The Maestro (Cold Hollow Mysteries Book 3) (4 page)

The chief’s eyebrows rose. “Sweet Jesus, Myrna, that’s vandalism! You’re also talking about a big-time investigation into someone who might be innocent.”

Myrna displayed a sly grin. “In this town, everyone is guilty until proven innocent, Chief. You have two weeks to find Tilly.” She returned to her paperwork and glanced up to see the chief leaving her office. She contemplated the notion that if the chief didn’t want to flatten Reginald’s tires, she wouldn’t mind getting a little frustration out of her system. With a little ingenuity, she could also get his fingerprints and a blood sample at the bakery, if she set her mind to it. She was already subconsciously in the planning stages. She was not going to let a damn thing, particularly not a newcomer, ruin her special day.

***

“Scoop the shit, shovel the shit, spread the shit!” Reginald mumbled as he spread the hay and manure over the pumpkin patches. He had already gathered fresh eggs, boxed them, and put them in storage for delivery. Milking the cows was easy and relaxing. Feeding the chickens while fighting off the ornery rooster was a problem, but he gave it a good kick and didn’t think it would bother him anymore. He couldn’t believe he had lowered his standards to this level, but he had to play it smart. He only had to stay put in this town for a month or so, and then he would be free to meander throughout the United States again, cautiously avoiding those states where he had committed prior crimes.

As he spread the manure, he checked to see that the sheep were content and grazing. The farm owner had two fine chestnut horses, and they were grazing along with the sheep. He had more chores on his daily list, and when he saw the owner in the gardens, harvesting vegetables, it reminded him that he had to help her after he was done mucking all the stalls.

As he returned to the barn with the wheelbarrow, his mind wound back to the previous night. That nosy little teenage girl had been hanging around the farm lately, pestering him. He thought her name was Tilly. She would not leave him alone. She had bothered him to go hiking on the trails so much that he had finally agreed. He met the bunch of teens and rolled his eyes so much at their conversations it made him dizzy. When Tilly had insisted they veer onto another interesting trail, he followed her, but her constant chattering brought him to madness. He was not interested in her. She was far too young and foolish, but he needed the fresh air and change of scenery from the farm. He had tolerated her buzzing about him like a fly…until he snapped. He shoved her, she fell, and he left the trails via a small path.

He had walked home and enjoyed the silence and the remainder of the evening in front of the television with a take-out pizza and some beer. He remembered turning to the bedroom door and saying, “Shut up!”

He heard a reply from the darkened room: “I’m not even talking, moron. I’m reading a book.”

After reminiscing, he continued his farm chores, scooped up more hay and manure, and swore if Tilly showed up at the farm today, he was going to give her a tongue-lashing that would send her running home and sobbing into her Hello Kitty pillow for five days.

CHAPTER 5

Time was slipping away from Maurice Gillette. Delilah was making gigantic strides, but he wished for one more week before leaving for New England. However, it was not to be. They had to leave the following morning in order to arrive on time. They had spent the past week shopping, going to the home office, going to social events, and out to dine. Maurice wanted to see how she did in public, and so far, she was impressive. At the home office, she was given the title “Vice President of Operations” and squealed with delight. She commanded respect but was always kind and courteous unless someone angered her. That was when Maurice had to intervene. It had only happened once; he had spoken to her about it, and she had promised to control herself better but couldn’t promise that it wouldn’t happen again. She didn’t want to be considered a softie who could be walked on and taken advantage of, and Maurice agreed.

They would leave the following morning, and he had many things to tend to before then. As he was packing his suitcase, Delilah breezed into his room, her blond hair loose and recently curled. “Father, do you think I should bring this outfit just in case we do something fun? I don’t think all my outfits should be formal.”

Maurice looked at the outfit she showed him. It was a nice, comfortable pair of denim jeans and a navy blue cardigan, and she had a stylish pair of hiking boots in her hand. He nodded. “You have a point, dear. I think I’ll pack two outfits that are similar. I hear there are farms and orchards there that we might visit, and I think that we should ‘dress down’ and be comfortable every now and then.” He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t forget, we must be accommodating to your brother and his intended. We must put their needs first and assist them. Wedding planning can be a formidable task, and I do believe they may require our assistance.”

“Adam is in his room packing too. Should I tell him to pack the same?”

“Definitely. Also, tell him he should pack a few appropriate suits and outfits, such as we are doing.”

“Do you think he even owns a pair of denims?”

Maurice chuckled. “I doubt it. He’s Italian and likes to dress like a ‘wise guy’ all the time. If he doesn’t, we can see to his needs in the morning.”

Delilah raced from his room, shouting over her shoulder, “I’ll tell him what to pack and check out what he already shoved in his suitcase to make sure it’s not wrinkled.”

