Have Yourself a Beary Little Murder

by Meg Macy

  Wendy Clark nodded. “I heard her saying exactly that. And how she wasn’t given a second chance. Everyone at the Quick Mix Factory thinks she’s nuts, though. And I’ve heard horror stories of what she used to pull while she sewed teddy bears.”

  “Like what?” When Wendy clapped a hand over her mouth, I laughed. “Come on, spill. Who told you all that, and what kind of stuff did Lois do?”

  “Joan Kendall and I meet for dinner at the pub once in a while. Boy, does she have great stories. Like Lois messing up a sewing machine so she could go home early—”

  “On purpose?” I winced, recalling how often that had happened. Not only did it cost us a bundle in repairs, we even had to buy several new machines.

  “Yeah, and she often skipped a few steps in sewing bears. Joan had to trash one teddy bear completely. Half the seams hadn’t been sewn properly, and it looked lumpy.”

  “Why didn’t she tell my brother-in-law, the supervisor?” Mom demanded. “Ross would have put a stop to that, for certain.”

  “She threatened Joan to keep quiet,” Wendy said. “Lois even cowed Flora Zimmerman, and she doesn’t scare easy. Harriet Amato couldn’t take Lois’s threats, so she quit.”

  That surprised me. “I always wondered if she had another reason besides Will Taylor’s murder. Especially since we walled off the stuffing machine. It satisfied everyone else.”

  “She wanted to retire anyway. Plus Harriet’s daughter had trouble finding babysitters whenever school closed, or her kids were sick.”

  “I can’t believe Lois bullied so many people at the factory.”

  “Sasha, you always think the best of people.” Mary Kate smiled. “That’s why you’re so shocked when you find out their secrets. I’m wondering if Lois will do something drastic if her cookie isn’t chosen for the contest. Like sabotaging the winner.”

  Mom rubbed her arms as if a sudden chill hit her. “Eve told me she served time in some prison. Is that true?”

  “Yes, for assault. She never mentioned her conviction on her employment application, either. Since that’s required according to our policy handbook, we had no choice but to fire her. Lois must have figured we’d never find out.”

  I watched Wendy box up a customer’s order and then tie it with a red-and-green-striped ribbon while we chatted. A line had formed, and Mary Kate deftly wrote up receipts and cashed them out. I tapped a finger against my chin.

  “I was hoping to see your contest cookie,” I said, hinting broadly.

  Mary Kate giggled. “You’re out of luck, Sasha. Our entry is safe with Isabel French. Now get back to your booth. Maddie’s swamped.”

  Wendy pulled me aside and whispered low. “You can tell our Sugar Plum Teddies by my style of decoration. Lace collars and cuffs on a blue suit.”

  “Like Little Lord Fauntleroy? How cute! I can’t to wait to see them.” I hurried back to help my sister, while Mom headed toward the kitchen. “Guess she’s checking on Dad. I bet she won’t volunteer to take over for Leah, who really ought to go home and take care of Dave if he’s so sick. Maybe I ought to help Dad—”

  “Oh no, you don’t,” Maddie said. “Make sure these wizard bear order forms are filled out in full. We need email addresses, shipping addresses, and see if any orders were duplicated by mistake. I was in such a rush. Hope I didn’t mess up any of them.”

  Once I finished that task, I bagged up a customer’s bear in tissue and set it within our logo bag along with a pink ballerina outfit and a tiny teddy bear nutcracker. “Your granddaughter will love these,” I said to the older woman.

  “We’re taking her to see The Nutcracker ballet, so this is perfect.”

  I handled four other orders before Aunt Eve insisted she would cover the booth so that Maddie and I could take a twenty-minute break. This whole week felt like I’d been running a 10K marathon. My sister walked slow, shoulders slumped, when we headed to fetch more coffee and a sandwich. Usually she had so much energy.

  “I’m surprised Leah Richardson hasn’t gone home. Wendy said the whole clan is at the hospital. Her father-in-law isn’t expected to survive.”

  “That’s a shame, really.”

  My phone chirped, signaling a message. I read Jay’s text with delight and set a time to call that night. He’d finally gotten through a tough week, planned to work on a commission for a few hours, and then relax while talking to me. Four new inches of snow had fallen up north on top of a base of about half a foot. Local roads were rutted and icy, too. I hoped salt trucks and plows had gone out to clear the streets in Silver Hollow.

