The Mistletoe Murders

by A. C. Mason

  “I need to order flowers for a…funeral,” she told the clerk, barely getting the word out.

  The clerk, a short stocky woman with gray hair, looked at her sympathetically. “For on top of the casket?”

  “That’s right. I’m not sure what to choose. They’re for my sister’s funeral.”

  The woman’s expression clouded. “My condolences for your loss.” She handed Jamie a brochure to check out the options.

  Jamie surveyed the assortment of flowers and floral arrangements and spotted one she thought Joanna would like. “This one.” She pointed to her selection. “I want white roses and red carnations with baby’s breath.”

  “A lovely choice. Now when and where are the services?”

  “They’re scheduled for ten Monday morning at Oak Garden Funeral Home.” At least she hoped everything was set. The arrangements had been made without consulting Father Greg to see if he could conduct the services or even if Jon would be able to get here in time. I’ll handle any problems when or if they arise.

  At the moment she needed a good stiff drink, but it was much too early in the day. Besides that, alcohol never solved anything.

  Making the funeral arrangements had simply taken all the steam out of her. So here she sat at a table in the rear of The Coffee Mug drinking a cup of espresso, hoping the jolt of caffeine would bring her back to life.

  Whirring from the barista’s machine and the aroma of coffee mixed with the muted laughter and conversation of a few patrons seated in the establishment.

  Jamie looked up when the bell on the coffee shop door jangled. What were the chances of meeting up with Detective Bourque for three straight days? He made a brief survey of the room and walked straight up to the counter to place an order.

  Hopefully he hadn’t noticed her seated all the way in the back. She didn’t feel like being interrogated. His sudden change of demeanor during their meeting yesterday had made her wary of sharing his company. She averted her eyes and concentrated on the half full cup of coffee.

  Her hopes of avoiding him diminished quickly.

  “Mind if I join you?”

  She looked up to meet the detective’s intense gaze. “I wouldn’t be very good company at the moment. I just finished making the funeral arrangements for Joanna.”

  “By yourself?”

  Did he mean am I here by myself or making funeral arrangements?

  He must have noticed her confusion. “I meant making the funeral arrangements.”

  “There was no one else available to go with me.”

  He kept standing next to the table. Obviously he didn’t intend to leave.

  With a motion of her hand, she invited him to be seated. He set his coffee cup on the table and pulled out a chair.

  He narrowed his gaze to her face. “So Adrien Blanchard didn’t accompany you to assist in the arrangements for services for his fiancée?”

  Jamie shrugged. “He couldn’t get away from the office, so he said.”

  “Sounds like you have a problem with his excuse.”

  “Not necessarily. Some people can’t deal with funerals. Or maybe he felt guilty.”

  His expression remained neutral. “Why would he feel guilty?”

  She realized her mistake. He must be looking for an excuse to pin Joanna’s murder on Adrien. “Because he didn’t go out searching for her.”

  Bourque leaned back in his chair. Trying to look nonchalant, she supposed.

  “Why do you think he didn’t go out to look for her after failing to get in touch with her all evening?”

  Her composure deserted her. “Detective, one reason I hesitated to invite you to join me is because I didn’t want to be interrogated.” She pushed her chair back and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I have more important tasks to deal with. If you suspect Adrien for Joanna’s murder, you’re looking in the wrong place.”

  Grabbing her purse, she strode toward the door, feeling his piercing gaze following her all the way out of the coffee shop.

  She felt hypocritical for defending Adrien. Hadn’t she entertained thoughts about the possibility of his culpability in her sister’s murder? But those ideas were too painful to consider seriously.

  ~ * ~

  Caleb caught up with her in the parking lot. He’d messed up back there in the coffee shop with his insensitive questions. The poor woman had lost someone with whom she had an extremely close relationship. He was trying too hard to make her dislike him. Better to fight his attraction to her, he had thought. It wasn’t working.

