Chapter 30
The screen door squeaked as someone opened it and rattled the knob on the back door. It swung open fast. Hayley and Hugo jumped as Nick Ward, Lex's contracting foreman, entered the house and stepped into the light of the kitchen.
“Sorry, didn't mean to scare you,” Nick said.
Hayley clutched her heart. “No, it's okay, Nick. I just didn't expect to see you here.”
“That makes two of us,” Nick said, smiling thinly.
“I just came by to have a little chat with Hugo,” Hayley said, picking up the pizza box off the floor and setting it down on the counter.
“I see,” Nick said, glancing at Hugo, who averted his eyes and stared at the scuffed brown snow boots he was wearing.
“I called Nick on my cell and told him I was coming here right before you showed up, Mrs. Powell,” Hugo mumbled.
“He sounded upset and embarrassed about running out on the pageant the way he did. I wanted to swing by and make sure he got home safely. Maybe get him to share some of that pizza,” Nick said, eyeing the pizza box from Little Anthony's.
“Well, help yourself,” Hayley said. “And don't worry about driving Hugo home. I can do it. Where do you live, Hugo?”
“No bother at all. It will give Hugo and me a chance to talk over a few things. Work stuff. Lex is on the mend and planning to come back to the office tomorrow, so things have gotten much busier. You know how he likes to crack the whip.”
“I sure do,” Hayley said. “It's just that Hugo and I have an errand to run before I take him home.”
“What kind of errand?” Nick asked, crossing to the counter and flipping open the pizza box.
There was no point in lying to him.
He would find out eventually.
“We're going to go to the police station and have a talk with Chief Alvares,” Hayley said calmly, even though her stomach was doing flip-flops.
“Is that so?” Nick said, biting into a slice of pizza, the grease from the pepperoni dribbling down the side of his mouth.
Hugo shoved his hands in his pants pocket and kept his eyes glued to the floor.
Nick casually stepped closer to Hayley.
Not too close.
Just enough to make her nervous.
Hayley cleared her throat. “Hugo may have some information for him.”
“About what?” Nick asked, picking a wad of cheese off the top of his pizza slice and dropping it into his mouth.
“Garth Rawlings's death,” Hayley said, taking a small step back away from Nick.
“Such a tragedy,” Nick said, shaking his head.
“Someone so young and talented.
This
close to being famous. For his life to be snuffed out like that, just a real shame.”
“Yes, it is. It's hard to imagine someone murdering him.”
“Well, personally, I'm not so sure it
was
murder. The facts just don't add up from what I've been reading in Bruce Linney's column,” Nick said, glaring at Hugo.
“The coroner's findings prove otherwise,” Hayley said.
“You mean Sabrina Merryweather? I think Garth's wife should demand a second opinion, if you ask me.”
“Are you questioning Sabrina's competence?”
“Why shouldn't I? You certainly have in the past, as I recall,” he said, with a smug look on his face.
He was right.
Hayley had embarrassed Sabrina in a previous case.
And it nearly destroyed their friendship.
Or whatever word you would use to define their relationship.
“Friendship” might be a little too generous.
“You mind me asking what big revelation you're going to provide to the police now, Hugo?” Nick almost growled as he ripped off a thick piece of pizza crust with his teeth and began violently chewing it.
Hugo finally raised his eyes to meet Nick's, and Hayley saw the kid nearly shudder.
“That's between Hugo and Chief Alvares,” Hayley said. “Let's go, Hugo.”
She wanted to get them both out of there.
Nick Ward wasn't just making her nervous now.
He was scaring her.
“Is that what you want, Hugo? You want to go with Hayley?” Nick said, locking eyes with the boy, stone-faced.
“No. IâI changed my mind,” Hugo stammered.
“What?” Hayley asked, spinning around to him.
“I've got nothing to say. I don't know anything. The chief can arrest me all he wants for obstruction of whatever, but I can't tell him what I don't know.”
