by Gayle Trent
“I don’t either,” he said. “This is to avoid suspicion while we’re waiting.”
“Oh, then yes,” I said. “By all means, light me up.”
He chuckled. “You don’t have to actually smoke it. Just pretend.”
“I can do that.” I grinned. “I pretended to like that job for the past three weeks.”
“Well, you ain’t gonna have to worry about that job for a good while yet,” he said.
“Besides money, what’s in my box?” I asked.
“Game systems…games…a couple collectible dolls, I reckon. We’ll sell them and split the money, same as the jewelry.”
“Oh.” I nodded. “Makes sense.”
“Yeah. I’m just sorry we forgot to mention it to you before and surprised you with such a heavy box. See, when we had a fourth man for the job it wasn’t as big a deal,” he said.
“A fourth man?” I asked. “What happened to him? Did he bail out?”
Bo handed me a cigarette and lit it. “He did. And Harold took care of him.”
“Wait,” I said, holding my cigarette between two fingers like I knew what I was doing. “It wasn’t that other Santa Claus, was it?”
“It was,” Bo said.
“And Harold killed him?” I asked.
“Shhh. Here they come.”
I looked, and sure enough, Glen and Harold were headed toward us. Glen had a large box similar to the one I’d been given. Harold had a couple shopping bags. They immediately put their burdens into Bo’s cart.
“I’ve been thinking,” Harold said. “We can’t safely divide our take here at the mall. Let’s meet at your house, Myrtle.”
“All right,” I said.
“Can we do it tonight? Or do you have family coming over?” he asked.
“I have family coming over at eight-thirty, so we’ll have to hurry,” I said. “I’ll need to get there first and put my dog out into the backyard.”
“Then get a move on,” he said.
I looked at Glen, who I’d always taken to be the boss, and he nodded.
“Okay. I’ll see you there as quickly as possible,” I said.
When I got into my car and pulled out of the mall parking lot, I picked up my phone. “Did you hear all that?”
“We heard it,” Coop said. “You go on to the house, get the men into the kitchen, and we’ll take it from there.”
“All right,” I said.
“Don’t be scared,” he said gently. “I’ll be right there.”
The man had read my mind.
Chapter Fifteen
As soon as I got home, I kissed Matlock on the head and then let him out into the backyard. I really was scared. Harold had looked like he’d wanted to chew me up and spit me out when he’d said he wanted to meet at my house. That man was evil. I’d just known that he was the very bird who’d killed Jackson Barnhard, and Bo had confirmed it. Now, I had to worry that Harold was gonna try to kill me! I determined right then and there not to eat or drink anything…even if it was my own stuff. Who knows if that Harold didn’t know some sleight of hand tricks or something?
The doorbell rang. I was afraid to go open the door because I was afraid Harold might shoot me right off the bat. So I hollered, “Come in!” and then I high-tailed it to the kitchen so Coop and the townies could see what was going on.
“I’m in the kitchen!” I yelled toward the living room. “Come on in here to the table.”
I turned around, and here came Glen, Bo, Harold, and—my jaw dropped—Nancy…formerly known as Pinchy!
“Nancy?” I asked.
She gave me a tight, humorless smile. “I’m Harold’s wife.”
“You’re the one who took care of the security cameras,” I said.
“That was me,” she said. “And I paid off the four managers. Now, let’s get this stuff divided so we can go.”
Harold, Bo, and Glen put the boxes they’d been carrying on my kitchen table. Nancy had the shopping bags Harold had earlier, and she sat those on the floor.
“Do you all need anything to cut the tape on the boxes with?” I asked, wishing like the dickens that Coop and the townies would come on. Didn’t they have enough evidence now?
“Nope,” said Harold. “We have knives.” He took a switchblade knife from the front pocket of his pants, pressed the button to reveal the blade, and then slit the tape on the box from Toy Town.
I moved closer so I could peer inside the box. There was a manila envelope that I guessed contained the money, and then, like Bo had said, there were a few game systems and games. There weren’t any dolls, though. I guessed they wouldn’t fit.
