Cozy Christmas Murder

by Summer Prescott

  “Careful,” I cautioned as we came to a dangerous curve in the road. Our headlights illuminated a sign that announced Winterdale three miles ahead. If we stayed on the road we were currently traveling, we’d reach the town of Winterdale. The navigation wanted us to take the road to the right.

  “This is it,” Ophelia said excitedly. “A five-day luxurious vacation just for us.”

  She carefully turned onto the paved road that would take us to Winterdale Chateau and Ski Resort. My pulse raced with excitement as I leaned closer to the windshield, straining to catch my first glimpse of the resort.

  I saw the lights first and my breath caught. We were still a good distance away—maybe a half mile. But the lights were breathtaking. There had to be thousands upon thousands of white Christmas lights surrounding the tops of every building, encircling the windows, and entwined in the tall pine trees.

  “Look at the mountain,” Ophelia gasped.

  Nestled back from the main buildings about one hundred yards was a massive mountain covered in snow.

  “I can’t wait to see this place in the daytime,” Ophelia said. “It looks huge.”

  The largest building was the one hundred room chateau the website boasted. From my vantage point in the dark, it looked to be made of both stone and wood. I would definitely be exploring more of the chateau during my stay.

  “Next year we’ll book far enough ahead so we can stay inside the chateau,” I promised.

  Ophelia laughed. “Now you’re talking. I knew you’d love this place.”

  To the left of the chateau, about fifty yards were eight brightly lit two-story condos lined up in a row. The exterior looked to be made from the same materials as the chateau. If the inside was as beautiful as the outside, I’d have no problem spending my five days here.

  We pulled into the massive circle drive outside of the chateau under a four-car awning. People were hauling suitcases out of trunks, laughing and talking, while the bellhops, dressed as elves, scurried around getting the correct information.

  “I’ll go get our condo key,” Ophelia volunteered.

  She put the car in park and hurried inside the chateau.

  I smiled as huge, fluffy snowflakes began falling from the sky. I closed my eyes and rested the back of my head against the seat. More than anything I wanted my stay to ease the heartache I still felt over my recent breakup.

  “All set,” Ophelia said as she slid into the front seat.

  I blinked in surprise. “That was fast.”

  Ophelia laughed. “I’ve been gone twenty minutes. You must have fallen asleep.”

  “Sorry. I guess I’m more tired than I realized.”

  “Well, you better get your second wind, girl,” Ophelia said, “because we’re gonna go unpack and then party the night away.”

  I stifled a groan.

  “We’re in the very last condo,” Ophelia said as she drove slowly down the narrow street in front of the condos. She parked in the one and only space left.

  We grabbed our suitcases and non-perishable groceries out of the trunk and wheeled them to the front door. Using an electronic key card, Ophelia let us into the spacious house.

  “Hello?” Ophelia’s voice echoed off the walls in the foyer.

  “Back here,” a female voice hollered back.

  The suitcases rolled smoothly on the tile floor as Ophelia and I left the foyer to follow the voice. We made a left and the room opened up into a gigantic great room. A large kitchen, complete with stainless steel appliances, tan and cream travertine countertops, and six barstools segued into a dining room with a table that sat six. On the other half of the room was an enormous stone fireplace that took up half the wall. A couch and two chairs made up a conversational area around the fireplace. Floor to ceiling windows gave a panoramic view of half the mountain and what looked to be a bunny slope area. In the middle of the room was a staircase that led downstairs.

  “Welcome!” A woman with chin-length dark hair, fringed bangs, and black square glasses came out from behind the counter to shake our hands. She was average height with a petite frame. “My name is Bitsie Carpenter, and this is my friend, Helen Beckett.”

  Helen stood up from her seat at the counter, drink in hand, and sauntered over to where we were standing. She was younger than Bitsie, and had the type of body guys usually go gaga over—curves in all the right places. Her strawberry-blonde hair billowed out around her shoulders in thick, full waves. She reminded me of a cherub, cute and cuddly.

  “Hi,” Helen said, her pale, blue eyes sparkling with friendliness. “Bitsie and I are from Colorado Springs. We’re both librarians at one of the city’s branches.”

  “My name’s Holly Anderson,” I said. “And this is my friend, Ophelia Lavolier. We’re both from Kansas City, Missouri. And we’re both elementary teachers.”

  “Wonderful!” Helen gushed. “Already we have a love of kids and books in common.”

  I chuckled. “That we do.”

  “Colorado Springs,” Ophelia mused. “So you’re pretty close to Winterdale. That’s nice for you guys.”

  Helen nodded. “Yes. But this is our first time here, though.”

  “Is the other couple here yet?” Ophelia asked.

  Bitsie wrinkled her nose, her glasses sliding up her face. “Yes. I’m the only one that’s met them. Helen just got here, herself, about ten minutes ago. I came up early since Helen had to close at the library today. It’s two girls.” She leaned in and rolled her eyes behind her glasses. “Very high maintenance kinda girls. They’re downstairs now. They came in demanding the one and only room that had an attached bathroom. They said they needed it since their attention would be in constant demand.”

  “Constant demand?” Ophelia snorted. “What the heck does that mean?”

  Bitsie scoffed. “I don’t know. Evidently, they’re from Denver, but they went to the university here in Winterdale and are well known. At least, that’s what they told me.”

