Chapter 18
“Would you be interested in purchasing a set of our snowcapped, cone-shaped pines for your Christmas village, Mrs. Powell?” Connie Sparks asked, desperately trying to change the subject.
Hayley had only moments before asked Connie if she would confirm that she was having an affair with the late Garth Rawlings.
Connie's face turned red with embarrassment and her skin matched most of the decor in Mrs. Claus's Christmas Village Shop, where she worked as a seasonal employee during the holidays.
Hayley knew the owner of the shop, Cindy Callahan, a former Delta Airlines flight attendant who retired to Bar Harbor and bought the Starfish Diner. Cindy's impressive business know-how had turned the failing coffee shop around, and it was now a must stop for the locals, who flocked to the diner for a plate of the famous blueberry pancakes and a cup of fresh coffee. Not one just to sit around and savor her success, Cindy rented some space next door and opened a holiday shop that specialized in Christmas decorations. Cindy loved Christmas villages and so she made sure to stock the place with sets that included such village staples as Santa's workshop, the Holiday Bed-and-Breakfast, churches, bridges, and a bakery. There was also a handcrafted limited-edition electric train for sale, which circled around the store over a bridge and through a tunnel and back around again.
“Did you hear what I said, Connie?” Hayley asked, folding her arms.
Connie nodded and then reached down and picked up a porcelain figurine. “We have Rudolph for sale. And if you buy all of the other reindeer, we can give you a ten percent discount.”
“Connieâ”
“Please, Mrs. Powell, don't ask me that again!”
There was a brief silence, interrupted only by the train whistling as it passed by them.
“If you don't talk to me, you're going to have to talk to Chief Alvares.”
“What?” Connie gasped. Her hands were shaking so badly that she dropped the poor Rudolph figurine and it smashed into pieces on the floor.
“I asked him to let me come speak with you first because I know how traumatic it might be for you if Chief Alvares hauled you into the police station for questioning. Someone could spot you in the back of the squad car or see you being led into the station, and then you would have to endure all that speculation as to why you were arrested.”
“
Arrested?
I'm going to be arrested?”
“Oh, no, of course not. But you know how gossip flies around in this town.”
“I know what I did wasn't right, but I didn't break the law,” Connie said, nervously twisting her bright red curly hair around her finger.
“So you admit you were having an affair with Garth Rawlings?”
Another long silence.
And then more whistling as the train passed by again.
Connie finally nodded.
“And he had a key to the warehouse made for you so you two could rendezvous there. You just pretended to be a catering client so as not to arouse suspicion.”
Connie nodded again.
She pulled a wadded-up tissue out of the side pocket of the Christmas wreath holiday sweater she was wearing and wiped away the tears streaming down her cheeks before blowing her nose with a loud honk.
“He didn't want anyone finding out about us. He was worried about his image because he was trying to market himself as the âFamily Man Chef.' He had the whole thing planned outâTV show, cookbooks, a kitchenware line with Macy's. It would be inconvenient if people found out he was cheating on his wife and sleeping with a girl half his age.”
“That must have been very difficult for you.”
Connie shook her head and wiped her nose. “I didn't mind. I loved him. I know he had a temper and could rub people the wrong way, but he was very kind to me and made me feel special.”
“Did you see him on the night he died?”
“No. He told me he had too much to do preparing for his weekend parties and opening up the warehouse to the public for Midnight Madness. I knew he had hired you to help him, so I made sure to steer clear.”
“So you were nowhere near the warehouse that night? You never used your key to let yourself inside at any point?”
“No. I was at home with my roommate. She'll vouch for me. We decorated our little tree and then made sugar cookies and watched some old cheesy Christmas movie rerun on Hallmark or Lifetime with Tori Spelling.”
“Did you lend anyone your key?”
“No. I had it on me the whole time.”
Hayley's cell phone chirped.
She checked the caller ID.
It was Sergio.
“Excuse me, Connie, I need to take this.”
Hayley walked a few feet away, trying to get out of Connie's earshot.
She answered the call and talked in a hushed tone. “Hey, Sergio. I'm with Connie Sparks now. She says she was home with her roommate the night of Garth's murder. So, if you want me to follow up and talk to the roommateâ”
“You don't have to. She's telling you the truth.”
“How do you know?”
