Trouble Under the Tree (A Nina Quinn Mystery)

by Heather Webber

  I thought again of the photos on that hidden camera. My shock, sometime during the night, had dissolved into amusement.

  Maria said, “I was up all night, Nina.”

  My sister was never one to miss her beauty sleep. “Define all night.”

  “Okay, so I went to bed a few minutes late, but still. Think of all the growing the baby could have done during that time.”

  I didn’t point out that the baby would grow whether Maria was asleep or not and quickly started to wonder how I was going to survive listening to these tidbits for another seven months.

  “I was up late working on a scrapbook for Emily. I saw all those pictures of Carrie at her house yesterday and thought she might like to have copies of the pictures I have. Then I thought it would be the perfect time to practice scrapbooking. I want to drop it off at Emily’s, but on the off-chance that she might be a psycho killer, I don’t want to go alone. Will you come with me?”

  I sat on the edge of my desk. It was barely eleven, and I was already exhausted. I’d finished most of my Christmas shopping with Ana last night. Then, unlike Maria, I’d actually been up all night. Thinking. Not only about what I’d seen on that hidden camera, but about what Kevin had said. How Lele had been transported in Santa’s sack.

  Kevin might be right—that employees would automatically think it had been Dave and give the mystery Santa his attributes, but two things had occurred to me in the wee hours.

  One was that a picture never lied. And Emily Hodges had pictures galore from the morning Lele was killed. She was bound to have caught Santa in the act. Her photos might identify a killer.

  And two was that if Jenny was sobering up Dave at a local coffee shop during that time, she couldn’t have been the one dragging the sack around.

  Jenny wasn’t the killer.

  “Nina? Are you listening to me?”

  “Did you say something?” I asked.

  “You’re not funny.”

  Not this again. “Yes, I heard you. And yes, I’ll go with you. There’s something I want to look at in Emily’s house.”

  “I’ll pick you up in half an hour, okay?”

  “What? I’ve got to work.”

  “Go home sick. Don’t you know there’s a stomach bug going around?”

  She hung up before I could argue with her about driving. She was a notoriously bad driver, and I didn’t particularly feel like getting into an accident today.

  I dialed Tam’s cell number.

  “Are you okay?” she asked. “You didn’t drown your sorrows over Bobby with tequila last night, did you? I have the best hangover recipe. Tomato juice, horseradish, a bit of—”

  I cut her off. “Actually, I’d been in denial about the whole Bobby thing until you just brought it up.”

  “My bad.”

  Suddenly tequila was sounding pretty good. “I have an errand to run with Maria, and I don’t know when I’ll get back. Can I transfer all work calls to your house for the afternoon?”

  “I’m not at home, Nina. Ian is taking Niki and me to Michigan to meet his some of his family. We’re in the car on the way up there. Sorry.”

  “That’s okay. I’ll try Brickhouse.” I hoped she wasn’t working at Christmastowne today.

  “You might want to try her at Mr. Cabrera’s house. She’s been spending a lot of time there.”

  I wished her a Merry Christmas and gave Brickhouse a call. She was, in fact, at Mr. Cabrera’s.

  “I’ll expect overtime,” she said when I explained the situation.

  “Aren’t you getting paid enough by Christmastowne?”

  “Ach. Donatelli and I quit yesterday. The place gives me the heebie jeebies.”

  “Are you sure it’s not because Jenny scares Mr. Cabrera?”

  She clucked. “You didn’t hear it from me.”

  I smiled. “How is he doing?”

  “Alive and well.”

  “You know, I’ve been thinking.”

  “Dangerous.”

  Why did people keep saying that? “Har, har. Anyway, how long was Mr. Cabrera married before his wife passed on?”

  “Forty-two years.”

  “Then it seems to me that it’s only his dating that’s cursed.”

  “What are you trying to say, Nina Ceceri?”

  “You’re a smart woman, Mrs. Krauss. You’ll figure it out.”

  I hung up with a great gift idea for the two of them. I made a few calls and set it into motion.

