Killer Christmas Cozies

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Killer Christmas Cozies Page 13

by Jenna St James


  “Can’t we drive over in a car?” Evie whined. “I think I’m coming down with a cold.”

  I ignored her protests and handed her a pair of goggles. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and face and hopped on behind me. The seat was really just made for one person, but we made due. Since a bicycle could go faster than the Polaris, there really wasn’t a need for a helmet.

  I handed her the flask I had hidden in my coat and she grabbed it gratefully. Adjusting my own goggles and scarf, we took off at a snail’s pace down the street. It took about five minutes to go a mile and a half.

  The clubhouse was aglow as I pulled into the packed parking lot. I waved to a live snowman as Evie and I made our way to the front door.

  “Maybe now is a good time to tell you I wasn’t exactly invited to this party,” Evie said amiably.

  I frowned at her innocent expression. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, we needed a way to talk with Gretchen, and I suddenly remembered this party. It’s not a group of teachers I normally hang with, so I wasn’t exactly invited.”

  My mouth dropped open. “We’re crashing a Christmas costume party?”

  “Yep.”

  “I like it!”

  Evie laughed and took another sip from the flask. “Let’s go mingle.”

  When we crossed the threshold inside, we split up to go find Gretchen. I pushed my way through the horde of Santas, Mrs. Clauses, reindeer, snowmen, and elves standing around talking and drinking. On the dance floor, a broken ornament gyrated slowly to the beat while drinking from a beer bottle.

  I found Gretchen mingling with a group of friends. She was dressed as an angel and standing next to a Grinch and the sexy leg lamp from A Christmas Story. I couldn’t say exactly what she was drinking, but from the way she was swaying, I’d say she’d been drinking quite a bit of it.

  “Bam!” Gretchen said, bringing her drink down fast and hard, spilling a little on the floor. “Nice and easy. Blow to the back of the head. Died instantly.”

  Chapter 6

  Was she talking about Bert? How does she know how he died?

  I tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, Gretchen, I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute?”

  She turned her massive body slowly and frowned. “Aren’t you the lady I bought my Christmas tree from?”

  I nodded. “Yes. I was wondering if we could go somewhere real quick and talk abo—”

  “Why? My tree is fine.”

  I sighed and realized we were going to do this right here out in the open. “It’s about Bert Candace and what I overheard at the Christmas tree lot yesterday when you were both there.”

  That got her attention. She scowled at me and took another drink from her glass. “I don’t have anything to say to you. I already spoke with the Sheriff. I don’t know nothing about that lowlife’s murder.” She smiled knowingly at her small group of friends. “Except to say it couldn’t have happened to a nicer guy.”

  The group broke out in loud guffaws.

  “Darn right,” Sexy Leg Lamp said. “Got exactly what he deserved.”

  “Okaaay,” I said, drawing the word out. I was getting a little scared and wasn’t sure what my next move should be. Maybe I should have listened to Jake when he said not to get involved with the murder investigation.

  Anti-Angel Gretchen, who bench pressed buildings for fun, grabbed me forcefully by my arm and hauled me over to a nearby vacant spot. She leaned down and shoved her face a mere inch from mine. “Whaddya want, lady? I’m trying to have a good time here.”

  “Um, I was just wondering about your fight with Bert. See, I overheard you threaten him, and I thought—”

  “And you thought what? That maybe I killed him?” She lifted an eyebrow and smirked. “What if I did? Are you gonna run and tattle on me?”

  “Well…yeah.”

  Gretchen took a step closer, forcing me to retreat until my back hit the wall. “Then I’ll tell you the same thing I told that jerk Bert…you might want to think twice before you cross me.”

  “Gracie? Gracie? Where are you?”

  I heard Evie shouting for me, but I couldn’t see over Gretchen to get her attention. And Gretchen didn’t look like she was going to step back out of my personal space.

  “Over here!” I jumped up and down, waving my arms in the air.