“Let's talk about this in my car,” Hayley said, putting a hand on his arm.
“No!” Hugo barked, jerking his arm away from her. “I want to go with Nick.”
Nick Ward was now on his second slice of pizza and feeling empowered by his own impressive intimidation skills. “You heard the boy, Hayley. But not to worry. I'll take good care of him and make sure he gets home safe and sound.”
Nick put a thick, sinewy arm around Hugo's neck and drew him out the back door, determined to get the kid as far away from Hayley as possible.
Hayley could only watch them go and then kick herself for not getting Hugo out of there faster.
She was now certain of one thing: Hugo knew something that could incriminate Nick in the death of Garth Rawlings.
But Nick wasn't a ghost. He couldn't just pass through a wall into a locked warehouse and beat Garth to a pulp without leaving any marks or any signs of a struggle.
It was Nick. It has to be.
She felt it in her gut.
But how did he do it?
Chapter 31
“Oh, man, this is good,” Aaron moaned as he slid the moist cake off his fork and into his mouth. “What is it?”
“Holiday spice cake with eggnog buttercream,” Hayley said, sipping coffee from her Christmas Kermit and Miss Piggy coffee mug she had been given one year in an office Secret Santa exchange.
Aaron smiled, savoring every bite of the cake. When all that was left on his plate were a few scattered crumbs, Hayley cut him a second piece.
She had spent all Saturday afternoon baking the cake and roasting a turkey and whipping up all of Aaron's favorite side dishes. She knew Gemma would be out late at a wrap party for the Nativity pageant, and Dustin was spending the night at his buddy Spanky's house, so she seized upon the opportunity to serve Aaron a romantic dinner.
She had gone all out.
And he was basically surrendering to her efforts.
Which was made clear when he set his fork down and leaned in for a kiss.
His eyes closed. His lips pursed.
Looking dashing in a handsome red cashmere half-zip sweater.
The faint smell of a masculine aftershave wafting in the air.
Their lips touched and Aaron gently placed a hand on the back of Hayley's neck, drawing her closer until they were in a tight embrace.
They were picking up where they had left off that night they wrapped presents around the Christmas tree after the kids had gone to bed.
But there were no kids in the house this evening to make Hayley feel awkward and uncomfortable.
She had gone to great lengths to plan this date perfectly.
And to her relief and joy, it was working.
Until they heard loud banging at the front door.
“Who could that be? I'm not expecting anybody,” Hayley said, almost to herself, as she pulled away from Aaron and stood up. “I'll be right back.”
Aaron smiled ruefully, frustrated this long-awaited moment had been interrupted. He picked up his fork and began dabbing at the last bits of cake pieces on his dessert plate.
Hayley walked through the living room to the foyer and out onto the porch, where she unlocked the door and opened it to find Lex standing on the steps, still walking with crutches. His cheeks were rosy from the cold air, and he wore a plaid flannel shirt jacket and a gray earflap tracker hat.
He took the hat off at the sight of Hayley.
Always the gentleman.
Hayley gave him a puzzled look. “Lex, is anything wrong?”
“Yes, Hayley, there is. I'd like to come in and talk to you about it, if you don't mind.”
“Well, actually, now is not a good timeâ”
“Why? Something up with the kids?”
“No, it's not that. The kids are fine. It's just . . .”
She glanced nervously back in the direction of the dining room.
Lex plowed ahead, not really listening to what she was saying. “I got a call from Hugo tonight. Poor kid was a basket case. He was worried the cops were going to show up at his house at any moment and arrest him right in front of his parents. He said it was you who told him he was going to go to jail.”
“I was just trying to convince him that it would be in his best interest to talk to Sergio about the Garth Rawlings murder.”
“What the hell does that poor kid know about the Garth Rawlings murder?”
“I don't know, but he knows something. My guess is he saw what happened and is covering for the murderer.”
“Who?”
“Nick Ward.”
