This story is purely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to person's living or dead, or to events that may have occurred, is purely coincidental.
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Mark Stevens
I would like to welcome my previous as well as hopefully new readers back to enjoy this story. However, should you have not read any of the Porterville books before you should do so
- Porterville 2. Murder in Porterville 3. Silver Candlesticks
All three stories are stand alone, however, a lot of the same characters from the first book return for more adventures.
To my old readers: Welcome back. To my new ones, welcome aboard.
The Silver Candlesticks
PROLOGUE
THIRTY YEARS AGO
The old woman was silent as she watched her young assistant enter the room. As she studied the girl's face, the old woman was overcome with conflicting emotions. She had trusted the girl. In fact, after working side by side for two years, Grace Littlefield had come to love her young assistant. Now, seeing the girl standing before her, the old woman felt her heart fill with great sadness. However, the next heartbeat caused Grace's emotion to turn from sadness to hatred. She should have been a better judge of character, she chided herself.
The assistant stood to the side of Mrs. Littlefield's wheelchair. She offered no greeting to her employer.
"Have you finished packing, Miss George?"
"Yes."
Grace Littlefield took a deep breath. "Please have a seat before you go."
Celeste George walked across the room. There was a fireplace where two large wingback chairs were located, one on each side. A nice fire was burning, and for a brief second Celeste enjoyed the warmth it put off.
"What made you decide to do such a thing? You did excellent work from the very beginning."
"Mrs. Littlefield, I asked you several times for a raise. If my work was as excellent as you claim, why did you always turn me down when I asked you for one? I'll be the first to admit I was wrong. I should have never taken the money."
"You are so right. Young lady, it was not your money to take. I trusted you with a household account, and I expected you to treat it respectfully and wisely. You proved yourself wrong on both accounts."
"I've told you that I'm going to pay back the thousand dollars I took," Celeste reminded the older woman.
"You certainly will," Mrs. Littlefield snapped. "I'm going to expect a payment every month until it's paid back."
"Will you keep the promise you made me?"
From her chair, Grace Littlefield glared across the room at Celeste. "That I will keep your theft between the two of us?"
At the younger girl's nod, Mrs. Littlefield said, "I told you I would. And I will continue keeping it as long as you keep the payments coming in."
Celeste stood to her feet. "I would appreciate that. You can count on the payments. You have my word on that matter."
Celeste eyed the telephone on the desk. "May I use the telephone to call a cab?"
Receiving a nod from the woman, Celeste called a local taxi to come pick her up. She was told it would be a thirty minute wait. She gave Grace Littlefield's address to the dispatcher and ended her call.
"I'll be leaving now."
As she started for the door, Grace Littlefield's voice stopped her.
"On your way out, will you please send Martha in? I have some things to go over with her."
Celeste turned to face her former employer. "Joseph took her into town to take care of some things. They left right after lunch."
"That's right. I remember now that Martha told me their plans this morning at breakfast. Very well. Goodbye, Miss George. Good luck to you."
As she reached the door, the older woman called out Celeste's name, and the girl turned around.
"I thought you should know one other thing. You may have thought that I underpaid you all this time, and perhaps I have. Would you like to know the real reason I turned you down each time you asked for a raise?"
Celeste remained silent, making no comment.
"Miss George, I felt so lucky to have you in my life that not only did I grow to love you like a daughter, but I treated you as such. Until this morning, you were listed in my will to receive this house and half of all my assets. Of course that has all changed now. Goodbye, Miss George. I hope you find what you need in life."
Celeste watched while the woman wheeled herself up to the desk. As she stood there, something snapped inside Celeste George's brain, and she lost all ability to reason and think rationally. Her anger was such that the girl became unaware of anything except the burning anger that was quickly taking over her body.
Looking at the mantle above the fireplace, Celeste let her eyes rest on a pair of silver candlesticks. Her body fueled by anger, the girl quickly picked one up and turned around. Grace Littlefield had her back to the young girl.
