Gooseberry Christmas

by Kathi Daley

  As we chatted, I found myself marveling at what a nice guy Adam really was. I was glad that my first impression of him had been wrong. He wasn’t quite as animated and outgoing as his brother, Archie, but I found that I really did enjoy sitting with him in the truck and chatting about our lives while eating a sandwich and looking out at the bay.

  Chapter 6

  By the time I’d finished at the Christmas tree lot and had gone home to walk the dogs and shower, it was time to head over to the Rambling Rose. Tegan had to cover for one of her servers who was out sick today but promised to stop by the table she’d reserved for us and check-in when she could. Coop ended up with a last-minute charter, which took him to Spokane for an overnight stay, and Hope, who Tegan had originally invited, had come down with a cold and had decided to stay home. Once the food was served, Parker jumped in and let us all know that she’d spoken to Jackson’s attorney, who predicted he’d be released the following day after he’d had a chance to speak to the judge. Everyone was happy to hear that. Not that Jackson would be totally in the clear, but at least the pressure to solve the crime and find the killer right away would be lessened.

  Jemma then informed us that she’d been unsuccessful in gaining access to Bradford’s financial records, but she had managed to get access to his phone records. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear there was anything in those records that would help us figure out who’d killed the man. We discussed the possibility that Bradford might have had a second cell phone, but without access to the phone or the number, there wasn’t much we could do to prove or disprove that fact.

  This brought us to Parker’s report on the suspects she’d planned to follow up with today. “I spoke to all three individuals on the list,” she informed us. “Eugene Long had nothing nice to say about our victim, but after a long conversation with the guy, I came away from the meeting with the impression that he hadn’t killed the man. He admitted that he was more than just a little angry about the fact that Bradford had taken action to have his license suspended, but he swore that he hadn’t been mad enough to kill the guy. I asked him about his previous arrests for domestic violence, and he assured me that his ex-wife had been as much to blame as he had and that no formal charges had ever been pressed.”

  “Did he have an alibi?” Booker asked.

  “Actually, he did provide an alibi,” Parker answered. “Sort of. He told me that he had a showing last night that turned into a date. An overnight date. I asked how long this date went since we know that Bradford was killed early in the morning, and even an overnight date might not give him an alibi for the time of the murder, which I’ve been able to determine, was around eight o’clock. He admitted that his date had left his home around seven-thirty, but he argued that he’d shown up to work by nine o’clock, freshly showered and professionally dressed. Long argued that if he’d been at the Christmas tree lot and killed Bradford around eight o’clock, which is when it appears he died, he wouldn’t have had time to go home, shower and dress, and get to work by nine o’clock. I have to admit that I agree with him on that.”

  We all agreed that given the timeline, it seemed unlikely that Eugene Long was the killer we were looking for.

  “Was it Deputy Todd who told you that Bradford died around eight o’clock?” I asked.

  “Actually, it was a contact in the coroner’s office,” Parker shared. “I frequently need to access information that isn’t available to the public. The coroner is pretty tight-lipped, but there is a clerk in the office who seems to be willing to share what she knows or can gain access to for a price. She told me that the official coroner’s report lists the time of death between seven-thirty and eight-thirty. The body was found around nine, so the timeline seems pretty close.”

  “Did the coroner’s report provide any other relevant information?” Booker asked.

  Parker nodded. “The official cause of death is a stab wound to the heart. Based on what I’ve been able to find out, the man died quickly. It’s doubtful he’d even been able to call out. Not that calling out would have mattered. The building where he died would have been pretty isolated at that time of the morning.”

  “Okay, so what about Margaret Dover?” Josie asked.

  “Like Eugene, Margaret had nothing positive to say about the guy. In fact, she said more than once that the guy got what he deserved. I understand her anger. Not only did Bradshaw choose to break up with her in a very public forum when he could have waited until they were alone to break things off, but apparently, he said some cruel things about her as well.”

  “Cruel things?” Jemma asked.

  Parker’s face hardened. “He indicated that the reason he was breaking up with her was because she was lousy in bed.”

  “Oh, my God, he didn’t really say that, did he?” Josie gasped.

  Parker nodded. “That’s what Margaret said. She also said that the guy ran hot and cold. One minute, everything was great, and it seemed like they really had something special going on, and the next minute, he was going off on a rant. Margaret told me that all her friends thought she should break up with the jerk, but she really loved him and thought she could help him work through his issues. Then he got drunk at that party. Margaret said he was so mean, his actions and words ended the question of whether or not their relationship would continue once and for all.”

  “Did you ask her about her part in the destruction of property after the breakup?” Jemma asked.

  Parker nodded. “She admitted that she’d gone just a bit crazy when the man she loved announced to everyone at the party that she was so lousy in bed that he was moving onto someone better. She’d had a few drinks herself, which probably is why she hadn’t had the presence of mind to stop herself when her impulse was to start throwing things at him. Margaret told me that she apologized to the homeowner and volunteered to pay for the damage. Margaret doesn’t have an alibi for the time of death since she was at home getting ready for work, but after speaking to her, I found myself doubting that she’d killed the guy.”

