“You were right - I should have asked first.” Sissy sniffled.
“OK...well, that’s true. But you didn’t kill Josie. You probably didn’t even add that much rum, did you?”
“I didn’t think so.” Sissy frowned. “Just a splash.”
“See? That’s not enough to hurt anyone.”
Sissy looked down at her shoes and thought about that.
Jenny looked out over the park. It struck her how strange this night had become - she was sitting here with a dead body on one side and a Christmas celebration on the other. She understood - the kids didn’t need to know what was going on out here. They should enjoy the party. But the lights and music seemed crass and a little bit wrong, somehow, with death at Jenny’s elbow.
“Poor Chuck is probably going crazy,” Sissy said. “He’s back in the booth, all alone.”
Jenny patted her hand. “Why don’t you go check on him?”
Sissy looked hopeful, but then her eyes slid toward Colt. “Do you think he’ll mind?”
“Let me worry about him. Go take care of Chuck.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep. Positive.”
Sissy hesitated, then stood up. She glanced toward the trailer, then turned away fast and walked away. Jenny watched her go, then stood up and stepped inside the trailer. “Hey, Mike,” she said, trying not to look down at poor Josie’s remains.
He looked up.
“Do you have a cause of death?”
“Well, not for sure, but I can’t see any marks on her besides the head wound. If I had to guess, I’d say that somebody came in behind her and hit her pretty darned hard.”
“It would have to be someone pretty strong, wouldn’t it?”
He shook his head. “No, not if they hit her just right.” He looked down. “Apparently, they did.”
“Jenny Cooper!” Colt was coming, followed by Ruddy and his deputy. “Get your behind out of that trailer. That’s a crime scene.”
Chapter Nine
She came back down the ramp. “I’m surprised you noticed, Sheriff.”
He looked at the sky. “Lord, why have you sent this woman to torment me...”
Jenny snorted. “I’m your very own thorn, Colt. Merry Christmas.”
He leaned against the side of the trailer and crossed his arms. “So you’re telling me you know who murdered Josie, huh?”
“I am.” Jenny leveled her gaze on him.
“Well, then. Let’s hear it - and don’t make up some story to protect your good friend Ruddy here.”
“He didn’t kill anybody, Colt, and if you paid the least bit of attention, you’d know that.”
Colt didn’t look impressed. He looked impatient.
Sometimes she wondered how a man so dumb could keep getting elected... She stalked past him and bent down near where Sissy had been sitting earlier and pulled out the little thing she’d seen earlier. She handed it to Colt, who looked surprised, but he took it.
While he was looking at that, she went inside the trailer to get the shovel, being careful not to touch the handle. She took it back out to him.
“Are you wasting my time?” Colt asked.
Jenny put the shovel in his hand. “Do you see anything odd here?”
He looked the tool up and down, then he shrugged. “Not unless you count the blood stains, but we already know about that.”
She gripped the shovel and pointed the handle at his face. “See anything now?”
He squinted, then grunted and unsnapped a penlight from his belt. Shining it onto the handle where she pointed, he asked, “What is that?”
“Paint.”
She didn’t wait for him to argue about it. Instead, she pointed to the chunk in his hand. “Do you know what that is?”
He shot her a look. “Yes - about anybody would.”
“Well, then...?”
“You’re saying a woman did this?” Colt didn’t believe her - she could tell.
“I’m saying one woman in particular did this - Wilma van Winklet.”
Colt made a noise in his throat.
Jenny pointed to the shovel again. “When Wilma got here tonight, she had perfectly manicured nails. Neon yellow - exactly that color. Did you see her nails when she was holding Margaret’s hands a few minutes ago?”
He shook his head, and for half a second she wanted to wring his neck. “They were a mess, Colt. Exactly like she’d scraped them across something metal.”
“All right...And you’re saying this belongs to her, too?” He waved the woman’s shoe heel in front of her face.
“She was wearing a pair of shoes just like that when she got here this evening. I even commented that she might break her neck, and she laughed about it.”
