Suddenly something clicked and I felt it all fitting together—the pieces falling into place and forming a clear picture. In that same lucid moment I saw James Woodley walking up the street, cocking his head at the strangeness of the scene in front of him.
I was glad to see Janet Tikkermann and Art Granger among the people drawn by the commotion.
Woodley smiled at Digby. “Making an arrest, Officer Hayes?”
At the sight of a fellow officer Digby hooked his thumbs in his leather holster belt and puffed out his belly. I think he was trying to stick his chest out, but too many years of fast food got in the way. “Billy is the Santa Hood. He stole the Christmas presents and decorations and gave them away.”
“Did he now?” Woodley asked. He glanced at me. “If that’s true I’m afraid I lost a bet.”
“No, Billy isn't the thief,” I blurted out. Everyone stopped and stared at me. I think they were expecting me to confess to the crimes. “Billy is telling the truth. He found all those the things, like he said.”
Digby’s face told me he was caught between being relieved and crestfallen. “He knew that stuff was stolen.”
I nodded. “Yes. He stretched the point a bit by not returning them when he knew they were stolen, but he got caught up in the chance to do some good for people who don’t have a decent Christmas. At most he was receiving stolen merchandise.”
“Is that you trying to help me?” Billy asked.
“It’s true Billy. Right now we need to lay everything out plainly so everyone can relax and have a nice Christmas.”
Digby looked flustered. “So you are trying to tell me that someone stole the trees and presents and threw them away, and trashed the decorations?”
“Yes. I am.”
Digby looked to Woodley for support and James shrugged. “She doesn’t have a habit of making pronouncements she can’t prove, Officer Hayes. I’d at least look into her… evidence.”
“Evidence? What sort of evidence.”
“Some that you found yourself,” I said. “You are the one who worked out that whoever robbed my salon dumped everything in the dumpster.”
“But it was gone.”
“And you are right that Billy took those things. He removed everything before he reported the burglary. He wasn’t going to risk us getting it out and putting it back, or worse, having it hauled away to the dump. Isn’t that right, Billy?”
“Yes.”
“That must’ve seemed like a windfall.”
Billy smiled weakly. “The people who got the things were so happy. It wasn’t much, and the things were already taken… I know that’s not right, but I couldn’t resist.”
“They were better off without that junk, but at least it wasn’t totally wasted,” Art Granger said.
“So why did someone steal the stuff and then throw it away?” Digby demanded. “That’s a bit much to swallow, that they’d risk getting caught and then just trash what they took.”
I smiled at Woodley, who returned my grin. “You’re on your own,” he said.
Art Granger chuckled. “Digby's right. Usually people steal things to have them, or sell them, right? It ain’t worth the risk otherwise.”
“Exactly!” Digby said.
Digby’s satisfied look told me he couldn’t see other options. So it was up to me to give him one. “Sometimes people steal things just so other people won’t have them. They aren’t trying to enrich themselves, just either destroy something they hate or to take things away from someone else. Or a lot of someone elses, in this case.”
“The Grinch,” someone said.
“Scrooge,” someone else said.
“Who would do that?” Digby asked. “Art’s right. They took a risk.”
I took a breath. “First, I’m going to tell you that in addition to the evidence you saw of the tree in our dumpster, I can lead you to the place where Billy found the rest of the things.”
Woodley nodded. “That's right. I’ve checked it out, Officer Hayes, and it was definitely a Christmas dump.”
“Thank you,” I said. “The culprit was putting them in a place where they’d be hard to find. But if you are a small child prowling about looking for exactly such strange things it's a natural. Billy found that spot and was going back there to check it on a regular basis. Right Billy?”
“Yes ma'am.”
“So that means someone else was doing the stealing. Billy wouldn't steal the things, throw them in the alley and come back for them when he could just haul them off in the first place. So who was it?”
“That's the question,” Digby said.
