Marry Christmas Murder

by Stephanie Blackmoore

  “Are you sure you can walk away from that accomplishment?” Garrett grew serious.

  Olivia took a deep breath. “If I’m being honest, I’m not enjoying it anymore. The thrill of the chase is gone. What I do enjoy, however, is working on my smaller cases. This will be a great career move.” She spoke in calm, steady tones. “For both of us.”

  Two of my favorite people beamed at each other. It was the start of a beautiful professional partnership that had blossomed right here in my library.

  Garrett turned to me. “I just stopped in to say hello and gained a business partner. Not bad.” The three of us laughed.

  “I actually need to get back to Pittsburgh.” Olivia glanced ruefully at her pinging cell phone. “But it’ll be easier to work this month knowing it’s my last at the firm.”

  Olivia left with a happier heart. Garrett and I saw her off before stealing another kiss beneath the mistletoe in the front hall. What started off as a small embrace evolved into a five-alarm scorcher.

  “Do you know what this means?” Garrett peered into my eyes, his smoldering and serious. “We’ll get to spend a lot more time together.”

  I blinked up with a slow smile. “Now I just have to do my part and hire another assistant.”

  “Okay, you two. Move it somewhere else.” Rachel made her way down the stairs with a playful smile. “What brings you here, Garrett?”

  “I just gained a business partner.” He filled my sister in on Olivia joining his practice. He and Rachel exchanged high fives.

  “This is a wonderful holiday season.” I reflected on all of the changes happening, bringing those I loved closer to me. “Mom and Doug have moved back, Olivia will be in Port Quincy, and Garrett and I will have more time to see each other.”

  Things were back to normal. It would be a busy December but one filled with new beginnings and reconnecting with loved ones. My heart was filled with cheer.

  Then the flashback of Lacey collapsing at Paws and Poinsettias edged its way into the frontiers of my conscience. I shivered at the recollection and chased away the chill with another cup of hot cocoa.

  * * *

  That evening I shared the good news of Olivia and Garrett’s new business partnership with my stepfather. There was only one person missing from the celebration. My mother hadn’t returned from what must have been a marathon interview with March Homes for their inauspicious stager position.

  “What’s taking her so long?” Rachel testily shoved her fork into her lasagna. Her cutlery screeched across the plate. I had to admit the fuzzy feelings I’d felt were evaporating fast. If March Homes would monopolize my mother’s time so much just for an interview, what would it be like working for them?

  Doug echoed my concerns. “Your mother had planned on doing some staging after we relocated. I wasn’t imagining her starting a new full-time position.”

  “Did you and Mom discuss her plans?” I didn’t want to delve into the minutiae of my parents’ marriage, but Doug seemed downright downcast.

  “This opportunity came out of nowhere.” He set down his fork, his lasagna untouched. “I just want your mother to be prudent. I wasn’t there at Paws and Poinsettias. But just hearing how things went down, it doesn’t seem right.”

  “Mom needs to be careful.” We all resumed dinner in silence. I heard galloping paws overhead and broke into a smile. My cats were asserting their dominance and letting Ramona know they ruled the roost. The pug was happy to comply, spending her days basking in a patch of sun on the third floor. Soda had been successful in engaging the dog in a daily game of chase, though. But for the most part the pug had ceded control of our little animal kingdom at Thistle Park.

  “I got the job!” My mother sailed in the back door followed by a whoosh of chilly air. She took off her electric blue wool coat before she realized she’d been met with only wan praise. “What’s with all of you? You’re supposed to be happy for me!”

  I stood and served my mom a steaming helping of lasagna. She usually ate like a bird, but tonight she tucked into the food with gusto. She set down her fork and tried to allay our concerns. “Now I know you’re all a bit spooked by the demise of their other stager—”

  “At an event you took over from her!” Rachel interrupted.

  “Just be careful, honey.” Doug cast a doleful look at our mother.

  “Not you, too! I’d expect this from the girls, but I thought you’d be supportive.” My mother set down her water glass with a clatter. Doug rubbed her shoulders and murmured his support.

