Christmas is Murder

by Arnold, Carolyn

  Even though her back was to the man, Sara sensed his heart was broken over the situation. She imagined his gaze on her.

  “Well, you don’t need all the details.” His gravelly voice confirmed her suspicion.

  “I assume there will be an investigation into the cause of the fire,” Sean said.

  Sara straightened and turned to face the chief, her shoulder remained tucked under Sean’s armpit, their torsos as close as possible with their bulky winter coats.

  “It’s standard protocol.”

  “Did they have any family? People—”

  “Mrs. McKinley, arrangements for the notification is being made as we speak.”

  “We just met them this afternoon.” The statement fell as a guilty confession, remorse over not knowing them underscored every word.

  “They have a daughter who lives in town.”

  “Please, what is her name?”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you that.”

  Sean tightened his hold on Sara. “We understand, Chief—I’m sorry, what is your name?”

  “Harold Fox.”

  “We got it,” a voice called over the radio.

  The men, who were spraying the front, turned the water off and lowered the hose. The smell of fire clung to the air. The snowfall that had earlier cast a magical spell had taken on the weight of loss and sadness.

  -

  Chapter 3

  “BLUE CHRISTMAS”

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE THEY’RE GONE.” Sara was on the couch beneath a blanket.

  “I know how you feel, darling.” He watched her as she took a sip of her cognac. There was nothing one could do to ease the pain that came with loss—the only remedy was time.

  “We never even got a chance to know them. We should meet our other neighbors, Sean.”

  He nodded. There was nothing to say to that. Now wasn’t the time. He was happy to see that she remained sitting and didn’t get up to act on it.

  His eyes traced to their tree. To think, only hours ago, the room was filled with laughter. Everything was going right in the world. He was even enjoying the snow, which typically held more appeal for Sara than him.

  Sara’s cell vibrated across the table and she answered.

  He could tell it was Jeannie from this side of the conversation. She and Leon had made it home fine. He picked up on the excited pitch of Jeannie’s voice over the line. She must have been telling Sara about how they got their tree all set up.

  The curve of Sara’s lips fell, a somber expression washed down her face. Listening to her share the news about the Wilsons drilled an ache into his heart. Sara had taught him that everyone was connected, and, whether people wished to believe that or not, it was the truth.

  She hung up and faced him. “I just wish there was more we could do.”

  “There’s no way the fire chief is going to hand over their daughter’s name.”

  “I know how to get that, Sean, but it will require a bit of waiting.”

  He recalled the habit of Sara’s that he found particularly strange, but it made her unique and it did, at times, serve a purpose. If it hadn’t been for this pastime of hers, he might not have heard about Mr. Quinn in time to pay his respects at the funeral. That man was responsible for all the good that had come into his life—and, by extension, Sara’s. “Their obituaries?”

  She nodded. “I just wish I knew what caused the fire, you know what I mean?”

  “Your detective nature at it again?”

  “I guess so. It’s probably just because I don’t want to accept how they were here one minute and gone the next.”

  “Darling, you and I should know, more than most, that’s how life works—for better or worse.”

  “Yes.” She peered into his eyes.

  If he had superhuman capabilities to shelter her from all the injustices of the world, he would. Sadly, that was something even all his riches couldn’t buy.

  “Chief Fox said that he’d update us on their findings. It’s nice that he’s doing that.” Sean recalled the man’s hesitancy in making that agreement, but he had complied, stating that it wouldn’t be until the next of kin was notified. “I believe he’ll follow through. He seems like a good man.”

  “I agree. Do you think it was an accident, Sean?”

  He swept her hair back. “Always the detective, aren’t you.”

  “I can’t help it.”

  “In this case, I think we need to accept that a terrible accident occurred.”

  “I think you’re right. I mean who would want to kill those two? They were sweethearts, at least I got that feeling.”

  “So did I.”

  Sara rose from under the blanket and flicked off the fireplace. “It’s time to follow my father’s advice from earlier in the evening.”

  -

  Chapter 4

  “O CHRISTMAS TREE”

  SARA WAS UP BEFORE THE sun rose. It was still hard to believe the neighbors they’d met yesterday were gone today. They had seemed like such a nice couple, and she could imagine that she and Sean would have had them over for coffee and chats.

  They were on the sofa now, Sara sipping her third coffee of the day, and Sean drinking a large glass of orange juice.

  “I wonder how long it’s going to take them to determine the cause of the fire.” She tucked her legs beneath her and faced him.

  “It’s hard to say. I’d think these types of investigations could take time. Especially in a house that size.”

  “I need to know what’s going on, Sean. I really want to reach out to the Wilsons’ daughter. Do you think he’ll give us her information now?”

  He glanced at the clock on the mantle. “It’s ten. We could head over to the fire station.”

  “What a lovely idea.” She was already to her feet before he set his glass down.

  THEY ENTERED THE FIRE STATION and a fireman, dressed in uniform, came over to them.

