Chapter Twelve --

 

“Do you think we can keep Max’s aunt and Edna safe? I’ll remind you that both Lacey and Bur were attacked this afternoon.”

“We’re going to have to, honey. It’s the only way to stop Max and Larry from killing us -- you know they will if anything happens to Ruth and the Queen of Clean.”

Just after three, Laurel and the doctor returned home, exhausted and discouraged. Thaddeus’s test results confirmed a new spot of cancer.

“It’s slow-growing,” he explained, trying to be nonchalant, “nothing to worry about in the foreseeable future. I have some time to weigh my options and decide what to do.”

“I’m sorry,” I told him lamely. “I wish it was better news.”

“You and me both,” he smiled sadly. “Still, it could have been worse. This time around, there are new treatments available, with fewer side effects.”

“That’s good.” I glanced over at my mother, who was unusually quiet. She was watching Thaddeus closely, as if trying to decide what to do. This was the first man she had shown a real interest in since my dad died all those years ago. Why did it have to be this way for her? Somehow, it didn’t seem fair. I decided to break the news about Edna and Ruth. “We’ve got new guests arriving shortly.”

“Oh?” My mother barely reacted, still fretting about Dr. Van Zandt’s health.

“Larry’s mom and Max’s aunt will be staying with us.”

“That’s fine” There was no enthusiasm for the evening’s plans. There was no enthusiasm for anything. The wind had gone out of Laurel’s sails.

“The reason they’re coming is because we had some excitement while you two were gone.” I didn’t even have a chance to break the bad news before the local town crier arrived.

“Yoo-hoo!” The front door popped open and Lacey came rushing down the hallway, her voice brimming with excitement. A moment later, she arrived, breathless, in the living room. “You’re back! How did it go at the hospital?”

“Shoot!” I mumbled under my breath. The last thing I wanted was for Lacey to spill the beans in her usual dramatic fashion. She waited all of three minutes, commiserating with Thaddeus on his difficult diagnosis, before she sat back on the sofa and composed herself. I knew she was about to deliver the story, line by theatrical line, so I cut her off before she could begin her performance. “We had another unfortunate break-in this morning, but we’ve already got a handle on it.”

“There was another break-in?” Laurel let out a soft, audible gasp. I watched her fingers tighten on the arm rests of her wheelchair. On the sofa beside her, Dr. Van Zandt waited expectantly, as if he hoped I was about to tell him something interesting. He seemed willing to converse about anything but cancer.

“I was grabbed by a masked man!” Lacey cut in. “He threatened to throw me over the upstairs railing!”

“He did what?” My mother was clearly alarmed by the news.

“We know who it is. I recognized him,” I told her, breaking in quickly. “He used to be a regular in high school detention.”

“Oh, heavens! Has the world gone mad?” my mother uttered. Before Lacey could confirm Laurel’s worst fears, Kenny appeared in the doorway.

“Good news. The police just picked up Neil Kradic. They’re still looking for his accomplice, but they’re optimistic they’ll shake it out of the snarky little....” On the verge of saying something rather rude in front of the senior citizens, Captain Peacock came to his senses and edited his comment. “Um...twit.”

He confidently strolled into the living room, like everything was copacetic. Laurel didn’t seem convinced.

“Why is this happening to us?”

“We’re not really sure, Mom.”

“It’s like everything in my life has suddenly turned upside down.”

As she said that, I knew it wasn’t just the bad news about trouble at the Four Acorns Inn. Her love life had taken a big hit with the news about Dr. Van Zandt’s health. I hated to see her so upset.

He, on the other hand, was eager to delve into the mystery. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, chin in hand, and got started.

“What did happen?” her companion inquired. I hesitated, wondering if I should give him the sanitized version, but he waved me off. “I’m a big boy. Tell me the truth.”

“They grabbed Bur and bound him with a sheet and duct tape.”

“They used one of our sheets, the Egyptian cotton ones?”

“No, Mom. They brought it with them. It was a cotton-poly blend, inexpensive.” As I said that, I suddenly felt like the world’s biggest snob, remarking about the quality of cotton used to bind my brother, but I had my reasons. When we invested in expensive bed linens, we did so for the quality and we expected them to last for several years. A sheet was just a sheet, unless you were afraid you’d have to replace it with a new one.

“And while we were freeing him, Neil and his friend let themselves into the inn,” Kenny added.

“One of them had the audacity to enter my room while I was in my nightgown and that’s when I screamed!” Lacey was still appalled at the insult to her sense of privacy. “Scarlet came running.”

Kenny filled in the rest of the details, reciting the chronology of events, and when he was done, he explained why Edna and Auntie Ruthie were coming to stay with us.