  It was weird being concerned for my mom rather than the other way around. She had been overprotective when we were kids; she was a true helicopter mom. Even when we’d been latchkey kids she’d managed to find out what we were doing each second of the day.

  “I’m happy you got the job, Mom,” I said evenly. “What I’m specifically worried about now is how it’ll look to Truman.”

  My mom had resumed her munching and waved a breadstick in dismissal of my concerns. “I have nothing to worry about. I’m completely innocent.”

  “We know that,” Rachel agreed. “But it looks like you bumped off Lacey to get her job.” She shrugged as our mother sputtered.

  “I’ll admit it was a little uncouth how Clementine basically had me audition for the position before they tried to nudge Lacey out.”

  Rachel’s cell sang out a cheery ditty, and she disappeared into the dining room to take the call. The rest of my family ate in silence again, pondering my mother’s new position. The optics looked horrible. There would be no way to hide from Truman that my mom had gotten Lacey’s job a mere twenty-four hours after she’d perished.

  And right after Mom made her a drink.

  “I did it! I have a date with a doctor!” Rachel returned to the table. She glowed with excitement and filled us in on her upcoming date with one of Toby’s groomsmen, the thoughtful man who’d attended to Lacey, a surgeon named Evan.

  I offered my sister an encouraging smile. “I’m glad something good came out of Paws and Poinsettias.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The next day my mother was as nervous as a kindergartner on the first day of school. Doug and Ramona looked on fondly as she donned a smart business suit and accessories, all in a purple palette. Ramona watched her leave from her third-floor window seat perch. Then she seemed to give a doggie shrug and curled up under a Christmas tree for a nap. Doug puttered off to read about Revolutionary War reenactments. He was looking for hobbies to resurrect now that my mother would be occupied with her new job.

  Rachel and I had studied the advent calendar in our small third-floor kitchen. It was another tradition my mother had instilled. I swallowed the lovely German chocolate like a bitter little pill. It was December 11.

  “We only have twelve days to make Olivia and Toby’s wedding happen.” Rachel popped her piece of chocolate into her mouth and gave a vicious crunch.

  “And we have yet to see the proposed venue.”

  But it was something I would remedy that afternoon. I received an email from a harried Olivia with the truncated guest list. Now that the happy couple had rapidly reduced the guest list to a more manageable fifty, I could breathe a sigh of relief. The wedding really wouldn’t be that hard to pull off. I did need to see the space Rachel and I would be working with. I left Rachel preparing for her date with the doctor and headed off to the Marches’ cabin two miles west of town. The sun was setting ahead of me. The sky was a deep cobalt in the rearview mirror and a vivid sherbet canvas up ahead. The wedding was scheduled for around this hour, and it would be neat to see what kind of light I’d be working with.

  The turn off to the March hunting property was marked with a large wreath tied to a fence, the bow jaunty and burnt orange, the color of the company logo. I was glad they’d placed the decoration; otherwise, I would have missed the turnoff. There was plenty of undeveloped land surrounding Port Quincy, most of it apparently owned by the March family and the Gibsons. I made a mental note to further j
azz up the entrance to the secluded parcel come wedding day. It didn’t look like anyone lived on the lot, which was crowded with evergreen and deciduous trees. I couldn’t make out a single structure as I plunged the Butterscotch Monster down an unlit gravel road.

  I felt like Hansel and Gretel on the way to the witch’s cabin under a black sky overhead, only snatches of which I could see though the towering foliage. “I should have brought some bread crumbs,” I joked aloud to myself. The trip into this forest was getting downright creepy. I wended my way further in, and a mile later I saw a glimmer ahead. It was a real light at the end of the tunnel of branches and trees.

  “Holy moly!” Before me rose a magnificent edifice crafted in warm wood. The rustic yet refined structure held turrets, multiple stone chimneys, and row upon row of gleaming windows. It was like the cabin on the maple syrup bottle, infused with a healthy dose of steroids.

  Olivia beamed from the front porch of the building. “You found it!”

  “I was getting a bit worried there, honestly.” I had no idea the place existed before today. “And this is a castle, not a cabin.”