  “Oh, thank goodness!” Evie said as she stumbled into Gretchen. “I think we need to go. I’m not feeling well.”

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  Gretchen scowled once more at me then marched back to her group of friends. I looked closely at Evie. “You’re pale. Are you okay?”

  Evie slowly shook her head. “Remember I told you I thought I was coming down with a cold? Well, I took some pretty powerful meds before I left the house. Probably I shouldn’t have had a couple nips on the spiked hot cider. I seem to be having a bad reaction.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What kind of bad reaction?”

  “Well, is there a reindeer playing poker at that card table over there?”

  I glanced over to where she was pointing and chuckled. “Actually, there is a reindeer playing poker at that card table.”

  Evie let out a long sigh and took another dainty sip from the flask. “Oh good. Then there probably really is a family of snowmen playing tag on the dance floor?”

  I looked out at the dance floor. “Um…no. There’s not.”

  “Are you sure? Because I see them.”

  I wrapped my arms around her. “We better get you home.”

  “Did you get a chance to talk to Gretchen?” Evie asked.

  I looked over at Gretchen. She was still with her group of ragtag friends, but she was no longer drinking and laughing. Instead, she was glaring at me and repeatedly punching a fist into her open palm.

  I whimpered. “We need to go…now!”

  We stumbled through the front door and sprinted over to the snowmobile. I grabbed the flask from Evie and took a quick swig. I needed a lot more than that to calm my racing heart, but it would have to do.

  I shoved a hallucinating Evie down onto the snowmobile. She immediately popped right back up and lifted her arm to wave behind me. “Bye Rudolph!”

  I surreptitiously glanced behind me. There was nothing there. “C’mon, I need to get you home.”

  I started the snowmobile and sped out of the parking lot at a whopping five miles per hour. Other than getting my friend high and making a mortal enemy out of Gretchen, had I really accomplished anything pertinent tonight? Had I gotten any closer to proving Gretchen was the killer? How had she known how Bert was killed? I knew I should be looking for a murder weapon, but I had no idea how to even start.

  I heard the short blast of a siren beside me, and I glanced over to see a Sheriff SUV with Jake in the driver’s seat. He rolled down the passenger-side window and shook his head at me. I’m not sure why, but I stood up and hunched over the windshield like I was going to make a run for it.

  “Go, go!” Evie screamed. “We can outrun him!”

  For a brief crazy second I actually thought about it. But then I came to my senses and remembered I was on a vehicle that averages nine miles per hour at top speeds. An elderly person in a walker could outrun us. I was about to flop back down on the seat when Evie leaned forward between my legs and pushed on the acceleration stick. The Polaris jerked in surprise, and in the blink of an eye we went from five miles per hour to ten miles per hour. I fell backward and landed on top of Evie. We were both screaming as the snowmobile turned and ran into the front passenger tire of the SUV.

  “What the heck do you think you’re doing?” Jake yelled as he jumped out of his vehicle. “You could have been killed!”

  Evie jumped down off the snowmobile and started running around in a circle gathering up snow. “Come back little snow babies. Momma will keep you safe.”

  “Is she drunk?” Jake asked, his face still red with anger.

  I sighed. “Not exactly. She may have accidentally
taken prescription medication with a shot or two of my spiked hot cider.”

  Jake pinched his nose with his fingers and shook his head. Suddenly Evie crumbled and fell into the snow, sobbing. “My snow babies are gone!” She picked up a handful of snow and watched in horror as it fell through her fingers. “I’ve killed my snow babies!”

  “Are you both okay?” Jake asked.

  “Yeah. We weren’t going fast enough to get hurt.” I peered over at his SUV. “I don’t think we did any damage to your vehicle either.”

  Jake looked down the road. “So where were you coming from?”

  I rolled my eyes at him as I helped Evie up off the ground. “You know where I just came from. I went to the costume party.”

  Jake crossed his arms over his chest. His Sheriff’s coat all but splitting in two. “Did you pester a certain guest at that party?”