  I was locking up when my cell phone rang again. It was Ana.

  “Tonight’s the night,” she said.

  “It’s gonna be all right?”

  “What?”

  Doesn’t anyone listen to the radio anymore? “Rod Stewart.”

  “Oh. He’s kind of hot for an old guy.”

  “You and my mother have the most interesting taste in men.”

  “You did not just compare me to Aunt Cel.”

  “My bad.”

  “As I was saying. Tonight’s the night my tattoo gets finished. Did you get that sedative from Aunt Cel? Because I’m going to need it.”

  “I’ve got it.”

  “You’ll come with me?”

  “Will you get drunk with me afterward?”

  “Will you respect me in the morning if I do?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Then I’m in.” Maria pulled into the parking lot and honked. “I’ve got to go. Maria’s here.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Hopefully not to a psycho killer’s house.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  “Maria’s driving.”

  “Do not take my sedative, Nina Quinn. I need it.”

  My sister was a notoriously bad driver.

  I smiled. “It’s safe and sound in my coat pocket. I’ll see you tonight.” She didn’t need to know that my mother had given her two. If Maria’s driving was particularly bad, I might have to “borrow” one.

  What Ana didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her—and would probably save my sanity.

  ***

  I needn’t have worried.

  Maria had driven slowly. Turtle slow. Slower than Mr. Cabrera-in-a-school-zone slow.

  All because she didn’t want to jostle the baby.

  I kind of wondered where that thinking had been yesterday when she’d tackled me on the stairs.

  “Did you call ahead?” I asked as Maria knocked on Emily’s door.

  The goats in the yard made a playful neeeeah sound, but it didn’t seem like anyone else was around. I couldn’t even hear the chickens.

  “I’m not a Neanderthal. Of course I called.” She tapped her high-heeled boot and clutched the scrapbook (which was quite nice) in her arms.

  “But?” I could tell there was one.

  “She didn’t answer and there was no machine.” Maria rang the bell again.

  After a long minute, the door swung open. “Maria! Nina. What are you doing here? Come in out of the cold. Forgive my mess.” Her hair was pulled atop her head and she seemed to be covered in flour. “I’m baking bread.”

  It smelled heavenly. The warm doughy scent of freshly-baked bread filled the house. I breathed it in.

  “Is it hard to make?” Maria asked.

  “Not at all once you get the hang of it. I can show you sometime,” she said.

  “That’d be nice,” Maria said, sitting on the sofa. As I sat next to her, she leaned in and whispered, “I hope she’s not a killer.”

  “Yeah, let’s hope.” In case she was, I’d called Kevin on our way here to let him know where we were.

  Just in case.

  “I have to admit I’m surprised to see you both here.” She tipped her head and looked at us curiously.

  Maria thrust out the scrapbook. “I wanted to give this to you. I made it!”

  Emily lifted the cover, and her hand flew to her mouth. “This...this is wonderful. Thank you, Maria.” We sat in silence for a couple of minutes while Emily looked from page to page, tears
in her eyes. “This is the best present ever. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Maria said.

  “Would either of you like a drink? I have coffee, tea, brandy.” She smiled. “I’m going to have a little brandy in my coffee.” She disappeared into the kitchen. “I’ve had a hell of a morning at the police station. You wouldn’t believe who was there.”

  Since I wasn’t driving, I asked for brandy in my coffee as well. Maria sounded disappointed as she asked for water. Emily came back and set a serving tray on the coffee table. “Benny was at the police station. It looked like he was being questioned.”

  Maria twisted the cap off her bottle water and pouted at it.

  I poured a healthy dose of brandy into my coffee. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. But you should have seen his face when someone told him who I was. Priceless.”

  I looked up at her pictures. “Do you mind if I look through these?”

  “Not at all,” she said. “Do you think Benny was being questioned about the murders?”

  “No,” I said, scanning each photo I came across.

  “Then what?” Emily asked.

  Shoot. It would be out soon anyway. “He kind of got a little aggressive with me in his office the other day.”

  “Aggressive how?” Maria asked.

