Wendy began throwing things. An ornamental blacksmiths shop bounced off the window.
Ellie stood in the doorway, her face as white as her ap.r.o.n. She screamed at the sight of a gla.s.s ornament in Wendys hand. Wendy threw it at her, and Ellie ducked. The piece hit the wall and shattered into pieces.
Jeremy and Rob were well into it. At first Jeremy was on top, his fists moving like pistons on a race car. Then it was Rob. Mild mannered Rob was able to hold his own in a fight. He grabbed Jeremys head by the ears and smashed it into the floor. Once, twice. Kathy jumped up and down, yelling encouragement.
Lucky ran across the room and dropped to her knees. She touched Robs shoulder. "No more. Please."
He pulled back. He looked at her, his eyes dull and focused, and for a moment she feared he was about to hit her.
He shoved Jeremys head down and stood up.
Jeremy jumped to his feet, turned his head and spat blood onto the shiny hardwood floor. The two men faced each other, breathing heavily, fists clenched.
Lucky stepped between them. She put one palm on each chest, and could feel their hearts beating as fast as her own. "This has gone far enough, dont you think?"
Sirens coming down the road. Stopping outside the B&B.
"Will you shut the h.e.l.l up," Alan yelled at Wendy. "Like we need the cops here again."
She stopped screaming, and her hand froze before it could throw the brightly painted wooden nutcracker soldier she gripped in her right hand.
Fists pounded on the door. "Police."
"Someone get the door," Lucky said. "Or theyll break it down."
Rob and Jeremy glared at each other across her arms. She wasnt sure if she stepped away they wouldnt start the fight up again.
The other combatants began to examine their injuries. "The b.i.t.c.h bit me. Im going to need a rabies shot."
"Sacre bleu, what kind of freaks are you?"
"My late husband gave me that village. Youre going to pay for it."
Wendy fell into a chair and began to cry with great heaving sobs.
"Ill let them in," Kathy said.
Dawn Solway was half-way up the path, which was covered with the afternoons fall of snow, when Smith pulled up behind the patrol car. Winters was out of the van before Smith had brought it to a complete halt.
A pure white Jack Russell barked at him. Fortunately for Winters ankles, the dog was attached to a leash, held by a woman bundled against the cold. The woman pointed her cell phone toward the B&B. "Someones screaming in there to beat the band. I thought Id better call you." A man crossed the street to see what was happening. Next door, the porch light came on.
The B&B looked like Santas village in the gently falling snow. The roof and doorway were trimmed by tiny white lights; nets of lights were tossed over the bushes on either side of the porch steps. A big green wreath topped by a white bow graced the front door.
Solway hit the door with her fist. "Police."
She sensed someone behind her and turned around.
Smith came up the path at a trot. Solway took a quick look at her and lifted one eyebrow at the unusual uniform.
Smith shrugged.
"Ill take this," Winters said. "You two follow me." He lifted his hand to knock again, but it wasnt necessary.
Kathy Carmine stood there. "Can I help you?"
"We received a call of a disturbance at this address," Winters said. "Loud enough to be heard on the street."
"Its all sorted out. Were fine, thanks. Just a misunderstanding. Thank you for coming anyway." She began to shut the door. Winters stuck a boot into it.
"Id like to come in and check for myself."
Smith didnt know why, but Kathy looked at her as if she were asking what she should do. Smith nodded, and Kathy took a step backward, out of the doorway.
Please dont let my mom still be here. Smith entered the house behind Winters and Solway.
But her prayers were not answered. Lucky was in the middle of it all. She stood between two young men, both of them breathing heavily and bleeding from the nose and minor cuts to the face. Lucky wasnt much over five feet tall, a pudgy fifty-six year old woman with graying red hair that refused to keep to its pins; the men were six feet and more, muscular, young and angry. She kept them apart as much by force of will as strength of hand.
The other residents and the owner of the B&B were in various stages of nursing wounds, weeping, crying over broken furniture, and straightening ornaments.
"Whos going to tell me whats going on here?" Winters said. "Mrs. Smith, you can start."
Smith glared at her mother, and Lucky ignored her.
"As you understand, Sergeant Winters," she said, in a voice her daughter knew so well. Her formal, speaking to authority (before cutting them off at the knees) voice. "Emotions are running high around here. Thank you for coming, but its all over now."
Like an actor who hadnt gotten the changes to the script, Jeremy pointed at Rob, "Bulls.h.i.t. He came on like a G.o.dd.a.m.ned lunatic." Blood streamed from his nose, and he wiped it on his sleeve. He looked around the room. "You all saw it. He attacked me for no reason."
"No reason," Rob yelled. His lip was split and leaking blood. The skin around his right eye was already changing color. "All youve done since we got the news about Jason and Ewan is make snide insinuations." Kathy slipped behind him and put a hand on the small of his back. He didnt seem to notice.
Jeremys body stiffened as, despite the presence of three police officers, violence began to creep back in. "Why dont you do us all a favor and go back to your f.u.c.king computer?"
It wasnt her place to do anything without orders, but Molly Smith was so tired of this bunch of spoiled brats. And on a day that had started so nicely with a steaming mocha and a bag of fresh croissants and skis on the roof of her car. "Jeremy Wozenack, Im sick to death of seeing your face. This is the second time in one day Ive been called out to find you in a brawl. Youre under arrest."
Rob chuckled.
"What the h.e.l.l, you cant arrest me." Jeremy turned to his friends. "Ask anyone, he attacked me. Didnt he? Didnt he? Tell her, Alan."
Alan was rubbing at his forearm. "From what I saw, he made a fist like a first-grader and you came back like Mohammed Ali. Other than that, I dont much care."