  “And Gregory Fishman?” Booker asked.

  “This one is less certain in my mind than the other two,” Parker admitted. “Not only did the guy just lose his wife but in addition to his grief over her loss, he also has the baggage of knowing that she wasn’t faithful to him. The guy is a wreck. As far as I can tell, he hasn’t been back to work or gone anywhere since his deathbed conversation with his wife.”

  “I just can’t imagine what could have caused the woman to come clean at that point in her life,” Josie said.

  “Maybe she had a belief system where an unconfessed sin might keep her from heaven or something like that,” I said. “She knew she was dying and wanted to die with a clear conscience, so she decided to come clean.”

  “She should have asked to talk to a priest and saved her husband the grief,” Josie insisted.

  I found I had to agree with Josie. I felt so bad for Gregory, and I’d never even met the man.

  “Did he have an alibi for the time of Bradford’s death?” Booker asked.

  “No. Gregory said he was home in bed, but, of course, he has no way to prove that. The guy really is a mess. The house was filthy, and it looked like he hadn’t cleaned since his wife passed. It also appeared he hadn’t showered or really eaten. There were empty potato chip bags evident in the living room along with dozens of empty rum bottles, but I didn’t notice any evidence of actual meals having been consumed.”

  “How long ago did the man’s wife die?” I asked.

  “About ten days ago. After Gregory spoke to his wife in the hospital, where she confessed her biggest sin, he left. He headed straight to the bar, where he poured out his grief to the bartender. Eventually, he passed out, and the bartender took him home. His wife died the following day, and when the hospital called to let him know she was gone, he told them she was no longer his wife, and they could do whatever they liked with her remains. She was sent to the funeral home that had been listed on her paperwork. I spoke to the
funeral director, who said that Gregory wired some money for her cremation but insisted that he didn’t want the ashes, and they could just dispose of them.”

  “Did the couple have children?” I asked.

  “A son who died in a car accident five years ago,” Parker answered. “I think the death of the son and the affair happened around the same time.”

  “So the man is a mess,” Booker said. “He’s hurt and angry. He can’t take his grief and anger out on his wife, who’s dead, so it’s not all that far of a reach in my mind that he may have snapped and taken his anger out on the man who took something from him he can never get back.”

  We all agreed that Gregory should remain on the list. We also decided to add Durango. Colton had mentioned him as a suspect on that first day, and if Bradford has been sleeping with his ex-wife, it might very well provide a motive worth exploring.

  Tegan stopped by the table during a lull and shared that one of her servers had told her that in the days before his death, Bradford had come in alone several times. He was a regular customer, preferring to eat out rather than cooking, but the odd thing was that instead of sitting at the counter and chatting with the staff as he usually did, he’d sat at the table in the corner and had eaten alone. This didn’t necessarily explain who killed him, but it did seem as if Bradford may have been contemplative, possibly even depressed, in his final days. Could he have had a problem only he knew about? A problem that may have led to his death?

  Chapter 7

  I knew Adam planned to volunteer at the Christmas tree lot today, so I decided to head into town after I’d walked the dogs and cleaned the cottage up a bit. I planned to attend the annual Christmas tree lighting on the boardwalk this evening and would need to come home to walk the dogs again, so I wouldn’t be able to volunteer for long, but since today was opening day for the Christmas tree lot, I figured they’d be busy and would appreciate the help.

  I’d been away from home a lot lately and was feeling bad that the dogs had been cooped up as often as they had been, so I took them for an extra-long run. It was a gorgeous day. Cold, but crisp and clear. The sunny sky shone off the bay, creating the illusion of diamonds on the water.

  It had been a week since I’d had the opportunity to work on my mystery, but since receiving the message Thanksgiving evening, I was less inclined to simply jump in without a plan of some sort. I’d wanted to see what Adam had been able to find in his parents’ suite, but with everything that had happened this week, I simply hadn’t had the time to arrange another visit.

  When I returned from my run, I showered and dressed. By the time I was ready to head into town, Booker had sent a group text to everyone considered to be part of the “gang,” letting us know that Jackson had not only been released from jail but that he’d shown up at work acting as if nothing odd was even going on. The consensus of the group, based on the responses to Booker’s text, was that Jackson probably just needed a mental break from the whole thing and would realize soon enough that just because he was out of jail, that didn’t mean the problem he was facing was over. We all agreed that the only way Jackson could really be free from worrying about the murder was if the real killer was caught and brought to justice.

  The vehicle and pedestrian traffic through town along the boardwalk toward the Christmas tree lot was heavy. I guessed I wasn’t the only one who was anxious to get out and enjoy the beautiful sunshine. The boardwalk had only been open on weekends since I’d been in town, but today was Friday, and almost every one of the little carts and table displays was open for business. I supposed the Christmas tree lighting that evening might have something to do with the busy walkways. Based on what I’d been told by the others, the Christmas tree lighting was a well-attended event that most of the locals, as well as many area visitors, came out for.