  “He didn’t like me saying no to him.”

  She jumped up. “I’ll kick his ass!”

  I smiled. “Been there, done that. And I’m pressing charges. Unfortunately, it will be a he said, she said kind of situation. But I won’t back down.”

  “That’s terrible, Nina,” Emily said. “I think, though, that I can help you.”

  “How?” I asked.

  “There’s a hidden camera in Benny’s office. I’d just need to get back in to get the disk.”

  Maria squealed. “That’s fantastic!”

  I agreed. “That’s some of the best news I’d heard in a while.”

  Except… “Do you think you can accidentally lose the footage of me going through the employee files before Benny came in?”

  Emily’s eyes widened. “Why were you going through the files?”

  “Trying to get more information on Glory Vonderberg. Not that it helped. Turns out that other than creepy taste in men, her record is clean.”

  Emily smiled and said, “I’ll make sure those frames on the footage are deleted.”

  I kept scanning pictures until I came to the morning Lele was killed. There were dozens of shots—all of which the police would probably like copies of.

  Still going through the various shots, I zeroed in on one of them.

  I blinked, rubbed my eyes, then blinked again. It was a picture of Santa dragging “his” sack through Christmastowne.

  Only Santa wasn’t a he.

  It was a she.

  Maybe my instincts weren’t off after all. I turned around to show the photo to Emily when I heard a car coming up the driveway.

  She stood and looked out the picture window. “Who could that be?”

  Maria and I both took a peek.

  Glory Vonderberg had pulled into the driveway. Benny sat in the passenger seat.

  “What are they doing here?” Emily asked.

  Nothing good, I was sure.

  Through the windshield, I could see Glory and Benny talking.

  “What’re they saying?” I asked Maria.

  “Benny just asked whose house this was and why they were here. He’s worried they’re going to miss their flight.”

  “Wow,” Emily said. “You’ve got amazing hearing.”

  Maria laughed. “Lip-reading.”

  “Oh!” Emily smiled, then frowned. “They’re skipping town?”

  “Apparently,” Maria said, peering out the window. “Glory just said that he didn’t need to know whose house this is, and to please calm down about the flight. She said she had something to take care of and wouldn’t be but five minutes.”

  “It probably has to do with this.” I showed them the Santa picture.

  “Oh my God,” Emily said.

  “What is that?” Maria asked.

  “Proof that Glory killed Lele,” I said, my pulse kicking up. I pushed my backpack and the photo into Maria’s arms. “Take all this and go out the back door, hide somewhere safe, and call Kevin. My cell phone is in my purse. Stay outside, no matter what. She doesn’t know you’re here, and I’d like to keep it that way, understand?”

  She nodded and ran for the back door.

  Emily grabbed my hand. “What are we going to do?”

  I jumped at the knock on the door. “We just won’t answer.”

  “I’m okay with that,” she said.

  Glory knocked again. We stayed perfectly still. Then watched in horror as the door knob turned.

  Glory stuck her head in. “Hello! I thought I heard voices in here.”

  Emily said, “Glory! What are you doing here? Isn’t this a pleasant surprise?”

  Glory’s eyes widened when she saw me. “Well, doesn’t this save me a trip to your place? Hello, Nina.”

  “Hi, Glory.”

  That’s me. Nina Colette Pretend I’m Not Scared to Death Ceceri Quinn.

  Glory walked amid the pictures. “So it’s true, Nancy. You’re Carrie Hodges’s mother. Benny said so, but I didn’t quite believe him.” She wrinkled her nose. “Sometimes he’s not the most reliable. Should I call you Emily now?”

  Emily let go of my hand and sat down. “Either one. Why don’t you have a seat. We’ve got coffee. Freshly baked bread. Brandy.”

  She was stalling. I loved that about her.

  Glory lifted an eyebrow. “Brandy’s good.” When Emily went to reach for the decanter, Glory said, “I’ll get it.” As she slowly poured, she added, “I think you both know why I’m here.”

  “Nope,” I said and looked at Emily. “Do you?”