Celeste quietly walked up behind the woman's wheelchair. The heavy carpet on the floor muted any sound that Celeste's shoes might have caused. The quiet and calm feeling that had been in the room a moment ago was suddenly lost from Celeste. The girl heard no other sound other than the one caused by the silver candlestick as she slammed it against the side of Grace Littlefield's face. When the object hit the woman a loud crack filled the room.
The Littlefield woman was taken completely by surprise and never realized what had happened. One moment she was sitting at her desk looking at some papers, the next, her head was leaning to one side resting against her neck. Blood was trickling along her neck making its way slowly inside the collar of her frilly blouse. Grace Littlefield stared across the room, her eyes seeing nothing.
A scream came out of Celeste's mouth, but the young girl was hardly aware of it. She dropped the candlestick.
"My God, what have I done?"
There was no answer to her question. Grace Littlefield was dead, her life ended by Celeste George.
Celeste began wringing her hands. What was she to do? Was there some way she could make it disappear? Make it go away?
Celeste looked at her wristwatch. She judged that she had twenty minutes, give or take, to do something about this. But what? For a moment she couldn't seem to think. Then an idea suddenly occurred to her.
Celeste carefully set the candlestick she was still holding on top of a Kleenex tissue hoping it was enough to keep any of the blood located on its base from landing on the desk top. Next she pulled the wheelchair away from the desk and pushed it over to the far side of the room where a brick mason had erected a very attractive inside flower bed. The man had carefully laid each block in such a way that a beautiful pattern had been formed by the time he was finished.
Pushing the chair alongside the wall of bricks, Celeste brought the wheelchair to a complete stop. Taking a deep breath, she twisted her body in a way she hoped Grace's body would fall against the brick wall supporting one side of the flower bed.
The plan worked except for one thing Celeste hadn't counted on. Her foot slipped and slid between the chair and the brick flower bed. As Grace Littlefield's head struck the flower bed, Celeste felt a sharp pain travel from her foot all the way up her body.
She looked down and discovered that the wheelchair had crushed her left foot, making it impossible to move away. Mrs. Littlefield had been a stout woman all of her adult life, which now made it next to impossible for Celeste to free her foot. In the meantime, the pain in Celeste's foot was hurting more with each heartbeat.
It took her a few moments, but Celeste finally was able to get her foot free. She looked once more, making sure that Grace's head was up against the brick wall. Satisfied that it looked as if the older woman had had an accident, Celeste eyed the room. Feeling relieved that it appeared to look as if a sad home accident had happened, Celeste was walking toward the door when another idea popped into her head. She would leave a note explaining her absence from the Littlefield home.
She picked up a notepad from the desk and addressed it to the older woman. She explained that while Mrs. Littlefield had been napping, Celeste had received a telephone call telling her that a close relative had been rushed to the hospital and that things didn't look good. She ended the note telling the old woman how much she had enjoyed working with her and that she would miss her. She even signed the note "Love Celeste." Satisfied, Celeste placed the note to one side of the desk.
She turned back around and eyed the room one last time. Celeste snatched the candlestick up, Kleenex and all.
Heading for the door once more, Celeste was struck with another idea. She walked over to the fireplace and picked up the matching candlestick. It might be best if both of these are gone, she decided.
Celeste had left her bags in the entryway. By the time she reached them, the pain in her foot was pounding. She quickly placed both candlesticks inside one of her bags and carried them outside to wait for the taxi.
Celeste had no clue where she would go or what she would do.
CHAPTER ONE
THIRTY YEARS LATER
"Catherine, no one can make a peach cobbler the way you do," Alice Cooper praised. "I hope you will share some of your recipes with me after Brian and I are married."
Britt Williams grinned at his mother. "You're out of luck, Alice," he said. "You know that good cooks never give out their secrets. Mom's one of those," he added.
