Biscotti and Brutality, page 2
“What?” Bethany asked.
“I feel I can breathe a little better now that I've left my comfort zone,” Julie confessed. “Snow Falls isn't going anywhere. We can enjoy ourselves.”
Bethany watched Julie fold her arms, which were covered by a lovely blue and white sweater draped over khaki cargo pants. Julie was tense, but the woman was clearly determined to stop living in fear.
I am uneasy, but if I let the shadows consume me, I'll never be free. I refuse to be scared. Sarah leaves her house every day knowing that the snowman could show up. My own snowman can show up at any time, but I have to stop living in fear. Bethany locked her eyes on a line of dazzling autumn trees, and for a minute, she felt her heart actually...relax. I may be crazy, but I'm feeling very glad I took this trip.
“It’s still early. Maybe after we get checked in, we can go into town and wander around some of the antique shops?”
“Oh, that sounds fun,” Julie beamed. “But first, maybe we can eat? I'm starving.”
“Uh...we ate at the airport,” Bethany teased Julie a little.
“Well, Amanda's blood runs in me.” Julie laughed. “The four breakfast biscuits I ate didn't fill my tummy.”
Bethany laughed. It felt good to laugh. “I guess not.”
Ron smiled and tittered down a sleepy back road, eventually arriving at a large two-story home sitting at the end of a long driveway lined with bright autumn trees. “Oh my.” Bethany and Julie both gasped as Ron drove up the driveway. Lines of breathtaking rolling hills filled their eyes. The hills were soaked with autumn leaves and complemented by two old barns, a lovely duck pond, and a cozy pumpkin patch. Off to the right side of the main house, countless milk cows were out grazing.
“Jim and Jill own a nice place. Used to be a real dump out here until they fixed it up,” Ron explained, easing his car through a small covered bridge that ran over a sleepy stream. The bridge creaked and groaned but held.
“Well, here we are.” Ron pulled his car up next to a green truck that was winter tough. “I'll get your luggage.”
“How much do we owe you?” Bethany asked.
“Well, the drive up from the capital ain't like driving down the road to get some milk,” Ron informed Bethany. “I got to pay for my gas...so how about...a hundred dollars?” Ron turned an old, street-worn face around and adjusted a ball cap he was wearing. “Fifty bucks apiece sound about right?”
“Sure does.” Bethany quickly grabbed her purse before Julie could react. She snatched out twenty-dollar bills and counted. “Here.” She handed Ron one hundred and forty dollars. “I added a tip.” And why not? This old man drove out of his way to pick me and Julie up. And he's so nice.
“You're okay.” Ron smiled at Bethany as he took his money. “You ladies go on inside and I'll get your luggage.”
Julie smiled. “Come on, love.” With those words, she climbed out into a crisp, delightful, autumn morning and stretched her arms. “Oh, smell the chimney smoke in the air...and look at the milk cows.”
Bethany crawled out of Ron's car and looked around. This land is so beautiful, she thought, feeling a gentle wind brush the green sweater she was wearing—a green sweater she had bought at O'Mally's. If I were back home, I would be at O'Mally's right now looking at the same old sweaters. It's time to take a deep breath and relax. “I love milk cows.”
Before Julie could respond, a heavy wooden door attached to the brown two-story house swung open. A tall, skinny, gray-headed woman quickly appeared.
“Hey, Jim,” Jill Cunningham called out in an irritated voice, “Ron done brought us more of them tourists. You better get the chainsaw!” She deliberately spoke in a heavy Texan tone even though she was a Yankee.
A short, plump man who immediately reminded Bethany of the dad from the television series Happy Days appeared beside his wife (the plump man even had the last name—oh, the irony). He covered his eyes with a quick hand and studied the scene. “Nah, we better use the ax on them. Chainsaw is rusty,” Jim said, transforming a heavy Georgia accent into a hard Canadian voice. “I sharpened the ax last night.”
Ron rolled his eyes. “And you two wonder why you get no business?” he called out.
“Basement is too full of bodies. Told you to stop bringing us these tourists until we could get rid of the bodies, Ron!” Jim fussed, and pointed at Bethany and Julie. “You two like finger soup? Maybe me and the wife can fatten you up for the slaughter?”
