Welcome back to our interactive 1920’s culinary mystery serial!
The “ingredients” for this episode are from the very talented “Kraftycat” at Kraftycat Creations. You don’t have to be a crazy cat person to enjoy her blog. Not only does she make adorable kitty toys, she makes wonderful gifts and jewelry for the humans. I hope you’ll check out her great blog.
It seems that our “ingredients” bring as many questions as answers lately. What’s in store this week? Keep reading to find out! Bon appétit!
15. Ribs, Watermelon, Corn
With Apparition
A vial of smelling salts that Maestro produced out of nowhere brought Mattie around from 
her faint. Andy and Vicar Varley helped her to the vicarage. Everyone was concerned about the older woman, but she insisted that it was “only the vapors” and that she didn’t want anyone fussing over her.
The clang of pots and pans in the kitchen made me cringe. It sounded like Maestro Martino was tearing apart the unfamiliar room as he looked for things. The ghost chef had insisted that Mattie Maddox, and the rest of us too, needed a fortifying meal after the shock of seeing Daisy’s specter. Of course, Vicar Vance Varley and Mattie had no idea that Maestro was himself a poltergeist.
Soon the aroma of Maestro’s bourbon baby back ribs dinner wafted to my nose as Andy, Granny Fanny, Mattie, the vicar, and I sat in the clergyman’s cozy parlor. I could imagine the ribs melting in my mouth and my stomach gave an impatient growl.
The vicar’s cautions to Mattie about sharing information with “strangers” — that would be us, made Andy Avis suspicious and he whispered his concerns to me. However, a discrete 
question revealed Vance Varley moved to Tybee Island from Gulfport, Mississippi only ten years before. So presumably he was nowhere around Savannah, Georgia at the time of Daisy’s demise. Besides, I was pretty sure he would be a bit young to be involved. When he again spoke to Mattie in a cautionary tone, she let him know where she stood, and explained to us.
“Vance has showed me great kindness since he came to Tybee. He also became my friend and confidant,” Mattie said and patted the vicar on his knee.
There were a few age spots and an enlarged vein on the top of her hand. It was clearly the hand of an old woman, but it did not look arthritic. I was relieved for the painter in her. It would be a shame for someone so talented to give up their art.
“Daisy wants me to tell what I know about her passing, else she would not have come to us. There would have been no apparition,” Mattie said in a level voice. “Vance, I know your only concern is for my safety, but I don’t want this shadow hanging over me anymore.”
She turned to the rest of us — Andy, Granny Fanny, and me. “Don’t think poorly of Vicar Varley,” she said, though she didn’t sound worried. “He’s only trying to protect me. You see, after Daisy died, I continued to work for Henry Kingston senior. However, when King Henry passed on, something odd happened.”
“Something odd, you say? What sort of odd?” Granny asked, and I supposed she wondered 
what could be stranger than ghosts appearing.
Mattie’s expression and tone said she suspected more than she was about to reveal. “After the funeral, I was surprised to see Byron Binghamton once again become very close to young Henry. See, I had overheard King Henry tell his son that the Binghamton boys weren’t welcome in his home any more. He told his son that he’d cut those ties if he knew what was good for him.
When the boy protested, Henry senior threatened to disinherit him. So at least outwardly, young Henry quit having anything to do with the two Binghamton brothers, athough I was pretty sure they all hung out together when nobody was looking. Why, they were so close you could spit a watermelon seed further than the space between them! I always said those three were thick as thieves…” she said and seemed far away in thought for a moment.
Mattie’s eyes were on her hands folded calmly in her lap. When she looked up, her tense frown suggested she wasn’t as calm as she appeared. She exhaled sharply, as if in frustration.
“Right after King Henry passed on, young Henry called me into his father’s library,” she said. “When I entered the room I could still smell Henry senior’s cologne and a trace of tobacco from his pipe. For a second it was as if he was still there. It made me angry to see the boy sitting in the chair behind the big desk. It was too soon, and it just wasn’t right,” Mattie said, clenching her hands. “But I held my peace. Then I saw those two Binghamton 
brothers lounging on the furniture…” she said.