“Maybe someone like Art Granger hates the sight of foolishness. He might have been willing to tear things down and throw it all away just to make his point that these things were a foolish waste of money. You know everyone calls you Scrooge, don’t you Art? Your tightfisted ways earned you that. People don’t see you as charitable at all.”
“A fat lot I care what they call me.”
“Now I could imagine you getting frustrated enough to try and show everyone they are wrong and you wouldn’t mind in the least if someone like Billy took them and gave them to the poor. For you that makes it a win win situation. You get to make your point and yet the things aren’t wasted.”
“I make my point plain enough and I don’t care that much about teaching anyone anything,” Art said. “I believe in economy all right, but I wouldn’t steal. Even if it was helpful, getting caught would mean posting bail.”
“Among other inconveniences,” Woodley said.
I looked at Digby. “Unfortunately, Art’s probably telling the truth. Throwing the things he stole away might offer a lesson if he did it once or twice, but to keep on like the thief did wouldn’t make sense, and Art Granger isn’t stupid.”
“Now you are talking sense,” Art said.
“Now let's talk about Janet Tikkermann.”
“What?” she said, looking exasperated.
“You know they call you the Grinch?”
She looked puzzled. “I don't understand. But then those stupid children’s books have lots of idiotic things in them.”
“But in this case, they reflect your dislike of Christmas.”
Her face was growing flush. “It’s such a horrid time! Everyone pretending they like each other and that things are all wonderful.”
“Whatever your problem with the season, your dislike has built up in you. This year, with no one listening to your complaints, it became intolerable.”
“That’s hardly stealing,” she said. Her face was contorted. “Things weren't right, that isn't how things are supposed to be.” She was looking around her, seeming frantic.
“The Friday before all this started you warned me about putting up decorations in the salon, but I didn’t listen, so you decided to teach me a lesson. You threw everything in the dumpster. You just didn’t count on Billy rescuing everything. When you found out he was recycling the tree and presents, you struck again, but Billy was watching now, prowling. So you started using the alley, but Nellie’s boys found out and told Billy, so that wasn’t working either. When the city officials turned down your request to take down the decorations, you took those matters into your own hands too. You were determined to steal Christmas from Knockemstiff, no matter what it took. But the harder you tried the more Billy had to spread around.”
“It isn’t fair!” she screamed. “He was undoing everything I was working for.”
A rather dazed Digby Hayes had gone over to Janet Tikkermann and took her by the arm. “We need to go talk to the Chief, Miz Tikkermann,” he said, not unkindly.
“I was just keeping things from being wrong.” Suddenly she looked at Dolores Pettigrew who had a startled expression. “Tell them Dolores. Explain to them that they aren't supposed to put the decorations up. That's not right.”
“Oh Janet, what do you mean?”
“Dolores, you know Harvey puts up the decorations. Every year, he puts them up early and they look so pre
tty. It isn't right for all these things to be going up when Harvey hasn't put ours up yet.”
Suddenly Dolores ran over to Janet and wrapped her arms around the woman. “Janet! I do understand. Harvey can't put them up anymore dear.” She touched Janet's face with a surprising tenderness. “Listen dear, all these other decorations... everyone is putting them up for Harvey, because he can't do it.”
“Really?”
“Absolutely. Harvey loved Christmas decorations and we all know that. We just forgot to tell you that we were doing it for Harvey. No wonder you misunderstood.”
As Janet broke down, sobbing on Dolores' shoulder, Digby was shaking his head. “I'm going to have to arrest her, Dolores.” He held out a pair of handcuffs.
She glared at Digby. “Digby Hayes, you officious man, that is not how things work in Knockemstiff. We help each other.”
“It seems she needs a medical evaluation, Officer Hayes,” Woodley said softly. “Clearly she's not a criminal but dealing with some sort of an emotional problem.”
“And the Lord knows that any kind of evaluation can wait until after Christmas,” Dolores said. “Janet needs to be with friends right now. You can make arrangement to have her checked out and let me know, because she will be spending Christmas with me.”
