Christmas is Murder

by Arnold, Carolyn

  She nodded without hesitation. “It’s the only way, darling. We’re not thieves. We’re doing this for the higher good.”

  He had to wonder if that was the pep talk criminals gave themselves.

  Sean worked on the lock and it gave way in seconds. This was an easy one. He didn’t hold illusions that the entryway from the garage into the house would be that straightforward.

  They found the security panel, and Sara moved to punch in the numbers, as Sean got to work on the next door.

  As he had suspected, this was top of the line. The homeowners didn’t put as much effort into protecting their cars as they did the possessions in their house. Of course, the latter sheltered the lives of the residents—priceless assets with no replacement.

  “Got it.” Sara came up next to him.

  Her warm breath cascaded across the small patch of exposed skin between his gloves and jacket sleeve. “A little space, please.”

  “Oh, sure.”

  She was calm as if breaking and entering was something she did on a regular basis. Again, he wasn’t sure if it was attractive to him, or a concern that needed to be addressed.

  The tumbler released and they were in. He held a finger to his lips and urged her to be quiet. Even though they were relatively certain no one was home, there was no need to get careless. His heart thumped hard enough he feared it might come through his rib cage. Sean cringed as the opening door whined on its hinges.

  There was a faint light ahead of them, a pale green, and Sean guessed it was a nightlight plugged into a kitchen socket.

  Each step he took had him wanting to reverse course. This didn’t feel right. Then the faces of Maggie and Elbert entered his mind. Maybe he could justify his and Sara’s actions. They weren’t going to steal anything and their intention was based on a good motive.

  He stepped into the kitchen. The breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding whooshed out of him, and had Sara scanning his eyes.

  “Are you okay,” she mouthed.

  All he could do was nod. The words wouldn’t have formed aloud even if he was going to risk speaking. His paranoia was at a high.

  Sara put her hand on his shoulder and pointed toward the strands of colored lighting around the Christmas tree.

  Good. They could get to it and then get out.

  He took large strides with Sara beside him. His pant leg got caught on an adjustable toddler gate that hung in the doorway. As he shook loose of it, he thought it strange they had one as there was no sign of children living here. Across the hall was the living room.

  Ten steps easy and they’d be finished with their covert mission.

  Five steps later Sean spotted the large silhouette.

  -

  Chapter 16

  “ROCKIN’ AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE”

  “RUN, SARA.” SEAN MANAGED TO keep his voice slightly above a whisper, even though he wanted to belt out the warning.

  The ominous figure in the living room was not human—it was one hundred percent canine and large enough to devour them both and still be hungry come breakfast time.

  “Oh my.” Sara pointed.

  The mass rolled over and stood. Two feet tall—pure muscle. Its bared teeth were clear to see in the light of the tree.

  Time was up.

  Sean grabbed Sara’s hand and ran back toward the kitchen. If they could get into the garage, they could put this all behind them, forget that they had even been there.

  The snarls of the dog—a Rottweiler—were getting too close for comfort. Sean dared to turn around and the meaty creature was only three feet from their heels.

  If Sean could get them back into the kitchen…

  He pushed Sara through the doorway and flung the gate across. He didn’t have time to latch it. The dog barreled through as if nothing were in his way.

  “We’re going to die.” This from Sara, who had hopped onto an island counter. “Get up here, Sean!”

  Her scream ricocheted in his head. Was this going to be the end? Death by guard dog?

  She held her hand out to him, but he didn’t need her assistance. Sean leaped onto the counter as if he were jumping hurdles in the Olympics.

  The dog was undeterred. It bounced up, its huge claws clacking against the marble top.

  Sara and Sean bounded to another counter—just in time.

  The dog circled on top of the island, keeping its eyes on them, its teeth bared, drool dripping from its jowls.

  “Sean—” Sara’s shaky finger pointed across the kitchen.

  He followed her direction and did another vault that landed him on the counter leading to the fridge.

  “Good doggie. Good doggie. Sean!”

  He had his hand on the door. “What is it?”

  “He’s going to come over here.”

  “He’s not going to—”

  “I’m telling you he’s going to.” Sara picked up a cast-iron frying pan from a drying rack next to her.

  The dog paced with more intent.

  There had to be something…Sean’s eyes settled on the perfect distraction. He picked up the remainder of a prime rib roast and pulled off the plastic wrap.

  “Sean, I don’t know how much longer—”

  The beast was hunched back, ready to lunge at her.

  “Here, doggie. Here, doggie.” Sean waved the roast, wafting the aroma toward the brute. The dog’s attention turned, focusing on the offering.

  “Here you go. Good boy. Good boy.” Sean hoisted himself off the counter, keeping his eye on his opponent with each maneuver. “Here you go.” He threw the roast into the back of the mudroom, and the dog sprinted after it. “Shut the—”

  Sara slammed the door that separated the two rooms. She bent over to catch her breath, and Sean did the same.

  “You just had to mention guard dogs, didn’t you?”