“Or rather Byron was sprawled on the leather sofa. Bradley was sitting with his legs crossed in a chair. His posture was relaxed, but he looked tight as a drum. His eyes had dark shadows under them, and his mouth looked like the frown he wore was etched permanently into his face,” Mattie remembered. “Bradley acted so cold and detached that day, I couldn’t believe he went to the Church for his profession. But then again, maybe it makes sense,” she said in a pondering tone.
Then she gave herself a little shake and went back to the core of her story. “Anyhow, the group of them told me they were pensioning me off. It wasn’t just Henry III, as one might have thought. No, all three of them contributed. And I had the impression that Bradley Binghamton was behind it — he looked so stern, and he took over the speech when young Henry started blustering and threatened me,” Mattie said.
“Threatened you? How?” Granny asked her gently.
“There were all sorts of vague threats in that library,” Mattie answered shaking her head as if confused. “I didn’t fully understand what they were talking about, but I did grasp the fact that they wanted me away from there and they wanted me quiet. I just didn’t know what they seemed to think I knew about,” she said.
“And Bradley — Bishop Bradley Binghamton, you think he was behind it?” Andy asked.
“What I meant to say,” Mattie corrected herself. “I felt like Bradley was the one who wanted to pension me off, to pay me to keep quiet… even though I didn’t know what I was keeping quiet about…” she added looking confused. “I believed young Henry and Byron had something a lot worse in mind for me,” Mattie said with a shiver. “I actually think Bradley wouldn’t let them do something that bad, and made them basically pay me to go into hiding,” Mattie told us.
“They said I had to leave Savannah, and never show my face there again,” Mattie continued. “Back then, Tybee Island seemed far enough away. I’ve never been one to ‘think big’ as they say. In those days there was no road here. This barrier island was as far away from Savannah as I had ever been, so that was where I went. And I went as fast as I could too, I can tell you. Their threats were vague, but there was murder in their eyes,” she said and wrapped her arms around herself as if she was suddenly cold.
Andy looked at Vicar Vance Varley again. “And what is your part in all this?” my friend asked suspiciously. “You were pretty obvious about not wanting her to tell us anything.”
Vicar Varley shook his head as if in denial. “Oh no, son. You misunderstand,” the vicar began, but Mattie hurried to his rescue.
“I befriended the vicar when he first came to Tybee. For years I had felt isolated, imprisoned here. Vance didn’t have any family or friends anywhere in the Savannah area before he came here. So I felt safe in making friends with him. One day he wanted me to come to the mainland with him; he was being recognized for the work he’d done here on the island. I got upset and refused to go. Then I felt guilty, and I confided in him the things I’ve just told you,” she said.
Well, applesauce! Mattie Maddox told an interesting story, but it didn’t do a blessed thing but create even more questions. It reminded me of the knitting I ruined for Granny once when I was a kid. She made me unravel and untie every bit of it before I could go out to play.
As I saw it, the most tangled skein of yarn in this particular knitting basket was Henry Kingston, the young man who was actually a young punk. It didn’t surprise me. I thought back to the fancy shindig Granny catered at his mansion when I first came to Savannah. It was all part of a sting operation put in place by Granny Fanny’s old friend Moses Myrick, a revenuer. That’s right, a real life G-man.
Henry Kingston wasn’t found guilty of any crime related to that business, but his girlfriend 
sure was. And Kingston knew all about it, even if his fancy lawyer got him off the hook. Plus, Henry was a married man. The fact that his wife knew about his affair didn’t make him any less of a heel in my eyes.
A strain of opera rolled from the kitchen. I didn’t realize Maestro had such a voice. Apparently he liked to sing while he cooked. Granny had been so upset about having a ghost in her kitchen that he didn’t get to cook very often. I knew he enjoyed cooking though, because often I heard him at night, puttering in Granny’s kitchen. My stomach rumbled again, and I hoped that the aria heralded the arrival of dinner.
Regardless of the fact that Maestro Martino died centuries before, he had a wonderful Italian accent. It was not diminished when he unexpectedly tried to take on a southern accent to announce that dinner was ready. Andy and I looked at each other for a minute and then burst out laughing at his comical voice.
“Ya’ll come ‘n get it. Dinner’s ready,” Maestro announced in a bizarre combination of Italian and southern accents.
“Why do you laugh Signorina o Signore? I said it just as you taught me, Signore,” Maestro said sounding a bit crestfallen.