“You need to take a step back,” Harold told me. “We’ll be doing the dividing.”
“Don’t bully her, Harold,” said Bo. “She did her part.”
“Yeah,” said Glen. “Leave her alone.”
Harold scratched the side of his face. “You two really trust this old broad? You think she won’t end up telling somebody or spending too much at once and giving herself away?”
“I promise I won’t,” I said.
Harold looked at Nancy. “What do you think?”
She shrugged. “You can’t poison her. We did that already.”
I couldn’t stop myself. “We? Nancy, you helped Harold kill Jackson Barnard?”
“So what? He became a liability,” she said. “Harold thinks you’re one too.”
I was getting ready to try to assure her that I was not a liability when the town police—followed by Cooper—burst through the living room door.
“Everybody freeze with your hands on your heads! This is the police!”
I put my hands on my head. Harold did not. As the police rushed in, he hurried around my side of the table and grabbed me, placing that stupid switchblade to my throat.
“Come any closer, and I’ll kill her,” Harold said.
“Drop the knife right now, or the sniper who has his scope trained on your forehead will drop you where you stand,” said Chief Stone.
“She’ll be dead before I hit the floor,” Harold said.
I started to elbow him in the stomach, but I thought better of it. Jaclyn Smith or one of them more newfangled Charlie’s Angels like Lucy Liu I was not. I wasn’t even Myrtle Crumb at thirty-five. I could’ve probably wrestled that knife away from him at thirty-five…probably even forty. I was afraid to try it now.
“Harold, put the knife down,” Nancy said. “Please.”
He turned to look at her.
“Please,” she repeated. “I don’t want you to die.”
He pitched the knife onto the kitchen table and then put his hands on his head.
And just like that, it was over. They came in and cuffed everybody—including me—and hauled them outside to the police cars. I didn’t get hauled outside. Coop said he was going to take me to the hospital first, so as far as the other heisters knew, I got arrested just like they did.
I still felt sorry for Bo. I met his eyes once before the officer led him out the front door. He looked scared…and young…and sorry. I didn’t look at Glen, Pinchy/Nancy, or Harold.
“You think maybe Bo could get off with probation or something?” I asked Cooper. “He’s got a good heart. I think he maybe just don’t know any better.”
He kissed my forehead. “Stone will see that he gets a fair shake. They all will. And you’ll likely get a commendation.”
“I don’t need a commendation,” I said. “But right now I could sure use a few Christmas cookies and some coffee.”
“I’ll make the coffee if you’ll warm the cookies,” he said.
It sounded like a plan to me.
--END--
Want to learn more about the mouth-watering recipes in this book? Visit Gayle Trent’s website for more!
About the Author:
Gayle Trent is the author of two popular cozy mystery series--the Daphne Martin Cake Deorating Series published by Simon & Schuster’s Gallery imprint under her own name; and the Embroidery Mys
tery Series written for NAL/Penguin’s Obsidian imprint under the pseudonym Amanda Lee. Please visit Gayle’s website at http://www.gayletrent.com to find out more about her books, get receipes, print out free cross-stitch patterns, and sign up for her newsletter.
Other Books by this Author:
Writing as Gayle Trent:
Myrtle Crumb Novella Series:
Between A Clutch and A Hard Place
When Good Bras Go Bad
Daphne Martin Cake Decorating Series:
Murder Takes the Cake
Dead Pan
Killer Sweet Tooth
Battered to Death
Writing as Amanda Lee:
The Quick and The Thread
Stitch Me Deadly
Thread Reckoning
The Long Stitch Goodnight
Thread on Arrival
Cross Stitch Before Dying
Connect with Gayle Trent/Amanda Lee Online:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/GayleTrentandAmandaLee
Twitter: https://twitter.com/GayleTrent
Blog: http://www.gayletrent.com/blog/
Website: http://www.gayletrent.com