  “What do you want from me?” She choked back a sob.

  “I want to apologize. When I asked to join you, I had no intention of grilling you.”

  She folded her arms. “What was your intention?”

  “I thought maybe we could have a nice conversation about subjects not connected to this investigation.” He exhaled. “Unfortunately that didn’t happen.”

  She averted her eyes for a moment. “What could you and I have talked about except the murders?”

  He kept his gaze on her face and offered her his best smile. “Movies. Music. What do you like to eat? Where do you like to eat?”

  She actually smiled back. “That would have been a pleasant change. I haven’t discussed movies, music, or food in what seems like forever.”

  “In that case, Jamie, the next time we happen to meet up unexpectedly, we’ll talk about all those things.”

  “If you’re going to address me by my first name, you need to tell me yours.”

  “Caleb,” he said.

  She grinned. “I was beginning to think your first name was Detective.”

  “Sometimes I do too.”

  ~ * ~

  He watched from a safe distance across the street in his car, getting more and more agitated. She and Bourque were getting a little too chummy. She even appears to be flirting with him. Typical. She’s been exposed to prostitutes for way too long.

  Only one more victim remained. Her. Then Magdalen House would be closed down. Every freakin’ wide spot in the road had its own bunch of sleazy women just like his mother. He intended to kill as many of them as he could. He knew he wouldn’t be able to completely eradicate the oldest profession in the world, but he sure as hell intended to do his part.

  Something needed to be done about the situation with those two. If Bourque gets too close, I could lose access to her. The idea scared the hell out of him. She, like Joanna, needed to be stopped from facilitating women like those who come to Magdalen House.

  I might have to move quicker than originally planned, or else get rid of another one of those women just to keep the cops guessing.

  Twenty

  “Jamie!”

  Adrien’s sudden appearance in the parking lot seemed odd to her. He appeared frazzled as he exited his car. She exchanged a questioning glance with Caleb.

  He shrugged and greeted Adrien. “Mr. Blanchard.”

  Adrien shot a nasty look in Caleb’s direction, his only acknowledgment of the detective’s presence.

  “What are you doing here?” Jamie asked. “I thought you couldn’t get away.”

  “I finally was able to leave my office. I stopped by the funeral home hoping to catch you, but was told you’d already made all the arrangements.”

  She forced a smile. “You should have given me a call. I would have waited for you.”

  “I didn’t know until the last minute that I would be able to leave.” He slid a sidelong glance at Caleb. “Maybe we can go somewhere else so you can give me the details about the arrangements.”

  “Sure, follow me over to my office and we’ll talk there.” She looked at Caleb and smiled. “Next time we talk, we’ll make it about movies.”

  He returned her smile. “Sounds like a winner to me.” His expression sobered. “Be careful in the meantime.”

  “I will.” Feeling her spirits rise, she got into her car. Maybe Caleb Bourque isn’t such a by-the-book guy after all. She just wished he wouldn’t turn his official
persona on and off so abruptly.

  All the way to her office, Jamie wondered if Adrien intended to hassle her about her conversation with Caleb. She soon found out. Immediately upon walking into her office, he started in on her.

  “You seem to have gotten pretty cozy with Bourque. Michael was right when he said the cop had plans for you.”

  She waved off his complaint. “You’re being ridiculous.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Then what’s the deal with ‘movies’? I hope you aren’t planning on going out on a date with him.”

  “Why would I? Even if I did, it’s none of your business.”

  “He’s leading you on in order to get something on me. I’m telling you, he wants to pin Joanna’s murder on me.”

  The fury in his eyes scared her. She tried to keep her voice calm. “If you’re innocent, you have nothing to worry about.”

  He blew out a hard breath. “For a woman who deals with the dregs of society, you sure are naïve about how cops operate.”

  “Let’s drop the subject of Detective Bourque. Do you want to know what arrangements I’ve made for Joanna’s funeral or not?”

