Cozy Christmas Murder

by Summer Prescott

  Grace waved her hand at Kate, so she would talk. “Hello. I’m looking for Susannah Ellington.”

  “This is she.”

  “Hi, Susannah. I’m Kate McCall. My sister, Grace Danning, is here, too. We have you on speakerphone, but don’t worry, we’re the only ones here. We’re business associates and friends of your brother, Blake. We wanted to offer our condolences on his death.”

  “Thanks. How did you get my number?” Her voice was laced with suspicion.

  “His agent gave it to us. She said you were listed as an emergency contact,” explained Kate.

  “That information is ancient, but nonetheless, it’s nice of you both to call,” her voice lost some of its edge. “I’ve spoken to a Detective Logan. He’s going to mail me Blake’s things. Don’t ask me what I’m going to do with them. I understand he was in your town for a book signing or something?”

  “Hi, Susannah, this is Grace. Kate and I own Black Cat Books. He was going to be the guest of honor at our Christmas tea, and play Santa.” A lump formed in her throat thinking about it. “We are so sorry about his death. It's so sad. We miss him terribly already.”

  “I’ve been to your bookstore. It’s very nice.”

  “Thank you,” both sisters said at the same time.

  “Do you have a date for his funeral and where it will be held?” Grace asked. She thought it odd his sister sounded so detached, she assumed she’d be more upset.

  There was a long silence. Grace thought they'd lost their connections. “Susannah? Are you still there?” she prompted, looking at Kate with a confused look.

  “I’m here. Blake and I have been estranged for a very long time. I’m not planning to go to his funeral. We haven't spoken in more years than I can count. It would be like attending a stranger’s funeral.”

  Grace was surprised at that revelation, although now that she thought about it, Blake never spoke about relatives. “He must have had you in his will.”

  Kate shot her a what are you thinking? look. “Excuse my sister, Susannah, she blurts out things without filtering first.”

  “It’s okay. I can say with certainty he did not leave me anything in his will. He intended on leaving my son, Joshua, his entire estate. He told me years ago that our estrangement wouldn’t change that.”

  “What happened to cause your estrangement?” Grace asked.

  Kate glared at her and made a slashing motion across her throat, which meant stop talking, which Grace ignored. There was no harm in asking questions as long as Susannah didn’t get upset, or hang up on them.

  Again, there was silence and Grace was on the verge of apologizing when Susannah spoke. “I was a writer, too.”

  “What a talented family,” Kate said.

  “I wrote The Hat Makers.”

  Kate and Grace stared at each other with identical shocked looks. That was Blake’s first bestseller. A lot of people believed it to still be his best work. It had certainly propelled him to worldwide best-selling author status.

  “I don’t understand,” Kate said. “Why was it published under Blake’s name?”

  Susannah sighed. “It’s a long story. You wouldn’t believe it.”

  “Please,” Grace urged. “We’d like to hear it.”

  “Only if you want to share,” Kate added. “I’m sorry if we’re being nosy.”

  “No, it’s okay. Blake had just signed with Alice Braddock. She signed him based on his first book, The Magic of City Lights. She loved that book, and thought it would be a huge best-seller. I don’t know if you've heard of it, but it didn’t sell well. I thought it was great, too. Alice and Blake were devastated. I felt so badly for him. Then he wrote Anthem to The Old Neighborhood. It didn’t sell well, either, even though I thought it was wonderful. So did Alice. He was despondent. As in scarily despondent.”

  “I didn’t realize he’d had such a hard time,” Grace said. “I’m so sorry.”

  “No need to be sorry. I’d never seen him so down,” Susannah continued. “He wouldn’t eat, he barely slept. He wouldn’t talk to anyone, and he refused to shower. He didn’t even bother to change out of his pajamas for days and days. He stopped writing. He basically lost the will to participate in the world. Clementine, his wife at the time, came to me. She was so distraught, she didn’t know what to do for him. She begged me to help him. She was afraid he was going to hurt himself.”

  “My gosh, Susannah. I had no idea. The poor man. What happened?” Kate put in.

  “My family didn’t know, but I’d been writing, too. It took me three years to finish The Hat Makers. I was twenty-one then. I asked Blake to read it. I told him that if he and Alice thought it had merit, and she was very sure it would sell, I’d let him put his name on it, too. I told him that I was sure that the next thing he wrote would be a best-seller. I wanted to help him. I was so afraid he was going to do something awful, like kill himself.”

  Grace was beyond shocked. She knew there was only one author’s name on The Hat Makers, and it wasn’t Susannah’s. “What then?”

  “Blake read and loved it. He thought it was brilliant. Alice agreed. Blake was so happy. So full of life again. Clementine practically knelt and kissed my feet. And I, of course, was over the moon. Not only had I pulled my brother back from the abyss he was looking into, but his agent thought my book was brilliant. It made me feel so close to Blake, knowing we’d be famous. At least that’s what I thought.”

  “But something went wrong,” Kate guessed.