  “Can I help you?”

  “We’re looking to speak with Chief Fox,” Sean said.

  The man assessed them, his eyes staying on Sara a little longer than Sean would have liked, but he was getting somewhat used to men ogling her. At least he took pride in the fact she was his alone. He put his arm around her and she glanced up at him. Between her eyes and the slight curve of her lips, she read his underlying jealousy.

  “Sure, I can see if he’s available.”

  “Tell him it’s rather urgent.”

  “Okay.” The fireman dragged out the single word and gave one final glance to Sara before turning to head into the offices.

  He led Sean and Sara to a desk where a large woman sat. A brass plate announced her as Bernice. She was typing on a computer and looked up over her glasses at them. She slid her gaze to the fireman, silently demanding an explanation.

  “They want to speak with the chief.”

  Bernice held a glint in her eyes when her attention was drawn back to Sean—she found him attractive. It was his turn to be ogled.

  “My name is Sean and this is my lovely wife, Sara. We would like to—”

  “The McKinleys? What are you doing here?” The chief came in from behind them, holding a mug.

  “We want to talk to you about the fire at the Wilsons’ house.” Sara jutted her chin, likely only enough that Sean picked up on it.

  She was taking this situation extremely seriously. Her intuitive instinct had her suspecting the Wilsons’ deaths could have been prevented. For a woman who had gone through a couple investigations that touched close to home for her, it should have surprised him that she was even thinking in this manner. But he knew his Sara. If there was a truth to be uncovered, she would dig until it was exposed. His job was to back her up and be an equal partner. Truth was, what good was having money if all one did was lie around doing nothing? They had the means
and the experience to make a real difference.

  “Bernice, hold my calls for the next while,” Fox said.

  “Sure thing.” She smiled at Sean and he noticed how it transformed into a grimace as her gaze drifted to Sara.

  The chief sat at his desk and gestured to the two chairs across from him. “I won’t beat around the bush. There has been a ruling on the fire.”

  “Already? And?” Sara leaned forward and Sean put his hand on her back.

  “And, it was for the reason I had suspected.”

  “Related to the Christmas lights?”

  “Ones on the tree, specifically.” Harold leaned back in his chair, cradling his mug as if he were enjoying a leisurely conversation with friends. “One of the lighted ornaments shorted out or overheated.”

  “Lighted ornaments? I’m guessing the kind that plug into light strands.” Sara’s face paled. “Does that happen?”

  “I wouldn’t say it’s common, but it’s not impossible. In this case, I don’t think there’s any more to it than that.” Harold looked at Sean.

  His instinct told him Fox was aware of more than he was letting on. Something was lurking in the man’s eyes.

  “I know that you like to solve crimes, but I don’t think any has taken place here. Just a matter of unfortunate circumstance.”

  Sean’s suspicion was confirmed. “How do you know who we are?”

  A smirk lifted the chief’s lips. “I knew who you were the moment I saw you yesterday.”

  “But you asked us our names,” Sara said.

  “I was affording you privacy.”

  “That was kind of you, but not necessary.” Sara held her purse to her chest.

  “I would think you two should be more surprised when someone doesn’t know you. You’re basically celebrities.” Harold was beaming as if he was in the presence of royalty. His grin took over his face and had him resembling a caricature of the Cheshire cat.

  This was taking a weird turn and had Sean’s gut swirling. Harold was almost starting to sound and appear like a groupie—almost. They had to stay on point with the information they wanted or they’d end up taking a detour leading to their own story.

  “There’s one other thing we’d like to know, Chief,” Sean began.

  “Please, simply, Harold. I feel like I already know you.”

  They needed out of this office as soon as possible. His background as a cop had all of Sean’s senses tingling. To be a policeman it was necessary to pass a psychological evaluation, he assumed the same applied to being a fireman, let alone one in a management position. He should feel secure around the man, but the wacky reflection in his eyes had Sean questioning the chief’s—Harold’s—sanity.

  “Chief, there’s one other thing you could help us with.” It was one thing for Sean to think of the chief by first name, but, now, another to verbalize it.

  His mouth twitched as if he were insulted that Sean didn’t take him up on the friendly offer. “Certainly.”

  “We’d like to know who their daughter is.”

  “No can do.”

  “Why?” Sara crossed her leg toward Sean, leaning her frame in the direction of the desk, and Harold. “Could you do us this one,” she pinched her fingers to near touching, “tiny, little favor?”

  Sean tried to hold back a smile.

  “I’ve probably already given you enough information that could get me fired. I’m sorry. There was a holdup, but she’s being informed right about now actually. Until that’s all confirmed…”

  “We understand. Darling?” Sean was already to his feet, his hand extended to help Sara up.

  She put her hand in his but scanned his eyes. He hoped that she could read what he was trying to communicate. He needed to get away from the man.

  -

  Chapter 5

  “THE CHRISTMAS WALTZ”

  SARA’S PARENTS WERE EXPECTING THEM to stop by later in the day, but since she and Sean were already out, she called to confirm if they were good to come over now.

