Cozy Christmas Murder

by Summer Prescott

  “What did they want?” Grace's heart rate bumped a notch. This couldn't be good news.

  “Ian wants to talk to us. He asked if we could wait.”

  “Maybe he has something good to report.” Then again, why not tell Kate on the phone if that was the case?

  “Somehow, I doubt it. Let’s go downstairs and turn off the alarm so it doesn’t start shrieking when he comes in.”

  Grace followed her sister downstairs. She was hoping to get home, and take a nice bubble bath before she settled in with a book. She wasn’t looking forward to seeing Ian again.

  Kate turned the alarm off when she saw Ian approach. She threw the door open. “Come on in.”

  “I know it’s kind of late, but this is important,” he said.

  “It’s okay,” Kate replied.

  “What happened?” Grace asked.

  “I looked into the agreement you had with Blake,” Ian wasted no time in getting down to business as he faced the women.

  “Where did you find it?” Kate asked.

  “I called his agent, as Grace suggested. She gave me the name of his sister, his accountant, and his attorney.”

  “How did she take the news of his death?” Grace asked. “His agent, I mean?” She knew Blake had been with her since he started out. The poor woman must be terribly upset.

  “She’d heard about it on the news, but she didn’t sound particularly devastated. She was a little tight-lipped. I got pretty much the same reaction from his sister.”

  “I don’t recall Blake ever mentioning a sister, do you, Kate?”

  “No, I don’t either,” Kate replied.

  “His sister gave me her address,” Ian said. “I’m sending Blake’s things that he had at Thistlewood to her.”

  “Are you closer to finding the killer? Is that why you’re here?” Kate asked, holding up crossed fingers.

  “We’re working on some angles. His attorney faxed me the business agreement Blake had with both of you. It’s quite an agreement.”

  Grace’s throat went dry and goosebumps rose on her skin. She suddenly knew where this was going. It was no surprise that the police would hone in on their agreement.

  “Kate, your husband drew up the contract for your partnership, correct?” Ian asked.

  “No. Blake’s attorney did. Jeremiah reviewed it thoroughly. Either Grace or I would’ve gotten you a copy if you’d asked for it.”

  “There’s a legal clause he put in that benefits you both monetarily in the event of his death.”

  Grace felt numb. Did Ian think she and Kate killed Blake? Surely, not. If that’s what he thought, it was the most ridiculous thing she’d ever heard of. So much so, that she almost laughed out loud. She answered before Kate did. “That’s true. Blake insisted. He wanted to make sure we were taken care of in the event of his death.”

  “Black Cat Books was having some financial issues,” Ian went on.

  Kate pinned Ian with an icy glare. “If you’re suggesting that either Grace or I killed Blake D’Arcy then you are way out of line and this conversation is over. We’ve known you since kindergarten, Ian. You know very well we aren’t killers.”

  “I didn’t accuse you of murder.” Ian was unfazed by Kate’s ire. “I’m saying your store has financial issues.”

  “Had financial issues, Ian,” Grace dove in. “Had. Because of Blake’s generosity, we’re fine now. We’ve recently set up an online store, and we’ve had lots of growth in customers coming in here. We’ve done some remodeling, brightened up the store, and have been able to fix the plumbing issues. We’ve even converted the attic to a special room for moms and small children.” As if he’d care about all that, she thought. She stopped talking.

  “And because he’s dead, you’ll continue to be fine,” he leveled a dark look at both women.

  “That’s enough!” Indignation burned Grace’s throat. “Arrest us or get out. I mean it, Ian. You have no solid evidence that we killed Blake. That’s exactly what you’re thinking, isn’t it? We’re devastated by his death. To think that we would’ve killed him is absolutely ridiculous. Please leave. Now. Kate and I are not saying another word.”

  Grace was happy to see that Ian was taken aback at her outburst. He wouldn’t have expected it from her. Kate yes, but not her. She was the quiet one, the shy one. No more. She’d show him! No one was going to accuse her and her twin of murder and get away with it.

  He shifted from one foot to another. “I appreciate your seeing me. I’ll be in touch.”

  Grace almost slammed the door at his back when he left, but her good breeding kicked in, and she refrained.

  Kate turned toward her and clapped. “You were awesome, Grace! You really told him off. How dare he accuse us of murder? I can’t believe it.”

  Grace was trembling. “He didn’t exactly come right out and accuse us, but it’s clear where his mind is. Do you think we need an attorney?”

  “I’ll ask Jeremiah, but I don’t think so. Ian's on a fishing expedition. Really? The two of us as murderers? The man has lost his mind. Reset the alarm and let’s go.”

  CHAPTER 5

  * * *

  Grace sunk into the warm cocoon of aromatic bubbles and closed her eyes. Between getting ready for the Christmas tea that never took place, Blake’s murder, and Ian’s barely-veiled insinuation that she and Kate had had something to do with it, she was mentally exhausted.