“So? She said she was home at the time Josie got killed.” Clay dropped the shovel and shoe heel on the trailer ramp.
Jenny raised an eyebrow. “But nobody verified that, did they? She already told me that she had extra shoes in her car.”
He didn’t answer, so she went on. At least Ruddy was paying attention - in fact, he had an appreciative glint in his eye. It made her feel kind of warm and fuzzy inside. “I don’t think Wilma went home at all. I think she argued with her mom, and I saw her giving Napoleon eggnog with rum in it. Maybe she knew it would make the fox act out, or maybe she just wasn’t thinking. Either way, the fox ended up biting Josie and setting off this whole chain of events.” She paused. “You did see the bite mark on her hand, right?”
He didn’t answer, and she would have bet the farm that he hadn’t.
“I bet if you ask Margaret, she’ll tell you that Napoleon got away either just before or just after he bit Josie. He wasn’t with her, and he wasn’t in the petting zoo, either. I know that for a fact, because I noticed and wondered where he went.”
Colt rubbed his forehead. He looked like he was trying hard to follow her line of reasoning, but he didn’t stop her to ask questions.
“After they argued, Margaret headed for the petting zoo. Wilma told Sissy she was leaving and most likely came here to the parking lot. Now, I don’t know how she could have planned it, or if maybe she just saw her chance and took it, but Wilma would have been here when Josie got mad and came running this way. The time line matches up, I think.
“Since the only place to hide out here was inside this trailer, Josie would have run there. I know she didn’t leave - I was right behind her and didn’t see her leaving. Wilma could easily have seen her, too, and run in after her.”
“And she killed the girl in there?”
“I think so, yes.” Jenny looked around. More people were listening in, now. Ruddy hadn’t taken his eyes off her since she started talking. “I think she broke her heel in those vents on the ramp, and that’s how I found it underneath. Then I think she grabbed that shovel, did the deed, and ran away.”
“That’s a lot of running for a woman who has a broken heel,” Colt said.
Jenny shrugged. “I’m pretty sure she just kicked the shoes off somewhere and ran back through the park.” She pointed in the direction of the petting zoo. “It’s dark on that end, and it would have led to the overflow lot where she was parked.”
She stopped and took a breath. “Did you see how she was fawning over Margaret when you went to question her, Colt? Have you ever, in your whole life, seen those two women get along?”
Colt shook his head.
“Me either. I think Wilma ran across the fox, caught it, and brought it back to Margaret, hoping to get on her good side again.”
“But why?” Colt asked. “That’s the real snag here. Why would Wilma kill a girl? Especially one she didn’t know all that well.”
Jenny hadn’t figured that part out yet, but she could guess. “I think she was jealous. I think she missed her mom, and maybe she was jealous that Josie spent so much time with Margaret. Maybe she felt like she’d been replaced. It’s Christmas - maybe she was regretting all the years she’d spent fighting with Margaret. Who knows - you’ll
have to ask her.”
“I know,” a shaky, tired voice spoke up. They all turned to look.
Margaret stood there quietly, but to Jenny she didn’t look much like the old Margaret at all. Instead of the proudly lifted chin and the haughty gaze, she stood with her eyes downcast. Napoleon sat quietly at her feet. He seemed to be listing a little to the left, and she wondered if he was still feeling the booze a little. Poor fox.
“If you’re going to arrest anyone, arrest me,” Margaret said. “This was all my fault.”
“You made Wilma kill Josie?” Colt asked.
“Not directly, no. But I did start the rumor that I was going to give my fortune to Josie instead of Wilma.”
Jenny perked up at that. Sissy was usually good at keeping up with the local rumors, but this was the first Jenny had heard of it. It would explain a lot.
“I didn’t think she would take such a drastic measure,” Margaret continued. Truly, it was only a threat. I wanted her to miss me and come home.”
Jenny and Ruddy looked at each other, but Margaret wasn’t finished talking.