Bethany and Julie glanced at each other and then looked back at Jim and Jill. Jill was wearing a brown sweater with the words “I'm with this Moron” printed on it along with an arrow that pointed at Jim. Jim was wearing an orange sweater with the words “I'm with this Old Bat” printed on it along with a hard finger pointing at his wife. “Maybe we better get checked in before you kill us?” Bethany suggested.
Jill tossed her eyes at Jim. “What do you think?” she asked.
Jim's face twisted into a curious expression. “Might as well. Sheriff Nayes has been snooping around. Best if we kill them after the sun sets.” Jim grinned a hideous smile. “Come inside, ladies,” he called out, turning his voice into that of a creepy undertaker and eased back into a warm, cozy foyer as if he were a monster.
“They're insane,” Ron warned Bethany and Julie. “The older they get, the more their minds go.” He rolled his eyes again and looked toward the house. “Jill,” he called out, “saw Mac driving toward town. Been meaning to ask how Paula is doing. Any word?”
Jill smiled. She loved acting crazy. “Ron, you know as well as I do that Paula Towers is the biggest hypochondriac in Hay Lake. Now stop gabbing and get the luggage inside. And you two”—Jill pointed at Bethany and Julie—“here are the rules: no loud music, no drugs, no smoking, no drinking, no parties...those are the serious rules! Now, here are the not-so-serious rules: no breathing, no talking, no eating, no moving...understand? But be sure to pay me first before you follow the rules—cash only—ten grand a night! And for goodness’ sake, if the mafia shows up, just duck and cover!” With those words, Jill tipped Ron. “Oh, one last rule: all guests have to milk the cows.”
“And slaughter the chickens!” Jim yelled from inside the house.
Ron let out a chuckle. “Last people who stayed here lasted two hours. Best wishes, ladies.”
Bethany glanced at Julie. To her relief, Julie was smiling. “I'll slaughter the chickens only if you cook them!” Julie called back to Jim.
“Deal!”
“Hey, Jim, I like her! Maybe we'll keep her alive,” Jill told her husband. She hurried off the lovely front porch filled with rocking chairs and approached Bethany and Julie. Smiling, she said, “With all kidding aside, welcome to Hay Lake. Sarah Garland—uh, Spencer—told me and that man inside I call a husband so much about you. Whoever is a friend of Sarah's is a friend of ours.” She quickly shook Bethany’s and Julie's hands. “Now, let's get you two settled and then we'll drive into town and have a pleasant lunch.”
“That sounds lovely,” Julie beamed. “I love antique shops. And I'm starving, too.”
“My friend loves antique shops, and she is starving.” Bethany smiled, and then drew in a deep breath of crisp air that smelled of autumn chimney smoke, pumpkins...and cow manure. “You have a lovely home, and the land is breathtaking.”
“This land was neglected for a long time,” Jill explained. “Jim and I invested every penny we had into this land and the house. We've been here for—”
“Ten years,” Ron called out as he popped open a rusted trunk that smelled of oil and gas.
Jill smiled. “Jim and I used to live in Los Angeles. That's where we met Sarah. Anyway, we can talk later. Let's get you two checked in.”
Jim came hurrying out of the house before Bethany or Julie could say a word. He rushed down to his wife and grabbed her arm. “Uh, inside, now. It’s bad...terrible...oh my...” Jim ran his wife back inside.
“Come on,” Ron fussed, grabbing two green suitcases. “Let's get inside and see what prank they're up to. Knowing those two, whatever it is, it'll be crazy.”
“Come on, love.” Julie patted Bethany's arm and trudged after Ron. “Let's go investigate. It might be fun.”
Bethany stood still a minute instead of following Julie. This land is beautiful...and peaceful. Soon the snow will arrive, and the land will be covered in white. Hot chocolate...sleigh rides...Christmas lights...it'll be so beautiful. Snow Falls is beautiful during the winter...the snow is home. And the people of Snow Falls go to great lengths to make the town look cozy and lovely for Christmas. But there always seems to be something missing. Or maybe something is missing inside of me?