Catherine Williams sat her coffee cup down and looked across the table at her only son. For a moment she didn't speak. However, the look coming from her eyes said plenty.
Britt felt his face turn red. He blew his mother a kiss. "You know I love you, Mom," he said. "Otherwise I would have never left city life and returned to Porterville.
It was true that Britt had returned to his hometown two years ago. Britt Williams, a published and very successful author, had returned to Porterville because of a suggestion made by his publishing agent. Carl Turner had suggested that Britt write a book about people living in a small town. Britt, having grown up in Porterville, Oklahoma, thought it a good idea and returned. At the time he didn't have any idea that he would meet and fall in love with a very special person. Devon McKenzie was that person, and for that reason alone, Britt was glad he had taken his agent's advice.
Arriving back in Porterville, Britt, while researching the town's history, had uncovered a dark secret the McKenzie family had in their past. Solving the mystery had led to Alice Cooper and Devon McKenzie discovering they were not only brother and sister, but twins as well.
A short time later, Britt found himself in the middle of another mystery. A school teacher had been murdered, and once again, Britt aided Brian Poteet in solving it.
"I have no doubt that you love me, Britt Williams," his mother said breaking into his thoughts. "However, I want to assure you that I will share my recipes with whomever I please. That, my child, is my choice." The stern look disappeared from her face and was replaced by one filled with love. "Am I clear?"
"Yes, Mom," Britt smiled. "I'll behave."
Upon returning to his home town, Britt's research had landed him in the middle of a mystery concerning the McKenzie family. Elaine McKenzie's father, as well has her grandfather, had initiated the growth of Porterville. Britt had discovered a dark secret that had been buried for many years. With everything brought out into the open, not only did Britt fall in love with Devon McKenzie, but he also discovered Devon's real identity and that the man had a twin sister he never knew existed. Alice Cooper had been living in the same town as her twin brother, yet neither of them knew the real truth about their relationship.
Catherine turned toward Alice and said, "To answer your question, my dear, I will gladly share with you anything I have."
"How is being chief of police working out for you, Brian?" Devon McKenzie asked.
Brian pushed his empty plate to the side. His friend was referring to a recent election which had allowed him to take the place of Porterville's retiring chief. "It's okay so far. Been sort of quiet around town," he added.
"Watch out, Brian," Britt warned. "You don't want to jinx anything."
"How's the new guy working out?" Devon asked. "I'm not sure I've heard his name."
"Chris Vaughn? Chris is okay. He's still a little rough around the edges, but I think in time he'll make a good law enforcement officer."
The doorbell rang, and Catherine stood to her feet. "That will be Larry and Bonnie Owens," she called over her shoulder.
The group around the table greeted the Methodist minister and his wife as they entered Catherine's dining room.
"Sorry we're late," Larry apologized. "Our meeting went longer than I anticipated."
"Were other ministers there as well?" Britt asked.
"Britt Williams!" Catherine gave her son a particular look. "Behave yourself," she ordered.
Larry Owens gave his hostess a grin. "It's okay, Catherine," he said. "Everyone knows that preachers like to talk." He turned to Britt. "To answer your question, there were five others there just like me."
The rest of the evening was spent discussing several topics, one being the wedding of Brian Poteet and Alice Cooper.
"Are you getting excited?" Bonnie asked Alice.
Looking at her husband to be, Alice said, "This may sound strange, but the excitement hasn't hit me yet. I'm sure it will the closer it gets to the wedding," she added with a shrug of her shoulders.
"June's upon us," her brother reminded. "June tenth will be here before you know it," he added.
"I understand you are going to have your wedding reception in the McKenzie mansion," Bonnie said to Alice.
"That's right, Britt and Devon, you're no longer living in the mansion. I had forgotten that you had moved out to your cabin. How do you like country living?" Larry asked.
"We love it," Britt answered for them both.
"I've moved back into my parent's house," Alice spoke up.