  Maddie smiled knowingly. “If you left now, you could make it in four or five hours, give or take. Even though you don’t like winter driving.”

  “Yeah, but I’d have to be back tomorrow afternoon.” I sighed. “Plus it’s gonna snow more tonight. We’ll just talk on the phone.”

  I wished I could drive up north for a visit with Jay, but knew I’d never make it. A gallon of coffee wouldn’t get me safely there. We returned to the booth, where I helped one customer choose a bear for a friend’s child. Despite being tempted to see Jay and his most recent work, I couldn’t leave early. Dad had taught us to stick with a commitment, even if it meant missing out on something else. I missed Jay’s smile, though, his easygoing nature and infectious laugh.

  “Guess we’re both stuck at home tonight,” my sister said. “I wanted to finish that project for the microbrewery, but I’m too beat.”

  “What’s this plan about hiring a pastry chef to judge the cookie contest?”

  “I had a feeling we ought to, since everyone knows everyone around here. We don’t want to alienate people or hear complaints of cheating. There he is, too.”

  “Who? The chef?”

  Maddie pointed out a hefty guy with a beard, in ratty jeans, a leather jacket, and a flat cap, who strolled through the hall. Two women followed behind him, chatting together, looking fashionable in wool coats and scarves, and carrying trendy tote bags—one a Kate Spade, the other a Coach. Unless they were knockoffs. Maddie nudged me again when the threesome stopped at the jewelry booth.

  “Christophe Benoit of Flambé told me about this guy, who’s French. Georges Martin is his name, and he teaches an advanced pastry class at a culinary school in Ann Arbor. He’s always judging contests. Even international ones.”

  “Who are the women with him?”

  “I think they’re his best students, from what he told me on the phone. I asked Mom to cover for me here while the judging takes place, but maybe she forgot.”

  “Go on, you can watch them. I’ll be fine. Things are winding down anyway.”

  Maddie hugged me. “Thanks, Sash! I’m dying to see which five they choose.”

  “Give me the full rundown when you get back, then.”

  She rushed off. Luckily I wasn’t swamped with customers buying bears or accessories, and only took a few orders for the wizard bear. Sherry Martinez ambled by at four, in a white wig, round glasses, and a calico dress; the white cap she wore on her head as Mrs. Claus matched her apron. She looked glum. Her husband, who owned the La Mesa Mexican restaurant on Main Street, was the polar opposite. Always smiling, super friendly, and generous to the community when he sent food to the local cops and firefighters. He often volunteered at fundraisers, too.

  So did Sherry, but she never looked like she enjoyed it.

  “A few vendors have already started closing down.” She frowned in disapproval and patted her wig. “They’re supposed to stay until five o’clock. I suppose they’re worried about driving home, since we’ve gotten at least three inches of snow this afternoon. The roads are getting worse by the hour.”

  “Wow. Hope no one gets in an accident out there.”

  “It wasn’t too bad between ten and two o’clock, but then it started snowing harder. Make sure to clean up your area before you go. Trash thrown away, chairs folded. The take-down crew will put them away along with the tables.”

  Sherry moved on. Her news decided the quest
ion about me driving anywhere but home. Disappointed, I straightened what was left of our products and counted the minutes until the Bear-zaar closed at last. Then I began to pack what was left of our inventory. Maddie danced her way toward the booth, ecstatic.

  “You should see the five cookies the judges chose! They’re wonderful.”

  “Is Mary Kate in the running?”

  “What did hers look like?”

  “Shortbread teddy bear, blue outfit, with a lace collar, and cuffs. Wendy decorated it.”

  “Oh, yeah, all the judges raved about the icing skills. I didn’t think Lois’s Sugar Plum Teddy Bear looked that great, but the students thought the tiny sugar plum noses were adorable. And Chef Martin said it had good flavor.” Maddie whooped over the huge stack of order forms for the wizard bear. “Wow! Look at all these. I hope we can make it before the deadline. That only doubles the pressure to deliver on time for Christmas.”

  “We’ll make it,” I said. “I’ve got four new people trained to sort pattern pieces and sew. That will help with production. And two of Tim Richardson’s friends will help with shipping orders every day after school. Don’t worry.