A lazy milk cow lifted its head, looked toward Bethany for a few seconds, and went back to chewing on some brown grass. A powerful gust of wind picked up a pile of leaves and scattered them over the cow’s head. The cow didn't have a care in the world. Any second, someone could appear and attack that cow, but that cow doesn't care. Life must move forward, and that cow knows it. As Bethany stared at the milk cow, her mind replayed the words Sarah had spoken to her weeks before inside O'Mally's. I can't live in fear because if I do, the shadows will win. That silly milk cow is surrounded by a dangerous world, but she's brave enough to stand out in the open and enjoy a beautiful day. A strange anger touched Bethany's heart at that moment. How dare anyone try to make me live in fear? I may live and be free. I will not be scared anymore. If there's shadows waiting for me, so be it. I will not remain imprisoned. Now, it's time to enjoy my vacation. I will not stay caged up. I will enjoy my vacation, even if it kills me.
Bethany drew in a deep, brave breath and started up toward the house. As she did, a horrible scream burst out through the front door. The scream, Bethany realized, was the relative of a corny prank. Bethany could handle Jim’s and Jill's humor. “Oh, brother.”
The sound of an approaching vehicle caught Bethany's attention. She turned around and spotted an old Ford Bronco that had been converted into a sheriff's vehicle.
Sheriff Ben Nayes was on his way to Jim’s and Jill's place to deliver some very interesting news. Murder was back in the air.
Chapter Three
Sheriff Ben Nayes spotted a lovely woman standing beside old Ron's rusted car—a car that should have been hauled off to a junkyard years ago. He carefully parked beside Jim’s and Jill's truck, checked a brown sheriff's uniform that needed some tending to, rubbed his hand over a rough, thin beard, and stepped out into the refreshing autumn wind. “Hello,” he called out to Bethany.
Bethany looked at a ruggedly handsome man who appeared to be her age. “Hello,” she answered politely.
“I'm Sheriff Ben Nayes. People around here just call me Ben.” Ben glanced around. Jim and Jill were probably inside. If old Ron's junker was parked in the driveway, that meant guests were on the scene. The beautiful woman standing beside Ron's car was probably a guest. “Is Jim and Jill Cunningham—”
“Murder!” Jill burst out through the front door screaming her lungs out. “They done killed! Oh, it's horrible!”
Jim ran out after Jill. “Sheriff Nayes, inside. Hurry!” he screamed in a voice that sounded very convincing. “It's blood...everywhere...”
Ben only smiled. “I see you two are practicing. Good,” he told Jim and Jill. “I've come to tell you that you've been approved to turn your bed and breakfast into a murder house. Thought I'd bring you the news myself. County commissioners were really against the issue. The idea of a murder house didn't sit well with many people. I was surprised I didn't see you two at the meeting last night.”
“You know I can't stand those snotty commissioners.” Jim quickly wiped a pair of hands covered with fake blood on his trousers. “Jill and I assumed our request would be shot down, so we didn't waste our time.”
“Well, to be honest, if I hadn't spoken up...” Ben glanced toward Bethany before continuing. “Jim, you and Jill want to have an innocent, fun, murder house—”
“Murder Mystery House,” Jill corrected Ben. She turned to Jim and wiped a pair of red hands on his shirt.
“Murder Mystery House.” Ben nodded. “Well, it didn't seem right to me for our elected officials to be putting up such a fuss simply because they're still sore you have ownership of this land. I also reminded them we live in a free republic and if they denied your request, well, lawsuits might follow because there is plenty of proof that the commissioners have been biased against you in the past. And because we live in a world consumed by social media outlets—and you both know how poisonous I think all social media is—I reminded our elected officials it wouldn't be difficult to throw gas onto a small fire, a fire that would burn them. I also reminded our elected officials that just last month they approved a liquor license request to a shabby pool hall that sits on the outskirts of town while denying you the right to sell raw milk on your land. With elections coming up, and with the races being so close, I think our officials got the point I was trying to convey.”
“Thanks, Ben.” Jim quickly walked over to Ben and shook the man's hand. “You've always been a good friend. You're the only man who has any guts in this county.”
“Hopefully some good people will get voted in,” Ben told Jim. “The five commissioners we have now believe they are set in stone. It's time to get the bad out and the good in. Hay Lake is suffering because of a few bad weeds.”
“The bad news is that most of the people who live in Hay Lake are seasonal. The full-timers are the only ones who vote, and they vote for the same old names because that's all they know.” Jim shook his head. “When winter hits, Hay Lake thins out like a fat buffalo herd being chased by a hungry group of women who have been on Weight Watchers for too long.”