“She will?” Digby said.
“Billy Jasper,” Dolores called.
“Yes ma'am?”
“I need to walk Janet to her house and get some things for her. You get over to my house and take down the tree and every Christmas decoration you can see. Put the presents in the hall closet and throw the rest in the my pickup. The keys are hanging by the door. Take them away and give everything to someone who needs them.”
“Yes ma'am.”
“And the presents that came from Ellen's place, put those in Digby's car so he can return them where they belong.” She turned back to Digby. “Right now Janet needs friends, not jail or being stuck at the medical center in Paudy. If you have any problem with the way good neighbors deal with these things in Knockemstiff you can come to my house and arrest me.”
As she led Janet Tikkermann away, Digby looked at me. “I have no intention of pressing charges Officer Hayes. I just wanted to solve the mystery.
Digby watched blankly as Billy put the presents he'd been carrying in the back seat of the patrol car.
Woodley stepped up to Billy and took him by the arm. “Billy, no one is going to charge you with anything, but I hope you understand you went about things wrong.”
“How can I help people?”
Woodley sighed. “Next year, during November, you call me and I’ll put you in touch with a charity, a licensed organization that is set up to help the poor enjoy Christmas. They can do more than you can do and even do it legally.”
“Okay!” he said. “I better get those decorations now.” And off he went.
“Digby, who is Harvey?” I asked. “And what was going on here. Dolores has always hated Janet Tikkermann.”
He grinned. “Not always. When they were young they were best friends. Back then Harvey Tikkermann was the school jock, the big man in town. They both fell for him. When he married Janet, Dolores was crushed. Rather than blame Harvey for being stupid, she turned her anger on Janet. They started feuding about everything. Harvey became the local banker—the guy was set in his ways, so he had rules about things. He made putting up the Christmas decorations an art form. No one was allowed to touch their decorations and he spent a lot of time and money on their. He was always going on about hating trashy displays.”
“I remember that,” I said. “Everyone went by their house to see the displays. I'd forgotten whose house it was.”
“Harvey died a few years ago. Not at Christmas. He had a stroke playing golf over in Baton Rouge. Janet seemed untouched by it. She got upset at people offering condolences. She told them they were making a fuss out of something that couldn't be helped. I guess she didn't want anyone to know she was hurting so bad.”
“So the stress builds up making her a little crazy,” Woodley said.
“And it comes out as hating other people doing Harvey's job, taking his place.”
“I think that maybe Dolores has the right idea,” I said. “She needs a friend now and it sure won't hurt Dolores any to be that friend.”
Digby looked confused. “The protocol is...”
“I can't imagine that Janet Tikkermann is a threat to public safety,” Woodley said. “And a good police officer needs to exercise discretion.”
“I suppose.”
I took Digby's arm. “Besides, Officer Hayes, how do you intend to pry her away from Dolores Pettigrew without a SWAT team?”
“I guess we have to be flexible with small town law enforcement,” he sighed. “I'll contact the psychiatric people in Paudy and make arrangements to take her over for an evaluation after the holidays. I suppose I'll have to take Dolores along too.”
“Good plan, Officer Hayes. And now you can make points with Ellen by returning those presents.”
As Digby drove off, Woodley came over. “You are quite the detective,” he said.
I poked him with my elbow. “It sure took you long enough to decide that.”
“I had to be sure.” He slipped an arm around my waist.
Such drama for our little town.
With the arrest made, and the excitement over, the crowd thinned. Nellie smiled. “That was interesting. And now you need to go home and get a little rest.”
I nodded my thanks. I was spent and Nellie always sees me accurately, even when I don’t want her to.
Woodley held out an arm. “Can I walk you ladies home?”
“Yes!” Sarah said.
I smiled at him. “That would be delightful.”
