Ground to a Halt Read online

  THE HEMLOCK FALLS MYSTERIES

  1 pretty little town in upstate New York

  1 picturesque inn overlooking Hemlock Gorge

  2 talented sisters better at solving crimes

  than they are at their day jobs

  1 (or more) murders

  A WINNING RECIPE FOR MYSTERY LOVERS

  Don’t miss these Hemlock Falls Mysteries . . .

  A DINNER TO DIE FOR . . .

  Less-than-friendly professional competition. A serious

  case of cold feet. And, oh yes, a local murder. Could things

  go worse on Meg’s wedding day?

  BURIED BY BREAKFAST . . .

  The leader of a raucous group of protestors turns up

  dead—and the Quilliams must quell fears and catch a killer

  before another local V.I.P. is greeted with an untimely

  R.I.P.

  A PUREE OF POISON . . .

  While residents celebrate the 133rd anniversary of the Battle of Hemlock Falls, the Quilliam sisters investigate the deaths of three people who dined at the Inn before checking out.

  FRIED BY JURY . . .

  Two rival fried chicken restaurants are about to set up shop

  in Hemlock Falls—and the Quilliams have to turn up the

  heat when the competition turns deadly.

  JUST DESSERTS . . .

  There’s a meteorologist convention coming to the Inn, and

  it’s up to Quill and Meg to make sure an elusive killer

  doesn’t make murder part of the forecast.

  continued . . .

  MARINADE FOR MURDER . . .

  The Quilliams’ plans for the future of the Inn may end up

  on the cutting room floor when a group of TV cartoon

  writers checks in—and the producer checks out.

  A STEAK IN MURDER . . .

  While trying to sell the locals on the idea of raising their

  own herds, a visiting Texas cattleman gets sent to that big

  trail drive in the sky. The Quilliams set out to catch the culprit and reclaim their precious Inn . . . without getting stampeded themselves!

  A TOUCH OF THE GRAPE . . .

  Five women jewelry makers are a welcome change from

  the tourist slump the Inn is having. All that changes when

  two of the ladies end up dead, and the Quilliams are on the

  hunt for a crafty killer.

  DEATH DINES OUT . . .

  While working for a charity in Palm Beach, the Quilliam

  sisters uncover a vengeful plot that has a wealthy socialite

  out to humiliate her husband. Now the sleuths must convince the couple to bury the hatchet—before they bury each other!

  MURDER WELL-DONE . . .

  When the Inn hosts the wedding rehearsal dinner for an ex-

  senator, someone begins cutting down the guest list in a

  most deadly way. And Quill and Meg have to catch a killer

  before the rehearsal dinner ends up being someone’s last

  meal.

  A PINCH OF POISON . . .

  Hendrick Conway is a nosy newsman who thinks something funny is going on at a local development project. But when two of his relatives are killed, the Quilliam sisters

  race against a deadline of their own.

  A DASH OF DEATH . . .

  Quill and Meg are on the trail of the murderer of two local

  women who won a design contest. Helena Houndswood, a

  noted expert of stylish living, was furious when she lost.

  But mad enough to kill?

  A TASTE FOR MURDER . . .

  The annual History Days festival takes a deadly turn when

  a reenactment of a seventeenth-century witch trial leads to

  twentieth-century murder. Since the victim is a paying

  guest, the least Quill and Meg could do is investigate.

  The Hemlock Falls Mysteries by Claudia Bishop

  a taste for murder

  a dash of death

  a pinch of poison

  murder well-done

  death dines out

  a touch of the grape

  a steak in murder

  marinade for murder

  just desserts

  fried by jury

  a puree of poison

  buried by breakfast

  a dinner to die for

  ground to a halt

  The Casebooks of Dr. McKenzie Mysteries

  by Claudia Bishop

  the case of the roasted onion

  GROUND

  TO A HALT

  CLAUDIA

  BISHOP

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

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  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: The recipes contained in this book are to be followed exactly as written. The publisher is not responsible for your specific health or allergy needs that may require medical supervision. The publisher is not responsible for any adverse reactions to the recipes contained in this book.

  GROUND TO A HALT

  A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author

  Copyright © 2007 by Mary Stanton.