Maurice got back on task and packed two pairs of denim jeans, comfortable stylish sneakers, and two long-sleeved silk shirts. He threw a cardigan in the suitcase as well. He was almost relieved they were driving to their destination. He hated to take such a risk with Delilah on an airplane. He could only imagine being confined in a metal transport at thirty-four thousand feet cruising altitude with her when she had a dark urge. It would turn ugly…fast. The safest thing for all concerned was to drive. He didn’t mind; they could make brief stops along the way, and they could pass the time listening to audio books or classical music. If all else failed, he would tell some nursery rhymes. Like Adam, Delilah was a fan of his storytelling and embellishing capabilities.

The following morning, after a hearty breakfast and after the house staff and security had been left their instructions for the next two weeks or so, they were off. Adam and Delilah were beyond excited and chattered endlessly during the car ride. Maurice enjoyed their conversations. He would only instruct Adam where to stop when he knew nourishment was in order. At one stop, Maurice insisted on taking Adam into a high-end clothing store. This was the highlight of their trip. Delilah chose denims and shirts for Adam and made him put on a fashion show for them. Maurice could not remember laughing as hard as he did that day, and Delilah was giggling so hard she had to race to the women’s room. He swore she was picking out garish outfits just to make everyone laugh.

“Boss, I ain’t a kid anymore, you know.” The heavyset man stood before Maurice in denim jeans, a bold Hawaiian print shirt, and stylish short boots.

Maurice held his hand over his mouth to hide his smile and nodded. From behind his hand, he said, “Lose the shirt, we’re not going to the tropics. Get a colored T-shirt and a cardigan to put on over it. Keep the short boots and jeans; they look nice.”

As Adam turned to find the items, he said, “Do I have to pick out two outfits?”

“It’s apparent that Delilah is the fashionista on this road trip, so if I were you, I would do as she requests.”

He heard Adam groan as he walked around the clothing racks. “I better get to hear a nursery rhyme for this hell you’re both putting me through.”

Maurice wiped the tears of laughter from his eyes and agreed to his request. Delilah returned and assisted Adam while promising not to make him try on any more ridiculous outfits. They left the store relieved and a little hungry. Maurice spotted a fine dining restaurant, and they made their way inside.

After filling their stomachs, they hit the road again. Maurice told them rhyme after rhyme, much to their delight. Once again, laughter filled the car as he embellished “Georgie Porgie,” “Three Blind Mice,” and “Ring Around the Rosie.” When he finished these off with, “There Was an Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe,” he hesitated at his last line. He watched Adam point to Delilah in the front passenger seat and say, “Wait for it, Delilah. Wait for the finale.”

Maurice grinned and said, “Adam, the old woman who lived in a shoe was an aged whore with no access to birth control.”

Adam hunched over the steering wheel in a fit of hard laughter as Delilah shrieked and laughed at his reaction. Maurice simply sat in the backseat, legs crossed and hands clasped. He wore a delightful, devilish smile.

After roughly ten hours of driving that day and supper that evening, Maurice could see that Adam needed rest. They stayed overnight in Massachusetts and headed out at first light. The remainder of the ride had Delilah’s nerves on edge. She was eager to get to Cold Hollow, Vermont, and could barely sit still. Her foot was tapping the floorboard, she kept flicking her hair around her head, and her fingers strummed on the armrests.

Maurice asked softly from the backseat, “Delilah, you are twitching. Do you want to take one of your mild sedatives so you can relax and perhaps nap for the final leg of our journey?”

She twisted in her seat, the belt restraining her from staring directly at her father. “Do you think I should?”

He raised his eyebrows. “I think I can split the pill in half and perhaps just give you a milder dose. I can see you twitching and becoming anxious. It wouldn’t be a bad idea.”

She nodded, and he rummaged through one of his smaller travel bags, found the medication, and split the pill in half. He handed it to her with a bottle of water and watched as she swallowed it. She turned again, opened her mouth, and raised her tongue to prove she had swallowed it. Maurice zipped his bag up and sat back, relaxed. “Adam, please play some soothing music for Delilah.” He watched as Delilah reached over and chose the music; soon, soft flowing melodies filled the car. Delilah sat back, head against the headrest, and he could tell by her posture that the medication hadn’t taken long to work on his daughter.

The remainder of the trip up north was uneventful and quiet. Delilah had fallen asleep, and the soothing music she had chosen lulled everyone into a relaxed state. That all changed when Maurice saw a sign that read
Welcome to Cold Hollow
and let loose a sigh of relief. He watched as they went through a covered bridge. The sight before his eyes was breathtaking, and he said, “Adam, please pull over to the side of the road.”

Adam did as he was told and put the vehicle in park. Maurice nudged Delilah, smiled, and said, “Wake up, honey. We’re here.”