  “So what are the other three cookies? I’m dying to know who’s up against Lois and Mary Kate in the bake-off contest.”

  “A Cranberry Walnut Snowball, a Ginger Caramel Buttercream Macaron, and Date Nut Jingle Bells,” Maddie said. “A miniature gingerbread house almost got in the final round, but when one of the judges picked it up to examine, the roof cracked apart. The little house perched on the edge of a mug, with a tiny teddy bear in the window. Too bad. I really loved it.”

  “So, Mary Kate’s Sugar Plum Teddies—”

  “She renamed it the Little Lord Fauntleroy Bear,” Maddie said. “Wendy said you came up with that idea, so now Lois can’t complain about the name competing with her Sugar Plum Teddy Bear. I don’t know who entered the other cookies, but they’re all delicious.”

  We stacked boxes on a cart and then rolled it to the stairs. Uncle Ross and several factory staff members helped us to carry everything to the company truck. Dusk had deepened into night when our staff headed home. Mom had ordered pizza from Amato’s, so we sat or stood around the kitchen island to eat.

  “Tom Richardson passed away at the hospital this afternoon,” Dad announced. “Despite his fever, Dave dragged himself to his father’s bedside in time.”

  “The entire clan’s headed to the funeral home, from what Tim told me.” Uncle Ross bit into another slice of pizza. “My guess is the family will choose Tuesday or Wednesday of next week for services. Don’t know if that will clash with Cal Bloom’s, though.”

  “I don’t think so,” Mom said, “although Dave and Leah have their hands full helping Alison and Kristen plan the details.”

  My uncle wiped his mouth. “That detective hasn’t been around much. The hefty guy, Mason. Instead there’s some dude in a fancy suit asking questions around the village. Even came to the factory today, nosing around.”

  “Detective Hunter is assigned to the case. He came around when the judges were tasting the cookie contest entries.” Maddie blew out a breath, clearly annoyed. “He kept bugging me when I couldn’t give him my full attention. I didn’t like his attitude.”

  The clock struck seven, so I sneaked upstairs. I’d taken Rosie outside when we first returned and now she padded after me. Poor thing, she’d been alone most of the day—and must be desperate for attention. Until I noticed shredded tissue on the carpet. She crept into a corner of the bedroom, half-hidden behind the tufted armchair.

  “Oh, no, Rosie. What did you get into?”

  I stared at the strips of paper on the bathroom’s tile floor and the empty cardboard tube. “I knew I should have taken you to doggie day care last night instead of leaving you alone with Nyx. You found another way to amuse yourself.”

  Once I cleaned the mess, I changed into flannel pajama bottoms and an old sweatshirt, brushed out my hair, and braided it. Then I curled up on the window seat with a book and an afghan. Rosie jumped onto my lap after a half hour, so we watched the light snowfall together. She rolled over so I could rub her belly. Jay was scheduled to call at eight o’clock, but the long minutes ticked by. I left a message on his cell at eight thirty.

  That wasn’t like Jay to promise and then forget. I’d hoped to catch him up on everything that had happened, in depth, since the mayor’s murder. He had a logical bent. Too often, I relied on my gut instinct, which was sometimes just plain wrong.

  Rats.

  My mood worsened with each passing minute. The soft lamplight didn’t soothe me, and I wasn’t in the mood to turn on the TV or plow into the stack of magazines piled on the end table. Not even Tea Time, one of my favorites, with its eye candy of teacups and lovely treats. Not that I’d ever have the time to bake. Sometimes I gave Mary Kate an issue if she wanted to try out a new scone recipe among its pages.

  Even the Teddy Bear Times didn’t keep my interest, which showcased the most recent holiday-themed bears for collectors. Dad had gotten me into the habit long ago, checking out doll and teddy bear show announcements. Instead I fetched my iPad and checked the Child’s Play Toy Box Co.’s website. At last they had posted an explanation of the Teddy Bear Keepsake contest. That meant the Silver Bear Shop’s feature would appear in the next print issue, since I’d sent in a photo and answered interview questions.

  Setting my iPad aside, I plucked up the PS4 video controller. Jay had introduced me to Overwatch, which proved addictive. I’d been too busy to devote time in learning the characters and their skill kits, or exploring the maps, and preferred casual play rather than competitive. Jay had no time to play at all. His sister, Lauren, had hooked him into the game first. She’d broken up with her boyfriend and dedicated a lot of time to playing.