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 1-4295-5847-4

  BERKLEY® PRIME CRIME

  Berkley Prime Crime Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  The name BERKLEY PRIME CRIME and the BERKLEY PRIME CRIME design

  are trademarks belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  To My Readers,

  with warmest thanks for all the time you’ve spent

  in Hemlock Falls

  CAST OF CHARACTERS

  AT THE INN AT HEMLOCK FALLS

  Sarah Quilliam-McHale

  owner-operator

  Margaret Quilliam

  her sister, and chef

  Doreen Muxworthy

  housekeeper

 
; John Raintree

  business manager

  Elizabeth Chou

  a chef

  Peter Hairston

  sommelier

  Cassie

  a waitress

  Dina Muir

  receptionist

  Lila Longstreet

  a guest

  Millard Barnstaple

  a guest; president, Vegan

  Vittles

  Priscilla Barnstaple

  a guest; Millard’s wife

  Victoria Finnegan

  an attorney

  Robin Finnegan

  a guest; her husband

  Maxwell Kittleburger

  a guest; president,

  Pet-Pro Protein

  Olivia Oberlie

  a guest; pet psychic

  Rudy Baranga

  a guest; a food wholesaler

  Max

  a dog

  And various waiters, groundskeepers, sous chefs, et al.

  IN THE VILLAGE OF HEMLOCK FALLS

  Myles McHale

  investigator

  Elmer Henry

  the mayor

  Adela Henry

  the mayoress

  Jerry Grimsby

  a chef

  x

  Cast of Characters

  Marge Schmidt

  businesswoman

  Betty Hall

  Marge’s partner

  Pamela Durbin

  owner, Pamela’s

  Pampered Puppy

  Palace

  Davy Kiddermeister

  the sheriff

  Howie Murchinson

  town attorney and justice

  of the peace

  Miriam Doncaster

  the librarian

  Esther West

  owner, West’s Best Dress

  Shoppe

  Harvey Bozzel

  advertising executive

  Bernie Hamm

  owner, Heavenly Hogg’s

  Quincy Peterson

  a sixth grader

  Maria Kowalski

  a first-grade teacher

  Harland Peterson

  a farmer

  AND OTHERS

  Lt. Anson Harker

  NYS Police

  Lt. Simon Provost

  Tompkins County

  Sheriff’s Department

  CHAPTER 1

  The morning breakfast crowd at Marge Schmidt’s All-

  American Diner was in agreement: Quincy Peterson

  was destined to come to a bad end.

  It was not, Sarah Quilliam mused, as she extricated

  her curls from the wad of Double Trouble Watermelon

  Bubblegum that Quincy had stuck in her hair, that the

  citizens of Hemlock Falls disliked the Peterson family.

  Nor were those villagers who dropped in at Marge’s

  every morning for coffee and Betty Hall’s famous cinnamon buns spiteful just for the heck of it. Quincy’s antisocial behavior was notorious. The diner crowd usually had an accurate finger on the village affairs. There was

  the incident of the Superglue and Nadine’s angora cat at

  Nickerson’s Hardware store. The stink bomb at the

  School Board meeting in May. The mustache in permanent marker on the statue of General C. C. Hemlock’s horse in Peterson Park. And currently, Quincy’s fascination with all of the places that chewed bubblegum would stick in a more or less everlasting way.

  “Told ya not to help with this field trip, didn’t I?”

  2

  Claudia Bishop

  Marge Schmidt poured Quill a second cup of coffee.

  There was a subterranean we-told-you-so sort of

  chuckle from the villagers seated near Quill’s table.

  Quill carefully pulled out the last bit of gum from

  her hair and balled it into a paper napkin. Quincy was

  seated directly across from her. He smiled. It was quite

  a nice smile. You’d never guess from his angelic looks

  that he was a demon in the guise of a six-year-old.

  Quincy stuck his tongue out as far as it would go, revealing another wad of gum. Quill grabbed protectively at her hair, and resisted the impulse to shake the kid by

  his ankles until he turned blue. “Yes, Marge,” she said

  rather crossly, “you did tell me not to do it.”

  “So why did you?” Marge persisted. Marge resembled a smaller version of a Sherman tank. Her neck swiveled in a turretlike way, and her small, bullet-sharp

  gaze was uncompromising in its directness. She was a

  very good friend to Quill and her sister Meg, but she

  wasn’t the most tactful person around.

  There was something different about her today.

  Quill’s visual memory was excellent. Marge had tinted

  her hair a brighter (rather brassy) ginger color. An inexpert smudge of blue eyeliner creased her upper lids. She wore a sequined t-shirt under her bowling jacket.

  Marge avoided Quill’s inquiring look and directed

  her blue-rimmed, unwavering stare at Quill’s stomach,

  which was slim and flat in a well-cut cotton skirt. “Getting used to being around kiddies, maybe?”

  Quill, recently and precipitously married to Myles

  McHale (to the astonishment of the entire village) felt

  herself turn pink. “Of course not.”