  -

  Chapter 17

  “JINGLE BELL ROCK”

  SEAN AND SARA STOPPED beside the tree.

  “Let’s get this over with.” That’s what Sean said, but what he was thinking was they should just forget it and leave. Now.

  “I agree.”

  The dog must have paused its eating because a snarl rumbled from behind the door. It was short-lived, though, and didn’t hold its earlier conviction.

  Both of them looked back. Sean wondered if the same thought was passing through Sara’s mind. How long would the door hold if the dog got his mind set on getting in?

  He scanned the tree, trying to see if he could spot a gold starburst.

  Sara had her cell phone out and lifted it in front of the tree.

  Sean put his hand over hers and lowered her arm. “Whoa, what are you doing?”

  “I’m just taking a few—”

  “Nope, no way.”

  “Sean.”

  “I’m not letting you twist my arm on this one.”

  A light flickered through her eyes—one he wasn’t accustomed to seeing there.

  “It’s not that you made me come here, it’s just that—” There was no way he could talk himself out of the corner he had backed into. Despite the hopelessness of redeeming himself from the comment he had made, he wasn’t going to let there be any evidence of this “adventure.”

  “We look now, and that’s all we need to do.” He held her eye contact.

  “You’re right. You are. We just have to see if they have something on their tree that wasn’t on their list.”

  “Like the gold starburst.”

  “Yes, and,” she moved around the tree, following the strands of lighting, “see if there are any frayed wires.”

  “Exactly.”

  Less than a minute later, their inquiry was answered. There was no sign of the ornament on the tree and there were no exposed wires.

  “Let’s go
, Sara.”

  “I guess.”

  “Now, darling.” He reached for her hand and, as he rotated to take it, saw a box on a nearby coffee table. The label had Rudolph’s logo. The package was small and the top was cracked open with bubble wrap peeking out of a corner. He let go of Sara’s hand and lifted the box.

  “Open it.” Sara stood over him, poised on her tiptoes in anticipation.

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just take it with us?” He wasn’t being serious and had intended the comment as a stab at the illegal behaviors she kept suggesting. Her face fell. “Never mind me. I’m just not comfortable.” He felt her touch and let her take the box from him.

  She lifted the flap, and inside was a gold starburst. “Sean, they’re not supposed to have one of these.”

  He had to admit this appeared to be damning evidence against the Christmas shop, and Donnie in particular. “We have two houses that had this trinket, both showed no record of purchasing it.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I wonder if Donnie is sabotaging them, somehow turning them into fire hazards.”

  “All over him losing his job?”

  “Sadly, people have killed for a lot less.”

  Sara held up the starburst. “Maybe we should take this with us.” She shrugged her shoulders at the chastisement that, no doubt, his entire body was communicating. “If we leave it here, there’s a good chance that they’d plug it in and—Sean, other people could die.”

  He hated to admit that she had a point. How could he sleep at night knowing that he could have prevented a fire, and the possible loss of life? The truth was, he wouldn’t be able to, ever again. He assessed the value of the trinket and steadied his conscience, realizing that, technically, it was never paid for. Was that still considered stealing? He shook his head in hopes of clearing the conflicting thoughts. “Fine.”

  Sara touched his arm. “We’re making the right decision.”

  He still couldn’t help but wonder how they went from being law-abiding citizens to petty thieves.

  -

  Chapter 18

  “SANTA BABY”

  SATURDAY MORNING WAS THE DAY of the week they usually slept in, but Sara’s mind was already whirling. She’d been able to justify taking the gold starburst, reasoning that if they were wrong about it, they’d make it up to the homeowners.

  She rolled over and faced Sean. He was pretending to sleep, although, the show he put on was forfeited by bad acting. This time, when he cracked his eyelids, she was peering inches away from his eyes.

  “Good morning, darling.”

  “Sara, I had this nightmare we broke into a house, a dog almost killed us.” He stopped talking when the truth reflected in her eyes. “I was hoping you’d play along.” There was the glimmer of a smile.

  “On some level, I wish I could.” She bounded up, throwing the sheets off. “We need someone to look at the ornament, but first we need to confront Donnie.”

  He jumped up and hurried to her. He put his hand to his forehead, likely to stave off vertigo from rising so quickly. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  “It’s the only way.”

  She reached her phone and dialed Adam on speaker. When he answered, his voice was groggy.

  “We need to know Donnie’s last name.”

  “How did your B&E go?”

  “Oh.” Sean groaned and she rubbed his back.

  “We’re getting somewhere with this. We don’t believe that the Wilsons died due to an accident. We believe—”

  “Don’t get him involved more than he already is, darling.” Sean laid a hand over the cell.

  She nodded. He had a point. It was bad enough that Adam was aware of their B&E, making him just as culpable in the crime. Was it a crime? Her mind still debated that.

  She realized Adam was still holding. “His last name, please.”

  “Chamberlain. I remember seeing it when I was in their system.”

