they’d
planned a
huge outdoor Halloween party at the Cackleberry Club. Complete with decorations,
costume contest, live music, bobbing for apples, fire pit for roasting hot dogs,
cider and doughnuts,
and a major theatrical surprise.
“Hey!” exclaimed
Junior, “I know a guy who’s got a bumper crop of pumpkins.”
“No, thanks, Junior,”
said Suzanne, “I’m going to ...”
But Junior persisted. “No,
seriously. This guy owes me a huge favor, so I can get you guys a whole
truckload of pumpkins for
free.”
“How’s that?” asked
Suzanne. Maybe Junior really could
help.
“This guy
had a car accident but didn’t want to tell his wife,” Junior explained. “It was
her car, a Toyota Celica, and he was just this side of tipsy when he had a close en counter with a bridge abutment”
“Why am I not
surprised?” said Toni, rolling her eyes.
“Anyway,”
continued Junior, “I ironed out the dent and touched up the paint Made it look
good as new, all on the QT.
And now he owes me big-time.”
“Really,”
said Suzanne. What with a Quilt Trail Tea, Mystery Tea, book signing, and
Halloween party going on this week, maybe Junior really could lend a helping
hand.
Junior
hooked a thumb and touched his chest, trying to look important. “You need
pumpkins? I’m the guy who can hook
you up.”
“We’re
talking pumpkins,” said Suzanne. “Vegetables. Members of the squash family.
You’re acting like we’re dealing
in human body parts.”
Junior was
undeterred. “Still,” said Junior, “I’m your connection.”
An hour
later, Suzanne and Petra sped through downtown Kindred, heading for the
Westvale Medical Clinic. They’d taken off an hour early, determined to drive as
much of the Quilt Trail as possible, Toni had agreed to hold down the fort until closing,
then drive Baxter to Suzanne’s house and feed him his cup of kibble. Doggy
day care at its finest.
“What’s
in your care package?” Petra asked, as Suzanne pulled into the clinic’s parking lot “Soup and scones for Sam, scones and sticky rolls
for everyone else.”
“Good for you,” said
Petra. “I hate to see anything go to waste.”
“Believe
me, it won’t,” said Suzanne, climbing out of the car. “You gonna wait here?”
Petra
pulled her nubby sweater around her and nodded. “I think so.”
Suzanne
dashed into the clinic, exchanged hugs with Esther, the clinic manager, then
handed over all her loot.
“Wow!”
exclaimed Esther, peering in the larger bag. “Thanks loads. And it’s all low
cal, right?”
“And low
carb,” said Suzanne. “Especially the sticky rolls.”
You want me to give
Sam a buzz?” Esther asked. She was cheery and upbeat, dressed in pale blue
scrubs. “I can see if he’s
free.”
“No,” said Suzanne, “Petra
and I are driving the Quilt Trail
today. Gotta run.”
“Oh fun,”
chirped Esther. “I’m hoping to do it this weekend.”
“You’re still coming
to our Halloween party on Satur day
night, aren’t you?” asked Suzanne.
“Wouldn’t
miss it,” Esther called, as Suzanne skipped out the door.
“That was quick,” said
Petra, as Suzanne climbed in and turned
the key in the ignition.
“We’ve
got a... what?” said Suzanne. “Thirty-five- mile drive ahead of us?”
“Something like that,”
said Petra, studying the map. “Maybe more. First the log cabin, then the round barn, then...”
“Seat belt,” Suzanne
reminded her, as she backed out, noting Sam’s BMW parked three stalls down. She smiled, glanced in the mirror,
and happened to catch a quick re flection of Lester Drummond, the prison warden, emerging from the
Hard Body Gym next door. He was a big man with shaved head, craggy face,
and a forehead full of worry lines. Suzanne always thought Drummond had the kind of hard face and hard
muscles that came from serving hard time. Except, of course, Drummond ran the
prison.
