The Devil with Dinner (Book 1)
A Dark Shadows Novel
by Carey Kasdot
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CAST LIST (for those who know Dark Shadows)
ELIZABETH COLLINS STODDARD is Joan Bennett
ROGER COLLINS is Louis Edmonds
BARNABAS COLLINS is Jonathan Frid
JULIA HOFFMAN is Grayson Hall
SARAH JOHNSON is Clarice Blackburn
CAROLYN STODDARD is Nancy Barrett
JOE HASKELL is Joel Crother
* DR. VERONIKA LISKA is Virginia Vestoff
GARVEY CRAIG is Frank Schofield
QUENTIN COLLINS is David Selby
* HALLWAY SPIRIT/PATIENCE is Kate Jackson
ANGELIQUE BOUCHARD is Lara Parker
CHRIS JENNINGS is Don Briscoe
WILLIE LOOMIS is John Karlen
HARRY JOHNSON is Craig Slocum
NADIA SCHOFIELD/VICKY WINTERS is Alexandra Moltke
* DEREK SCHOFIELD is Michael Stroka
* DR. PANNA LISKA is Marie Wallace
* CONNIE LISKA is Donna Wandrey
* TISH LEMON is Terrayne Crawford
* CARY OLIVO is Anthony George
* CHILD OF JOHN is James Storm
* TARIKEL is Kathryn Leigh Scott
RICHARD GARNER is Hugh Franklin
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* my creations
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Greater love hath no man than this; that a man lay down his life for his friends.
John 15:13
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PART 1: A Strip of Skin
Chapter 1
April 6, 1971
If there was one thing that everybody in Collinwood could agree on, it was that Mrs. Johnson's cooking was disgusting.
Sarah Johnson had adhered herself to Collinwood in the wake of personal loss. Her husband had died, then one of her sons; she was estranged from her daughter. Mr. Malloy had been murdered. (Yes, murdered; bludgeoned and drowned, not the victim of food poisoning as some of her neighbors had hastened to suggest; it was all there in the police record.) She had been in love with him without knowing it, though to others it was plainly read in her face. With Mr. Malloy gone, and nothing but a jailbird son occasionally needling her for money, Sarah had begun to drift. Then had come the opportunity to work for Elizabeth Stoddard in the mansion on the hill.
And just in time, too. Poor little rich family! She made a difference among them; she neatened their rooms and fed them. Where would they be without her to feed them? Her cooking had breathed new life into the house.
And though that breath was foul, breath is still breath.
Mrs. Stoddard had just sent Mrs. Johnson to an intensive two-week cooking seminar in Boston and, inwardly huffing, she'd gone. Stiffly attending every day, she had cooked and braised, basted and sauteed, sizzled and chiffonaded and attempted to produce fluffy souffles and savory quiches under expert direction. Her resistance to the teachings receded as her mind opened. Such intriguing methods, techniques and secrets went into the preparation of food! Why, cooking was nearly an art! (So that was how one used garlic!) She was introduced to more spices than might have wafted through the Tales of the Arabian Nights (a book she'd never read). In a flash of adventurism, she thought maybe she would begin to use spices in the Collinwood kitchen. Only a couple, mind. (Sarah believed that some spices came from the devil.)
The course completed, Roger Collins himself had picked her up at the bus station. On the drive home he told her a handyman had been installed in the house while she was gone. Renovations to the kitchen were being planned. She seethed. What handyman? She had been the first and only servant to have been taken into the family in nearly twenty years. Pressing her lips together as the sedan approached the house, she decided she would have this handyman figured out and put in place before she was an hour older.
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He was loath to reintroduce Mrs. Johnson into the house, but his perverse sister wouldn't fire her. Roger ate downtown with regularity and daydreamed, with heavy emotion, of New York and Boston restaurants where every meal was not boiled or otherwise ruined. One day, he'd warned Liz, some sulfurous dinner would lay one of them out on the coroner's slab. The only dish of Sarah Johnson's that he would willingly eat was her Indian pudding.
And strangely enough, it was that dish, this very day, that did him in.
"Home again!" he cried as they shuffled through the entry into the foyer. He dragged her weighty suitcase. What in the name of insanity had she brought with her from Boston?
"I'll just tote this upstairs," he told her with false heartiness.
She was still touching her handkerchief to her nose. Her eyes were red. "Two week cooking course," she breathed, upset. She shook her head. "Two whole weeks! If this family thinks I don't know how to boil a dinner after all these years, well, you might just come out and say so." She blew her nose fiercely as an exclamation point.
"There was never any question of our doubting that you could boil our dinner," Roger responded, his patience already unraveling. "Liz meant it as a treat for you. If we're going to update the kitchen, you'll have to take a break from cooking, so Liz thought of this as a vacation." He dumped the bag on the floor and slammed the door against the chilly April afternoon.
Mrs. Johnson was already hurrying towards the kitchen.
He sighed. It was good to be home again, to feel the warmth of home penetrating his coat. He was looking forward to a few quiet hours behind his desk in the den. He pulled off his coat and then his hat, dropping them onto the center table. Get Mrs. Johnson's bag upstairs, look in on David, and then get to work. He braced his legs and hefted the suitcase in his arms. It was punishingly heavy, and he uttered a curse. With one foot, he felt for the first step of the staircase.