  This was a fib. She was thirty-six, and her biologi

  GROUND TO A HALT

  3

  cal clock was chiming loud and clear. Her sister Meg’s

  interest in Quill’s possible pregnancy was even more

  persistent.

  “You heard about John,” Marge said with an air of

  approval. “He and Trish had their first. Little girl.”

  “Oh, yes,” Quill said. She could feel her face light up.

  John, who had moved from being Quill’s business manager to her accountant as her own expertise grew, was coming to visit them Saturday with the new baby.

  “He’s quite an example,” Marge pointed out. “Bachelor for years. And now lookit ’m.”

  “I’m here because Maria called me in a total panic

  this morning,” Quill said in a flustered way, “flu’s decimated the teachers’ aides. There wasn’t anyone else to call. She was in a pickle.”

  Marge snorted. “You put yourself on the volunteer

  list, though. Didn’t ya? Told ya this kind of thing wasn’t

  your bag. Didn’t I?”

  Quill sighed and glanced at her watch. The school

  van was running late. Marge’s All-American Diner was

  the collection point for the first-grade field trip to the

  Heavenly Hogg’s Pig Farm. A dozen or more six-yearolds were distributed around the restaurant like restless chickens, waiting for Maria Kowalski and their ride.

  Quill, along with two harried school aides, was chaperoning the trip.

  “What could I do? Poor Maria tried everyone else.

  By the time she got to me she was desperate. It’s midweek and things are a little slow at the Inn, and I thought, why not? How hard can it be to take care of a

  bunch of

  . . . stop that immediately, Quincy.” She

  reached across the table and removed the glass sugar jar

  4

  Claudia Bishop

  from his sticky grasp. She peered doubtfully at it. “How

  full was it, Marge?”

  “Near the top.”

  “Well, it’s only a quarter full now.”

  Marge, whose barracuda instincts had helped make

  her the richest woman in Tompkins County, gave

  Quincy the benefit of the glare that had reduced corporate raiders to jelly and snapped, “What’d ya do with the sugar, kid?”

  Quincy said “Phuut!” and sprayed spit and sugar all

  over the linoleum-topped table.

  “D
o you suppose he ate it all?” Quill rubbed her temples with both hands. “If he ate it all he’s going to go into glucose shock, or something.”

  “You wish,” Marge said unfeelingly. “At least he’d

  be unconscious. I tell you what, you take him on over to

  the ER at the clinic and dump him there. It’ll be the

  smartest move you’ll make all week.”

  “I want to go to the ee-rr,” Quincy said.

  “You’ll be fine,” Quill said. “I mean, you feel okay,

  don’t you?”

  “If I don’t, do I get to go to the ee-rr?”

  “Is your tummy upset?” Quill looked at him anxiously. “Do you feel dizzy?”

  “What IS the ee-rr?” Quincy persisted, “I want to

  see it.”

  “No, you don’t,” Marge said.

  “Yes, I do.”

  “No, you don’t”

  “Yes, I DO!”

  Marge thrust out one meaty arm and clamped her

  palm over Quincy’s mouth. “Shut up, you.”

  GROUND TO A HALT

  5

  “Watch out!” Quill said hastily, “He’ll . . .”

  “Ow!” Marge snatched her hand away.

  “. . . bite,” Quill finished.

  Quincy smacked his lips in a thoughtful way.

  The door to the diner swung open. Quill turned in

  her seat. “Thank goodness. There’s Maria.” She rose,

  slung her purse over her shoulder, grabbed Quincy gently by the back of the neck, and waved at the grade-school teacher. Maria Kowalski propped the front door

  to the diner open and waved cheerfully back. She was a

  comfortable-looking woman in her mid-thirties, with a

  round, open face, dark eyes, and dark brown hair drawn

  back in a practical ponytail. She was dressed for the

  warm September weather in sandals, a droopy skirt, and

  a white cotton blouse untucked at one end.

  “I see you made it, Quill!” she called.

  Quill nodded.

  “Terrific!” Maria’s gaze swept around the diner.

  “People!” she shouted. She clapped her hands briskly

  together, “People! The van’s right outside at the curb.

  Line up nicely, please.” She frowned, suddenly, amid

  the general scraping of chairs and the surge toward the

  door. “Quincy? I saw that. Quill, if you could just pay

  a leetle bit closer atten . . . Quincy, if you pinch Emily

  one more time, that’s it for you, young man. No trip to

  see the nice little pigs. You’ll have to stay with Miss

  Quilliam up at her nice Inn for the rest of the day.”