“I’m getting old,” she said. “I don’t want to leave my money - or Napoleon - to a stranger. I wanted Wilma to take care of these things. I was just too stubborn to say so.” She looked at Clay. “I made a mistake, and a good girl died here tonight. I’m sorry.”
Clay looked over at Jenny, who gave him the best smile she could muster. This had turned into a sad Christmas for the van Winklets.
“Where is Wilma now, Margaret?” he asked.
Margaret let out a defeated sigh. “She’s at my house, waiting.”
“You know we have to arrest her?”
Margaret nodded. “Can I ask a favor?”
Her voice was fading a little. Clay stepped closer to hear her better. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Could you wait until tomorrow to arrest her? I’d like one evening with my daughter.”
Clay hesitated. “Yes, ma’am. I think we can do that, as long as you promise she’ll be there when we come.”
“Thank you.” Her smile was genuine and lovely, one of the prettiest smiles that Jenny had ever seen. Behind her, the Ferris wheel spun round and round, flashing brightly in the darkness.
Chapter Ten
It was almost two in the morning, and Jenny was exhausted but happy. She had helped Sissy clean up the eggnog stand and then helped Ruddy load the reindeer. He’d even let her feed them. She never did make it over to see the polar bear cub, though. Maybe next year.
“Are you headed back to Wyoming tonight?” she asked. As bone tired as she was, she couldn’t imagine making such a long drive.
“No. The girls are settled in for now, and I’ve got a room waiting out at the motel near the interstate.” He threw the final latch on the rear door of the trailer and locked it down. “I’ll be leaving in the morning.”
She would be sorry to see him go. They’d only been friends for a few hours, but she already knew she wanted them to keep in touch. “Do you have time to swing by our house first? I hear Sissy makes a mean eggnog...”
He laughed. “I can attest to that. I’ve tasted it, remember?”
She nodded and smiled, knowing he would come.
“You sure you aren’t too tired?” he asked.
“Positive. I want to go home, hug my sister, and have a nice drink. You’re welcome to join us.”
He took his hat off and offered her a low bow. “Lead the way, ma’am.”
She turned and headed for her truck, but then stopped and turned around again when she heard her name.
He was pointing toward the sky. She looked too, and saw a star so bright and twinkling that it made her clap her hands. “Oh, how pretty,” she breathed. “It’s the Christmas star.”
“I thought you’d like that,” he answered. “Let’s go.”
Mansions Can Be Murder
Chapter One
“Wow, it looks like an ice castle,” Gemma Stone said as her best friend Holly steered the SUV onto the winding tree lined driveway that led to Northlake Manor.
Sharp icicles hung from the gutters of the beautiful bed and breakfast, glittering and twinkling in the winter sun. It had once been the Northlake family’s home, and from the driveway it still looked like one, a giant gothic mansion that could have been the setting of a horror movie. Only after getting closer could one see the brick addition along the back of the house that marked it as a hotel. That part also housed the ballroom-slash-convention center and a restaurant.
The grounds were beautifully landscaped and in the spring they would be bursting with color. Right now, everything was snow and ice, bright in the dull cloud-filtered morning sunshine. Even though the paved parking lot had been scraped clean of snow in anticipation of the busy days ahead, it was piled up in tidy drifts, still a brilliant white.
“You act like you’ve never seen the place before,” Holly said, shooting her a look from the driver’s seat.
“Well, it’s been a while. I think the last time we came out here was New Year’s, about three years ago,” Gemma said, a teasing grin on her face.
“Don’t. Don’t even go there,” Holly said, trying to place her hand over Gemma’s mouth.
Gemma dodged her, almost smacking her own head against the passenger window in the attempt. “Yeah, Nick and I went with you and, oh, what was his name?”
“Gemma, stop it,” Holly shouted, laughing now. “That was the worst New Year’s Eve I’ve ever had.”
Gemma laughed, too. “How did you get roped into going out with him, anyway?”