  I felt bad for her and sympathized with her coping mechanism, but hoped she wouldn’t get too sidetracked. Younger than Jay by nearly ten years, she had a sweet vulnerability. With her upcoming EMT exams, however, Lauren couldn’t afford to fail.

  I flopped across the bed. Rosie abandoned the window seat and curled up on the warm heater duct near the floor.

  “I bet Jay got distracted by his project. His deadline’s Christmas, after all—” Startled by a knock on the bedroom door, I rolled onto my side. “Who is it?”

  “You decent?” Maddie poked her head inside. “Mom and Aunt Eve need your opinion about the wedding. Come on downstairs.”

  “An opinion on what?”

  I couldn’t help sounding grumpy. Rosie raced out the door, so I grabbed my phone in case Jay did call and followed them downstairs. My parents sat at the table, but Aunt Eve and Uncle Ross were getting into their coats.

  “—would be perfect. The food’s already taken care of, Eve, and I promise to keep it as casual as possible,” Mom was saying. “You didn’t want a classic wedding, so no champagne, no fancy dress. I’ll take care of everything.”

  “You think you’re going to wear us down, right?” Aunt Eve waved a gloved hand near her red-cheeked face. “Oh, these hot flashes! We’ll more talk tomorrow, okay?”

  Dad rose to his feet. “We’re leaving, too. Come on, Judith. Let’s go.”

  I shivered from a blast of cold air when Uncle Ross opened the door. My sister blocked any retreat, however. Dad brought Mom’s coat and then followed my aunt and uncle outside. Yipping wildly, Rosie darted past them all into the snowy yard.

  I nudged Maddie. “Everyone’s leaving. Why did you drag me down here?”

  “You’ll see.”

  When Jay walked through the door, my jaw dropped. Rosie jumped against his damp jeans and wagged her tail. She waited while he rubbed clumps of snow off her paws and belly. With his slicked-back wet hair, apple cheeks, and bright smile, he looked adorable.

  “No, it’s not a dream.” Maddie pinched my arm. “Have a great time catching up. See you in the morning at breakfast. A late one, I hope.”

  Jay pulled off his boots and padded toward me
for a big, thankful bear hug. The kitchen seemed empty with only the two of us and Rosie, who circled us and barked until I hushed her. After a few wonderful kisses, I leaned away from him.

  “What are you doing here?”

  He laughed. “Surprising you. Are you? Surprised, that is.”

  “Yes, but what about the snow? It’s still coming down.”

  “Yeah, your dad asked me about that, too. I’m lucky I didn’t end up in a ditch like a few smaller cars. A heavy truck sure helps in this weather.” Jay kissed me soundly again, sending a thrill down to my toes. “Took a few extra hours, since I had to drive slower.”

  “I thought you were working on your new commission. That was rotten of you to text me instead of calling!” I kissed him lightly. “But it is a wonderful surprise.”

  “I stopped at a Starbucks in Mount Pleasant to text you. It was so noisy, and I didn’t want you to overhear anything with a phone call.”

  “Driving must have been terrible. Have I got a lot to tell you.”

  I hugged Jay tight, overjoyed that he was here, tracing the stubble of his beard from his jaw to his ear, and noting how his light brown hair fell over his flannel shirt collar. He nuzzled my neck while I told him about the Bear-zaar. Breathing in his scent of musk and sweat, I had a hard time focusing. Rosie whined, so I let her outside one last time.

  The falling snow looked so peaceful against the dark sky, filling in the holes where people had tramped from the house down the drive to the parking lot. We laughed to watch Rosie frolic in the snow, racing in circles, her tracks resembling a rabbit, and stopping to sniff every so often. Once she returned, I toweled her dry and mopped the kitchen floor’s puddles.

  “So you must know more about Cal Bloom’s death, right? You never did explain the whole story about the parade.” Jay leaned over to rub Onyx, who purred against his hand and curled her lithe body around his ankles. “Tell me what happened.”

  “I think he was electrocuted. We found him near the Quick Mix Factory, nowhere near the floats and generators for the parade. He couldn’t have gotten a shock without a power source.” I draped the dog’s wet towel on the baker’s rack and locked the deadbolt. “So murder’s a strong possibility.”