  “I never did like you,” Glory said to me. “A little too nosy for your own good.”

  Hmmph. As if this was the first time I heard that.

  Glory glanced around the room, looking at pictures. While her back was turned, I very quickly dropped one of my mother’s sedatives into the snifter she’d left on the table.

  “When I found the hidden camera in my shop, I thought Jenny had put it there.” Glory picked up her brandy and sipped. “You know, to catch me and Benny in the act. Never even suspected you, Nancy. I knew there was something off about you, and I’m really disappointed in myself. I usually recognize a good con when I see it. It takes one to know one, you see.”

  I silently urged her to drink the whole snifter in one big swallow. Chug-style.

  “No,” Emily said, “I don’t see.”

  Glory drank a little bit more, then plucked some pictures from the clothesline. She dropped them on the table.

  One was of her, one was of Lele at the reindeer kiosk, and one was of Fairlane as Mrs. Claus. “Take a good look,” Glory said. “See the family resemblance?”

  My eyes widened. There was a resemblance there. The hair, the eyes, the ego. Especially between Glory and Fairlane.

  “My dearly departed sisters. Too bad. So sad.”

  Emily gasped. “Sisters?”

  Why oh why hadn’t I checked to see what Glory’s maiden name had been? I’d bet my favorite sheep-printed pajamas that it was Walters.

  “Older, of course,” she said, fluffing her hair. “But I was the brains behind the business. Obviously, since they’re gone, and I’m still standing here.”

  This explained why the payoff money had been divided into thirds. “You killed them both.” I thought about making a run for it, but I couldn’t leave Emily here alone.

  She finished her brandy and refilled the snifter. She took the decanter and swung her arms in wide arcs, emptying the rest of the liquid onto the walls, the floors—everything. “Yes. Just like I’m going to kill the two of you.” The decanter came down on Emily’s head with a sickening crack of glass against bone.

  Emily slumped off the so
fa.

  I backed away slowly, looking for anything I could use as a weapon.

  There was nothing.

  “If only you minded your own business, Nina,” Glory said. “It wouldn’t have come to this.”

  “How so?”

  “You were snooping in Benny’s office, weren’t you? When you came onto him?”

  “Me? Come on to him? Right.”

  “I never did see you as the vindictive type, though. Just because he didn’t return your advances was no reason to file false charges against him.”

  “He attacked me.”

  “No,” she said, shaking her head. “Benny’s too sweet for that. But he’s also the nervous sort and is afraid a jury won’t see things his way. I don’t think he’d do well in jail. And,” she laughed, “I know I wouldn’t. It’s best just to get rid of you once and for all. Then Benny and I will run away together. I have more than enough money to take care of us.”

  I prayed Maria had skipped Kevin altogether and called 911 straight off. “If you have enough money, why did you set out to con Benny?”

  “Because, Nina,” she said snidely, “I want to keep having lots of money. Thankfully, there are always plenty of marks. Foolish men.” She shook her head.

  She was cra-zy. I inched another step backward. I was almost flat against the wall. “Why kill your sisters?”

  “Still nosy to the end.” She moved closer, with nothing in her hand but the brandy snifter. “Well, I suppose I can grant you a dying wish. I made the mistake of falling for a mark. But I wasn’t the only one.”

  “Fairlane?”

  She laughed. “Hers was a bigger mistake, because only I was willing to kill for him. Though, mea culpa, I have to confess that I killed Fairlee by mistake. I thought she was Fairlane—I came up on her from behind. Not that it mattered, she still had to go—she would have known too much—but imagine my surprise when I discovered my mistake.”

  Nope. There was no imagining that. “Didn’t Fairlane suspect you?”

  “Not in the least. She thought Lele had been mugged or something. Fairlane was never one to concentrate too much on anyone else.” Her eyes darkened. “Until Benny. Again, her mistake.” Suddenly, her hand shot out and she doused me in the brandy. “It’s your mistake, too, going after him. Sexual battery? Please. You should be flattered he found you the least bit attractive.”