Yule Log Murder Page 14

  “Mind your own business, bitch,” Ryan snarled.

  And then, Conner dropped the empty cups and pushed him.

  Not hard, just as a warning, but it was enough to rile Ryan enough that he dove at Conner, knocking him to the ground, pummeling him in the face with his fists. Hayley and Gemma jumped in and attempted to drag Ryan off Conner, but Ryan was in some kind of zone, blocking out their screams. He wasn’t going to stop until Conner was unconscious or dead.

  As hard as they tried, Hayley and Gemma couldn’t get Ryan under control as Conner covered his face with his hands, trying to protect himself from the onslaught of blows. The surrounding guests were so stunned and shocked by what was happening, none thought to intervene and help. Luckily, however, Sergio had just arrived a few minutes earlier. He was hanging by the piano, listening to his husband, Randy, bang out “Jingle Bells,” when Kimmy Bradford noticed the commotion clear across the room. She immediately reported it to the police chief. He bounded across the room and the crowd parted like the Red Sea, allowing him to reach Ryan. Sergio was a big man, and after pushing Hayley and Gemma aside, he managed to get Ryan in a headlock. He applied enough pressure so that Ryan was finally forced to let go of Conner, who rolled over on his side in a crumpled heap.

  “What the hell is the matter with you?” Sergio yelled into Ryan’s ear.

  Ryan, unable to breathe, slumped forward, about to pass out. But then Sergio released him and hauled him to his feet, holding him by a fistful of his tank top.

  “Did you hear me?” Sergio said.

  Ryan nodded slowly, but didn’t speak.

  “I’m taking you down to the station and booking you for assault.”

  Liddy suddenly appeared, eyes wide with fury, and screamed at Ryan. “I didn’t invite you, I have absolutely no idea who you even are, and you ruined my party!”

  Sergio clamped a hand on the back of Ryan’s neck and began pulling him toward the door.

  “Wait, I’m okay, let him go,” Conner said, wiping away some blood around his nose with the back of his hand.

  Sergio stopped and turned Ryan around to face Conner, who was back on his feet, being doted on by a concerned Gemma.

  “You sure?” Sergio asked.

  “Yes,” Conner said. “It just got a little heated. No harm done. I don’t want anyone arrested so close to Christmas.”

  “Well, I do! I want him arrested for trespassing!” Liddy howled.

  Conner turned to Liddy. “Please, Ms. Crawford, let’s just forget the whole thing and get back to having a good time at your wonderful party.”

  Liddy paused, then relented. “All right, if that’s what you want. Wait. Who are you again?”

  “He’s my boyfriend,” Gemma said.

  “Oh, right,” Liddy said, giving him the once-over. “Cute. And who’s the sleazy outlaw?”

  “Someone I went to high school with,” Gemma said.

  “Okay,” Liddy said, turning to Ryan, who was still being held by Sergio. “Fine. I won’t press charges, but at least get him out of my house!”

  Sergio nodded and hauled Ryan over to the door and gave him the boot.

  Hayley and Gemma rushed to the window and watched Ryan skulk away down the driveway and off into the woods across the road.

  The party improved immeasurably from that point on, especially since most of the crashers cleared the room the minute the caterer ran out of food. Ron’s wife, DeAnn, left shortly after the Ryan Toledo drama, complaining of a headache, but since it was barely after eight o’clock, Ron chose to stay behind for a while longer because he was enjoying the spiked punch and kept refilling his plastic cup. Kimmy Bradford disappeared soon after that. By ten o’clock, more guests had slowly melted away. Mona’s younger kids, of course, ate too many sweets, like every year, and their sugar highs got so unmanageable, she and her husband, “Deadbeat Dennis” as she liked to refer to him, loaded them into their SUV to take them home. Conner asked Gemma if she would mind if he had Mona drop him off at Hayley’s house. He was tired and wanted to get some sleep after his unexpected boxing match. Gemma offered to accompany him, but Conner insisted that Gemma stay and enjoy herself with her family and friends. He left after apologizing to Liddy for the tenth time for getting blood on her white Persian rug. Ron Hopkins also left around the same time to go home. So only the diehards were left around the piano to sing more Christmas carols—Hayley, Liddy, Randy, Sergio, Gemma, and late-comer Bruce, who had been busy filing a story at the office, and had to be brought up to speed on the dramatic events that had transpired earlier in the evening.

