"I could've sworn I put that book right here", Louisa said, pointing to the shelf where she filed the cookbook the night before. "Help me look, Seth."
Seth rose slowly from the other Queen Anne chair in the corner. He gave the shelves a glance and couldn't find anything out of the ordinary.
“Are you sure you didn’t misplace it?”
“How could I?” Louisa was incredulous. “That book was exactly where I put it when I went to bed last night.”
“Then it should turn up, shouldn’t it?”
She shrugged. “Well, I suppose you’re right.” She hated being proven wrong. Leave it to Louisa to feel defeated.
They paused for a moment before Seth suggested they adjourn to the common room to watch TV.
“I was interested in watching Breakfast in Canada, you know, to see how Blaine and Suzanne are doing.”
“Blaine told me last night they’d be all right.”
“Don’t you want to know what they’re up to?”
They’re up to their usual, Louisa thought, only they’re doing it in front of the entire country.
“All right,” she agreed. “It’ll give us something to do this morning”.
Seth and Louisa sat on each end of the common room’s sofa, glancing at each other briefly before he picked up the remote. Louisa fidgeted a bit before the familiar strains of the breakfast theme filled the room.
“Hello, I’m Paige Gilbert. Today on Breakfast in Canada we’ll continue our report on Canadian Justice: an in-depth look at the Gail Miller murder case. We’ll also have a preview of this year’s Grey Cup championship between the Montreal Alouettes and the Calgary Stampeders .. First, though, we have our holiday series on family traditions in the kitchen. Please welcome, from Claypool, Ontario’s, Vineyards Inn…Chef Blaine Carroll and his sous-chef for the day, his sister Suzanne.”
Paige always thought the smells emanating from the studio kitchen were quite wonderful. It did remind her of her parents’ kitchen. Of course, she always complimented all the chefs who appeared on Breakfast in Canada, but she made it especially important to shower accolades on the Carroll brother-sister team.
When Suzanne pulled the first apple pie from the oven to cool, she took it to the counter where the camera was pointed. Thank goodness for oven mitts, or she would have had scarred hands by now.
“When you take the pie from the oven, make sure you have a place to cool it…” Suzanne instructed. “Or else,” she dropped the pie on the cooling rack and yelled, “OUCH! That’s what happens when you get burned.”
She sniffed the air, and noticed something wasn’t right. She motioned to Paige, who just shrugged as the odor got stronger. Uh-oh.
“Blaine! Get over to the oven! And find a fire extinguisher, NOW!”
Paige just smiled at the camera.
“We’ll be right back.”
*****
So would Maria, after she had a good day’s sleep. All she wanted was to go home to her nice, clean, comfortable…and warm, bed. That sounded good right about now. Once again, she got stuck pulling a late nighter after most of her students and residents packed up and went home for the holidays. Maria was alone, and she resented it.
She heard the door creak open, or at least, that was what she thought.
“Excuse me?” she asked. “Haven’t you ever heard of knocking?”
Elise Jarrett walked in, emotionless, with Rene Gauthier standing behind her, arms folded. “We received your fax this morning,” Jarrett told Maria.
“And? You didn’t have to come all the way over here to tell me that.”
“Detective Jarrett and I reviewed your records and we have reason to believe you’re keeping something from us.”
“What else can I tell you two?” Maria sounded indignant. “I cooperated fully with you. I gave you every single piece of information I know.”
“We’ll settle that at the station, “ Jarrett said. “We’d like for you to come with us.”
Maria shook her head violently. “I don’t think so. I’m not going anywhere.”
Gauthier held up a pair of handcuffs. “Will we have to force you?”
Maria held her hands out.
“Do what you have to. You’ll hear from my lawyer.”
*****
Apple pies, burnt or otherwise, were the farthest things from Thérèse Armand’s mind. She and Stephane had thought about selecting a recipe for their Christmas classes, but they’d argued about it, and whether or not the pies should have flaky crusts or crumb toppings.
Maybe we can do both, Stephane encouraged. Maybe the year after. But we just can’t do it right now.
He and Thérèse sorted out the records and the menu planning. Stephane was busy typing a shopping list into their computer when Noelle walked in the room. She kissed her father lightly on the cheek. He returned the affection with an embrace as she handed an envelope to Thérèse.
“Maman, this came for you. I signed for it. Someone named Hebert. I think it’s from cousin André, but I’m not sure.”
Hebert….Hebert. Thérèse hadn’t heard that name in years. The only Hebert she knew of was a distant branch of her family who lived in Louisiana. Could it be…?
“Bonjour, ma chère cousine,” the letter began. “Nous invitons…”
Her heart skipped a beat or two.
It was!
Perhaps this was the chance Thérèse had looked for for many years, and finally found. Finally, she would get to see the brothers, sisters, uncles, aunts, cousins, she missed so much.
She looked up from her place and gave her family a very unusual smile. “My dear family…how would you like to go south for Christmas?”
*****
“No. The statue of Jeanne d’Arc isn’t to the south. It’s to the southeast.”
Patrick MacPherson grumbled. He thought he had the church grounds accurately drawn out on the crude paper map.
He knelt in front of the gilt statue of St. Joan on horseback and took something else out of his pocket. It looked like a kneaded rubber eraser, but Patrick hoped he’d erase more than just graphite from paper.
“What little they know, the fools,” Patrick said, as if he were carrying on a conversation with the martyr. “Once this baby blows up and goes boom, they’ll all be burning. Just like you, Joan of Arc. Except for them, they’ll all be burning with the fires of hell!”
He smiled with glee at the word hell. What a lovely place, the inferno. Desecration would be a small price to pay when he could wipe out an entire congregation.
As he planted the rest of the faux erasers along the perimeter of the building, he recited a childhood prayer as it were just another schoolyard rope jumping verse.
“Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil…”
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