Morrie swiped Heathcliff’s hot toddy and took a long sip. “That still doesn’t solve the issue of motive. Tabitha has no reason to want to steal the Christmas tree.”
“No reason that we know of.” I watched as Tabitha entered the room, her arm looped in a tall, dark, and handsome stranger. I pushed my chair back. “But I bet she has one. I’m going to find out.”
“Croak.” Quoth settled on my shoulder, his talons digging into my sweater dress. I’m coming with you.
I made my way across the room to the bar. The stranger leaned in close to whisper something in Tabitha’s ear. She threw her head back and gave a tinkling laugh, tossing her hair over her shoulder in what I could only describe as a classic Ashley flirting move.
“Tabitha, hi!” I slid into the empty seat beside her, leaning back as her vanilla perfume smacked me in the face. Is she drowning herself in perfume to disguise the smell of catnip? “I just wanted to say how excited we are to have you shoot the calendar at Nevermore—”
The words dried in my throat as I recognized the guy she was with. Sitting on a sticky barstool in the Rose & Wimple pub was none other than the world-famous photographer Roland Crabapple.
Chapter Eight
Mina, you’ve gone all stiff. Quoth’s voice pounded inside my skull. What’s wrong?
“H-h-h-hi,” I stammered, completely taken aback.
I’d met famous fashion people before. Hell, I used to intern for the avant-garde New York Designer Marcus Ribald. But there were famous fashion people, and then there was Roland fucking Crabapple. When Tabitha said she’d booked him to shoot the calendar, I’d half-assumed she’d been scammed, and some white-headed grandpa who spent his weekends taking pictures of steam locomotives would show up.
“Mina, have you met Roland?” Tabitha leaned back on her stool and touched the photographer’s arm with a kind of possessive claw. Her attitude was as brazen as her outfit – a bright red figure-hugging dress, giant dangling earrings sparkling with diamonds, and a long fur coat. She didn’t have any qualms about showing off Roland around the village, even though half of them had grown up with her husband.
“Hello.” Roland reached out to shake my hand. His skin felt cold and clammy. Even though I couldn’t see him doing it, I felt his eyes raking over my body. Fashion photographers were often kind of sleazy, but Roland made my skin crawl. “You have quite the sense of style, Mina. I didn’t expect to meet such chic ladies on my trip to the middle of nowhere.”
“Mina used to work in the fashion industry,” Tabitha cooed. “She’s way too glamorous for us Argleton-bunnies.”
“I-I-I thought you weren’t coming in until tomorrow morning,” I stammered out.
“I’ve actually been in the village for a couple of days.” Roland snapped his fingers to signal the landlord like he was some fancy Lord ordering around a butler. When Richard came over to serve us, he looked annoyed. He slammed glasses of mulled wine in front of Roland and Tabitha and turned away without a word. “I’m intrigued by your little charity venture. It combined two of my favorite things – Christmas trees and caring for animals. I have a cat of my own, so I know how important it is that they be cared for to a high standard. I’d have stopped by to introduce myself and take a look at the space, but Tabitha has kept me busy.”
“Roland has been… tied up with appointments,” Tabitha explained in a simpering voice.
“I think you mean, I’ve tied you up,” Roland purred, leaning in to place a wet kiss on Tabitha’s cheek. His hand wrapped possessively around her waist. It was then that I noticed the black choker around Tabitha’s neck had a tiny gold chain attached, which extended to a ring Roland wore on his finger.
Ew. Gross.
I mean, I was all for a little experimentation. Morrie had handcuffs and all sorts of fun things in his room. But Roland Crabapple was old and gross. I’d never want his cold hands anywhere near me.
“Mmmm,” Tabitha purred, leaning back against Roland and tilting her chin back, exposing her neck for another of his wet kisses. “It has been quite a… pleasurable trip. I’ve been showing Roland the sights of Argleton. We spent all day yesterday visiting the arboretum and the botanical gardens. Roland gets so excited around plants and trees, it’s positively enthralling…”
“Yes, the wonders of nature inspire my work. If you’ll excuse me, ladies. I need the gents.” Roland flashed me a sleazy smile before reaching up to unbuckle the chain from Tabitha’s neck so he could slide into the crowd.