"We're going to live there after we're married while our house is being built out by the lake," Brian explained.
"A new home. That has to be so exciting," Bonnie remarked.
"I think, Devon, that giving the town of Porterville your family mansion was a very loving gesture on your part," Catherine said returning with a pot of fresh coffee.
"The McKenzie and Cooper families have been good to everyone," Brian Poteet said. The look he sent Alice's way was one that left no one sitting around Catherine's table any doubt about the feelings he had for the girl.
"Was it hard to move into a smaller place?" Larry asked.
A look of tenderness appeared on Devon's face. He said, "Not hard at all. I could live anywhere as long as this guy is near me." He smiled at Britt.
"Is Kathy Applebee catering your reception?" Bonnie asked.
"She is," Alice answered.
"She'll do an awesome job," the pastor praised. "She handles all of the meals at the church."
"I've known Kathy for twenty years or better," Catherine Williams spoke up. "She is so good at her job. She's a true artist where food is concerned."
The new chief of police gave Britt a warm smile. "I know I've told you before, but Alice and I can't thank you enough to giving us the cruise for a wedding present. I still think it's too much, but we appreciate it just the same."
"That is such a lovely present," Bonnie said. "You are such a sweet and thoughtful person, Britt."
"Let's just say it helped that I happened to receive the rest of my money for The Grave Marker," Britt explained.
"What number is this book?" Larry asked.
"Thirteen," Britt answered.
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
When Britt and Devon followed the Methodist minister and his wife out to their car, Larry suddenly came to a stop.
"May I ask you two something?" he asked.
"Anything," Britt answered.
"When are you two going to let me marry you?"
The dark night around them covered up the surprise that registered on both men's faces. It was finally Britt who spoke.
"Would you do that, Larry?" he asked.
"Why wouldn't I? You did hear that they've legalized same sex marriages, right?"
Devon reached for his lover's hand. "I can't tell you how much that means to me. To both of us," he added. "However, let's get Alice and Brian married first."
Britt quickly agreed. "We appreciate the fact you would do that. For now, let's just hang loose, okay? This is Alice and Brian's time."
"Just know that Bonnie and I are here for the both of you. Always," Larry ended. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
While Britt and Devon were getting ready for bed, the subject of marriage came back up.
"How do you feel about getting married?" Britt asked.
Devon didn't answer right away. He appeared to be thinking about his answer. Finally he said, "I love you, Britt."
Britt leaned over and kissed Devon softly on the mouth. Then he said, "I love you, Babe. I can't imagine my life without you in it."
"The same goes for me as well." Devon said softly.
"When the time is right, we'll be married," Britt said.
Devon crawled in bed. Grinning at Britt, he said, "For the record, if I asked you to marry me, would you?"
Britt pulled his tee shirt over his head and lay down on the bed beside Devon. He kissed the man tenderly and said, "Ask away, Love."
The bed suddenly shook as Devon rolled over the side and landed on the floor on his knees. He reached out and took hold of Britt's hand, pulling the man to the edge of the bed. Still holding onto Britt, Devon asked his question.
"Britt Williams, would you do me the honor of marrying me? I realize I might not be worthy of your love, but I am hoping that you will overlook all of my faults."
Britt's eyes sparkled as he looked into his lover's face. "Devon McKenzie, I can think of nothing more exciting than to live the rest of my life being connected with you."
"Then your answer is `yes'?"
"Oh, it's definitely `yes'." Britt leaned over and kissed Devon.
Scooting back across the bed, Britt said, "However, let's marry when the time is right."
Devon stood to his feet and got back on the bed. "You are right."
Britt opened his arms and pulled Devon to him. "For now, I want you to show me just how much you love me."
Their love making started out slowly and gently, but rapidly went into overdrive as their feelings began controlling their bodies. When Britt felt Devon enter him, he was made even more aware of just how much they really did love each other.