  He brushed his hand over his hair in a gesture that seemed to display frustration. “Of course.”

  “I chose a casket for her and provided the funeral director all the info necessary for her death certificate and to place an obituary in the newspaper. The service is set for Monday at ten at Oak Garden.”

  “What about flowers?”

  “I ordered a spray of roses and carnations to go on top of the casket.”

  “Okay, I’ll order flowers to be from me.”

  “Great. You can get an arrangement to put right next to her coffin. I bought the ones I ordered at Flowers Galore.”

  A look of disdain crossed his face. “I’ll just stop in at Williamson’s on my way home. I’ll speak to you later.”

  She imagined an elaborate floral arrangement that would dwarf the one she purchased or any sprays the average person sent. Naturally he would do business at the most expensive florist in town.

  Before he turned to leave, he warned again with a stern voice. “Bourque is out to get me and he’ll take advantage of you if necessary to get what he wants.”

  She watched him until he disappeared out the front door of Faith Chapel. I can’t imagine him killing Joanna. He’s guilty of something. But what?

  Twenty-one

  Jamie’s musings concerning Adrien were interrupted by a rap on the door of her office. She smiled at her visitor. “Father Greg, how are you?”

  “Oh, I’m fine, but I’m not sure how long Michael will be able to deal with a priest living at his house. I just got a call from him. He said he’ll be back home in the morning.”

  “That’s good he’s coming home.” She frowned. “But why do you think he doesn’t like having you as a roommate?”

  The priest chuckled. “Oh, just a guess on my part. He’s a young man and probably feels he can’t invite friends over with a priest living there.”

  Jamie laughed. “I doubt he minds at all. By the way, how’s the remodel coming on the house your parish bought to use for a rectory?”

  “Slow. Old homes require lots of work. New electrical wiring. New plumbing. Then there are rain delays.” He rubbed his chin with his fingers. “I suppose I should have taken Father Tom up on his offer to share the rectory over at St. Stephen’s, but that’s miles away from Oak Pointe. My idea was to save money on gas by staying with Michael. St. Anthony’s is a struggling parish, so money is tight.”

  “Money is tight everywhere even on good days.”

  “The look on your face when I walked up suggested you might not be having such a good day.” He continued to stand in the doorway.

  “You’re right. I made Joanna’s funeral arrangements earlier today. Adrien wasn’t able to join me so I made them on my own. I felt terribly alone. Joanna and I were so close.”

  “May I come in?”

  “I’m sorry. Of course,” she said with a wave of her hand. “Please have a seat.”

  He sat in a nearby chair. A quizzical look crossed his face. “I thought I heard Adrien’s voice in here a little earlier. He sounded angry. Did he not approve of the arrangements you made?”

  Jamie shook her head. “His anger didn’t have anything to do with Joanna’s funeral.” She toyed with a piece of paper on her desk. “He’s upset with me for talking to Caleb Bourque, the detective who is handling her murder case.”

  The priest frowned. “Why would he be upset about that? He should be happy the police are trying to solve her murder.”

  She debated telling him the reason Adrien didn’t want her fraternizing with Caleb. Oh, why not? “Detective Bourque and I weren’t discussing Joanna’s murder at the time Adrien saw us.”

  “Oh?”

  She frowned. “That sounded a bit risqué or inappropriate. He ran into me at The Coffee Mug and joined me at my table.”

  Father Greg laughed. “So far it sounds perfectly normal, so I’m certain there’s more to this story.”

  “The detective went back to his questions about Adrien. I had just made some difficult choices and I didn’t feel like being interrogated. I told him so and stormed out. He caught up with me in the parking lot and apologized. We got things smoothed over and were simply having a conversation.”

  “That must have been when Adrien showed up.”

  “Yes, unfortunately. He suggested we go elsewhere so I could brief him on the funeral arrangements. You know, like some place private.

  “That’s when you both came here.”