The anticipation was clear on every face when we saw the meal the ghost chef had spread on the table. He looked at our expressions and smiled, once again his bubbly self. Bourbon baby back ribs, corn on the cob, sliced sweet potatoes drizzled with maple syrup, slaw, and cornbread awaited us.
Maestro pulled out a chair and seated Granny Fanny with more gallantry than I had ever seen, even from him. Of course that prompted the vicar to seat Mattie. With more grace and apparent practice than I would have expected, Andy did the same for me. I was rather taken aback at the gentlemanly side of my old friend. Maybe he was learning more than the movie business out in Hollywood.
We had barely begun to eat the delicious meal when a pop-fizz sound made me look up in concern. I exchanged a look with Maestro, who seemed very apprehensive. Just as I started to think nothing would happen, a mountain of white daisies cascaded down onto us, the table, and the food. We were practically buried in blossoms.
No one spoke. The vicar cast a fearful gaze around the room. He clasped his hands in 
prayer, but I didn’t think he was saying grace. Andy looked annoyed as he picked daisies from his ribs. Then he shrugged and put a big bite into his mouth and complimented Maestro, in between the yum-yum sounds he mumbled. Mattie laughed at Andy, and then threw a handful of daisies into the air with a girlish giggle.
I looked across the table at Maestro Martino. He grinned jovially but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. His smile quickly faded and his expression became contemplative and serious. I asked him what was on his mind.
“Daisy has become suddenly powerful,” Maestro said in a tone that suggested he was sorting his thoughts as he spoke. “I think here, with the flowers, she meant to celebrate seeing her old friend again, and naturalmente she used the daisies to let us be certain it was her, no? Her physical appearance at the stained glass window, it also indicates she has become powerful,” he said in a worried tone.
“But that’s good isn’t it?” I asked. “Maybe now she’ll be able to help us find out what happened to her — and what or who is responsible for her death.”
“È possibile,” Maestro answered doubtfully. “But power, especially new power does not fill in the knowledge she was missing. You see? Daisy has power that is new to her. She doesn’t know how to use it well, as you can see,” he said motioning to the flower covered dinner table. “What if she becomes frustrated or confused in her quest for the truth? What if she, with her new power, becomes angry?” Maestro asked in a dire tone that gave me goose bumps.
Daisy had been affable and kind in my encounters with her. But what if she got upset with the search for her killer. Or what if she suspected the wrong person and acted on a false assumption. After all, moments ago Andy thought the vicar might be involved. What if Daisy became a powerful, vengeful spirit?
***
Video: Watermelon Lemonade | Volunteer Gardener
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8h9jzr_Q6l0
Copyright © 2014 by Teagan Ríordáin Geneviene
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.
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Teagan's Books 
LOL, i’m happy to get your comments, regardless of what episode.
Love the truck reading. “Three Ingredients, read in trucks across America.” 😀
Looking forward to hearing your latest adventure. Hugs!
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Dear God! I commented on this one last time but read the previous one. Sitting in my truck doing this. Love the what if.
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OMG — limited wifi!!!? Say it ain’t so! Your visit means even more Shelley. I appreciate you dropping by. Thanks for the tip about wine and Utah. 😀 Keep doing retirement right.
Hugs!
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OMG I am so ADD or Menopausal or have had too much red wine ( quite an accomplishment in Utah to even find a bottle, trust me on that), I’ve actually written down the last Ingredient number and added this one to my bar. Viewing bar that is! 🙂 Hate that I’m on limited wifi. Will be back to read this sucker!
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Exciting to read you and the three ingredients again, Teagan. Plus these ingredients must have been a real challenge. The combo is pretty unusual but you churned a real good post with them. See you soon.
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Hi Evelyne. So nice to see you again.
Well… where I grew up, those foods would go together for a summertime meal, particularly a cookout. But it is harder to spread them out into a stogy when they could all be used in one sentence. I used to stress “random” things. But I’ve often seen that the random part is hard for people to give.
But the interactive component is the most important aspect of these serials. I want the readers to participate — to be in the driver’s seat, letting the ingredients drive the story.
I hope you are enjoying some “you time” now and not missing the kids having become lovely grownups (thanks to you). Huge hugs! 🙂
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I was away from reading other bloggers because of family matters and the last prep work for my novel. I missed reading you and finally caught up last night now that my book cover is done! See you soon.