“Good idea,” Thaddeus nodded. “You can control what goes on that way.”

I glanced over at him, thankful he was a reasonable man. That was something my mother really needed in her life. If only that cancer hadn’t shown up to the party, Laurel might have found her ‘happily ever after’.

“If you feel you want to stay somewhere else, for safety’s sake, I’ll be happy to book you a room in Manchester,” I offered. “Or even Hartford, if you’d prefer.”

“No, no. I wouldn’t dream of it. This will be a welcome distraction from my own troubles. Who knows? Maybe I can help.”

“But if someone is determined to ruin us, you could be in harm’s way, Thaddeus.” My mother shook her head. “Maybe we should just close up the inn for a few weeks. We could go away on vacation. Bermuda is nice this time of year.”

“So’s Tahiti,” Lacey countered. “We don’t want some ax murderer coming after us, do we?”

Thaddeus seemed to be rather intrigued by our conundrum. He went at it rationally, picking it apart with precision worthy of the skilled surgeon he was. It’s hard not to love a man who can keep his head in a crisis, as disaster appears on the horizon.

“Let’s take a rational look at this. The Wilkies were hired to do what they did. It’s likely that these other two gentlemen were also hired to bother you. Thus, whoever is causing you problems is still around. Unless I miss my guess, that means you’re setting some kind of trap, Kenny.”

“Very good, doctor. We think Kradic and his accomplice needed something in the Wilkies’ room. The question is did they find it?”

“We think?” I replied, my eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “I thought we assumed this was done to harass us.”

“When I say ‘we’, Scarlet, I am referring to Max and the other folks at Mercer Security,” Kenny informed me.

“Okay, fine. But what about the blueberry bush chopper?”

“Blueberry bush chopper?” Laurel inquired. She seemed calmer, thanks in large part to Dr. Van Zandt’s steady, sane attitude.

“Some barbarian cut down the blueberry bushes. We won’t have any fruit this year,” I said forlornly. There would be no fresh-picked blueberries for muffins, pancakes; or even a blueberry buckle coffee cake this summer.

“All of them?”

“Several,” I nodded. A moment later, I corrected myself. “Actually, most of them were destroyed.”

“Just the blueberry bushes?” she wondered.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Not the roses?”

“Not the roses, Mom. Why?”

“It seems odd to just cut up the fruit bushes. Why not do the roses too?”

“Maybe the thorns were a deterrent,” Lacey replied thoughtfully. “There’s nothing worse then getting all tangled up in those sharp barbs. It can be painful.”

“It’s possible Bur interrupted the game plan before they were able to finish their handiwork,” Thaddeus theorized.

“You said it could have been done as a distraction, so that Neil and his buddy could get into the Wilkies’ room to steal something,” I reminded Kenny.

“I did suggest that,” he agreed readily. “It’s possible they waited for you to notice them and take action.”

“In other words, you’re suggesting they were out there a while,” Lacey remarked, “snipping off branches?”

“I am.”

“It would be awful if they just kept hacking up the bushes because you didn’t see them out there, Scarlet.” My mother was clearly upset by the vandalism. “They might have destroyed everything.”

“Then again, maybe they were killing two birds with one stone,” Lacey added, tapping her index finger against her chin as she considered the scenario. “What if the ringleader is someone local, who knows how important the Four Acorns Inn gardens are to the people around here?”

That sounded like a very real possibility. My brother and I had spent the last couple of years expanding the gardens as an outdoor guest sanctuary. Around Cheswick, when word spread that our butterfly garden was glorious in full bloom, the local art guild asked permission for their members to set up their easels for painting parties. The local paper even sent a photographer to capture the action. If someone wanted to ruin the Four Acorns Inn, destroying the landscaped grounds would be a start.

“It feels like we’re watching a theatrical production staged for our benefit,” Thaddeus told the group. “There’s lots of bark, but not so much bite.”

“Whoever is behind this effort wants everyone at the Four Acorns Inn terrified,” said our security expert.

“And all of our neighbors, too,” my mother decided. “How many times in the past two days have we had to call the police? We’re starting to become the talk of the neighborhood. If this keeps up, Karin Frenlind is going to look like Sergeant Sarah Brown of the Save-a-Soul Mission in comparison.”

“I think we can be pretty sure no one’s trying to take over the Four Acorns Inn for a floating crap game,” said Bur, picking up on the reference to Guys and Dolls and running with it. “I wonder if Karin’s involved with some kind of criminal enterprise and she’s using her thugs to gain control over the neighborhood dice game.”

“But instead of Sky Masterson and Nathan Detroit, we’ve got Neil Kradic and his unknown accomplice,” Lacey pointed out.