  “Um... just a little. I worshipped my big brother. He was always so good to me. So good to our parents. We were a close family. I could never imagine Blake doing what he did to me. I still can’t.”

  Grace took up Susannah’s story. “He took your book and never gave you credit. Your name was never on it. I’ve read that book. It is indeed brilliant.”

  “Thank you, but it doesn’t matter to me anymore. Yes, you’re right. That’s exactly what happened. He never mentioned my name to Alice at all. He lied to me and told me he did. He told me my name would be first on the contract and on the book. I never got a contract. When I asked about it, Blake kept evading my questions.”

  “Did you contact Alice yourself?” Grace asked.

  “I sure did. I contacted her right after I started to get a funny feeling when I didn’t see a contract and Alice never asked to speak with me. I called her and she had no idea who I was. When I told her I was Blake’s sister, and said that I’d written The Hat Makers, and only offered to share it with Blake, she told me that he’d told her all about me and my ‘issues’ and that I’d made the whole thing up. She refused to speak to me ever again.”

  “And that was before personal computers, I’m guessing,” Grace said, her heart going out to Susannah. She couldn’t imagine such betrayal.

  “I did it all on my typewriter. I had no proof whatsoever that I was the one who really wrote that book. The only copy I had was the one I handed over to Blake. I’d never even mentioned to anyone that I was writing it. I was such an idiot.”

  “No, you weren’t. You trusted him. He betrayed you in the worst way. Wow. I don't know what to say,” Kate told her. “I'm so sorry. I'm guessing you stopped talking to him at that point.”

  “Yes. I told him as far as I was concerned he was no longer my brother. I didn’t want to know him. Giving his estate to my son doesn't make up for what he did to me. He's only doing it out of guilt. Or maybe it means he had some kind of moral compass, after all. Regardless, I will never get over it. All I can do is try and live my life the best I can.”

  “I don’t think I could get over that, either,” Grace commiserated. How could Blake have done that to her? “Did you ever think of writing another book?”

  “No. It would’ve been too painful for me. I went on with my life. Look, I'm sorry for taking up your time with all this. I don’t know why I babbled on so much and told you everything. I never do that. I try not to think of it.” Her laugh was dry. “Most times I’m successful.”

&
nbsp; “How did he know he could really write? Given his first two books didn’t sell, what made him think anything else he wrote would?” Grace asked. It was a heartbreaking story, but she couldn't help but be fascinated by it.

  “He had talent. I never doubted that. He had to find his voice, as they say. Except he stole mine, first. Once The Hat Makers came out, the first two books he wrote were suddenly best-sellers. And everything that came out after The Hat Makers was a best-seller. I probably don’t have to tell you that. Please, I beg you, don’t repeat any of this to anyone. I'm still mind-boggled that I told you. I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

  “You have our word,” Grace promised. “Neither Kate nor I will say a peep about this to anyone. It seems so unlike the Blake we knew. He was a silent partner in our bookstore. He set up some kind of annuity thing that ensures that Black Cat Books is set for life. He was always so kind, and such a gentleman.”

  “Did he? My son may fight that. Blake promised to leave everything to him. You might want to go over whatever it is he left you with a fine-toothed comb. Blake D’Arcy wasn’t the man you thought he was. I have to go.”

  “Wait, please! I don't suppose you know who may have killed Blake, do you?” Grace ventured.

  “No idea. I do know it wasn't me. If I was going to do that to get revenge on what he did to me, he'd have been dead long ago.”

  ###

  Grace and Kate didn’t have time to discuss their conversation with Susannah. Customers started traipsing in as soon as they’d hung up with her, but Grace was distracted by their conversation for the rest of the day. It was a good thing Alice and Susannah apparently loved to talk. Except the picture they painted of Blake didn't align with the Blake she’d known. Would Susannah’s son, Joshua really think about fighting them over what Blake had done for them, and Black Cat Books?

  Grace had so many questions that would probably always go unanswered. How could he have done that to his sister? And his agent? Two women who had good reasons to kill him, although Susannah had a slight edge. The only thing was, if his sister had killed him, why would she have waited so long as she said?

  And if they were estranged how would she have known he was going to be at the bookstore? Grace had no answers to the questions circling in her head. Blake’s death seemed suddenly much more complicated. She wondered who else out there he had wronged? She had to know more.

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  Grace turned on her computer when she arrived home. She made herself a cup of lavender tea, and sat in her recliner, her favorite quilt draped over her legs, laptop on her lap desk. She hadn’t mentioned to Kate that she felt driven to see what else she could discover about Blake. She couldn’t help but think something wasn’t right and they’d missed it. If she found something that Ian hadn’t, maybe it could help solve his murder. At least he hadn’t come around anymore insinuating she’d had reason to kill Blake, although she was sure he hadn’t excluded her, or Kate. What was that saying? The calm before the storm. She began searching.

  ###

  “I searched the internet last night, looking for stuff about Blake,” Grace told Kate the next morning when they arrived at Black Cat Books.