  Yes.

  “No!”

  “You didn’t?” Evie said, totally clueless. “I thought I saw you talking to Gretchen.”

  Jake snorted. “Go on and get home before I arrest you.”

  Never knowing when to stop, I jammed my fists down on my hips. “Arrest me for what?”

  “Indecent exposure. You should have seen the view I had when you stood up and the wind blew your skirt.”

  I immediately tugged down on my short skirt. I had on striped red and white tights, but that didn’t make me feel any better.

  “Public intoxication,” Jake continued.

  “I’m not intoxicated,” I argued. “I had a couple nips from the flask, but that’s it.”

  Jake’s arms fell down to his sides. “Do you really want to push me?”

  I swallowed. “No.”

  He reached out as if to touch me.

  I totally panicked.

  “How did Bert die?” I blurted out.

  Jake stopped mid-reach. “What?”

  “How did Bert die?”

  I sort of knew, but I was hoping Jake would confirm it for me.

  “Not that it’s been leaked yet,” Jake said, “but blunt force trauma to the back of the head. Repeatedly.”

  I sucked in a breath. “And no one is supposed to know?”

  Jake shrugged. “No. But you know how small towns are. Why do you ask?”

  “No reason,” I lied.

  And moved Gretchen Smith up to the number one suspect on my list. Now I just had to figure out how to find the object she used.

  Chapter 7

  “How ya feeling this morning?” I asked as Evie staggered over to stand beside Santa and me.

  Evie groaned. “I can’t believe the reaction I had to that medication.”

  I chuckled. “And the few swigs of the spiked hot cider didn’t help either.”

  “On a positive note,” Evie continued, “I feel better knowing I didn’t really kill any snow babies.”

  “You girls,” Nic said shaking his head and chuckling. “You’ve always been fun to watch grow up.”

  Nic turned and jingle-jangled over to his Santa chair. Miss Claws leaped into his arms when he sat down.

  “Sometimes I get strange vibes when I’m around Nic,” Evie said.

  I rolled my eyes. “So you’ve already said. He’s a nice guy! A little strange maybe…but sweet.”

  “I don’t mean creepy vibes,” Evie hastily said. “I mean like he can look deep into my soul and see things best left unseen.”

  I lifted one corner of my mouth. “That’s exactly how I think of him, too.”

  “Zane’s swinging the gate open,” Evie said. “Let’s get ready to sell. Only two days left until Christmas. Gonna be a mad rush until then.”

  And Evie couldn’t have been any more accurate in her prediction. I didn’t get a chance to stop and rest until two o’clock. It was an unseasonably warm Saturday afternoon, and the freshly fallen snow had melted fairly quickly.

  I decided to take my break down by the tree line and see how the police tape was holding up. Luckily our business hadn’t slowed down any because of the yellow crime scene tape. In fact, if I were being honest, I’d say the murder had picked up our business. People were coming out in droves to gossip about the murder, and while they were here, they were shopping.

  Meow!

  I blinked down in surprise. “Hey, Miss Claws. You wanna keep me company while I go check things out?”

  The normally sassy red and white cat didn’t say anything, just pranced next to me, paws barely hitting the wet snow, tail swishing back and forth.

  As I rounded the corner at the end of the lane, I noticed a strip of yellow tape had worked itself loose and was flapping gently in the wind.

  “Hey, sis, what’re you doing down here?”

  I screamed and jumped five feet in the air. Okay…slight exaggeration. “Zane Michael Kellerman! You scared the crap out of me! What are you doing down here?”

  He grinned. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you. I just helped the Micklesons cut down a tree in the next lane and thought I’d come see what you were up to. Are you supposed to be down here?”

  I rolled my eyes at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course I can be down here. Miss Claws said it was okay. Right, kitty?”

  Instead of answering, the cat was circling a spot a few feet from where Bert’s body had been dumped. Miss Claws stopped, hunkered down, wiggled her butt, then swiped her paw along the soggy ground. Something shiny shot out before landing silently in a patch of snow.