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Can’t wait to see the cover. 😀
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Ha! Thanks for commenting Inese. Maybe Mattie needs a little help remembering. Else, Maestro might show a darker side getting someone to confess. Only the “ingredients” know for sure. Huge hugs!
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Shooting watermelon seeds squeezing them between two fingers was very popular in the village I grew up back in the 60s 🙂
I think Mattie does know something…
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LOL, thanks so much Debra. There are plenty of “southern-isms” but i don’t believe that’s one of them. I’m glad to know you liked it, because i had my doubts! The watermelon was a challenge for me. That’s part of the pantser fun though — sometimes the most simple thing will nearly stump me. 😀
Thanks for taking a moment to comment. I hope everyone takes a minute to read your “chicken” post. Adorable.
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This serialization so much fun to read, Teagan! You have a wonderfully creative imagination to spin this world into existence. And I loved this sentence in particular, as it made me stop and think, “Okay, how’d she do that? How’d she come up with that sentence?”: “Why, they were so close you could spit a watermelon seed further than the space between them!” If that’s a general saying, I’ve certainly never heard it. Anyway, it’s so perfect! Pitch perfect! Enjoy the day! 🙂
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Hey CB. I really appreciate the feedback — thanks. And thanks for commenting. Re the watermelon, great minds think alike! Now for another week living on the respective hellmouths! — i’m still chuckling about your post. Hugs!
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Hi Teagan, Loved this episode – left me thinking about what happens next 😀 Funnily I got a watermelon this weekend 🙂 I’d happily read a re-run. Have a great week, CB.
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Happy Sunday all! I hope you’ll take a moment to leave feedback on the topic of a re-run.
Many of the current readers were not here for the original serial “Three Things.” It’s a 1920’s mystery (but the culinary and ghostly elements came later with the other incarnations).
I’m considering rerunning the original (and maybe trying to add something for interest, though i don’t know what yet) to give myself time for novel writing. What do you think of this particular rerun?
Hugs,
teagan
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Hi Olga. I truly appreciate you taking time to comment. I seem to be an imp today with the Northman. 😉 Yes, that watermelon lemonade — or even some Jack Daniels lemonade might be just the antidote.
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Thanks for the feedback on a novel of these characters. Hugs to you and yours!
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Hi Teagan: Very intriguing indeed. I don’t eat meat so the ribs weren’t a problem but then somebody (I think you) had to mention Eric Northam…Maybe I’ll need some of that lemonade after all. And I so hope you go ahead with writing a novel based on the serial…:)
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I love everything about this story. The names, language and voice all sound old fashioned. I love the crispness of the telling and the unexpected turns of events. ❤
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Tess, i am absolutely humbled. Thank you so much.
I have fun being an “old fashioned girl” when i write these episodes — and letting my southern-isms out to play. It’s not that i mean to hide my accent from my work-a-day world, it just comes and goes as it pleases.
I’m delighted that you took a moment to comment.
Your blog still leaves me eager for the next post. Hugs!
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The story suited the old-fashioned tone. Love every word.
We all know each story has a tone of its own as this one does as well. ❤ A most satisfying read.
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😀
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Hi Trisha. Thanks for taking a moment to comment. They’re saying now that the seeds are nutritious… but where I grew up, they’re well known for giving a bellyache. Hugs!
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now that you say it, i think i have seen people washing and drying them for eating. I have eaten the seeds of pumpkin- they are quite tasty 🙂
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Yum! 😀
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you like them too 🙂
there is another fruit in India that looks like a smaller watermelon of pale colour, the pulp is creamish and sweet but not as sweet as watermelon and the good thing is you can cut off the entire seed section 🙂 we call it kharbuj, its seeds are delicious, they are washed, dried and used in mouth freshners or people like me just eat them!
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Amazing. India is home to so many marvelous foods! Hugs!
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i love watermelons even though those countless seeds try to ruin its sweetness 🙂
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Suzanne, thank you so much for making me smile. I never know what’s going to happen — and sometimes when there is something that i want to work into the story, the “ingredients” just don’t work out that way. However, you and David have me thinking about Daisy’s power boost. That really does deserve more attention, huh?