As we walked toward home we went past Dolores Pettigrew and Janet Tikkermann. They'd stopped to look up at the sky, two old friends arm in arm. Dolores sighed then turned and smiled at me. “Oh Savannah, I really do believe it’s going to snow. I saw it just like this once in Michigan and I am so sure it will snow. Don't you think that would be wonderful, Janet?”
“White Christmas... Harvey wanted one so badly.”
Who was I to argue with such conviction? “Maybe it will, Dolores. Strange things are afoot in Knockemstiff these days.”
“Again,” Woodley said softly so no one else would hear.
I squeezed his arm. “Again.” Finnegan barked with pleasure and ran ahead, with Sarah behind him.
“Hey, we got our solution to the crime before Christmas,” he said.
“I’ll tell Betina to bring the answers to the party and we can settle up.”
“Great.”
Suddenly, watching Sarah, I felt an unease in the pit of my stomach.
“What’s the matter?” Woodley asked.
“I was wondering how Finn would react if Sarah left us.”
Woodley untangled his arm from mine, slipped his around my waist and pulled me close. “I was wondering the same about you. How you would react?”
I leaned my head against him, appreciating his strength and obvious concern, but I didn’t answer. I didn’t have an answer to give. He bent down and kissed my head. “Will you look at that sky? It’s so gray. Maybe we’ll get a white Christmas after all.”
I watched Sarah running ahead with Finn. I wanted the moment to go on forever. Sarah seemed so right living with me. She was beginning to relationships with other kids and I was sharing things with other moms. Under the circumstances I found her success in adapting somewhat bittersweet. If her parents uprooted her again the things that were making her life good would make change harder.
But she was resourceful and bright, and the truth was that if her parents took her away I would be the one who had the most trouble adjusting.
Sarah would be fine without me. The thought hurt.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Sunday, December 25th: Christmas Day
I had tried to brace myself for what promised to be the strangest Christmas dinner e
ver—for me, anyway. It was the first time I’d shared Christmas with a seven year old girl. For the first time since my marriage broke up I had a man who seemed to like me sharing the holidays with me too.
They were both delightful company, but even so it was taxing. I found myself struggling not to ignore either of them. It was exciting and nerve wracking. I wanted Sarah’s Christmas and birthday to be the best she ever had and, to be honest, I wanted James Woodley to enjoy himself enough that he’d want to spend more time with me and Sarah—assuming Sarah and I stayed together.
And that was the big stress—the uncertainty. This beautiful Christmas could be the prequel to disaster. Bea and Lester were coming to Christmas dinner with us. They would arrive at noon, which would give us some time to talk. Talk. The word made me shudder. Then the others would arrive—the ones coming to celebrate the birthday. I had no idea if that timing was good or bad, but it was all we had.
Bea had sounded all excited and happy, but that could mean anything. They might have found work in New Orleans and now were coming to take Sarah to her new home. They could... well, they could have almost anything in mind.
Sarah hadn’t let me in on her thoughts on the matter. She had to be as uncertain about her future as anyone could be, but she wasn’t letting on. I had to work not to show my feelings. I couldn’t let Sarah think for a moment that I didn’t want her to be happy with her parents. Family is a big thing, when it works. If they were taking her away from me, I wanted her to think I was all for it.
With so many guests we were preparing a ton of food. I expected we’d set it out on the dining table. I had Woodley help me move a cabinet out of the dining room and into the garage so that there was enough room for someone to walk past each end of the table with the extension leaves in it. The dining room was tiny, but then normally it wasn’t used. We’d all scramble for chairs.
Sarah eagerly jumped into helping prepare the food. She was happily making suggestions and stirring batter and fetching things. We were baking a huge ham, and making potatoes, yams, green beans, and freshly made bread. When ham came out of the oven I’d put in pies for dessert. We didn’t need nearly that much food, but baking was easier on me than thinking and Sarah seemed happy to have tasks to focus on. We were disgustingly domestic for a couple of independent women.
Holiday Hooligans: Cozy Mystery (The Teasen & Pleasen Hair Salon Cozy Mystery Series Book 3) Page 15