder O’Neills’ home comes directly from my own, right down to the irreverent additions of plastic figures like Snoopy and Bert. The life-sized menorah is modeled on the one in the gazebo in my own Massachusetts town.
If you haven’t read any of the Country Store Mysteries yet, this is the seventh installment. The series begins with Flipped for Murder, which takes place on the first day Robbie’s country store is open for business. But after a difficult South Lick town employee is found dead—with one of Robbie’s cheesy biscuits in her mouth—opening week gets a lot more complicated. You can make the biscuits from the recipe in the back, or sample Robbie’s signature Banana Walnut Pancakes. The next book is Grilled for Murder, which occurs a little more than a year before Christmas Cocoa and a Corpse. It’s the week after Thanksgiving and Robbie is horrified to find a body in her store the morning after she hosts a welcome home party for a local woman. The apple-spice muffins are baked, not grilled, and are an easy addition to your breakfast.
In When the Grits Hit the Fan, Robbie and a friend are out snowshoeing when they encounter a corpse frozen in a lake. The creamy cheesy grits recipe will warm your insides even as you read about Robbie and her new guy trapped in the woods in an ice storm facing a killer with a gun. Book four, Biscuits and Slashed Browns, takes place during the Maple Festival. But when a man is found dead at a maple syrup farm, things get sticky for Robbie and her new helper, Turner Rao. The recipe for Chocolate Biscotti doesn’t have maple in it, but is perfect for an Italian brunch or just a midmorning snack.
Death Over Easy, the next book, shows Robbie’s Italian father coming to town during a big bluegrass festival, when not one but two murders take place. If you make the Sugar Cream Pie, it goes down easier than finding the killer—or killers. Strangled Eggs and Ham, book six in the Country Store Mysteries, takes place during a steamy August, with controversy over a proposed real estate development in the county and Robbie’s septuagenarian aunt Adele leading a protest group. A cool cucumber-dill soup is a perfect accompaniment for both the weather and the heated controversy that leads to the murder of one of the protesters.
So a Christmas novella slides perfectly into book time. The seventh in the series, Nacho Average Murder, releases next year. Robbie heads back to her native California for her ten-year high school reunion in February. She samples new recipes featuring avocados and tortillas for her restaurant back home—and maybe digs up the real story behind her mother’s premature death.
It makes me so happy to write about Robbie, her cast of friends and family, and the delightful fictional town of South Lick in Brown County, Indiana. I lived in the neighboring county for five happy years a few decades ago, and I love being back in that slower-paced corner of the country. I get a kick out of including quirky regional sayings from Lieutenant Buck Bird and Robbie’s aunt Adele. And, within the confines of the story, I like exploring deeper questions of small-town life, family ties, and what would drive a regular person over the line to actually commit murder.
I’m always delighted to hear from readers. Please find me on Facebook on my Maddie Day page, on Twitter and Instagram at @MaddieDayAuthor, and on my Web site, edithmaxwell.com (my birth name and alternate author name). I blog and Facebook group with the Wicked Authors—we’d love to have you join us. If you’re reading this book close to the winter holidays, may you and yours have a warm and cozy season. And if you picked it up a different time of year, enjoy!
Cheers,
Maddie Day