  “Well, at least everyone will be talking about your party, Liddy,” Randy said as the stragglers finished singing “Frosty the Snowman.”

  And he was right.

  Liddy’s party was going to be written about and talked about for years to come.

  But not because a drunken suitor, who was vying for Gemma’s attention, had attacked her actor boyfriend from the big city and had bloodied his nose.

  No, the party would be remembered for something entirely different. Because not five minutes after Randy made that remark, Sergio’s cell phone buzzed. When he answered the call, everyone immediately noticed the pale intensity on his face as he listened to whoever was on the other end.

  When he hung up, Randy stood up from the piano. “What is it?”

  “A body was just found in the woods not too far from here.”

  “What?” Liddy gasped.

  Sergio turned to Gemma. “Ryan Toledo. Your high-school classmate.”

  Then he turned to Liddy, who had a puzzled look on her face. “The one we kicked out of your party.”

  Yes, this was going to be a Christmas party for the books.

  Island Food & Spirits

  By Hayley Powell

  Last week I hauled all the Christmas decorations down from the attic to sort through and get ready for my annual family tree-trimming get-together. Whenever the holiday season rolls around and the time comes to unpack all the ornaments and lights and garland and figurines, I can’t help but daydream about all those Christmas mornings long ago when my now-fully-grown adult son and daughter were still two rambunctious, excitable little kids. I hate to admit it, but I’m a real softie, especially when I rummage through old cardboard boxes and happen upon the homemade decorations my kids made for me when they were in grade school.

  I often think, “Where in the world did the time go?” But the real question should be: “Why in the world did I save every single decoration they ever made?”

  I’m sure every mother knows some of those decorations and gifts created as projects in Art were downright ugly, something only a mother could love. But still, each one had a special memory attached to it.

  In one box marked “Christmas Gifts from the Kids,” I had to use both hands to pull out a giant glass bottle decanter! It was deep ruby red with fluorescent purple, yellow, and blue hearts all over it, and in glittery-gold, shiny letters on the front was printed the word “Perfume.”

  I immediately burst out laughing as I remembered the year I had received this awesomely tacky gift from Dustin when he was in the first grade. He was six, and I could never forget how excited he was to bestow such a valuable treasure upon me. He could hardly contain his excitement as he stood in front of the tree, bouncing eagerly from foot to foot, all the while trying to hold the heavy package in his tiny arms as he grinned from ear to ear. As I complimented the wrapping and began to open my gift, he stared intently at me, not wanting to miss a moment of my reaction to his carefully selected Christmas gift.

  I should probably mention here, as some of you might not know, that every year our local YWCA holds a Children’s Christmas Shopping Day on a Saturday in early December. All year long, people can donate gently used or never used items that are no longer needed or wanted so that all the children in town from ages five to eight can be dropped off to buy presents for their parents, siblings, and even grandparents. Volunteers escort the children around the room
s and gym of the YWCA that are filled with a variety of items that the kids can pick from to give away on Christmas morning. The volunteers then wrap and tag each gift, while the kids enjoy cookies and a movie until all the parents return to pick them up.

  I was on the receiving end of quite a few interesting gifts from this lovely program over the years, so I was fully prepared to react with unbridled joy, no matter how hideous the gift! But even I had trouble on this particular Christmas morning not recoiling at what had to be the most enormous, grotesque perfume bottle I had ever seen in my life! To make matters worse, Dustin jumped up and down, yelling, “Open it up and put some on!”

  Well, I could only imagine what kind of scent I would find inside this bottle, but I gamely unpeeled the foil wrapper off the top of the decanter and unscrewed the top of the bottle. As I slowly removed the top and the scent wafted out, I nearly passed out. It was an ungodly smell, so sour and overpowering. My eyes became watery, but Dustin, luckily, assumed I was crying because I was so moved by his thoughtful gift. Every facial muscle fought not to scrunch up in horror and I held the bottle with both hands because I was afraid if I spilled any on the floor, the smell would seep into the carpet and I’d never get the stench out.