Tabitha leaned over, a devilish smile on her face. “He’s amazing. Isn’t he?”
“Um, sure. He’s shot some iconic designers. Are you sure he’s the right fit for the Argleton charity calendar?”
“Of course,” Tabitha beamed. “Only the best for our village. Now, you haven’t forgotten we’ll be there bright and early at 5AM. Is it okay if I move around the decorations on the tree? Roland will need things to be just so—”
“That’s just the thing, Tabitha. There’s no tree. Someone stole it last night.”
She gasped. “That’s horrible.”
Her surprise seemed to be genuine, but she could just be a good actress.
“Yes, it is. All the presents for the charity are gone, too.” I slipped the earring out of my purse. I had a better plan for how I’d catch our thief. “Luckily, I know people who can help us get to the bottom of the mystery. We’ll bring down the full force of the law on their asses. My flatmate Jo happens to be a forensics expert. She’s coming in first thing tomorrow to do a full investigation. The police are, of course, taking this matter very seriously. I’m confident that anyone sneaking around in our shop will be in for a nasty surprise when DS Wilson comes knocking.”
“Oh, no,” Tabitha breathed.
“Oh, yes.” I nodded vigorously. “The robber dropped this earring. Tonight when we get back to the shop, I’m going to place it into an evidence bag and leave it on Heathcliff’s desk for Jo to analyze. I’m sure she’ll find traces of DNA that can link us to the thief.”
“That’s a good idea,” Tabitha said weakly, knocking back her wine in a single gulp and reaching for Roland’s. “This villain must pay.”
“I couldn’t agree more.” I slipped the earring back into my pocket.
Roland returned from the bathroom. “I wanted to ask you, Mina. Would we be able to borrow your bird for our photo shoot? He’s quite a remarkable creature.”
“Croak,” Quoth agreed with Roland’s assessment. If only he knew.
“I’ve been telling Roland all about the raven,” Tabitha said, finishing off Roland’s wine. “How Quoth is kind of a store mascot, and how that Mr. Heathcliff seems like a grumpy old brute but actually saves all these animals. First that bird, and then that grumpy cat. He doesn’t even mind all the defecation.”
“I feel a personal affinity to ravens,” Roland reached over to pet Quoth’s head. “They’re some of the most intelligent animals to exist. And this guy reminds me of that poem, ‘Once upon a midnight dreary. While I pondered, weak and weary—’”
“Croak.” Quoth shot the photographer a warning look.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” I said.
But Roland was on a roll. “I studied the classics at Cambridge, you see. I’m a lover of great literature. I can recite the great works by heart. ‘Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—’”
“Croak.” Quoth flapped his wings and took off, hovering just above Roland’s head. This is your last warning.
“While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door—”
“Croak!”
SPLAT.
I whipped out my phone and snapped a picture just a giant glob of raven poop landed on Roland Crabapple’s bald head.
“Thanks, Roland,” I said brightly. “That one’s for the shop’s Christmas cards.”
Chapter Nine
“Do you want me to wait up with you?” Heathcliff a
sked as I smoothed a blanket over the leather couch. We’d spent the rest of the evening not-so-subtly spreading the word around the fete that Jo would be conducting her forensic investigation. If a guilty party wanted to wipe any remaining prints or evidence from the scene, or recover their lost earring from Heathcliff’s desk, they’d have to sneak back into the shop tonight. I’d be here waiting for them.
Jo was visiting her cousins in Scotland for the holidays. Even if she were home, she probably wouldn’t conduct a full-on forensic investigation for a Christmas tree robbery, but the village didn’t need to know that.
“Croak!” Quoth protested, hopping across my pillow. I’m watching out for you, and I don’t want him here.
I shook my head at Heathcliff. “That’s okay. I’ve got Quoth. You go to bed.”
Heathcliff’s eyes bore into mine. I’d hurt him by refusing his help. I wondered if the offer was his way of reaching out. Maybe he was trying to get me alone so he could talk to me about what was bothering him. I opened my mouth to say I’d changed my mind, but Heathcliff was already stomping up the stairs.