“My foreman, Nick? Hayley, are you crazy? Nick has worked for me for years. I know the guy like he's my own brother. There's no way he's capable of violence.”
“It was no secret he and Garth didn't like each other. Garth was always complaining about the noise coming from your workshop.”
“Yeah, they butted heads a few times. Garth Rawlings was a highfalutin, self-obsessed, irritating jerk! I didn't think much of him either! That doesn't mean I'd do anything to harm him physically. My crew, Nick, Billy, Hugo, they're all decent, genuine, solid guys, Hayley. There's no way they had anything to do with this, so I want you to do me a favor and stop harassing them.”
“I'm not
harassing
them, Lex.”
“Seriously? You expect me to believe that? We were together almost two years, Hayley. I know how you get when you're focused on solving a mystery!”
“Yes! And the reason I can't let it go is because your intern, Hugo, is hiding something! I can feel it in my bones!”
“Fine! If he is, then let the cops bring him in for questioning! But guess what? If Sergio had anything,
anything,
tying one of my guys to the crime, he would've done that already! He's got nothing! And from what I've heard around town, he still doesn't even have a clue how it happened!”
“Everything all right out here?”
Hayley spun around to see Aaron staring down Lex.
She turned back around and gave Lex a weak smile. “No, everything's fine.”
Lex gripped the steel rungs on his crutches. “Didn't realize you had company.”
“Lex, you've met Aaron Palmer, right?”
Lex shook his head. “Nope.”
“Really? I thought for sure you two would have met by now,” Hayley said, her voice cracking, which it usually did when she was a bundle of nerves.
“Heard of him, though,” Lex said, refusing to make eye contact with Aaron.
Aaron extended his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Lex eyed it warily before deciding it would be rude not to shake hands at least.
The two men gripped each other, the knuckles on both their hands turning white, each trying to demonstrate their manly strength. If they were sitting at a table opposite each other, it would undoubtedly turn into an impromptu arm-wrestling contest.
Lex let go first because he was about to lose one of the crutches helping to keep his balance.
Aaron smirked slightly, as if silently declaring himself the winner.
“How can we help you, Lex?” Aaron asked in a friendly tone, snaking an arm around Hayley and pulling her closer to him.
Lex did a slow burn.
He looked like he wanted to punch Aaron in the face.
And given his somewhat-checkered past, it was entirely possible he would go for it if Hayley didn't do something fast to intervene.
“Lexâ”
“Hayley and I were having a private conversation,” Lex said, cutting her off.
“Not too private. I could hear you shouting all the way back there in the dining room. I'm sure the neighbors probably heard you too.”
“Well, if you head on back to where you came from and give us a little space, I promise to keep my voice down while I finish talking to Hayley. Is that okay with you?”
Hayley wriggled out from under Aaron's arm and stepped forward.
She had to put a stop to this before it escalated.
“Lex, why don't you go wait in the truck and I'll come out and we can finish discussingâ”
“The thing is, Lex,” Aaron interjected. “We were right in the middle of a nice dinner when you showed up unannounced, and I think the polite thing for you to do is let us get back to it. I'm sure whatever it is you need to resolve with Hayley can wait until tomorrow. Isn't that right, Hayley?”
Hayley had no idea what to do.
These two bulls were locking horns and she didn't have a red cape for distracting either of them.
Finally Lex slightly bowed his head. “I understand. We were just about done talking anyway. Good night, Hayley. Dr. Palmer. Oh, wait. You're a vet, right?”
“That's right.”
“So can I call you âDoctor' if you're not a
real
doctor?”
Aaron was about to leap at his throat.
Hayley quickly stepped in front of him. “Good night, Lex.”
Lex turned to maneuver back down the front steps. One of his crutches hit a patch of ice and skidded out from under him. He was about to topple over before Hayley jumped down off the porch and grabbed him by the arm to steady him. They had twisted around so they were facing Aaron. Hayley was now underneath Lex's arm, the top of her head nestled just underneath his nose.