  “What was that?” I asked.

  “Looks like Miss Claws found something,” Zane said.

  As if understanding what Zane had said, Miss Claws flicked her tiny head over her body and twitched her whiskers.

  Zane and I crept over to where the mystery item had flown and peered down into the snow. I reached a gloved hand out and gently picked up a decorative button.

  “Whoa,” Zane said. “Looks like Miss Claws just found a clue.”

  “How did it get over here?” I asked.

  Zane glanced over to the blocked-off section then back down where the button had been. “If I had to guess, I’d say the killer parked at the end of the tree line, hauled Bert out of the car, and dragged him over here.” Zane frowned and shook his head. “But that would mean that the killer dragged him under the arms and walked backward. That might be when the button loosened…or perhaps it was already loose and that motion was enough to pop it off before the body was dumped.”

  I lifted an eyebrow at him. “That’s quite a picture you just painted. Good thing I know you aren’t the killer.”

  Zane snorted.

  “I guess this means the killer was a man, right?” I asked. “A woman couldn’t drag a big guy like Bert, could she?”

  “Actually, I’d say the opposite is true. Don’t accuse me of being sexist, but I think the killer may be a woman for that very reason.”

  I frowned. “What reason?”

  “Most trained professionals…firemen, military…we’re trained to carry someone like this.”

  Out of nowhere Zane reached over and grabbed my wrist then leaned down and swept his arm through one of my legs and dropped me over his back and lifted me up with his own legs. I let out a little scream of surprise. He lowered me back down.

  “Even if the body was shoved out of the car and was lying on the ground, a trained person would know how to carry from that position.” He chuckled. “Not that I can see the killer doing a ranger roll, but there are other ways.”

  “What’s a ranger roll?”

  Zane grinned wickedly. “You would be on the ground, immobile, and I’d start at your legs, roll over your body, grab you, and as I finish my roll, you’d be on my shoulders.”

  “What! I’ve never heard of such a thing!”

  Zane laughed. “Like I said, I can’t see that happening here. So an easier way for the killer to lift a body off the ground would be to get behind the body, lift it up by the arms—like the killer obviously did here—but instead of continuing to drag the body where you want to go, you stand th
e body the rest of the way up and flip it over the shoulder like I did you.”

  I growled in frustration. “But how does that prove a woman is the killer?”

  “Well, I knew how to lift and carry a body…did you?”

  I paused. “No, I didn’t. But a man who has never been trained may not know it, either.”

  Zane nodded. “That’s true.”

  If I find out Merle was military trained, who does that leave as suspects…Gretchen and Danica?

  “Let’s say the killer is a woman,” I said. “Are we looking for a large woman?”

  Zane shook his head. “Actually, I’ve personally seen petite women carry men out of combat. It’s not about upper body strength at all.”

  Looks like Danica goes back on the suspect list.

  “Do you want me to take the button to Jake?” Zane asked.

  I looked down at the button I still held in my hand. I needed to keep ahold of it a little while longer while I tried to find the coat it belonged to.

  “No,” I said. “I’m going into town for deliveries in a little while. I’ll call Jake and see if I can meet up with him and give it to him.”

  Zane stared intently at me. “And you promise to hand it over?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Of course. It’s not like I want to keep it.”

  Not forever anyway.

  Chapter 8

  “Whaddya want?” Merle Hartford growled when he saw me standing on his porch a few hours later. “I got nothing to say to you.”

  “Hello, Mr. Hartford. I just wanted to bring you a few items to say sorry for your shopping experience the other day.”

  Still eyeing me suspiciously, Merle opened the screen door but didn’t let me inside.

  “Thanks,” he grumbled as he snatched the plate of gingerbread cookies out of my hand.

  “Wait!” I bent down and lifted up a small basket. Luckily I still had sugar cookies and brownies left over from the other night. “I have more.”

 

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