  “Everyone has that reaction.” Olivia chuckled. “You feel like you’re plunging into the wooded abyss, and then you see the cabin.”

  “Is it new?” The structure was so pristine, the rough-hewn logs and boards giving off a distinct, fresh-cut lumber smell.

  “Nearly. Dad designed it and had it built in the spring. This is the site of Grandpa Rudy and Grandma Clementine’s original cabin. It was considerably smaller and had been on this site for thirty years. But Dad wanted a showpiece retreat to bring people to now that we’ll have a greater presence in Port Quincy. Come inside.” Olivia ushered me into a giant great room with a warm fire glowing in the two-story fireplace. I relaxed as the warmth enveloped me. The inside was as impressive as the outside, and I took in the space with interest.

  This design has Mom all over it.

  I beamed as I took in tropical holiday splendor, much like that of the redesigned Paws and Poinsettias theme. My mom had waved her fairy wand. Glittery wreaths of turquoise, magenta, and lime ornaments hung in each window. Melon-colored polka dot ribbons were twined through the evergreen garlands leading up the wide staircase. And the towering tree in front of the floor-to-ceiling window was adorned with pineapples, flamingoes, and little palm trees.

  “Your mother did this yesterday as her official audition to become a stager.” Olivia gestured around her. “My grandmother is ecstatic. Carole designed it with elements of the Florida they both love. There’s plenty of evergreen from the natural pine garlands, and the other silver elements she selected will fit in well for our wedding day.”

  I scanned the room once more. “You and Toby could be married in front of the fireplace or next to the giant tree.” My decorating work for Olivia’s wedding was basically finished. I’d ordered the angel candelabra centerpieces yesterday. While they wouldn’t fit in with the tropical flair of my mother’s decorations here, they wouldn’t clash, either. My work was done before it was begun. I let out a sigh of relief.

  Olivia beamed. “It’ll be perfect.”

  But is Goldie just as happy with it?

  Olivia’s mother entered the room and seemed to wordlessly answer my unspoken question. Her eyes darted around the room as her lips thinned in a pursed grimace. “Lacey had already decorated this space to my specifications.”

  I could nearly feel Olivia’s hackles rise next to me, the tension rolling off her petite shoulders in palpable waves. I wouldn’t want to be reminded of the deceased stager, either.

  “But your mother, Mallory, did a compelling redesign as her project to gain the new stager’s position.” While not exactly a ringing endorsement, Goldie grudgingly acknowledged my mother. “She’s here, you know.”

  “Mom’s here?” I followed Goldie into an impressive command center of a home office. The rest of Olivia’s family sat and stood at various stations. A few other employees buzzed around copiers, scanners, and a fax machine. My mother was looking over blueprints attached to an easel. Her purple reading glasses perched atop her head perfectly matched her pantsuit. A pencil resided behind her ear. She was all business.

  “Hi, Mom.” I didn’t want to interrupt her, but I was so proud. She’d retired with great fanfare five years ago when she sold her business in Pittsburgh, and she and my stepdad left for Florida. But I’d had a sneaking suspicion she’d regretted the move the moment after she’d left. She seemed fulfilled and excited in her new job.

  “Mallory, dear!” She set down her pencil and sketchbook and gave me a quick hug. “So nice to see you here.”

  “You did a lovely job as always decorating this cabin.”

  My mom accepted my praise with a smile. “I designed it with Clementine. It is meant to invoke the Gulf we both love.”

  Olivia appeared at my elbow. “My family is so happy to have you on board, Carole.”

  I relaxed. Truman had to know my mom didn’t have a hand in Lacey’s death. She was obviously thrilled to be working here, but the two didn’t have to be tied together.

  It was now five o’clock, and the office workers filtered out. My mother gathered her purple purse and sent me a friendly wave and a wink as she announced she was going to finish up some of her work for another hour at March headquarters downtown. I was glad she was gone when I heard Clementine’s next comment.