  Was Ian doing this to get back at her for canceling their wedding? And why, after all this time? It seemed rather silly to her. He’d been married and she assumed he’d loved his wife. Would he go as far as to try and frame her for murder? Was that his revenge? No, she couldn’t fathom that.

  She closed her eyes, putting his words earlier that night out of her head. Christmas was three weeks away and she still had to bake cookies for her family, and for the Black Cat Books customers. She hadn’t even finished decorating the small Christmas tree in her living room, and she wanted to make more Christmas jam to give as gifts.

  Sometimes she wished she could meet a great guy and get married. Especially during the holidays. Most of the time she loved living alone, but having a partner would be lovely, too. It wasn’t too late. She almost laughed out loud thinking about some of the dates she’d been on when she’d signed up for that dating service that touted itself as the premier dating service for discerning women and men over fifty that her best friend had talked her into. What a boondoggle that had been.

  ###

  The doorbell pealed as soon as Grace had settled on the couch with the romance novel that Kate had shoved in her hand before they'd left the bookstore earlier. She paused, staring at the door. Sweetwater was a close-knit, friendly town, and usually she wouldn’t think twice about throwing the door open, even at eight o’clock at night when darkness had long settled in, but Blake’s murder had her on edge. A killer could be out there on the loose looking for more victims.

  “Grace, it’s Ian,” came a deep voice from the other side. “In case you can hear me.”

  Ian? What was he doing here? Grace tossed her book aside and got up. She unlocked and pulled open the door. “What’s wrong? Didn’t I see you a little earlier?”

  “I know and I’m sorry for bothering you. I wanted to talk to you alone.”

  She stepped away from the entrance and shivered. “Come in then. It’s frigid out there.” She closed the door behind him. “Would you like to sit down?” She was still a little angry, but she couldn’t bring herself to be outright rude to him.

  “That’d be fine.”

  “What is it?” she asked as soon as they sat on her couch. If he wanted an apology from her for her earlier outburst, he had wasted his time. She wasn’t feeling the least bit apologetic.

  “I didn’t want to say this in front of Kate. I have Blake’s cell phone.”

  She stared at him as heat warmed her cheeks. She had no comeback for that.

  Ian cleared his throat and continued. “There were messages on his phone between Bl
ake and you. I don’t know if Kate was aware of how you felt. I didn’t want to say anything in front of her.”

  Despite her nightgown, socks, and robe, she felt naked and vulnerable. She knew what those messages were all about. She couldn’t believe Blake hadn’t erased them. It had happened months back. Why would he have kept them?

  “You were hurt that he rebuffed your advances,” Ian said softly. “Maybe you wanted to pay him back.”

  Grace got where he was going immediately. “By killing him? What would that do? You’re going down the wrong path.” She hated the sympathy in Ian’s voice. He made her sound pathetic, like she’d begged Blake for a date, or thrown herself at him.

  She’d had a crush on him, yes and she’d never mentioned it to Kate. They didn’t share everything with each other. She’d recently come out of a long-term relationship, and had convinced herself that Blake was the one for her. It was silly, she admitted looking back now, a woman her age acting like that, but it was over.

  Blake had been a gentleman and explained he wasn’t interested in dating at the moment, and preferred to keep their relationship on a friend and business level. Ok, it had stung, but life had gone on. It hadn’t affected their friendship, or business relationship, at all.

  Despite her embarrassment, she met Ian’s eyes. “I was disappointed, yes. I’m not sure about hurt. I’m a grown woman, I can take no for an answer. And goodness, it was months ago. What does this have to do with his murder?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Is this about me calling off our wedding? Are you trying to pay me back by getting me arrested for murder?”

  “How could you say something like that, Grace? You know me better than that. I admit that losing you was the most painful thing in my life up to that point, and it took me a long time to get over you, but it’s done now. I’ve made my peace with it. But I wish—”

  “Wish what?” Grace asked when he stared into space and left his thought dangling. They were veering off track. Ian wasn’t here to discuss their failed relationship.

  “Nothing. It doesn’t matter anymore, does it?” His eyes hardened. “I’m only doing my job.”

  “And your job involves thinking that I killed Blake because he didn’t want to go on a date with me? That’s absurd and ridiculous. Not to mention shoddy police work. You should know me better than that!”

  Ian ignored her outburst. “I read the messages. There were quite a few. You seemed pretty upset. Then, there’s the matter of the clause in your business contract with him. You and Kate won’t have to worry about Black Cat Books for the rest of your lives.

  “He was worth more dead than alive to both of you. It could’ve been a spur of the moment decision. You’d be surprised how many murders involve money. All murder isn’t pre-meditated. Things can get out of hand and someone ends up dead. It happens.”

  She shot up from the couch. “That is a hideous thing to think about Kate and me! I’m sorry for what I did to you all those years ago, Ian. I truly am. I should have reached out to you sooner, especially when your wife died. I’ve regretted what I did to you, and the way I did it, for so long. But it’s been years, we’ve both moved on, and as you mentioned, it doesn’t matter anymore. To come and accuse me of murder is over-the-top crazy. I didn’t kill Blake. Neither did Kate.” She felt tears threatening but she’d ram a stick in her eye before she cried in front of him.

