"Guess what? Jake goofed it up anyway. He forgot to clean the dust from the bathroom floor after installing the new mirror."
Betsy's eyes grew wide. "Are you-? God, I'm sick of having to be the brains in this outfit."
"You may be the brains, but Bunny managed to outsmart you," Stella pointed out.
"Not really. She came here to warn me, same as you did. But I took care of her. Would have taken care of Jake too if you hadn't stuck your nose where it didn't belong."
A stocking-footed Jake Brunelle appeared in the doorway of the staircase. In his hands he cradled a hunting rifle. "Hey."
"Oh, Jake! Jake, thank god you're here," she cried in a burst of theatrics that rivaled that of any Academy Award winner. "These people, they've been holding me at knifepoint-"
"Save it. I heard it all. And I've had about all of you that I'm gonna take."
"Jake, please. You've got it all wrong. I love you!"
"Yeah, sure you do. That's why you were screwin' Weston all this time and why you were addin' rat poison to my venison stew, huh?"
Nick stepped forward. "Jake, don't do it. She's not worth it."
"You shut up! If you two hadn't been pokin' around in things that don't concern you, we wouldn't be here!"
With that, a shot rang out and both women screamed.
"Nick!"
"Jake! No!"
As Sheriff Mills and two uniformed officers climbed the staircase, Jake Brunelle dropped his rifle and grasped his bloody right arm in pain.
"Oh my god, Nick. I thought-" Stella rushed to her husband's side and threw her arms around his neck.
"I know. I thought I was a goner too."
As one officer handcuffed Betsy Brunelle, the other applied a tourniquet to Jake Brunelle's wounded arm.
"Sheriff Mills, I don't think I've ever been so happy to see the cops in my life," Nick joked.
Stella removed her arms from around Nick's neck and threw them around the sheriff's shoulders. "Thank you. Thank you for saving us."
His face a bright crimson, Mills cleared his throat and extricated himself from the young woman's embrace. "You're welcome. But next time, promise me you'll call 911 instead of using voice mail, you hear?"
As Betsy and Jake Brunelle were led downstairs, Jake shouted over his shoulder, "Goddamned flatlanders! Why don't you go home?"
Nick heaved a sigh of satisfaction and smiled. "Now that this is over, we will."
CHAPTER.
20.
NICK SCOOPED STELLA into his arms, carried her over the threshold of the Colton farmhouse, and deposited her in the living room to a round of applause.
"Congratulations," Mills told them.
"Years of happiness to both of you in your new home," Alma wished as she bestowed each of the Buckleys with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
"Thanks," Nick smiled.
"Yes, thanks to both of you," Stella rejoined. "And as a token of our appreciation, I have a little something for each of you."
"You already treated us for dinner tonight," Alma argued.
"Don't worry, these are small, and I feel like celebrating-especially after learning that Alice's sentence has been lightened."
"Yup," Mills confirmed. "So long as she testifies against Weston's partner in Jersey, the most she'll see is house arrest. Things'll be tight with only Tim's income, but at least they'll be together."
Stella presented Mills and Alma with three gift-wrapped parcels. "Alma, there's one in there for you-inspired by those coupons you gave us the first day we got here-and another you can share with Raymond. And Mills, that one in the blue paper is for you."
Mills opened his and smiled. "Never, Ever Question the Sheriff's Judgment," he read aloud and held the frame aloft. "I'm going to hang that up at work."
Alma opened the package for her and Raymond: "Johnson-Deville Hunting Camp: We Have the Deer, You Bring the Beer." When the laughter subsided, she opened the second, which read Bitch in Kitchen. "Ain't that the truth! Stella, sweetie, did you make these?"
"Yes, I designed them too. Why?"
"Because I love them. They're adorable and sassy-just like me. And so clever. You know, I never did get to ask, but what did you do back in New York?"
"It's classified," Mills and Nick said in unison.
"Oh," Alma said with a confused look on her face. "Well, if you're not too busy fighting crime, I'd love to sell these in the shop. My customers will flip over them."
"Sure," Stella shrugged. "Seeing as classified jobs are somewhat scarce at the moment, I'd love to."
"Wonderful. We can discuss it more at the shop next time you're in. But for now, I'm heading home."
"So soon?"
"Yep. Need an early start tomorrah. Jelly doughnuts don't make themselves." Alma looked at Mills. "Speaking of jelly doughnuts, would you care to escort a lady to her car, Sheriff?"
Mills looked up from his cross-stitch piece in astonishment. "I-I'd love to, Miss Deville."
Nick and Stella watched from the doorway of their new home as Alma and Mills, in their pickups, drove down the pothole-laden driveway. When they were nearly out of view, Stella closed the door with a sigh and said, "Thank goodness life is back to normal."
"Yup."
"The weather is cool again."
"Yup."
"We're in our new home."
"Yup."
"The Brunelles are behind bars."
"Yup."
"And we can finally relax."
"Yup."
Stella put her arms around his shoulders. "What's with the Vermont accent?"
"Oh, just trying to blend," Nick explained and slid his hand around Stella's waist. "Especially since we have to go back to the hunting camp tonight."
Stella's arms dropped to her sides. "The hunting camp? Why?"
"Because our new bed won't be here until tomorrow."
"So?"
He pointed to the air mattress that had been used by Allen Weston and Betsy Brunelle. "So, guess what we forgot to replace."
Stella looked at the spot indicated. "Eww."
"Yup."
"Well, let's go get the mattress," she sighed. "But this time, can we deflate it before we move it?"
Nick smiled and opened the front door. "Yup."
end.