  “What was wrong with you back there—in the firehouse?” Sara asked. “You went kind of nutty.”

  “I was nutty? You’re not the only McKinley with good instincts you know. Didn’t you catch a load of that man? He would play the role of groupie-stalker quite well don’t you think?”

  “You’re being paranoid.”

  “Am I now? And if I were, can you blame me? I have you to protect.”

  She put a hand on her chest. “Me? To protect? I will have you know that I took care of myself quite well before—”

  He reached over and squeezed her leg. “But it wasn’t near as fun now, was it?”

  “No, you’re right about that.” She giggled, but it stalled when her eyes caught her parents’ house.

  They had done a magnificent job decorating their property, even if it was a little over the top compared to Sara’s preferences. Her parents had always been immensely into the holidays—every single one of them, to be precise. But Christmas had been their favorite, a time to indulge and go overboard with lights and tinsel.

  The house they had bought while she and Sean were in Europe was a five-bedroom bungalow that sat on an acre of property. The driveway was short, with the back yard eating up the majority of the land.

  Candy canes lined the drive, white lights strung between them. Grouped at the base of the front steps, were three giant baubles—about two feet across—that glittered with light. One was red with white snowflakes, one was green with a gold filigree pattern, and one was blue with silver starbursts. They were beautiful and had Sara wanting her own set.

  Sean rang the doorbell and she was almost surprised that it chimed a standard ding-dong.

  Her mom answered. “Come in, you two. You know you never have to ring the bell.”

  Her dad came in from a hallway that fed off to the right of the living space.

  “I wouldn’t want to walk in on anything.” Sara volleyed back in response to her father’s tease from the day before. The day before? It was hard to believe it had been less than twenty-four hours since they were sitting in front of the fire, light-hearted and sipping spiked hot chocolate.

  They took off their outerwear and her mom and dad hugged her. Her dad shook Sean’s hand.

  She wished that the two men would overcome their male egos and seal their familial bonds with an awkward male embrace, followed by separating with eager pats on each other’s backs. Someday it would happen.

  “You don’t have to worry much about walking in on anything here—not after twenty-five years of marriage.” Her mother’s turn to tease.

  “Wonderful, is that what we have to look forward to? That, and keeping score.” Sara winked at Sean. She referred to his statement from the last week when he’d mentioned it was time to start doing just that—joking of course, but still, she thought she’d throw it back

  “Well, come on in. Make yourself at home.”

  Sara took in the space. Her parents had picked a beautiful home—that was certain. It was gray brick, just as they had always had a preference for, and it had a spacious, open-concept layout.

  Inside the front door, there was a closet and foyer, while straight ahead, the room was long. One half was the kitchen and formal dining room, the other side was the living space. Their Christmas tree was there, beside the fireplace.

  “It’s beautiful, Mother.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  Sara glanced at Sean and he was smiling. She tightened her grip on his hand, realizing that this year would be special for him too. He had lost his mother when he was nine and his father when he was twenty-one. His life had been full of deep losses, and she surmised he never would have experienced a family Christmas, or if he had might not remember it. She would do her best to make this year memorable enough that it would fade any painful memories associated with the seas
on.

  “Let me get us something to drink,” her dad offered. He pointed a finger to Sean. “Cognac or Scotch?”

  “Let’s do Scotch tonight.”

  “And you, Sara?”

  “Just a small glass of white wine.”

  “You got it.”

  “Get me the same?” her mother asked.

  “Certainly.”

  Sara walked to the tree and inhaled the aroma of the evergreen. A real tree was the only way to go for the holiday. Anything else just wasn’t the same, but it was probably the way she was raised. “You’ve done a lovely job, you really have.”

  “Thank you, dear.”

  Sara traced her fingers delicately along the tinsel. The boughs were heavy with trinkets in every shape and size. The majority were brass but complimented with greens and reds. Ribbons dangled from some and baubles in the color spectrum of the rainbow accented the foliage. She found her “Baby’s First Christmas” ornament. It was a white bell with a bear at the top and her name on the bell’s waist. She pointed it out to Sean, who stood behind her, and he smiled. She addressed her mom. “You still have this?”

  “I would never get rid of that one. If it broke, I’d glue it back together.”

  Sara smiled at her mother.

  “Some things you can never get back. You grew up so quickly, and look at you now.” Her mother kissed her cheek and gave her a quick hug.

  Sara touched the back of her mother’s hand and smiled before leaving to take a seat on the couch. Sean sat beside her.

  “I see this is new.” Sean ran his hand down the dark chocolate leather arm of the sofa, but referred to the entire matching living room set.

  Her dad returned with their drinks. “That it is. Jeannie saw it and she had to have it.”

  Her mother dropped into one of the leather chairs and crossed her legs. “That’s horrible about what happened to the Wilsons. The poor dears. They must have been terrified.”