Delilah sprang up and gazed out the window. She fought with her seat belt, grabbed her camera, and jumped from the vehicle. Maurice followed, and soon Adam cut the engine and joined them.

They stood at a split-rail fence surrounding a large farm. When they turned to the right, they saw an orchard spread far and wide with various ripened fruits fit to be picked. Delilah dared Adam to jump the fence so she could get a good shot of him in the farm’s grazing field. Maurice laughed and said, “Come on, Adam. I’ll go with you.” Delilah was filled with glee when both men straddled the fence and stood posing in the field. She could see what was heading straight for them, but they had their backs to it. When they heard hooves beating, both men spun around to see two chestnut horses bolting toward them. Delilah was uproarious with laughter as she watched them scurry for the fence and try to get to the other side. Her camera never stopped taking shots of them. The horses stopped at the fence, and Delilah reached out and scratched the sides of their faces. Adam was trembling, and Maurice was busy soothing him.

Delilah turned to Adam. “They are harmless, Adam. Come and scratch their ears, they love it.”

Adam advanced and began running his big hands over their heads, scratching their ears and patting their long necks. He turned to Maurice. “Come on, boss, let go and have some fun.” Maurice relented and stepped forward.

They heard a female voice shouting in the fields and noticed a red-haired woman approaching them at a quick pace. Adam wiggled his eyebrows at Maurice and whispered, “I just love redheads, boss.”

“I’ve heard they are hot tempered.”

Adam chuckled. “Yep, they’re a challenge for any man, and I never shirk from a challenge. You should know that by now.” He stood tall, puffed out his chest, and straightened his suit coat.

Delilah pretended to gag but stopped when Maurice nudged her.

The red-haired woman approached and stood between the two horses. Her hands were on her hips as she looked at each of them from head to toe. “Well, you are the best-looking bunch of tourists I’ve seen in this town all week. What brings you here?”

Maurice stepped forward and extended his hand. “My name is Maurice Gillette. We’re here for my son’s nuptials.”

She shook his hand and gave him a broad smile. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Fran O’Connor. Your son is the grandest doctor in town, and that fiancée of his is a corker! Have you met her yet?”

Maurice replied, “No, and we are anxious to see everyone. If you would be so kind, could you give us directions to their home?”

The woman yanked a small notepad and short pencil from her jacket and scratched out the directions. Adam stepped forward and plucked it from her hand when she was done, and her eyes widened at his boldness. Adam extended his hand and said, “I’m Adam Petrone. I’m the…” He was at a loss of what to say, so Maurice helped him.

“He is a close family friend and dear to us all.”

They watched as Fran gave him the once-over, tilted her head as her eyes met his, and said, “You’re quite a looker. Did anyone ever tell you that?”

Adam chuckled, blushed, and replied, “On one or two occasions.”

She shot back, “I mean, someone besides your mum.”

Delilah and Maurice burst out in laughter. Fran began chuckling and took another step forward and playfully swatted Adam’s arm. “I’m just teasing you.”

“I know.”

She then turned her attention to Delilah and asked, “Do you like animals? You have a way with my horses. You’re so pretty, it’s no wonder they took to you.”

Delilah displayed a broad smile and nodded. “Thank you, and I do. I love all types of animals. Although we don’t have any pets at home, I still love them.”

The woman nodded briskly and said, “Then I insist that once you get comfortable in town, you come by here and spend a day at the farm. We’ll have fun, and you’ll all get to pet, feed, or just play with the livestock.” She pointed across the road toward the orchards and continued, “You’d also be a fool if you didn’t visit that orchard and pick some fresh fruit. Artie Lavoie has the freshest stuff around. Up the road, there’s a maple syrup stand, and you’ll probably want to stock up and bring some back home with you.”

Maurice replied, “We have plenty of time to spend here, and I cannot thank you enough for your kind invitation and directions. I wish you a most pleasant day, Frances O’Connor.” He turned back toward the car with Delilah in tow.

Fran looked at Adam and wagged her head side to side as she put a hand to the side of her mouth and whispered, “Pretty high class, huh?”

Adam laughed and nodded as he turned toward the car. “We’ll see you soon, Frannie O’Connor.”

She put her fingertips to her lips and yelled back, “It’s Fran, just Fran.”

Adam replied, “I like Frannie better.” He started the engine and pulled onto the road he assumed was Main Street. They admired the small brick shops lining both sides of the street, with their elaborate columns and front porches. Each shop had a different-patterned, coordinating awning over its large window front. The tallest peaks of the mountains embraced the entire back of the town. From there, the peaks wound down and extended to encompass the farmlands and orchards. There were streets branching off Main Street, containing old farmhouses painted varying colors. Each one had a spacious yard. All of them commented on and were impressed with the quaint small town. Delilah read the directions off the paper to Adam as he drove, and before long, they were parked in the driveway of a massive log home.