Drizzled with Death(85)

“What made you decide to doctor her syrup?” I asked.

“As the treasurer for the Sap Bucket Brigade, I was there on Friday night when your family brought in the syrup. As soon as I saw the tag with Alanza’s name on it, I knew just how to do it. When no one was looking, I grabbed a couple extra bottles from the box next to the contestants’ table. I brought them home and added the poison to three of them, just to be sure I had at least one if something happened.”

“Where did you get the caps to reseal the bottle?” Lowell asked.

“I had them. I never get rid of anything, and a few years ago I started selling bath products made from goat’s milk. I had a bunch of caps in different sizes.”

“I thought that was how the poison got into the bottle.” Despite everything else I was relieved the rest of the syrup supply was safe.

“Graham, I assume you’ve got a pair of cuffs with you and a working knowledge of the Mirandizing procedure?” Lowell gestured toward Connie with a quick thrust of his chin. She looked up at me as Graham headed her way.

“You’d better get an expert in here to handle that stuff. I’d hate to be responsible for anyone else getting hurt. And Dani, I am sorry about what this did to your business.” Graham snapped the cuffs in place as Connie bent her head down for what I guess she expected to be a last nuzzle with Clementine. Profiterole followed Graham out of the barn dancing along at his heels like a child behind the Pied Piper. I suppose Graham is a banquet for the senses if you are a dog.

“Looks like I’ve got a job to get on with, and not a pleasant one either. Are you going to be all right?”

“I think I can manage the ladder now.”

“That’s not what I meant.” He gave my shoulder another squeeze.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Maybe what I should have asked was, will we be all right?” For such a calm man, he looked mighty worried.

“We will be.” And I meant it. It was time to move on, to change, to grow up. My mother had found a way to get over my father’s death, and I should follow her example and do the same. “As long as you promise to be good to my mother.”





Twenty-two





After giving my official statement at the police station, all I wanted to do was to sit in the sugarhouse office and play mahjong on my computer. The driveway was empty of cars when I’d pulled up, and I managed to sneak down to the sugarhouse without being spotted. I was in no mood for any more emotions coming off any more people. What I needed was to just be alone.

I paused on the porch thinking about where everything had started and wondering what had become of the mountain lion and what would become of Graham once the last monkey had been rounded up. A metallic glint caught my eye. A fluttering shred of tinsel was snagged on a rough spot on a floorboard. In all the excitement I had completely forgotten the Christmas typhoon that had laid waste to the sugarhouse. Where had it all gone?

I pushed open the door and sniffed the air. No cinnamon, no pine. A stiff fresh breeze blew in from the back and I went to close whatever window had been opened. My mother knelt in a corner, a red and green peasant skirt swirled out around her, carefully lifting sparkly ornaments from an artificial tree. All around the room, surfaces that had been smothered by her efforts to cheer the place up were once again cleared. When she turned to face me, I noticed glitter sprinkling her face like metallic freckles.

“Lowell called,” she said.

“I expect he had a lot to say.”

“He said that Connie confessed and Greener Pastures is in the clear.”

“I know. I was there when it happened.”

“He also said the two of you settled your differences.” She leaned a little toward me, like a well-behaved dog eyeing the turkey platter. Restrained, but hopeful. I sank to the floor next to her, close enough to feel the peculiarly unnatural itching fake trees cause.

“Uncle Lowell and I are all patched up.”

“But you and I are not.” She clutched at the ornament box like it was a life preserver.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I wanted to, Dani, but I just didn’t know how.”

“You could have just come out and said it. I can’t see what was so hard about that.”

“I didn’t want you to be hurt. You’ve been through enough with what happened with your father.”

“And whose fault is that, do you think?”

“Do you blame yourself for what happened to him?” She dropped the box in her lap and gave me her full attention.

“I’m the one who had to go to college so far away.”

“What was so wrong with that?”