Dread on Arrival

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Authors: Claudia Bishop

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Praise for Claudia Bishop’s
Hemlock Falls Mysteries
“Always a great reading experience … Claudia Bishop writes an enthralling amateur-sleuth mystery.”—
The Best Reviews
“An entertaining, quirky, and offbeat mystery … A special treat for amateur-sleuth lovers.”—
Midwest Book Reviews
“The reader can settle in Hemlock Falls comfortably.”—
The Armchair Detective
Praise for the Beaufort & Company Mysteries
by Claudia Bishop writing as Mary Stanton
“I was hooked from page one … This book should give Mary Stanton the same kind of cult following usually reserved for Charlaine Harris.”—Rhys Bowen, author of
Naughty in Nice
“Engaging and charismatic … Will be a breath of fresh air for fans of paranormal cozy mysteries.”—
Publishers Weekly
(starred review)“Spooky Southern charm and a wonderfully inventive approach to the afterlife.”—Madelyn Alt, national bestselling author of
Home for a Spell
“An elegant enchantment with a delightful heroine and a historic setting.”—Carolyn Hart, author of
Dead by Midnight
Berkley Prime Crime titles by Mary Stanton

 

DEFENDING ANGELS

 

ANGEL’S ADVOCATE

 

AVENGING ANGELS

 

ANGEL’S VERDICT

 

ANGEL CONDEMNED

 

Titles by Mary Stanton writing as Claudia Bishop

 

Hemlock Falls Mysteries

 

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

 

A CAROL FOR A CORPSE

 

TOAST MORTEM

 

DREAD ON ARRIVAL

 

The Casebooks of Dr. McKenzie Mysteries

 

THE CASE OF THE ROASTED ONION

 

THE CASE OF THE TOUGH-TALKING TURKEY

 

THE CASE OF THE ILL-GOTTEN GOAT

 

Anthologies

 

A PLATEFUL OF MURDER

 

DEATH IN TWO COURSES

 

Dread
on Arrival

 

 

Claudia Bishop

 

 

 

BERKLEY PRIME CRIME, NEW YORK

 

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,
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Books Ltd.) • Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia
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Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) • Penguin Books
(South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa
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.
DREAD ON ARRIVAL
A Berkley Prime Crime Book / published by arrangement with the author
PUBLISHING HISTORYBerkley Prime Crime mass-market edition / April 2012
Copyright © 2012 by Mary Stanton.Excerpt of
A Taste for Murder
by Claudia Bishop copyright © 1994 by Mary Stanton.Cover illustration by Karen Strelecki.Cover design by Diana Kolsky.Interior text design by Laura K. Corless.
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: 978-1-101-56140-9
BERKLEY
®
PRIME CRIMEBerkley 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.BERKLEY
®
PRIME CRIME and the PRIME CRIME logo are trademarks of
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
ALWAYS LEARNING
PEARSON
For Nate

 

Cast of Characters

 

The Inn at Hemlock Falls
Sarah “Quill” Quilliam-McHale
owner, manager
Margaret “Meg” Quilliam
master chef, owner, Quill’s sister
Jackson McHale
Quill’s three-year-old son
Doreen Muxworthy
housekeeper, Jack’s nanny
Dina Muir
grad student, receptionist
Kathleen Kiddermeister
head waitress
Bjarne Bjarnsen
head chef
Elizabeth Chou
sous chef
Mike
groundskeeper
Phillip “Skipper” Bryant
guest, antiques collector
Andrea Bryant
guest, Skipper’s wife
Jukka Angstrom
guest, antiques collector
Edmund Tree
a guest, producer and host of Your Ancestor’s Attic
Melanie Myers
guest, Edmund’s assistant producer and director
Marco
bodyguard
Bruce
bodyguard
Joseph “Belter” Barcini
guest, producer and host of Pawn-o-Rama
Josepha “Mamma” Barcini
guest, producer, Belter’s mother
Josephine Barcini
guest, producer, Belter’s sister
Max
a dog
And others
Citizens of Hemlock Falls Rose Ellen Whitman
owner of Elegant Antiques
Marge Peterson-Schmidt
businesswoman, the wealthiest citizen in Tompkins County
Harland Peterson
dairy farmer, Marge’s husband
Elmer Henry
mayor of Hemlock Falls
Adela Henry
Elmer’s wife
Davy Kiddermeister
sheriff of Hemlock Falls
Howie Murchison
town justice, practicing lawyer
Miriam Doncaster
town librarian
And others
STAFF OF LA BONNE GOUTÈ CULINARY ACADEMY Madame LeVasque
owner, CFO
Clarissa Sparrow
newly named director, expert in pastry
Raleigh Brewster
chef, soups and stews
Jim Chen
chef, fish and seafood
Pietro Giancava
chef, sauces and sommelier
Bernard LeVasque (deceased, but very much a presence) Bismarck
a cat
Table of Contents