  I managed to convince my son I loved his gift, even though my performance would never rival Meryl Streep by any stretch of the imagination. My outspoken daughter, Gemma, however, saw no need to protect her little brother’s feelings. She took one whiff and cried, “Mom, it smells like a dead skunk in here!”

  Poor Dustin’s eyes welled up with tears, though it could have been caused by the wretched perfume. I set the bottle down on the coffee table and ran over to him, hugging him close and assuring him that this wondrous, sweet-smelling perfume was the best Christmas present I had ever received. I chose to ignore his sister, who was dramatically pinching her nose closed while making loud, gagging noises.

  After patting Dustin on the back and thanking him again for the lovely gift, I sat him down in front of his newly opened Christmas toys in an effort to change the subject. Luckily, he had a new train set to assemble, which kept his mind occupied for the rest of the morning, while I headed into the kitchen to make his favorite Christmas-morning muffins (and to open the kitchen window to get some fresh air inside the house). Baking also allowed me some private time to figure out a plan on how to replace the contents of the perfume bottle with a more palatable scent and to also enjoy a favorite Mom’s Christmas Morning Cocktail.

  Mom’s Christmas Morning Cocktail

  Ingredients

  2 cups cranberry juice

  1 cup orange juice

  1 bottle Prosecco

  1 orange slice

  1 cup cranberries

  1 cinnamon stick

  In a two-quart pitcher, mix together your cranberry juice, orange juice, and Prosecco and stir.

  Add the orange slice, cranberries, and cinnamon stick.

  Pour into a chilled glass or chill a pitcher in the fridge for a while.

  Pour into your favorite brunch glasses and enjoy.

  Dustin’s Christmas Morning Cinnamon Muffins

  Ingredients

  1½ cups flour

  ½ cup sugar

  2 teaspoons baking powder

  ½ teaspoon salt

  ½ teaspoon ground nutmeg

  ½ teaspoon allspice

  1 egg, beaten

  ½ cup milk

  ⅓ cup butter, melted

  For the topping:

  2 tablespoons brown sugar (or regular sugar if that’s your

  preference)

  ½ teaspoon ground cinnamon

  ¼ cup melted butter

  Mix your flour, sugar, baking powder, salt, allspice, and nutmeg.

  Add the egg and butter and milk into flour mixture and stir just until moistened.

  Divide into a greased or paper-lined muffin tin.

  Bake at 375 degrees for 20 minutes or until a toothpick comes out clean.

  While muffins are baking, combine your remaining cinnamon and sugar in a small bowl and set aside.

  Melt the butter in a small saucepan.

  Remove the finished muffins from the oven and brush the tops of the muffins with the melted butter, then roll the tops in the cinnamon/sugar mixture.

  Place them on a pretty Christmas platter, then just sit back and watch them be gobbled up in a matter of seconds.

  Chapter Five

  Ryan Toledo’s untimely death was ruled a homicide a day later after the Hancock County coroner filed his autopsy report with the police. According to his findings, the victim had been bludgeoned to death. At first, no one in town seemed all that surprised or even cared much. In fact, the revelation that Toledo was savagely attacked in the woods and murdered was met with a collective yawn and didn’t even warrant a front-page headline in Bar Harbor’s two rival newspapers, the Island Times and the Bar Harbor Herald. Most people just assumed the kid had it coming. He had always been considered bad news and was probably mixed up with the wrong crowd since high school, hanging out with drug dealers and that sort. He was always up to no good, and most likely just crossed the wrong baseball-bat-wielding lowlife.

  That was what people thought . . .

  Then that evening after work, Hayley was making the rounds, delivering her chocolate Yule logs in the festive baskets tied with a red ribbon around a thick round actual Yule log. She stopped by Randy and Sergio’s home to drop off the one she had personally made for them.