Drummond had just
tossed his Nike gym bag into his black SUV, as Suzanne swung
planned a
huge outdoor Halloween party at the Cackleberry Club. Complete with decorations,
costume contest, live music, bobbing for apples, fire pit for roasting hot dogs,
cider and doughnuts,
and a major theatrical surprise.
“Hey!” exclaimed
Junior, “I know a guy who’s got a bumper crop of pumpkins.”
“No, thanks, Junior,”
said Suzanne, “I’m going to ...”
But Junior persisted. “No,
seriously. This guy owes me a huge favor, so I can get you guys a whole
truckload of pumpkins for
free.”
“How’s that?” asked
Suzanne. Maybe Junior really could
help.
“This guy
had a car accident but didn’t want to tell his wife,” Junior explained. “It was
her car, a Toyota Celica, and he was just this side of tipsy when he had a close en counter with a bridge abutment”
“Why am I not
surprised?” said Toni, rolling her eyes.
“Anyway,”
continued Junior, “I ironed out the dent and touched up the paint Made it look
good as new, all on the QT.
And now he owes me big-time.”
“Really,”
said Suzanne. What with a Quilt Trail Tea, Mystery Tea, book signing, and
Halloween party going on this week, maybe Junior really could lend a helping
hand.
Junior
hooked a thumb and touched his chest, trying to look important. “You need
pumpkins? I’m the guy who can hook
you up.”
“We’re
talking pumpkins,” said Suzanne. “Vegetables. Members of the squash family.
You’re acting like we’re dealing
in human body parts.”
Junior was
undeterred. “Still,” said Junior, “I’m your connection.”
An hour
later, Suzanne and Petra sped through downtown Kindred, heading for the
Westvale Medical Clinic. They’d taken off an hour early, determined to drive as
much of the Quilt Trail as possible, Toni had agreed to hold down the fort until closing,
then drive Baxter to Suzanne’s house and feed him his cup of kibble. Doggy
day care at its finest.
“What’s
in your care package?” Petra asked, as Suzanne pulled into the clinic’s parking lot “Soup and scones for Sam, scones and sticky rolls
for everyone else.”
“Good for you,” said
Petra. “I hate to see anything go to waste.”
“Believe
me, it won’t,” said Suzanne, climbing out of the car. “You gonna wait here?”
Petra
pulled her nubby sweater around her and nodded. “I think so.”
Suzanne
dashed into the clinic, exchanged hugs with Esther, the clinic manager, then
handed over all her loot.
“Wow!”
exclaimed Esther, peering in the larger bag. “Thanks loads. And it’s all low
cal, right?”
“And low
carb,” said Suzanne. “Especially the sticky rolls.”
You want me to give
Sam a buzz?” Esther asked. She was cheery and upbeat, dressed in pale blue
scrubs. “I can see if he’s
free.”
“No,” said Suzanne, “Petra
and I are driving the Quilt Trail
today. Gotta run.”
“Oh fun,”
chirped Esther. “I’m hoping to do it this weekend.”
“You’re still coming
to our Halloween party on Satur day
night, aren’t you?” asked Suzanne.
“Wouldn’t
miss it,” Esther called, as Suzanne skipped out the door.
“That was quick,” said
Petra, as Suzanne climbed in and turned
the key in the ignition.
“We’ve
got a... what?” said Suzanne. “Thirty-five- mile drive ahead of us?”
“Something like that,”
said Petra, studying the map. “Maybe more. First the log cabin, then the round barn, then...”
“Seat belt,” Suzanne
reminded her, as she backed out, noting Sam’s BMW parked three stalls down. She smiled, glanced in the mirror,
and happened to catch a quick re flection of Lester Drummond, the prison warden, emerging from the
Hard Body Gym next door. He was a big man with shaved head, craggy face,
and a forehead full of worry lines. Suzanne always thought Drummond had the kind of hard face and hard
muscles that came from serving hard time. Except, of course, Drummond ran the
prison.
Drummond had just
tossed his Nike gym bag into his black SUV, as Suzanne swung
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