“Hey, I was on Weight Watchers,” said Jill. “And you're not exactly Mr. Slim Jim, Fatso.”
“Fatso...well.” Jim rubbed his plump belly. “Maybe I do like pumpkin pie a bit too much.” He chuckled.
“I'd say you're married to your fat rolls.” Jill walked over to her husband and elbowed his tubby belly. “The stairs are complaining, Jim, and the milk cows are getting jealous.”
Jim chuckled again. He loved Jill's sense of humor, even though it was rough at his expense. “Well, Old Betsy can stay jealous.” He focused on Ben. “Why don't you come in for a cup of coffee and a slice of, uh, pumpkin pie?”
“Sounds good.” Ben glanced at Bethany.
“Oh, Ben, meet Ms. Bethany Lights. She's visiting us all the way from Snow Falls, Alaska,” Jill quickly blurted out. “Bethany is Sarah Garland—uh, Spencer's—friend. I keep forgetting that Sarah married that cop from New York.”
Ben was aware of who Sarah was. Sarah was the famous detective who took down the Back Alley Killer with help from Amanda Hardcastle. “You're a long way from home, Ms. Lights. Sometimes I wonder how people end up here in Hay Lake?”
“Sarah suggested I visit,” Bethany answered, keeping her voice polite. “I'm visiting with a friend, Julie Walsh.”
“Julie is British,” Jill cut in. “Pretty as a button, too.” She quickly scooted over to Bethany. “Ben is currently single...hint, hint.”
A loud moan left Ben's mouth. “Jill, if you don't beat everything.”
Jim laughed. “My wife isn't very subtle, Ben, you know that. She's been trying to marry you off for the last five years.”
“Ever since you finally wised up and divorced that spider you were married to,” Jill added.
Ben quickly rubbed the back of his neck. “Ms. Lights,” he spoke directly to Bethany, “I was married...been divorced for the last five years. And as you can see, Jill Cunningham is determined to marry me off again. So far she's tried to set me up on about a thousand blind dates.”
“Well, why not?” Jill threw her hands up into the air. “You're a handsome man, Ben. A man like you shouldn't be alone. What are you, Sheriff Andy Taylor raising Opie or something? You don't even have a kid, for crying out loud!”
“I have Aunt Bee,” Ben teased.
Jill walked over to Ben and kicked him in the leg. “Nola Rogers is a horrible woman. Never mention her name!”
Jim laughed again. “My wife was sore that Nola Rogers took the blue ribbon for best apple pie.”
“I'd say she is still sore,” Ben moaned in pain.
“Nola Rogers cheats somehow!” Jill snapped her arms together. “Someday, I will prove that woman has been cheating all these years and you will arrest her.”
“I can't arrest my aunt, Jill.” Ben rubbed his leg. “Jim, how about that coffee, huh?”
Before anyone could move or say another word, a fancy gray Ford truck came speeding up the driveway. Jim placed a hand over his eyes, studied the truck, and shook his head. “Richard Banks is paying us a visit.”
Jill stepped close to her husband. “Trouble is brewing, Pa. We best get the cows in.” She spoke in a voice meant to sound silly, but there was a hint of concern.
“Let me handle Richard,” Ben cautioned. “Ms. Lights, you better get inside.”
“No, we might need a witness,” Jim warned.
Before Ben could object, the fancy Ford truck slid to a stop, causing a small dust cloud, and a tall, scrawny, angry man wearing an expensive gray suit jumped out like a wet hornet. “I was told you were here, Ben! How dare you threaten my wife!” Richard Banks stormed up to Ben, throwing a boney finger in the air. “I knew I should have attended the meeting last night! I thought it was an open-and-shut matter! You had no right to interfere!”
Ben narrowed his eyes as Bethany tensed. “Lower your finger,” he warned Richard.
“You're a tough guy, huh?” Richard snapped, speaking in a thick Boston accent. “You don't scare me. The only reason you're sheriff is because you—”
“Because people respect me,” Ben answered in a fierce growl. “Richard, you're trespassing on private property. Leave.”
“This was my land!” Richard yelled at Ben. “Those two jokers stole this land from me and you know it!”
“This was never your land, Richard. The land went up for auction and Mr. and Mrs. Cunningham bought this land fair and square.” Ben stepped in front of Jim and Jill protectively. “Now I told you to leave.”