“I'm at the Grand Hotel, which has security cameras setup outside. The warehouse is directly across the street, so the cameras pick up everyone coming and going. I just finished looking at all of the footage. Connie Sparks was never there that night.”
“What about Lex's crew next door? Did they ever come outside for any reason?”
“No. They were inside their own office the whole time and never had any interaction with Garth.”
“So they're telling the truth too. They were playing music and drinking and didn't hear a thing.”
“The only two people the camera picks up outside the warehouse is Garth letting himself in, around eleven in the morning, and then you showing up around seven that evening when Garth Rawlings was already dead. No one else ever entered or exited Garth's kitchen space the whole day.”
“Then who could have killed him? The Ghost of Christmas Past?”
“Who's that? Do you have any contact information for that person?”
How do you say in Portuguese that it's
A Christmas Carol
reference?
“Never mind. I'll see you later for dinner.”
Hayley ended the call and turned back to Connie, who was pretending not to listen while she rearranged some figurines of children skating on an ice rink in the village set up as a window display.
“You're in the clear, Connie. The chief is not going to need to question you.”
“Thank you, Hayley.”
Hayley smiled at her. “Merry Christmas.”
She was halfway to the door when Connie spoke up. “I could never do anything to hurt Garth. He seemed so strong on the outside, but inside he was very sensitive.”
Hayley found that hard to believe, but why argue? “I'm sure he was.”
“I loved him. I wanted to protect him. He had been hurt enough already.”
That stopped Hayley.
She spun around.
“What do you mean by that? Who hurt him?”
“That awful wife of his,” Connie spat out.
“Tiffany?”
“Yes. That coldhearted bitch broke his heart. Garth and I were just friends at first, but then he confided in me what he was going through, and I helped him through the pain of his wife's betrayal. It was only later that we developed romantic feelings for each otherâwhen Garth knew his marriage was basically over.”
“You're telling me Tiffany cheated on him
first
?”
Connie's eyes narrowed as she vigorously nodded her head.
“With whom? Can you tell me a name?”
“No. Garth never mentioned a name.”
Hayley sighed. “Okay.”
“Just that they were former business partners.”
Business partners? Ken Massey.
The grieving widow was sleeping with the ex-business partner with a grudge.
The whole case was starting to come into focus in a big way.
But the million-dollar question remained.
If Ken and Tiffany did conspire to kill Garth for his budding cooking empire, how on earth did they do it?
Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell
I have this habit of marking every occasion by what entrees and goodies were consumed. Last year's Fourth of July party in my brother Randy's backyard? A German potato salad recipe from Mona's aunt. September's Labor Day potluck fund-raiser for the church? A creamy spinach dip from Reverend Staples's wife, Edie. Mona's annual holiday party in early December? Chocolate rum balls. I swear, George Clooney could crash Mona's party and all I would remember were the nine chocolate rum balls I ate that were brought by Mona's cousin Tammy down visiting from Pittsfield.
Last year's holiday party I made my delectable onion Brie palmiers. Actually, last year I remember more than just what food I broughtâno matter how hard I have tried to forget. You see, Liddy had returned recently from a trip to China. Actually, to clarify, Liddy had recently returned from a trip to Chinatown in New York, but she thought telling everybody she had been to China sounded far more exotic and glamorous. She brought with her a box of large Chinese lanterns. Her plan was to light all of the small discs inside, which would heat and inflate the lanterns; then we could watch in awe as they lit up and floated up into the night sky. It was Liddy's attempt to give Mona's soiree an international flavor.
Not to be outdone by that show-off Liddy, Mona trekked to the new fireworks store in Bangor and purchased a load of firecrackers to add her own special touch to what was fast becoming a Chinese-themed holiday party. Fireworks were finally legal in Maine, but, unfortunately, the Bar Harbor City Council had recently voted not to allow them to be lit off in the town. Mona was either unaware of this new law or chose to ignore it. She arrived home with a box full of them.
Well, the party was in full swing. The Christmas punch was flowing freely as the adults laughed and competed to tell the best stories (the same ones they told every year). The food table looked like a war zone as the kids fought for every last scrap. It was safe to say a good time was being had by all!
It was a beautiful, cold, cloudless night, with the stars shining bright, and Liddy ordered us to venture outside to light up our large globelike Chinese lanterns. After a few false starts with a faulty lighter, we finally got them glowing. They slowly floated up into the sky, which was followed by lots of “oohing and aahing” from both the children and the adults. Well, Mona decided the time was right to follow this up with her fireworks. She and her husband grabbed fistfuls from the box and started setting them off up into the night sky. The kids howled with delight at the loud booms and flashes of light. It was just like Disney World!