  Luckily, the Christmas tree lot was at the far edge of town beyond the boardwalk, so there was still parking in the lot when I arrived. After taking a minute to enjoy the perfection of spending the Christmas season on the bay, I headed toward the sales booth, where I hoped to find Adam.

  “The antler headbands are really cute,” I said to Brenda, who was manning the sales booth.

  “A woman in town makes them. She dropped a bunch off this morning. Are you here to buy a tree or to volunteer?”

  “Volunteer, actually.”

  “Great.” She smiled. “I could use a break, so you can take over here.”

  “Okay. What do I do?”

  She handed me a list. “The prices for everything we have for sale other than the trees are on this list. Most of the items are here on consignment, so you’ll need to keep track of the number of headbands, ornaments, wreaths, and decorative statues that are sold.” She handed me a small binder. “There’s a ledger inside. You just need to put the price of the item sold in the correct column when you make a sale.”

  “Okay. That sounds easy enough.”

  “The hot cocoa and baked goods are sold separately. They’ve been donated to the chamber of commerce, so you don’t have to log every sale. The hot cocoa, coffee, and cider are a dollar each, and the baked goods are marked.”

  I nodded. “Okay. And the trees?”

  “When a customer finds the tree they want, they’ll remove the price tag and bring it up to you. Once they pay for it, you’ll put the price tag in the box and then hand them one of these red sold tags. There are volunteers to help the customers load the trees into their car if they need assistance.” She began gathering her things. “If you have any questions, just grab one of the other volunteers. Adam is building tree stands in the back, and pretty much everyone else working the lot today has volunteered before, so everyone should be able to answer any questions you might have.” She handed me a red vest. “Wear this, so the customers know you are part of the staff.”

  “Okay, thanks.” I took the vest and slipped it over my sweater.

  “I just need to run down the street to my shop and check on things. I should be back in an hour or two. If you need a break before then, just grab someone.”

  With that, Brenda was gone, and I was alone with my lists, ledgers, and cash box. When I’d decided to help today, I envisioned helping people to find the perfect tree, or maybe building stands alongside Adam. I figured we could chat while we worked, but the way things worked out, it appeared I’d be alone during the majority of my shift. While working in the sales booth wasn’t my first choice, it was festive, and with the warm sunshine on my shoulders, really enjoyable.

  The Christmas carols that blasted over the loudspeaker were of the traditional sort, which was actually sort of nice. I hadn’t eaten anything other than an apple this morning, so I grabbed some cash from my pocket and bought a large coffee and banana nut muffin from the donated baked goods.

  “Can I help you?” I asked a young couple who wandered in from the parking lot.

  “We’re looking for a White fir,” the man answered.

  “A big one,” the woman added.

  I looked down at the map someone had drawn and left for whoever worked the sales booth. “It looks like you’ll find the White firs in the back of the lot to the left.” I pointed in the direction I’d indicated. “Just head toward that giant Rudolph and take a left. Once you hit Frosty, you’ll find the trees you’re looking for to the right. When you find the one you want, just grab the price tag and bring it back to me. After you pay for the tree, I’ll give you a sold tag, which will allow you to take the tree from the lot. If you need help loading it, you can grab someone in a red vest.”

  “Thank you so much.” The woman smiled. “How much are those wreaths?”

  “Between five and ten dollars, depending on size. They have tags on the back.”

  “Let’s grab the tree first,” the man suggested. “We can check out the wreaths when we come back to pay.”

  The couple walked away hand in hand, and I felt a sense of satisfaction that I’d been able to help them without incident.

  The next hour flew b
y. It was just as I started on my second hour at the sales booth that the first hiccup occurred. A woman who’d been by earlier had come back to the sales booth to report that she’d paid for a tree and had set it aside while she looked through the other items for sale, but when she’d returned to get the tree so she could load it into her truck, it was gone. I asked her if she’d attached the sold tag that I’d given her to the tree before she left it, and she said she had. While I hated to think that anyone would steal a Christmas tree, it appeared as if someone had. After speaking to Adam, we decided to refund the woman for the missing tree and then allow her to pick out a tree on the house. This seemed to appease her a bit, but she still wasn’t happy since apparently, the first tree she’d selected had been the perfect tree, and the others on the lot simply didn’t compare.

  “Maybe I can help you find something just as good,” I offered after the woman came back to the sales booth for the third time, claiming all the trees we had left were defective. I looked around the area. “I’m just going to grab someone to watch the sales booth, and then we’ll look together.”

  “I guess that would be okay,” the woman agreed. “But the tree I had was perfect. I really doubt you have anything else that will compare.”

  I was sure the woman was right since she’d already made up her mind, and I really doubted that a tree existed in the entire state that would match up with the tree created in her imagination. Still, I felt like I should at least try to make her happy.

  “I seem to remember that you purchased a Noble fir.”

  “An absolutely perfect Noble fir. Not a bare spot to be found on that tree. It’s a shame someone took it.”