 

Prologue
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
Epilogue
Prologue

 

Edmund Tree stood in front of the painting displayed on the shoulder-high easel and smiled toothily at Ida Mae Clarkson. He was tall and thin. His scanty blond hair fringed his pink scalp like a hairy doily. He was dressed in an elegant three-piece suit; navy blue, with pale pinstripes. Ida Mae Clarkson thought he looked a lot smaller in person than he appeared on TV.

“And what have you got for us here at
Your Ancestor’s Attic
today, Mrs. Clarkson?”

The grip on the number three camera panned from Edmund to the painting. Ida Mae knew the guy was called a grip. She’d gotten familiar with the TV talk right off the bat. It didn’t do to let these highfalutin types think they could push a person around.

The painting was in oil, about twenty inches across and at least seventy-two inches high. It was very old and a bit flaky around the edges. At least as old as Ida Mae’s great-aunt Cecilia, who had bequeathed the thing to the Clarksons, instead of any of her money, which had annoyed Ida Mae to no end and still did. A three-tiered marble fountain sat in the middle of the canvas. Three sparrows perched on the grass at the fountain’s base. A platter of lemons, oranges, and grapes sat to the left of the fountain. Ida Mae, who had dressed with care for this, her first TV appearance, nervously re-buttoned the jacket of her best black pantsuit. She hoped like heck her stomach wasn’t sticking out. That British accent of Mr. Tree’s was a lot easier to understand when she and the coffee club sat and watched the show at home in Delray Beach. Here under the bright lights he seemed to talk too darn fast. She was confused and a little uncertain and not generally used to being either.

“Those grapes look so realistic that one could almost find one’s self plucking the fruit and eating it, doesn’t one, Mrs. Clarkson?”

Well, that was pretty stupid. That painting had been in her guest room for twenty-two years and nobody had tried to eat it yet. “Be a darn fool if you did,” Ida Mae said brusquely. “All’s you get would be a mouthful of paint.” She smiled nervously and wondered if her deodorant was working the way it should. “And call me Ida Mae, Mr. Tree. Most folks do.”

Ida Mae was short and round. In addition to her best black pantsuit, she wore a new pair of black strappy sandals with silk roses pinned to the ankle straps and a bright pink cotton blouse. She wiggled her fingers at the camera, so that the family at home in Delray Beach would know she was thinking of them despite the glamour of her being on the TV show like she was.

“That perfect illusion is precisely the point,” Edmund said with a show of well-bred, if snooty, excitement. “This painting is of an extremely special type that goes back all the way to the ancient Greeks.”

That sounded pretty good. Better yet, it sounded pretty valuable. Ida Mae sent a brief, silent prayer skyward and said hopefully, “It came down to us from my great-aunt Cecilia. On my husband’s side, she was. Auntie had the best taste of all the Clarksons, which isn’t saying much, now that I think on it, especially if you—”

“The style is called trompe l’oeil,” Edmund Tree interrupted smoothly. “There are many valuable trompe l’oeil works in the great cathedrals of the world. I refer of course to Antonio da Correggio’s
Assumption of the Virgin
in the Duomo of Parma, to Pietro da Cortona’s
Allegory of Divine Providence
in the Palazzo Barberini, and of course to the works of that great, whimsical Carpaccio himself.”

Ida Mae shifted her black faux-leather purse from her left arm to her right. The word “Carpaccio” was the only halfway familiar word in this flood of foreign nonsense. She and the coffee club girls ate out at least twice a week. “Tuna?” she said. “You’ve lost me there, sonny. What’s tuna got to do with this trump loy stuff?”

“Trompe l’oeil,” Edmund said, with an air of disdain Ida Mae was quick to spot. “A rough translation would be ‘fool the eye.’”

“Didn’t fool me any,” Ida Mae said. “Those aren’t real grapes. You’re saying it fooled you? And you on TV and all? Who’s going to pay me a bunch of money to get fooled?”

“Oh, many, many patrons of the arts are ardent supporters of trompe l’oeil. The phrase refers to a special way of painting images. The artist renders them as real as possible. This creates an optical illusion. The illusion that the subject matter is in three dimensions. You feel as if you can pick the object up, but you can’t, of course. Hence the meaning: fool the eye.”

“So what’s it worth?” TV audience or no TV audience, Ida Mae had always favored the blunt approach. It saved time and blather.

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