I sighed and turned back to the couch. A beautiful, naked boy sat where the raven had been only moments before. “Good riddance,” Quoth growled, flipping his silken hair over his shoulder.
“Don’t be like that. I think he wanted to talk to me,” I said. “Maybe if we both went to him together and—”
“I don’t want to talk to Heathcliff. Or about Heathcliff.” Quoth reached up and pulled the cord to turn off the light. Except for a string of fairy lights looped over the balustrade, Nevermore Bookshop was plunged into darkness. The mysterious draft whipped through the room, kissing my skin with ice. Quoth shuddered and pulled me closer.
Shrouded by darkness, Quoth and I whispered together. Mostly, I let him talk, expressing his frustration and suspicion of Heathcliff in a wave of bitter resentment that sounded nothing like the Quoth I knew. I held him tight and wished I could reassure him that we’d find who really did this and get the presents back and he and Heathcliff could go back to being friends, but I wasn’t sure I was as convincing as I hoped.
The only way to repair their friendship now was to prove Heathcliff didn’t steal the tree. Quoth realized that too. It was why he was here with me, waiting in the gloom for something to happen—
A key turned in the lock. My breath hitched. I stiffened, freezing in place lest a movement should give away our vigil. In my arms, Quoth’s body shifted, silently retracting into itself as feathers poked through his skin. A moment later, a bird of shadow scrambled out of my arms and went to wait in ambush.
Creak. The door swung inward.
Creak. Creeeeeak.
Someone tiptoed across the hallway. A shadow blocked the fairy lights as the intruder hovered in the doorway, fumbling for a flashlight. Quoth dived from the bust, croaking at full volume as he flapped his wings in the intruder's face.
“Argh, help, help!” the intruder cried.
“Ah, hah!” I cried in triumph, leaping up from the desk and flicking on the light. Tabitha’s face glowed with terror as she flapped her hands uselessly at Quoth, who flew at her with the full fury of a bird slighted.
Chapter Ten
“What are you doing here, Tabitha?” I demanded.
“I’m… I’m…” She ducked as Quoth grabbed the collar of her coat and tried to tug it over her head. “Get this bird off me! He probably has rabies.”
“Croak!” Quoth butted her with his head. I resent that.
“You’re perfectly safe. He doesn’t have rabies, and I promise he won’t attack you anymore.” I held up my arm and Quoth fluttered over to rest. “Provided that you answer my question. You can’t be setting up for the photo shoot, because I already told you it’s postponed. So why did you break into the shop?”
Tabitha’s lip trembled. “Technically, I didn’t break in. You gave me a key.”
“Croak!” Quoth glared at her with those yellow eyes. Tabitha whimpered. She collapsed into the velvet chair, her shoulders sagging.
“Fine. I came to try and find my missing earring. Because… because Roland and I came here last night to shag under the tree, and I lost it.”
Of all the things I expected her to say, that was not one of them. “You… what?”
“It’s one of Roland’s little traditions. You know artists – sex and inspiration are entwined. Before a shoot, Roland likes to make love to one of the models on set. It’s part of his creative process. And when he heard the set was an enormous Christmas tree, he was even more excited. He believes sex in nature imbues the air with a kind of activated magic—”
“Let me get this straight, you and Roland Crabapple were downstairs last night, shagging under the tree?”
“Well, we tried to do it under the tree. It had tipped over onto the table, so there was some space back here.” She pointed. “But there were so many presents, it was a bit awkward. And then Roland’s foot bumped the stand and the tree toppled over onto the floor.” She shrugged sheepishly. “So instead, he bent me over the desk.”
I leaped up from the desk, yanking my hands back. I’m going to need a powerful disinfectant. No, no, Roland Crabapple might have touched it with his… I think it’s a goner. We need to burn the desk and salt the earth around it.
“What time was this?”
“We got here just after midnight. I know because Roland wanted to wait until the church clock struck twelve. That’s another part of his tradition.”