  Sean left her reach and paced in a circle.

  “And his home address?” she asked.

  Sean stopped walking, looked up, and raised his hands.

  Adam rhymed off the address for Donnie Chamberlain.

  “Thank you, Adam.” She hung up in the middle of him telling her not to worry about it.

  Sean had stopped moving and had his hands on his hips.

  “I’m not sure why you’re being like this, darling,” she said. “We will make it up to the Cussons if we are wrong. We’ll take the starburst back, or smarter still give them another ornament.”

  “Where is it?”

  “On the kitchen counter.”

  He was off and down the hall before she cleared the bedroom door, but she trailed after him.

  “You’re not going to plug that in here.”

  No answer.

  “Sean.”

  “There’s no other way to know for sure.”

  “But…I’ve come to love this house.”

  “We could buy a new one.” He was teasing her, it was apparent in his tone of voice.

  She got to the kitchen, but he held the trinket out of reach.

  “Just get the extinguisher.” He pointed to the cabinet beneath the sink before jogging to the other room to grab a strand of lighting.

  “I didn’t even know there was one in there.”

  “You never know when dinner might get a little overdone.”

  “Sean.”

  He started laughing. “I kid because I care.”

  As if she wasn’t self-conscious enough about her cooking.

  Sara pulled the extinguisher out of the cupboard and poised herself, ready to fire. “Go ahead. Burn down the house.”

  He dipped his head to the right and pouted but didn’t hold the expression long before he burst into a laughing fit.

  As long as he was enjoying himself…

  She smirked. “Plug it in.”

  He took a bulb out of the strand and connected the ornament to that spot. “All right. Be ready to pull the trigger on that thing if you smell smoke.”

  “I got it.” She adjusted it in her hands. She had never used one before and it was awkward to hold, but if it meant the difference between her house burning to the ground and not, she’d figure out how to operate it.

  “Here goes.” Sean plugged the strand into an outlet over the counter.

  Nothing.

  Then the lights flickered to life, including the one in the ornament.

  “Why did it delay?”

  Sean held up his hand to stay her from spraying the foam.

  They fixated on the glow of the ornament for thirty seconds. Sixty seconds. One hundred and twenty seconds.

  “Nothing is happening, Sean. There isn’t anything wrong.”

  He touched it. “It’s not even hot. You can put down the extinguisher, darling. There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with this one. We could wait it out a bit longer, but who knows how long it would take—or even if it would show any issues.”

  “Does that mean that it’s not what caused the Wilsons’ fire?”

  “It’s quite possible it’s not.”

  Sara’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t want to believe it.”

  “Believe it. We are common burglars.”

  She covered her face with her hand and peeked at him through two fingers. “We still need to talk to Donnie.”

  “Maybe it’s time to let this one go, darling.” Sean placed a hand in the small of her back.

  She let her arm fall. “Not yet.”

  “What do you hope to accomplish?”

  “The same thing I have from the start. I want to know exactly why the Wilsons died. And it’s not just because I want a reason. I feel in my heart that it wasn’t an accident, and I intend to prove it.”

  “I hope t
hat fortune turns around then. Because right now we can’t prove it.”

  “That’s why we’re going to talk to Donnie.” She left the kitchen and spun in the doorway, pointing to the plugged-in decoration. “Please take it out.”

  “Yes, dear.”

  -

  Chapter 19

  “RUN RUDOLPH RUN”

  SEAN WENT ALONG WITH SARA for one main reason. Her instinct was second to none. If she had a feeling about something, she was usually right. The only thing with this case was he was really starting to question her ability to discern fact from fiction.

  In her favor was that an explanation was needed for why the Wilsons and Cussons had a gold starburst when neither of their records showed they purchased it. It didn’t magically end up in their box of decorations, someone put it there and, according to the paperwork, that someone was Donnie Chamberlain. Whether that answer led to murder, Sean wasn’t sure.

  Sara rapped her knuckles on the screen door for Donnie’s townhouse. The door’s frame rattled under the pressure of her blows.

  “I promise that I’ll keep it basic and won’t put too much pressure on him, Sean.”

  The interior door was pulled in and the screen door swung open. Donnie rushed through as if he were racing for his life.

  Sara’s arms fanned out to save her balance, and Sean helped her before setting out after Donnie.

  Donnie hit a patch of ice that had his arms flailing and his legs going this way and that. He made Sean think of Bambi on the frozen pond.

  Still, the guy was quick. He righted himself and got his feet beneath him, then picked up the pace.

  Sean diverted into a snow bank to avoid the slick patch. Snow spilled over his boots. His feet would be soaked before all of this was over—another good reason not to love winter.

  “Stop,” Sean cried, knowing that his request was likely going to meet without response. “We just have a few questions.”

  “Go away.” Donnie’s pace slowed when he turned to look back.

  Maybe talking was the answer. “We want to know about the Wilsons.” Cold air rushed into his lungs, but his muscles yearned for more exertion.