  “I’m sorry Paws and Poinsettias ended the way it did. Lacey was always looking for attention.” Clementine grumbled her complaint from across the room. I felt my mouth open and close, no words coming out. I was appalled at her insinuation that Lacey had become ill as a way to garner attention.

  Goldie glowered at her mother but didn’t take the bait regarding her former mentee and stager. “Be that as it may, we still have a way to redeem ourselves in the eyes of the town.”

  “Ah yes, the toy drive.” Rudy hoisted his giant frame from the plaid couch he’d been sitting on. “It’s in a little less than a week.” He was the perfect person to be discussing Christmas toys. I did a double take at his outfit of brown corduroy pants with black boots peeking out of the bottom cuffs. He wore a white fisherman’s sweater topped with red suspenders. His long white beard was gleaming. He appeared just as I imagined the real Santa would on a casual day off.

  “Lacey was supposed to run the toy drive.” Alan made his way over from his desk, a folder in his hands. He stopped expectantly before me. “I know you’re busy with my daughter’s wedding plans. But could you take on the toy drive?”

  I gulped as all assembled peered at me with expectant expressions.

  “Um, sure.” I tried to tamp down the uncertainty I heard in my voice. “I’d love to!”

  “You’re a gem.” Alan deposited the thick folder of details in my outstretched hands and beamed at his family.

  “We want the town to be on board,” Goldie worried. “Winning over prospective buyers of our homes is the very first step. It’s more important than the designs of the homes and housing developments themselves.”

  “But it has to be organic,” Clementine reminded her daughter. “I’ve single-handedly made many inroads with the women and men who take my yoga class.”

  It was true. My sister was smitten with the fiery businesswoman and grandmother, all from taking one of her classes at Bodies in Motion.

  “Which is why your toy drive will be a success and recoup some of the good will we lost with the way Paws and Poinsettias ended.” Clementine slung an arm around her worried daughter, and Goldie seemed to relax.

  “And we should give credit where credit is due.” Goldie grew solemn. “The toy drive wasn’t actually my idea—it was Lacey’s.”

  Clementine dropped her arm from her daughter’s shoulders like a hot coal. The deceased stager was the ghost of Christmas past who kept making an appearance in our conversations, whether Clementine liked it or not.

  “This is quite a home office.” I tried to fill the awkward space of dead air th
at stretched before us.

  “We worked here all summer while we were renovating the building downtown,” Goldie explained. “And now that it is a crime scene, we relocated back to the cabin.” She sighed and took in the recently humming workspace. “But I really don’t like mixing business with pleasure.”

  “There wasn’t a place for an office when we had the original cabin.” Clementine seemed to volley her reminder at Alan. She stared at her son-in-law when she made her statement.

  Alan winced and then squared his narrow shoulders. “That old thing? It was no place to entertain prospective business contacts.” He glanced around him at a space both light and airy, with its oversized windows stretching fifteen feet high. “This is a triumph for March Homes.”

  “I would have stopped construction of this albatross if I’d known in time,” Clementine grumbled next to me. I don’t think anyone else heard her. But her voice grew loud enough for all to hear. “We should have kept it a simple, rustic retreat.”

  Ruh-roh.

  Alan waved off her complaint with a flick of his slender fingers. “What’s done is done, Clementine. Every once in a while I do get to make a decision as part of the executive board of March Homes.”

  So, this was the kind of steamrolling of her dad that Olivia had alluded to when discussing her proposed wedding menu. But it seemed like Alan got his way occasionally. And judging by this log cabin mansion, he’d gotten it big.

  “Guess what I had taken out of storage?” Goldie’s usually calm and prim countenance was alight with mirth. “The family wedding dress!” She smoothly swept the consternation between her mother and her husband under the rug and wheeled out a dress form from behind a screen.

  “It’s lovely!” Olivia breathed out. She stepped forward and gingerly extended a satin sleeve of the gown.

  Rudy grew misty-eyed and extracted a red, plaid handkerchief from his back pocket. He dabbed at his twinkling jet eyes and blew his nose loudly on the large square of fabric. “Don’t mind me. I just can’t believe my little grandbaby is getting married!”