  “Right. Then he lit into me about getting too cozy with Detective Bourque.”

  “Why would he object to your casual conversation with the officer?”

  She wavered about discussing Adrien’s rationale, but decided to tell him. She’d gone this far. “I would appreciate your promise that this won’t go any further than this room.”

  “Yes, of course you can count on my discretion.”

  “He believes the police are targeting him for Joanna’s murder and Detective Bourque will take advantage of me in order to get evidence on him.”

  He raised his brows. “His accusations sound rather paranoid. Do you know of any reason why he would make such statements?”

  “Other than the fact he has no real alibi for the time of her murder, I have no idea. He obviously feels guilty about something.”

  Father Greg nodded. “Perhaps his guilt lies in the fact he didn’t go searching for her. You’ve probably come across a person or two who suffered from a form of survivor’s guilt. Or maybe the subject arose in your college classes.”

  “I know a person is supposed to be innocent until proven guilty, but I’m beginning to believe his guilt stems from something much more serious than the survivor kind.”

  ~ * ~

  Back at his office, Caleb mulled over the incident with Blanchard in the parking lot. He hated to admit Marino might be correct in his theory about a copy-cat murder. Blanchard killing prostitutes didn’t seem right. But why would he want to get rid of his fiancée? …unless he was having an affair with someone else. But even that didn’t carry a lot of weight. He could simply have broken off the engagement.

  Could there be insurance money involved? Money or the lack thereof provided an excellent motive for murder.

  His cell phone rang. The display showed the number for the department fingerprint examiner. He quickly answered. “Hope you got some good news for me.”

  “That depends,” the examiner said in a monotone. “I guess it’s both bad and good. No matches on the envelope or photo.”

  “We expected that.”

  “However, I did match a couple of fingerprints on the cell you brought over.”

  He perked up. “Don’t keep me in suspense. Whose prints were they?”

  “They belong to your last victim, Kim Hendricks.”

  So she was the one who called Joanna Chatelaine. Was the call truly reaching out for he
lp? Or was she forced to phone her in order to set her up?

  Twenty-two

  Jamie continued pondering her questions about Adrien after Father Greg left her office. Why would he feel guilty? Was he cheating on Joanna? Maybe he wasn’t at home alone after he left our house.

  She left her office, walked into Joanna’s, and unlocked the top drawer of a gray metal file cabinet. Joanna was much more organized than she. Flipping through the files uncovered nothing of interest. All appeared to be cases of counseling sessions for women who had last names beginning with letters A to G.

  Could there be something in one of these files that caused the death of four women? In the past, Joanna had mentioned she entered all her files on her computer, but kept hard copies and cassette tapes as well. It might be easier to go into the computer, but she couldn’t remember Joanna’s password. She selected the file marked Chanara Brown and laid it aside.

  The next drawer contained files for names beginning with H-L. After pulling the one for Kim Hendricks, she idly flipped through the remainder in the drawer. A large manila envelope marked Life Insurance caught her eye.

  Why would she file this in with those related to counseling sessions? Could this be another copy of the insurance policy she had used as a down payment on Joanna’s funeral?

  She opened the envelope and removed the policy. Five hundred thousand dollars! Adrien was listed as the beneficiary. This was definitely a different policy.

  A check of the signatures made her take a closer look. Something about Joanna’s didn’t look right. She wasn’t familiar with Adrien’s writing, but to her, her sister’s signature appeared to be forged. Granted, she didn’t have expertise in handwriting analysis. Comparing her sister’s signature on documents related to Magdalen House seemed to be a good idea.

  Her thoughts went back a few days when she found Adrien in Joanna’s office talking on his phone. Could he have been looking for this document? Or did he place it in the drawer? Neither scenario made sense.

  Jamie pulled Rita Naquin’s file from the next drawer and gathered all the folders plus the insurance policy and carried them back to her office. The mysterious life insurance policy deserved her immediate attention.