Startling him, Mrs. Johnson was there at his side. "Oh Mr. Collins, not that bag! That heavy one comes to me here in the kitchen!"
"Why on earth?"
"Because it's full of Indian Pudding." She flapped her hands in frustration. "I made it the way you like."
He rolled his eyes to her in surprise, began "you put pudding—" and overbalanced. He was on the second stair from the bottom when it happened, and his ill-fated half-turn caused him to lose his concentration and fall backward, his arms flailing upwards automatically, striking for purchase. The heavy suitcase shot upwards.
"I made my Indian Pu—Mr. Collins!"
He crashed into the hard stone of the foyer floor, landing on the very center of his upper back. The heavy suitcase tumbled after him and slammed into his chest. He groaned.
She shrieked, "No! Oh, help! Mrs. Stoddard! Doctor Hoffman!" She whirled and loped toward the kitchen at a slow run.
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Chapter 2
That spring many things happened, and one of them was that Joe Haskell came home to Collinsport.
Barnabas and Julia entered the Blue Whale tavern for a drink, and before he could close the door behind them Julia seized his elbow and gasped, "I can't believe it. Joe Haskell is here."
He turned in surprise. There, alone at a table and lost in thought, was a lone figure in a heavy white fisherman's sweater. His curly dark head was unmoving, his eyes dreamy. He cupped a mug of beer. It was indeed Joe.
"Come," Barnabas murmured to Julia. They picked their way past other patrons and made their way to Joe's table.
He didn't react when they stopped at his table, so in a soft, warm voice, Barnabas said, "Why, Joe! How good it is to see you."
Now Joe glanced up, lowered the beer he'd been about to sip, and smiled at them. Julia's heart caught in her chest. It had been two years since Joe had left Collinsport. Those pure, clear blue eyes; their glance spoke now of composure and sense. The last time she had seen him, he had been kicking in terror. She blinked to erase the image.
Joe rose from his table, his voice hesitant with emotion.
"Barnabas. Hello, Dr. Hoffman. I'd hoped to see some friends. Please come sit with me."
Spotting fresh customers, a server came to their table. Julia ordered her drink offhandedly. Barnabas was specific in requesting his favorite sherry. The server drew away.
Julia couldn't help saying, "How have you been? It is so good to see you, and such a surprise!"
With a restrained smile, Joe said, "Yes. …Well, I … as you probably know, Dr. Hoffman, after I left the sanitarium, I spent time with my cousins in Rockport."
Barnabas marveled, "Joe, you look entirely well! How are you?"
"I am well, Barnabas. I'm well, and I mean that. I've been 'stable', as Dr. Hoffman would put it, for a good long time. Both oars in the water."
"You look wonderful," Julia assured him. "I wish you had let us know you were coming home!"
"That's all right," Joe replied in a low tone. "I mean—I mean, I'm sorry that I didn't try to make contact earlier but—maybe the timing just wasn't right."
"We understand," smiled Julia, touching his hand.
Joe was quiet a moment as the activity in the pub pulsed around them. Scattered laughter and friendly guffaws, the banging of mugs on tabletops, someone spilling a handful of change on the floor and cursing.
He studied Julia and Barnabas, who looked vivid and alive, with a sprinkling of raindrops in their hair.
He gathered himself and then asked, "And how is everyone at Collinwood? Doctor, are you still living there?"
The server brought their drinks, and Julia was quiet until he departed. Then she replied with a crooked smile, "Yes. Everyone is well. Roger had a slight accident recently and injured his back. But he is recuperating."
"Oh."
"Joe," Barnabas interjected, "Carolyn Stoddard would be delighted to know that you are back in town. Have you seen her yet?"
Joe stretched back from the table a little and let out a breath. "No. You're the first ones I've seen so far. I have been hoping to run into Carolyn."
"Are you home to stay? I can hardly believe you're back," Barnabas said, trying to shake off amazement.
"Well, I am," Joe grinned. He nervously sketched a pattern on the tablecloth with his fingernails, and then said into the silence, "I'm looking for Chris Jennings."
Julia smothered a gasp.
He looked up at her quickly. "Is he dead? My aunts have been trying to contact him but nobody's had any luck. It's just me, Chris and Amy left on the Haskell-Jennings side of the family, and that's it. Tom's dead. You haven't answer me."
"As far as we know, Chris Jennings is not dead," Barnabas strongly assured him, "but we haven't seen him in ages."
Beneath the table, Julia touched Barnabas' hand.
Joe said calmly, "All right. I'm glad he's not dead. No matter what anybody says about what happened, and I know what I saw, so don't talk to me about it, I'm not going to discuss it—I've got to see him again. I just want to find him again. And I'd like to see people. This is my town; I don't want to have to think of Collinsport by remembering that I was carried out of here on some hospital attendant's shoulder, bellowing about monsters and—things."
He took up his beer stein. "And I'm really glad I ran into the two of you," he confessed with a cautious laugh. "I suppose I wasn't really ready to meet anyone until now."
"Come to Collinwood," Barnabas urged. "See Carolyn. She'll be overjoyed."
Julia put a hand on Joe's arm and smiled at him.
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