  Ian didn’t respond. Grace couldn’t tell what was going on in his head. Was he thinking about her apology? Thinking about their long-ago relationship? Wondering what size handcuffs she would need? How she’d look in prison stripes?

  He finally spoke. “There’s something else.”

  “What?” She was emotionally worn out. She didn’t want to hear any more. There was no way Ian could pin a murder on her, she told herself, even though it seemed clear he wanted to.

  “There was an email to his agent in the draft folder of his phone.”

  “Why are you telling me this? Does it have something to do with his murder?”

  “I’ll read it to you.” He pulled some papers out of the leather folder he’d brought with him. He began reading. She can’t accept that it’s over with us. There was never an “us” to begin with. She doesn’t realize that. I’m worried about her. The small town is choking her. But I’m no savior. I may have misled her. We kissed and I . . .

  Grace waited for more, but none came. “That’s it?”

  “It ends there. He didn’t write anything else.”

  She stared at him for a few seconds, her thoughts churning. There was no doubt where he was going with this. She felt so much anger building she began shaking. “You think he wrote that about me?”

  “It’s not out of the realm of possibility. Maybe he didn’t know how to get rid of you.”

  “Get rid of me? You make it sound like I was some sort of thorn in his side. We had a good business relationship and we were good friends. He didn't want to get rid of me. That's low, and very insulting. You can’t arrest me on the basis of an email that he wrote to his agent!” she shot back, afraid she might burst into flames at his audacity. How dare he?

  “Grace, I—”

  She had no interest in letting him say anything. “I wasn’t obsessed with the man, for heaven’s sake. You’re making it sound like I was a mad stalker, or obsessed lover. You’re welcome to search my home. You won’t find a closet made into a shrine to Blake, with candles blazing, and walls plastered with pictures of him.”

  She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. How could he possibly think that she had killed Blake? It was absurd, crazy, and pure nonsense. Her instincts said his questioning had nothing to do with Blake’s murder, but everything to do with her walking away from him. Maybe he should excuse himself from being the detective on the case.

  “No, I can’t arrest you based on that,” his voice sliced in on her thoughts. “And I'm not planning on arresting you.”

  She could almost see a big, fat yet floating in the air.

  “I’m trying to solve a murder. And I will, Grace.” He put the papers back in the folder.

  “Ian,” Grace subconsciously leaned toward him. “He didn’t write that about me. I know there’s history between you and me, but you cannot possibly believe, even a tiny bit, that I could kill anyone. Or that Kate could, either.”

  He got up and avoided eye contact. “Things happen. Good people do bad stuff. The investigation isn’t over. Walk me to the door and make sure you lock up after me.”

  She stood staring at the door after he’d left. She’d lost interest in the book she’d been reading when he’d arrived. She thought earlier that she might make a batch of Christmas chocolate walnut cookies tonight—the recipe had originated with her great-grandmother—but Ian had sucked the Christmas right out of her.

  Someone had murdered Blake D’Arcy, but it sure wasn’t her, or Kate. There was only one thing to do. Find the killer, wrap them up in some pretty Christmas paper, pop a bow on the package, and pop it under Detective Ian Logan's Christmas tree.

  CHAPTER 6

  * * *

  “He did what?” Kate screeched the next morning at Black Cat Books when Grace told her about Ian’s visit. “Just because you had the hots for Blake and he turned you down, Ian thinks you killed him? And he still thinks we might have killed him? The man’s loco!” She looked Grace up and down, smirking. “Um, I had no idea you felt that way about Blake, sis. He was a little old for you, wasn’t he? I mean he definitely looked great for a sixty-five-year-old, but thirteen years is a big gap.”

  “It was not a big deal, Kate,” Grace snapped, “and nothing happened, so could we move on from that subject? What matters is I think Ian wants to see us, or at least me, in prison for murder.”

  Kate’s smirk faded. She picked up a Santa snow globe from the fireplace mantel and shook it, watching the flakes sift down to the bottom. “I think he’s posturing. He has no evidence. Naturally, our fingerprints are going to be in here, including on the murder we
apon, if the poker was indeed the murder weapon, but that means nothing. According to today’s paper, the police still have no suspects. It’s kind of scary, don’t you think? I mean the fact that someone waltzed in here and killed him.”

  Grace nodded in agreement. “Did you talk to Jeremiah? Does he think we need a lawyer?”

  “Not at this point. Of course, I didn’t know Ian had gone full-throttle police mode on you. The nerve of him! Do you want me to give him a talking to?”

  Grace threw her sister a grin as she walked over to the door and flipped their sign in the window so it read “Open” to everyone. Kate always had her back. She was the best sister she could ever ask for.

  “No, don’t do that, he’s liable to have us both in jail by nightfall, but thanks. I appreciate your outrage on my behalf. What do you think, kitty? What did you see that morning?”