My heart leaped with joy. If the tree was still here when Roland and Tabitha were doing their thing at midnight, that meant Heathcliff hadn’t gotten rid of it when he arrived home for the pub. This proves that Heathcliff didn’t—
No, it proved nothing. DS Wilson would still argue that Heathcliff could have come back down and got rid of the tree after Roland and Tabitha left. Besides, I already knew Heathcliff didn’t do it, but that hadn’t gotten us any closer to restoring the tree and gifts.
If she hadn’t taken the tree, Tabitha had been the last person to see it intact. Or at least, semi-intact. I swiped my hand through the pile of needles on the table. Now we know why there are so many needles here. “Apart from knocking over the tree, you didn’t touch any of the presents? Roland couldn’t have taken them—”
“Oh, no, we left with everything we came with, and nothing else.” Tabitha gave me a sheepish smile. “Except for my earring. I knew if your forensics friend found it, I’d get pulled in for questioning and I’d have to admit what Roland and I were doing. Oh, and as I was gathering up my clothes, I stood on a present and broke it – I ended up covered in this foul-smelling liquid.”
The catnip.
“Roland was outside waiting for me, so luckily he didn’t get any on him. It took me hours in the shower to get the smell out!” Tabitha continued. “No wonder Roland ran away.”
Wait, what? I leaned forward. “Where did Roland go?”
“I don’t know! We had a room together at the Argleton Arms, but he never came back. He sent me a text in the morning and I met him for breakfast. His clothes were all rumpled and filthy. He said he’d gone for a walk in King’s Copse, and was video-chatting with his cat and lost track of time. But what does that even mean?”
“No idea.” If Roland was MIA during the night, did that mean he could have come back to the shop to steal the tree and presents? “Did you know if you still had my key when you got back to the hotel?”
“I didn’t look. I was so anxious to get the smell off me. But it was in my coat pocket after breakfast.” Tabitha wrapped my hand in hers, her eyes pleading with me. “Mina – please keep my secret? Roland and I didn’t take the presents, and I can’t have a criminal record. I wouldn’t be able to do my charity work. And then my husband would find out and the gossip would ruin us.”
Then maybe you shouldn’t have slept with a sleazy photographer in someone else’s shop, I felt like saying, but that wasn’t fair. I didn’t know Tabitha’s situation and I wasn’t going to slu
t-shame her for her bad decisions. “I’m only interested in returning the tree and presents. Everyone thinks Heathcliff did it.”
“Well, he was very negative,” Tabitha sniffed. “I don’t understand how it’s possible to hate Christmas so much. Yes, carols are annoying, but there was no call for such rudeness toward those of us trying to do good in the community.”
I couldn’t argue with that. “Is it possible someone snuck inside while you were… um… occupied?”
“I guess so? We left the door unlocked while we got down and dirty. Roland had a whole bag full of toys.” Tabitha tugged the collar around her throat. “He does things with a feather that would make your bird friend blush.”
“Croak?” Quoth looked horrified. I might’ve burst out laughing if I wasn’t so busy trying to rub away any Roland residue from my hands. “You didn’t see anyone else near the shop when you entered or left?”
“I don’t think so… oh, yes, actually. That vagrant fellow. Earl? He was sitting under the window ledge when we left. We even had a little chat.”
“With Earl?” The homeless man was not known to be especially chatty. One of the few people he got along with was Heathcliff, and that was because neither of them uttered more than two syllables to the other if they could help it.
“Yes,” Tabitha giggled. “It was so funny. Earl asked me why the tree was gone from the window, and I said Mr. Heathcliff had thrown it down in a fit of rage and declared he didn’t want it! Earl had no idea what we were up to. Let me tell you, woman to woman, the thrill of getting caught makes it even more exciting—”
“Yes, well, I’m sure.” I held out my hand. “Just to be safe, I’ll have my key back.”
Tabitha fished it from her pocket and dropped it into my hand. “I guess I’ll be off now. Thank you for your discretion. If I hear anything on the village grapevine about the tree, I’ll make sure to pass it on.”
How Heathcliff Stole Christmas: A Nevermore Bookshop Mysteries novella Page 6