“Your hair smells good. Is that a new shampoo?”
Hayley muttered a reply.
Yes.
No.
She didn't even remember.
It was too awkward a moment and she just wanted to get past it.
Especially since she suspected Lex nearly falling was a calculated move; he knew she would immediately rush to his side.
If that was true, it was a genius move.
But she was angry that he would even try something so devious.
Aaron's hawkish expression never wavered.
He didn't flinch.
He was not going to give Lex the satisfaction of a jealous reaction and risk revealing his fear that the handsome, macho contractor was any kind of threat to him.
Aaron continued to stand his ground as Hayley extricated herself from Lex's grasp and hurried back up the steps as Lex used his crutches to limp toward his truck, which was parked next to the curb in front of Hayley's house.
Hayley didn't even wait for Lex to drive away before shutting the door and locking it. She turned to find Aaron standing there, arms folded, fuming.
“I'm sorry about that, Aaron.”
“He still has deep feelings for you.”
“That's silly. I told you, Aaron, it's over.”
“Not in his mind. That man has not let you go. He's looking for a way to get you back. So the only hope of us ever working out is if you stop seeing him. Period.”
“You mean even as friends?”
“Yes. And if you can't do that . . .”
“What?”
“You have a choice to make. Me or him.”
Island Food & Spirits by Hayley Powell
This holiday my brother is hosting our annual Christmas Eve dinner; and as I do every year, I am going to make my favorite dessert, chocolate bourbon pecan pie. I only bake these pies once a year for two big reasons! First, I love this dessert so much that I will eat a whole pie in one sitting, which does my waistline no favors. Second, these pies are made with bourbon and I just can't rationalize putting all that bourbon in a pie that is already loaded with calories when I can simply add it to a glass of Diet Coke, heralding much better results when it comes to my diet!
Last year it was my turn to host, so I took the three days off before Christmas Eve to make my pies and do some much-needed house cleaning, present wrapping, and preparing the Christmas Eve dinner.
I had just sat down with a cup of coffee in front of the TV (one has to caffeinate in order to motivate one's self) when the phone rang. I should have expected something to come up on my precious days off, as something always does. And I was right. It was the high-school nurse calling to inform me that Gemma was running a fever. The flu was going around the school like wildfire, so I was asked to come and pick her up immediately.
Now, don't get me wrong. I love my daughter. But for those of you with kids, you can sympathize with me when it comes to having a moody teenager. Add a fever and chills into the mix and you have a disaster in the making.
I grabbed my car keys and winter coat and slipped into my boots while noting what extra remedies I would need to pick up at the Rite Aid, since I knew our medicine cabinet was pretty bare. Then, bracing myself with a big sigh, I headed out the door to the car and off to the high school.
With my daughter finally bundled into the backseat of the car and complaining loudly of how achy and awful she felt (why didn't the school ever get an epidemic of laryngitis?), we finally began the fifteen-minute journey home and my cell phone rang again. I glanced at the number and my heart sank. It was my son's junior high school. And sure enough, on the other end was the school nurse requesting that I come and pick up Dustin right away, as he seemed to be suffering from flu symptoms.
Well, as every parent knows, when two teenagers are down sick with the flu, there is only one word that best sums up what any hardworking mother experiences over the next few daysâtorture!
I said a quick prayer to myself as I headed to Dustin's school to pick him up and steeled myself for the tough days ahead. I am acutely aware as to why I never went to nursing school after high school like some of my friends. I just don't have that kind of patience!
As expected, the first day was filled with an endless stream of “Mom, I'm hot!” “Mom, I'm cold!” “Mom, can I have soup?” “Mom, I can't eat this soup!” “Mom, can I have toast?” “Mom, why isn't there strawberry jam on my toast?” “I hate strawberry jam!” I was already reaching my breaking point.