“I don’t know.” Kenny stroked that fabulously chiseled chin of his as he pondered the situation. “From a law enforcement perspective, this campaign of harassment has been relatively harmless in terms of actual physical damage to people or property. It’s been staged in different areas on the grounds and even inside the house, which suggests a familiarity with the Four Acorns Inn.”

“How can you say that it’s harmless? Jenny and Shark Boy were certainly in danger when they were stranded on the highway,” I pointed out huffily, “and what about Dave Wilkie and his homemade bomb? That could have blown the front door right off its hinges.”

“But these things happened off-stage, so to speak, and the actors hung around to play their parts. Wilkie was planning to remain after his device went off. I hardly think he would have done so if he believed his life was in any real danger.”

“I suppose that’s true,” I grudgingly admitted. “But why did Neil and his friend trash the White Oak room?”

“On the one hand, it looks like vandalism, but on the other, it could have been cover when they needed to find something the Wilkies had in their room.”

“At least none of the guests has been attacked...yet,” my mother said. “I wonder if that’s significant.”

“There’s got to be a specific purpose behind these acts, one that makes sense to the mastermind.” The good doctor stretched his legs out in front of himself as he shifted in his chair.

“What if Neil and his friend were hired because they were high school students when I was still teaching? Are the police supposed to believe it’s just an old vendetta of sorts, so they don’t look for the brains behind the bad behavior?”

“Well, all I know is that I have the urge to run away,” Laurel acknowledged, “far, far away.”

“I know the feeling,” Lacey agreed, shaking her head.

“Why would someone need to intimidate the residents of the Four Acorns Inn? What would they get out of it?” Dr. Van Zandt wondered. “I don’t suppose you have hidden treasure on the premises.”

“Not to my knowledge,” my mother smiled, her sense of humor briefly surfacing. “It’s not like we’re dripping in diamonds or mink.”

“You ladies must certainly have your share of male admirers. Perhaps one of your rivals has it in for you.”

My mother shook her head before she spoke. “I don’t get out much. Lacey, on the other hand....”

“Me? Sure, I date a bit, but I never date married men. It’s against my principles.”

“Bob Morelli has a fiancée. Isn’t that what you told me the other day?”

“He’s sort of engaged,” was Lacey’s reply.

“Say what?” Bur’s eyebrows shot up as a smile played on his face. “What qualifies as ‘sort of engaged’ in your book?”

The Googins girls went back and forth on Bob’s status, finally deciding that since he had proposed, but hadn’t actually bought a ring for the woman he had been seeing for the better part of a year, technically speaking, the man wasn’t engaged.

“I’m pretty sure the lady won’t see it that way,” Kenny pointed out. “In any case, if she feels you’re a threat to her relationship, it does actually give her a motive to come after you.”

Laurel’s lips twitched as she fought the urge to smile. She had long ago given up on handing out romantic advice to her headstrong cousin, knowing only too well that Lacey enjoyed the chase. “Ah, that puts me in mind of William Congreve’s infamous and often misquoted line from The Mourning Bride. How does it go? ‘Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned.’ Perhaps she’s decided to take matters into her own hands, dear.”

“But it’s not a reason to go after Jenny or Bur,” the subject of the conversation countered, “or to blow up the Four Acorns Inn.”

Kenny shrugged, his brow furrowed. “That’s true.”

“Is the land valuable?” Thaddeus wanted to know. “Or is there historical significance to the home itself?”

“It’s been in our family for three generations,” my mother told him. “My parents built it, I grew up here, and now it belongs to my children.”

“Maybe someone wants you to sell it,” he suggested. “The architecture is fabulous and the house is obviously in very good shape for its age. I assume the grounds are extensive, backing to acres and acres of conservation land. With such a lovely setting, I should think it would appeal to a buyer who has lots of money to spend and a great affection for Victorian charm.”

“But why not just ask us?” I wanted to know. “If someone has the bucks and the price was right, we’d certainly entertain the idea. Given the current state of the economy, we’d be stupid to turn down a reasonable offer.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for someone to make an offer for Wallace’s place?” Laurel interjected.

“What’s Wallace’s place?” the doctor inquired.

“It’s Lacey’s brown Victorian just up the street.”

“You have a mansion too?”

“I do,” Lacey replied. Dr. Van Zandt was treated to the story of how two brothers joined the Four Oaks Pressboard Company and eventually built homes close to each other. “I’m thinking of terminating my tenant’s lease at the moment. I don’t care for the way she does business. There are so many comings and goings at all hours of the day and night, the neighbors are complaining.”

“Have you considered that you might not be the only victims of this unpleasantness?” Thaddeus suggested amiably. “Perhaps someone is out to ruin her, too. I wonder if other people in the neighborhood are on the receiving end of these nasty games.”