“Gemma...” Holly warned.
“Oh, yeah, I remember. Wasn’t he the brother of a friend of one of your cousins in town for the holidays?”
“Shut up.” Holly steered the vehicle around to the back, where they’d been told they would find a loading dock.
“Well, I still think it looks like an ice castle,” Gemma mused, keeping her eyes on those beautiful icicles that rivaled any sculpture she’d ever seen.
And then Holly made a sound and the vehicle came to an abrupt stop.
“Hey, watch it. You almost made me spill my coffee," Gemma grumbled.
With one hand on the dashboard and clinging to her coffee with the other, she followed Holly’s startled gaze and gasped. This was impossible, her mind kept saying. I'm not seeing this. They don't really exist. Gemma blinked in disbelief. And, yet, there they were. Her worst nightmare come to life.
Zombies.
There were only three outside the loading dock at the back of Northlake Manor but they were the most hideous creatures she'd ever seen. The weak winter morning sun, just peeping through the clouds seemed to highlight them as they shambled along the cinderblock wall with their arms outstretched, their mouths working as if already chewing on her flesh. Their clothing, covered in ugly brown stains which she assumed to be dried blood, hung in tatters. One's head was cocked at an odd angle. One was missing an ear. One of them had a hand that looked mangled and torn and he appeared to have been scalped, his white skull showing.
Even as the thought entered her brain that they still had time to escape, she saw Holly reach for the gear shift and slam the vehicle into reverse. And then there was a low, hungry roar much too close for comfort. A hideous face and two hands smashed against her window, the nose and lips flattened against the glass. Both women screamed. Holly stomped on the brakes hard to avoid running into a big panel truck parked right behind them, throwing Gemma against her seat belt.
"We're trapped," she moaned.
And then the monster stepped back from the SUV, stuffed his hands in his pockets and smiled. Nick Leonard stood there, head tilted to one side, grinning that lazy, sexy grin that was normally capable of melting her heart. Gemma barely had time to register this before a movement caught her eye. The zombies were lurching toward him in that slow, jerking, robotic gait. She screamed again and tried to open the door. She had to get Nick inside. She could not lose him; not like this. They had to get away from th
ere somehow.
Nick, seemingly unaware of the approaching zombies, watched her as she struggled with the lock, not knowing which way to push it to get the door open. Finally, she heard it click, wrenched it open and grabbed at Nick with both arms, intent on pulling him inside.
"Well, you're awfully happy to see me," he teased. Then he caught her hands in his and tugged gently.
The seatbelt hindered her movements. "Zombies," Gemma managed to gasp. "Don't you see them?" And then she froze and backed away. "Unless you...you're one..."
Nick burst into laughter. Holly was laughing as well. Stunned, Gemma looked from one to the other. Not Holly, too! She covered her face with both hands. God, this had to be a nightmare. She had to wake up.
“Look,” Holly said and tapped Gemma on the shoulder
Biting her lip to keep from screaming, Gemma peeked between her fingers and looked to where Holly was pointing. The zombies were no longer heading for Nick. In fact, they were walking away, laughing, talking and swaggering, moving and acting like real human beings now. They were obviously pleased at her reaction.
And so was Nick.
And so was Holly.
"This is not funny!" Trembling and near tears, Gemma punctuated each word with a hard punch at Nick's chest. He held her at arm’s length and none of them connected which made him laugh that much harder.
"Good job guys," Nick said, giving the laughing zombies a thumbs up.
"Why did you scare me like that?" Gemma almost screamed. "You know how much I hate zombies. And why are there zombies here anyway?"
"Northlake Manor overbooked again," Holly guessed as she climbed out of the SUV.
"You got it," Nick said.
"The EEMA convention and a..." Holly shrugged.
"Supposed to be a sci-fi convention, but it's gotten a little out of hand," Nick said, finally able to get close enough to Gemma to pull her into his arms.
She rested her head against his chest, loving the warmth of his arms around her and his familiar scent.
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