"He started it," Kathy said, pointing at Jeremy. "He attacked Rob with no provocation at all."
"Thats a f.u.c.king lie. Christ, you werent even here, kid. Think making up a storys going to get you a date, think again."
"Mr. Wozenack, right now it doesnt matter one whit who started what. A judge will decide that. Im arresting you because I dont want to be called out any more today. Got it?"
"Think Im going to be taken away by a blond b.i.t.c.h in an ugly red hat? Think again, lady."
Smith felt heat rising into her face. They were all watching her. Particularly her mother. Luckys lips were pinched. That meant that she was about to explode in righteous indignation. At Molly for acting like a storm trooper or at Jeremy for calling her daughter a b.i.t.c.h. No matter. Molly Smith could only do what she had to do.
"Turn around," she said.
"No."
"Constable Solway." Smith half-turned toward Dawn. She felt as much as heard Jeremy Wozenack exhale and start to relax as he a.s.sumed hed forced her to step down. She whirled around and grabbed his left arm. With a sharp twist she had him facing the wall, struggling to keep his footing.
"Nice." Solway snapped handcuffs on.
Smith let out a puff of breath that meant thanks. Jeremy let out a stream of abuse.
Solway spoke to Jeremy. "Lets go."
"Constable Smith," Winters said. "Help Constable Solway take him to the station. Ill stay for a while longer." He held out his hand. Smith gave him the keys to the vehicle.
Smith and Solway headed for the door. Other than informing the two women of his opinion of their s.e.xual proclivities and those of their parents, Jeremy didnt put up any resistance.
"Now, perhaps someone will tell me whats going on here. And you," Winters said to Rob, "dont start thinking youre in the clear just because youre not being escorted out like your friend."
"Thats so unfair," Kathy Carmine said. "It wasnt Robs fault..."
Smith opened the front door.
A mans hand was raised to knock. Mr. Wyatt-Yarmouth, Wendy and Jasons father. His eyes opened wide and he took a step back. He slipped on the stair and his arms windmilled as he struggled to keep from falling. Solway reached out her free hand to offer support, but he kept his footing without it.
"What on earth?" he said.
"If youll excuse us, sir," Smith said.
Jeremy, fortunately, didnt say anything.
Wyatt-Yarmouth peered at her. "Didnt I see you the other night at the restaurant?"
"Perhaps. Good evening, sir."
"Wait, just a minute, please, is my wife here?"
"I dont believe so, sir."
"Youre with the police?" Mr. Wyatt-Yarmouth said. As if hed finally understood that two women, one in full uniform, the other wearing a police jacket, escorting a handcuffed prisoner with a bleeding nose, might be real officers and not girls dressed up for a costume party. He coughed. "Perhaps its fortunate Ive run into you...uh...ladies."
"Whys that, sir?" Smith said.
Solway gave Smith a nod around Jeremy and gave him a prod toward the car.
"Well," Wyatt-Yarmouth said. "Its that...Well you see. I mean..."
"Sir, is there a problem?"
"Yes, there is. My wife has gone missing."
Chapter Sixteen.
Ellie Carmine had an attack of the vapors. Sophie Dion forgot how to speak English. Alan Robertson insisted that he didnt need to go to the hospital, although no one had offered to take him there. Kathy Carmine wept and moaned over Rob Fitzgeralds minor wounds with as much drama as if hed been bayoneted in the Charge of the Light Brigade. Lucky Smith walked around the room picking up shards of gla.s.s.
Jack Wyatt-Yarmouth walked into a scene of total chaos. His daughter stopped crying, breathed in what bit of fragile strength she still possessed and approached him.
"Hi Dad," she said. "Sorry. I guess Im late for dinner, eh? Ill run upstairs and tidy up and be right with you." She looked around the room. "Might be just us tonight, though."
"Is your mother here?" Jack said. Without a hug or a kiss or even a question as to why rivers of black mascara scarred her cheeks.
He didnt even seem too concerned at why the Christmas tree was leaning against the wall, Mrs. Carmine keening over broken decorations, Alan trying to get Sophie to come upstairs, Kathy rubbing Robs face while he swatted at her eager fingers, as if they carried swarms of starving mosquitoes.
"I dont know where Mom is," Wendy said.
Jack Wyatt-Yarmouth turned to Winters. "Im glad I found you here, Sergeant. My wife has gone missing. This is unusual behavior, and I have to tell you that I fear for her safety."
Wendy fell into a chair. "No more," she moaned, "please no more."
Wendy, Winters thought, alone among this pack of drama kings and queens, truly needs some help.
"When did you see her last, sir?" He stepped into the hallway, willing Jack to follow.
"We had breakfast together, at a restaurant in town, around nine."
Winters checked his watch. "Its eight oclock. You must realize we cant consider this to be a missing person case with less than twelve hours having pa.s.sed."
"Look here, Sergeant. My wife and I have come to your charming town to collect the body of our son. Since arriving we have been told that the body is not going to be released, pending further investigation. Whatever that means. Our family dinner was interrupted by a street person to such a degree that the police had to be called. And tonight I can not find my wife."
"Careless of you."
Winters turned. Wendy Wyatt-Yarmouth stood in the doorway. Her eyes were red, nose and cheeks matching. She held a crumpled tissue in one hand.
"Go and wash your face," Jack told his daughter.
"Wont help," she said.
Ellie crept past them, heading toward the kitchen. In the common room Alan said something about going home, and Kathy told Rob shed help him manage the stairs.
Winters had no idea what Lucky Smith was up to, and that worried him.
Wendy blew her nose. "Moms out of her mind with grief. Cant you let her have some time to herself?"