By the end of the second day, I was physically exhausted from running up and down the stairs, catering to their every need, but still trying to maintain a sweet smile on my face. It was the Christmas season, and I knew a positive outlook was my best shot at making it through this crisis.
In between my Florence Nightingale duties, I was also trying to plan a menu, prepare food, wrap gifts, scrub the bathroom, polish the floor, and dust the furniture for Christmas Eve. I kept my eye on the prize: a big piece of my chocolate bourbon pecan pie. I did have a minor meltdown on the third day. I screamed up the stairs at the kids that if I heard one more whiny “Mom!” the flu wasn't the only thing they were going to have to deal with. That shut them up pretty quick.
I collapsed on the couch and closed my eyes for a brief moment of rest. All of a sudden my cell phone, which was lying on the coffee table in front of me, began buzzing nonstop. I tried meditating to ignore it, but about a dozen text messages were coming through at a furious pace. It was my kids upstairs obeying mother's orders not to yell, but choosing, instead, to communicate through their smartphones for their immediate needs.
I jumped up off the couch and raced upstairs and, though not proud of myself, ranted and raved and threatened to cancel Christmas if I didn't get at least five minutes of peace and quiet. I must have yelled pretty hard because my head began pounding, so I stormed off to my bedroom to lie down for a spell.
The good news is the kids felt much better by the time the Christmas Eve dinner rolled around. The adults sang cocktail-infused “Santa-tini” Christmas carols all through the night. There were yummy smells of turkey and ham and stuffing wafting in from the kitchen, and gales of laughter as everyone toasted and sang, full of happiness and good cheer.
At least that's how I
thought
it was going. I could only imagine the fun that everyone was having downstairs as I huddled, shivering, under a stack of blankets in my bed. Yes, I had caught the kids' flu and was so sick that I couldn't even make it downstairs to join the festivities.
It was only later, the following morning on Christmas Day, that I managed finally to drag myself out of bed and downstairs to have a piece of that chocolate bourbon pecan pie. It was the only thing I could think about. Unfortunately, all I found were two empty pie plates on the counter and a note propped up beside them that said,
Your Best Chocolate Bourbon Pecan Pies Yet! Love, the Gang
I hope you all have a merry Christmas this year. I know I will. And to make up for missing last year, I will be having an extra “Santa-tini” or two and making three chocolate bourbon pecan pies. One
just
for me!
Â
Â
“Santa-tini” Cocktails
Â
Ingredients
2 ounces chili-infused vodka
2 ounces good chocolate liqueur
Cocoa powder
Cayenne pepper
Whipping cream
One small chili pepper
Â
Mix some of your cocoa powder with a pinch of cayenne and rim a chilled martini glass with it. Add the vodka and chocolate liqueur to a shaker filled with ice and shake it well, then pour into the martini glass. Top with the whipped cream and place your chili pepper on top of that. A guaranteed hot time will be had by all!
Â
Â
Now, let's combine two of my favorite treats, bourbon and chocolate, but in a pie! What could possibly be better than that?
Â
Â
Chocolate Bourbon Pecan Pie
Â
Ingredients
1 piecrust of your choice, homemade, store-bought, etc.
Â
Filling
3 eggs
1 cup packed dark brown sugar
½ cup light corn syrup
½ cup dark corn syrup
½ cup your favorite bourbon
2 tablespoons melted butter
½ teaspoon salt
1½ cups pecan halves divided in half
¾ cup bittersweet chocolate baking chips divided in half
Â
Place your crust in a pie dish and flute your edges. Set aside until ready to use.
In a large bowl, beat eggs, brown sugar, corn syrups, bourbon, butter, and salt until blended. Stir in one cup of the pecans and a half cup of the chocolate chips. Pour into your ready piecrust and top with remaining pecans and chocolate chips. Bake in a 325-degree preheated oven for 50 to 60 minutes or until crust is golden brown and filling is puffed. Cool completely, slice, serve, and enjoy!