That's right about the time all hell broke loose. As I've mentioned on many occasions, almost everyone who lives in Bar Harbor has a police scanner. And when residents began spotting these giant glowing orbs in the sky, a few peopleâokay, to be more accurate, hundreds of peopleâimmediately assumed our quaint little town was under attack by aliens. To make matters worse, everybody thought the booming noises from the firecrackers were the aliens destroying the island. It was a full-on invasion! People feared that the Town Hall had been blown up like the White House in that movie
Independence Day
! Except Will Smith was not here to save us by infecting the aliens' ship with a simple computer virus, which was always hard to swallow, if you ask me.
My brother, Randy, and his partner, Sergio, who is the chief of police, had to leave the party because the dispatcher at the station was overwhelmed by the huge volume of 911 emergency calls. We continued on with our merriment, blissfully unaware of what was happening.
Another thing about our little town: Whenever anything slightly dramatic happens, half the town jumps in their cars and races to the scene. Well, it didn't take long for them to pinpoint the center of the alien invasion, and soon Eagle Lake Road, where Mona's house was situated, was clogged with traffic as people drove slowly past the house, hanging out the windows, craning their necks to get a good look at the alien ships hovering above and apparently firing upon Acadia National Park.
Mona's guests still did not have a clear picture of the drama unfolding outside until we heard the sound of the sirens approaching. Mona, Liddy, and I exchanged nervous glances, hoping the squad cars would pass right by the house. By the grace of God, we got our Christmas miracle. The cruisers zipped past us and the sirens faded into the night. But our elation was cut short when Sergio returned and informed us of the commotion our Chinese lanterns and fireworks had caused. Mona hid in the bathroom, fearing an arrest was imminent, but Sergio just shook his head and suggested we just call it a night. (Insert a big sigh of relief.)
It was hard keeping quiet about how we had nearly caused a riot, especially when the front-page story in the paper two days later reported possible UFO sightings and strange lights and sounds above Acadia National Park. People talked about it for months before the hoopla finally died down around Memorial Day. So now I'm fessing up to my role in the Bar Harbor UFO story that blew up one Christmas Eve, not so long ago.
I remember that night as if it were yesterday. And, of course, I remember what dishes I made, which I will share with you here. But first let's get the holiday party started with a Christmas punch that will knock your reindeer socks off!
Â
Â
Christmas Eve Punch
Â
Ingredients
2 cups water
¾ cup sugar
½ teaspoon ground cinnamon
4 cups chilled cranberry/apple juice
1 46-ounce can chilled pineapple juice
1 liter chilled ginger ale
In a large saucepan bring your water, sugar, and cinnamon to a boil, stirring to dissolve the sugar. Chill. Before you serve, add the sugar water mixture, chilled juices, and ginger ale to a large punch bowl. Serve in party glasses over ice.
Â
Â
Hayley's Onion Brie Palmier
Â
Ingredients
2 medium onions, thinly sliced
3 tablespoons butter
2 tablespoons brown sugar
½ teaspoon white wine vinegar
1 sheet puff pastry, room temperature
4 ounces of your favorite Brie cheese, softened (remove rind)
2 teaspoons caraway seeds
1 egg
2 teaspoons water
Â
In a large skillet cook your onions in the butter, brown sugar, and vinegar over medium low heat until the onions are golden brown, stirring frequently. Remove the onions with a slotted spoon; cool to room temperature.
On a lightly floured surface, roll your puff pastry into an 11-inch x 8-inch rectangle. Spread the softened Brie cheese over the pastry. Cover the cheese with the onions; sprinkle with the caraway seeds.
Roll up one long side to the middle, and the other side to the middle, so you have two rolls. Using a serrated knife, cut the rolls into ½-inch slices. Place them on a parchment-paper-lined baking sheet and flatten to about a ¼-inch thickness. Put in the refrigerator for about 15 minutes.
Preheat your oven to 375 degrees. In a small bowl beat an egg and some water; remove your onion Brie palmiers from the refrigerator and brush the egg mixture over the tops. Bake for 12 to 14 minutes until puffed and golden brown. Serve warm and enjoy!