Each Fiesta Friday at your blog is more delicious than the last, but i confess — i’m still drooling over that tomato soup from the other day.
I hope all is well in your world. Huge hugs!
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Oh yes I think Daisy’s power boost deserves some extra special attention. Reminds me of Sookie Stackhouse and her powers she discovered in True Blood she wasn’t a ghost but nonetheless powerful. Daisy would be a spirit to be reckoned with.
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Wow! I am 110% flattered by that comparison, Suzanne. And i’m just fine with the fact that now Eric Northman is prowling through my mind. Tee-hee! Hugs! 😀
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LOL, Yes to that. Eric can prowl through my mind any old time. The welcome mat is out.
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😀
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Every week I feel like I get whip lash from all the twists and turns, you really know how to keep your audience engrossed and entertained. So well done, loving this story so much. Intrigued by the turn of events with Mattie and a little scared about Daisies new found power. Next week can’t come soon enough.
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Thank you so much for that feedback! I always wonder if i’m reaching what i’d like to do. The nature of this story is “fly by the seat of my pants” as i write, and that tends to leave me with a degree of uncertainty. Huge hugs! 🙂
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I really liked this segment Teagan – the way you are really building the tension for “Who?”, “What?” and “How?”!!
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Ouch… 🙂 i’m sorry. It seems the bourbon ribs are popular tonight. Although i confess i’ve never cared much for ribs. Cornbread, now that’s another story all together. As i sit with cold cereal for dinner, it would be much better with cornbread and buttermilk! Now i’ve just revealed just how much of a “southerner” i really am. LOL.
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David, i predict this serial will not go as many episodes as the other two. I might even have more “ingredients in the cupboards” than there are episodes left.
Then… I’m tossing around the idea of rerunning the first serial, so i can work on a novel.
Since i can’t seem to get rid of that “work related, 20 hours a week activity” that would send me to a small town cottage or an adobe in the desert… I need some strategy to give me novel writing time.
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Wishing you tons of views with your new Buthidars blog: http://lorddavidprosser1.wordpress.com/2014/09/25/you-can-make-a-difference-one-person-situation-at-a-time/
Mega-hugs!
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Sigh, my Saturday night treat over for another week and I’m still as puzzled as ever.I’m sure you won’t make Daisy into an angry or malevolent spirit but it would be handy to know where the sudden power has come from. Will I be able to work out whodunit by Christmas or will we be heading for a whole new story by then?
xxx Massive Hugs to you Teagan xxx a small smack on the wrist for making me salivate with the food.
Goodnight adorable one.
David
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Thank you Mary, that means a lot to me.
As for the recipes, i’d never heard of watermelon lemonade until today… but a glass sure would be good right now. Huge hugs!
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An unexpected way of using your “watermelon” today. The seeds, not the recipe. I now want to make the watermelon lemonade. The lemon juice already has me puckering. Love the mystery going on in your serial, Teagan.
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I am honored that you used my suggested ingredients – and thank you for the mention! Loved the way you used the watermelon. 🙂 The story has really heated up. Strange that Mattie knew she was being paid to disappear, yet had no clue why. Something smells wrong in the state of Georgia! (But definitely not the food!)
After that read, I must cook my dinner, as my stomach is growling! Cheers!
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You are ever so welcome Kraftycat! I’m delighted that you participated in the serial.
Maybe Mattie *suspects* things but doesn’t know for sure… things Daisy either didn’t or couldn’t tell her. And “King” Henry might not have been the only one protective of his son… Mattie might have thought discretion was the better part of valor.
Yes, i had fun with the watermelon — thanks for sending it as an ingredient! Hugs!
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Reblogged this on Smorgasbord – Variety is the spice of life and commented:
Timing is everything, I was just about to close down my computer when I espied Teagan’s latest episode of Three Ingredients appear on FB – a perfect way to end the day with baby back ribs – suddenly my cup of cocoa feels a bit inadequate. Thanks Teagan great read and already looking forward to the next one….goodnight.
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Thank you for reblogging the serial, Sally. I hope it didn’t give you the midnight munchies!
And i hope everyone will check out your blog for all the wonderful posts there.
Hugs and sweet dreams!
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I was true to myself….but cannot promise that for today. Have a peaceful Sunday and hope the next week is a good one. XX
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