  “That’s hilarious, I did the same thing when I got home. Jeremiah was wrapped up with a basketball game on TV, so I had nothing to disturb me. I didn’t want to say anything to you because I thought you would think I was silly.”

  “Ditto!” Grace laughed with her sister. “We have some time before we open. Should we compare notes?”

  “Let’s,” Kate agreed. “By the way, Blake’s attorney called me on my cell phone. He told me Blake had given my number to him when he drew up the partnership contract. He said he needs to send us some paperwork. I asked about the funeral, and he told me it’s scheduled on the 13th. It looks like the attorney is handling all the details.”

  “Where is it going to be?”

  “At Saint Margaret’s in Brookhaven, then the internment is at Glenwood Cemetery in Brookhaven.”

  “I'm glad you found out the details. Sad that he doesn't have family to step up.”

  Kate nodded. “It is. We should have asked Susannah if he had other relatives he was close to. Oh well. I haven't had a chance to mention this to you, but maybe you shouldn't have said anything to Susannah about Blake leaving Black Cat Books set for life. We don't know the woman. For all we know she could've made everything up.”

  Grace inhaled sharply. “Oh no. I didn't think of that. You have a point. Maybe she'll forget I said it.”

  “Doubtful, but we can hope. You can't exactly take it back now.”

  “True. Okay, so what have we got on Blake? Go on, you go first,” said Grace.

  “Okay. I found a crazy fan. She was convinced that one of his novels was all about his love for her. She followed him to all his events, showed up on his doorstep, both here in Indiana, and at his Florida home, sent him emails, presents, pictures of herself in the buff, and otherwise. When he didn't respond, she turned nasty. She even broke into his Florida house and was arrested. She told the police she was Blake's maid. Can you believe it?”

  “Victoria Nelson!” Grace shouted. “I found her, too! What a nut job. He took a restraining order out against her. She emailed him several times, and sent letters to Alice and his publisher saying that Blake had better watch his back, that she was going to kill him because he refused to acknowledge her.”

  “What if she somehow knew he was going to be here and followed him? It’s possible. Maybe she called his agent and pretended to be someone else and Alice told her? I saw a picture of her, but I didn’t notice anyone who looked like her around here.”

  “I saw a few pictures of her, too. And I didn’t see her around here, either. Unless she was in a good disguise. Then again, are we going to remember every single person we see?”

  “Okay,” Kate declared. “We have ourselves a suspect. Remember the class he was giving for aspiring writers?”

  “I sure do,” Grace said. “The one you wanted to take.”

  Kate nodded. “One of his students, a Corey Ballinger, was pretty upset that Blake didn’t think his writing was stellar. Apparently, Blake’s feedback didn’t sit well with Mr. Ballinger. He pretty much trashed him on Blake’s author Facebook page.

  “Then he proceeded to trash him on his own Facebook page, and also on Facebook groups aimed at mystery novel lovers. He sent nasty tweets, too. He tried to discredit Blake any way he could.”

  “Darn! I didn’t think of looking at social media. I wonder if Ian has spoken to these people? Did Blake respond to this Corey guy?”

  “Not that I saw. It looks like he totally ignored him. At least as far as social media goes. I didn’t find anything on Corey trying to contact Blake in person. Good grief. How stupid is that? I mean, of this Corey guy. Trashing Blake on Facebook. Talk about cutting off your nose to spite your face. I'm sure he'll never get published now, even if he is any good.”

  “It doesn’t sound smart, but was he upset enough to murder Blake?” Grace wondered.

  “It sounds as if he might have been. Suspect number two. We’re on a roll. What else?”

  “I found out that ex-wife, the last one, had plenty of bad things to say about him. Remember Alice told us the woman gave up a career as a prima ballerina to be Mrs. Blake D’Arcy? Alissa, right? There was an article in a major newspaper about their relationship.

  “According to Alissa, he was verbally abusive, and cared more about his made-up characters than about her and their marriage. She became bitter because he was stingy with his money, and kept her on a short leash, so to speak. She could have been a famous ballerina if not for him. That’s according to her.”

  “That doesn’t sound like the Blake we know at all.” Kate looked troubled.

  “I know,” Grace agreed. “The question is, how well did we know him? When I was reading what I’d found last night, it crossed my mind that we should have done this before. We only knew what he wanted us to
know. Maybe he had a dark side.”

  “Would it have made a difference? I mean, were we going to tell him our deal is off, and we didn’t want him to be our Santa?”

  “Probably not,” Grace admitted. “He obviously wanted us to think well of him.”

  Kate sighed. “In a way, I don’t want to know about all this negative stuff. He was good to us, that’s all I can say.”

  Grace couldn’t have agreed more. “I know, but I think we need to do this. I’m sure you don’t want to end up on the inside of a jail cell, and I don’t want to, either. I think his ex-wife could be a suspect. What about Christopher Hewitt? He was Blake’s last co-author. Did you read anything about him?”

  “I read a little, then fell asleep,” Kate replied. “Blake stole his books, right? Like he did his sister’s novel?”