  Randy ushered her inside, insisting she stay for a hot toddy. When Randy set Hayley’s thoughtful Christmas gift down on the coffee table, in front of the fire, and went into the kitchen to make the drinks, Hayley couldn’t help but notice Sergio. He was sitting on the couch, leaning forward and intensely staring at the Yule log.

  “Is something wrong, Sergio?”

  He didn’t answer her at first.

  He was still eyeballing the Yule log.

  “Where did you get that red ribbon?”

  “I’m not sure,” Hayley answered. “Maybe the crafts store in Ellsworth? Why?”

  “A red ribbon just like that one was found in the pocket of Ryan Toledo’s jeans on the night he was murdered.”

  “Well, that’s not so unusual. You can find red Christmas ribbons everywhere this time of year.”

  “I know, but there is something else. The coroner found traces of chocolate and cream in Toledo’s system that hadn’t been digested, and there were also crumbs consistent with a chocolate Yule log on his clothing.”

  “Are you suggesting, and I certainly hope you are not, that Ryan ate one of my Yule logs right before he was killed?”

  “I wasn’t suggesting anything until I saw this ribbon. It’s exactly the same.”

  “Well, that’s impossible, Sergio, because I hadn’t delivered any of my Yule logs to anyone on my list before the night of Liddy’s party. They were all wrapped and still at my house.”

  Sergio nodded, still considering the odd coincidence.

  “How in the world would he have gotten his hands on one?” Hayley asked, suddenly worried.

  “I don’t know.”

  Then something struck Hayley, like a gut punch to the stomach.

  “Wait . . . ,” Hayley gasped.

  “What?”

  “Tonight when I went home from work to pack them up in a box for delivery, I was three Yule logs short. I thought I miscounted them, but maybe . . .”

  “Maybe what?”

  “Well, the night of Liddy’s party, I was still at the office working on my column for the next day. Gemma called to ask if I would like her and Conner to get a head start and begin delivering the Yule logs to the addresses on the list. I told her not to bother, I would do it later. But maybe she decided to help me out anyway.”

  “I think we should go talk to Gemma,” Sergio said, an urgency in his tone.

  The hot toddy would have to wait.

  Hayley drove Sergio in her car directly to her house. As they pulled into the dri
veway, she could see Gemma and Conner through the kitchen window, kissing each other in a way that made Hayley supremely uncomfortable.

  She had to get over the fact her little girl was now a grown woman.

  Hayley just wished she liked her choice of a boyfriend more.

  * * *

  Hayley and Sergio got out of the car and went inside the house, not exchanging a word. When they entered the kitchen, Gemma and Conner quickly separated, both grinning sheepishly, stealing furtive glances at one another, as if they had just gotten away with something.

  Gemma instantly noticed the somber look on her uncle Sergio’s face.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Gemma, did you deliver any of the chocolate Yule logs the night of the party?” Hayley asked, her heart racing.

  “Oh, that’s right, I totally forgot! I meant to tell you. Yes, Conner and I had some extra time before the party, so we delivered three of them. Didn’t I cross the names off the list?”

  “No, you didn’t,” Hayley said.

  “Who did you deliver them to, Gemma?” Sergio asked.

  Gemma stiffened, suddenly concerned. “Let’s see . . . um . . . we took one over to Kimmy Bradford . . .”

  “At her house?” Sergio asked.

  “No, at the real estate office, where she works. She was very grateful and said she was going to try some when she got home to change clothes for Liddy’s party,” Gemma said.

  “Are you sure?” Hayley asked.

  “That lady is kind of hard to forget,” Conner joked, a lustful look in his eye.

  Gemma feigned indignation and playfully slapped him on the back of the head.

  “Who else?”

  “We took one over to Ron Hopkins’s house. He was still working at the Shop ’n Save, but DeAnn was home and was very happy when we gave it to her,” Gemma said.

  “She told us she was a chocolate fiend,” Ryan added.

  “And the third one?” Sergio asked.

  “We swung by your office, but you had already gone home. Bruce was still there working, so we left one with him,” Gemma said. “What’s going on, Mom?”