Travel should be broadening, as long as the “what to pack list” doesn’t include “shroud” or “Kevlar.” “The Killing Winds” has a new detective and her mentor encountering a killer on a Patagonian trek, and “The Great Bedbug Incident and the Invitation of Doom” is a tale of travel horrors with an unexpected ending in London.
Even an invitation to fun and games doesn’t have to be anything of the sort. “Muggins” tells a tale of how a chance game of cribbage can change a life, and “The Mysterious Affair at the Escape Room” seems like an innocent diversion for mystery lovers until it turns out that more is at stake than solving the puzzle.
The workplace should be the most polite and professional of situations, but we see that isn’t the case when the government contract in “RFP/RIP” gives new meaning to the word “deadline.” “The Dame and Thaddeus Birdwhistle” teaches us that you never know what kind of new occupation you will discover in a good book. And in “All Tomorrow’s Parties,” we see a series of snapshots of a party of co-workers that begins with melancholy and turns to horror in less time than it takes a glass to shatter.
William Faulkner wrote, “The past is never dead. It’s not even past.” This is especially true of three of the stories: “The Color of Envy” is a cautionary story of greed and science (or is it magic?) in the old South. “Aumakua” combines family traditions, local legends, and Hawaiian history, with a treasure at stake. And in “True Colors,” a woman prominent in Washington, DC’s, highest circles must take action when her wild past catches up with her—from beyond the grave.
But never mind all my warnings. I cordially invite you to step into this literary parlor and help yourself to these seventeen deadly little morsels.
Dana Cameron writes across many genres, but especially crime and speculative fiction. Her work, inspired by her career in archaeology, has won multiple Anthony, Agatha, and Macavity Awards, and has been nominated for the Edgar Award. Dana’s Emma Fielding archaeology mysteries were optioned by Muse Entertainment; the third movie, based on More Bitter than Death, premiered on the Hallmark Movies & Mysteries channel in January, 2019. When she’s not traveling or visiting museums, she’s usually yelling at the TV about historical inaccuracies. http://www.danacameron.com
THE DAME AND THADDEUS BIRDWHISTLE, by Karen Cantwell
Amelia Birdwhistle rarely regretted her quiet life in Back Bay as wife and mother. The job, while lacking sparkle and excitement, did provide comfort and stability. She never wanted for anything, really.
She had married Angus Birdwhistle in the spring of 1945 and their son, Thaddeus, was born the following year. He brought great joy to their lives. Although only six years old, Thaddeus was notably precocious. He read newspapers with a voracious appetite, and he followed the stock market religiously. His favorite playwright was William Shakespeare. At night, before retiring to bed, he would stand on a small stage and recite soliloquies from Hamlet or Macbeth or Othello. But not from Romeo and Juliet. He actually did not care much for that one.
Ah, yes, Amelia and Angus Birdwhistle were most proud of their gifted young son. What parent wouldn’t be?
So imagine their surprise when Thaddeus appeared at the breakfast table one bright Sunday morning, hair uncombed, shirt misbuttoned and untucked, and his usual smile replaced by a scowl.
He crumpled into a chair, rubbing his bloodshot eyes. “Lady, pour me a cup o’ joe, would ya? I was up until dawn with a dish in a dive.”
Amelia spilled her tea.
Angus lowered a corner of his newspaper to see what alliterating hooligan had stolen into their home an hour before church. When he saw the hooligan was his own son, he raised an eyebrow.
Thaddeus’s coarse tone had Amelia perplexed. He had always been such a pleasant and well-behaved boy. Even at two years old, when other children were being terrible, Thaddeus was agreeable, never arguing when it was time to practice piano or his times tables.
Amelia felt her son’s forehead. “Are you feeling all right, Teddy?”
Thaddeus placed a book on the table. “Listen, precious, I’ve got a lot on my mind. Mac’s lookin’ for a dame, and I don’t know how he’s gonna find her.”
Angus looked from his son to the book and then to his wife. “He has picked up the vernacular and attitude of those blasted dime novels Mary gave him. What was she thinking?” He shook a finger at his son. “Thaddeus Birdwhistle, you will address your mother with respect and enunciate clearly at all times in this house.”
“Please don’t yell at the boy,” Amelia said. “Angus, dear, I’ve been schooling myself on the nuances of raising a genius child. Let me handle this.” She sat at the table near her son. “Tell me, Teddy, what exactly is a ‘dish in a dive’?”
“Amelia!” Angus scolded.
“The experts say to encourage creative play,” she told Angus. “Watch and learn.”
Thaddeus shook his head. “A dish is a broad, a lady, but you know, not a fancy lady. And a dive is, I don’t know, a joint, a place with cheap drinks and greasy food, and tunes playin’ on the juke. Not a place for the likes of you, I’m pretty sure.”
Angus huffed and returned to his newspaper.
“That is very interesting,” Amelia said, lifting the small paperback book from the table. The cover was slightly tattered. Their maid, Mary, had found several of them in a bin at a yard sale. Four for fifteen cents. She thought Thaddeus would enjoy them, which he did, immensely, much to Angus’s dismay. Amelia read the title of this one aloud. “Invitation to Murder, a Mac Hardcase Mystery. Did you learn those words in this book?”
“I’m not readin’ that one. I’m writin’ it.”
The crude diction bothered Amelia greatly, but intent on encouraging creativity, she did not correct him. She flipped through the pages to discover they were mostly blank with the exception of Thaddeus’s pencil longhand on the first few. “This book was blank when Mary gave it to you?”
“That’s what I’m sayin’. So I’m writin’ Mac’s next case.” He snatched it from her hands. “But I’m not ready for you to read it yet. Don’t need the slam to muddle me up.”
Amelia was desperate to help her son in this obvious hour of need, but his new lexicon confused her. “Slam?”
“Play it like a zapper,” Thaddeus said. “You know, throw me a bad review.”
“Goodness, Teddy, I would never criticize your artistic endeavors. But if you like, you can tell me about your story as written thus far. Paraphrase for me.”
Thaddeus straightened some in his chair. “Sure. I can do that. Chapter one, Mac gets a call late at night from his buddy Jimmy Jiggs. Jimmy can’t talk on the phone—he wants to meet Mac in person right away.”
“Why?” Amelia asked.
“No reason given,” Thaddeus said. “Jimmy doesn’t always run the straight and narrow, but they’ve been pals since primary school, so Mac doesn’t question. They’re supposed to meet at a joint on Main, only Mac hears two gunshots, boom, boom, comin’