  “In other words,” Ophelia said, “they’re legends in their own minds.”

  Helen choked on her drink and her pretty face turned pink. “Omigod! That was so funny!”

  “What’s so funny?” a tall, angular girl with waist-length black hair asked as she sashayed up the stairs, her back to us. When she reached the top of the stairs, she flipped her long hair over her shoulder and placed one hand on her jutted-out hip.

  “Yeah,” another girl asked as she followed closely at her friend’s heels. She was a complete contrast to the dark-haired woman. This woman had ice blue eyes and short, spiky white hair. Not blonde, but pure white hair. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing,” I said quickly.

  The two girls narrowed their eyes at us and continued walking toward us.

  “I’m assuming this one here,” the black-haired girl said as she stood in front of us and waved a hand at Bitsie, “has informed you of our need to have the larger room with a private bath?”

  Helen sucked in her breath, stumbled backward, and dropped her champagne on the carpet.

  “You clumsy cow,” the white-haired girl shrieked as a couple droplets sprayed her pants. “I’m going to have to go change now!”

  “Cool your jets,” Ophelia said. “Nothing got on you.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked Helen as I steadied her.

  Helen’s face had gone deathly pale.

  When Bitsie leaned over and gave Helen a questioning look, Helen slowly nodded her head. “I’m fine. Sorry.”

  “Well, watch what you’re doing next time, you big oaf,” the dark-haired girl sniffed.

  “Yeah,” white-haired girl echoed. “This is a Piedmont original. Do you have any idea what these pants cost?”

  “Sorry,” Helen mumbled. Her pretty face now tinted pink.

  I heard Bitsie growl and knew it was time to diffuse the tense situation.

  “Let’s try this again,” I said. “My name is Holly, and this is my friend, Ophelia.”

  Bitsie stood as tall
as her petite frame would allow, arms crossed over her chest. “And my name is Bitsie. The girl you were rude to is my friend, Helen.”

  “My name’s Margot,” the dark-haired girl said, ignoring the point about her being rude. “And this is my friend Chloe. We actually went to the university here, and once a month the manager gives us an all-access pass for a few days.”

  “Well, that’s nice of…” I trailed off.

  No need in finishing my sentence. Margot and Chloe had already dismissed me and walked toward the kitchen.

  “I better get a rag and clean up this champagne,” Helen murmured. She walked quickly to the kitchen, her head down the entire time, her face shrouded by her cascading hair.

  “Chloe and I,” Margot said as she helped herself to the bottle of champagne on the counter, “have a strict diet of carrots, celery, apples, and salmon. We’d appreciate it if you didn’t mix your foods with ours.”

  “Oh, of course,” Ophelia drawled out in an over-enunciated Southern twang. “I’m assuming that’s your champagne? Could we have a glass?”

  Anger flashed in Margot’s brown eyes. “I have no idea whose bottle this is.” She thrust the full glass of champagne at Chloe. “We better share this. We don’t want to go too crazy on the calories our first night here.”

  “Oh, Lord help me,” Ophelia said loudly. “I may be killing someone before the week is out!”

  Bitsie, Ophelia, and I giggled. Poor Helen was still scrubbing away on her hands and knees.

  “Omigod!” Chloe suddenly exclaimed from behind the counter. “Do you remember that hideous girl we went to college with named Helen? She was always stalking us on campus, wanting to be our friend, trying to pledge with us. Really big girl with greasy brown hair.”

  Margot pretended to gag. “Now I do! Why would you even be thinking of her?”

  Chloe shrugged. “I always think of her when I hear the name Helen.”

  Helen got up from where she was scrubbing and went to rinse off the rag. Margot’s eyes following her the whole time. “Well, I can guarantee you this girl isn’t that Helen. This one’s still plump, but she’s not bad looking. And the hair’s all wrong.”

  My mouth dropped in shock. I looked over at Bitsie…she had the same look I did.

  Helen didn’t say a word, just scurried out from the kitchen.

  “I have home-made sugar cookies,” Ophelia announced suddenly as she grabbed a tin from the food items we’d carried in. “Who wants some?”

  Margot and Chloe jumped back as though they’d been slapped. “Keep them away!”

  They took off at a fast pace and made their way down the stairs.

  “Nice,” Bitsie chuckled and gave Ophelia a high-five.

  I smiled. Bitsie and Ophelia were a lot alike. They weren’t going to let Margot and Chloe gang up on Helen.

  “Thank you,” Helen said. “Women like that make me nervous. I never know how to act around them.”

  “Don’t you worry,” Ophelia said. “We won’t let them get away with being ugly.”

  “Well, we better get unpacked,” I said. “Are you guys going to the chateau later for drinks?”

  “Yep,” Bitsie said. “Wanna walk down together? Helen and I will go change real quick.”

  “You bet,” Ophelia said.

  “Take the bedroom to the left of the shared bathroom,” Helen said softly. “We’re in the bedroom on the right.”

  CHAPTER 3

  * * *

  “That was a little weird, right?” I flung my suitcase on one of the twin beds in the room. “I mean, it started out great. But then it got weird, right?”

  “Stop reading into everything,” Ophelia chided. “Margot and Chloe are a drag, but I like Bitsie and Helen. We can have fun with them this week.”

  I sighed. “I’m sure you’re right.”

  Ten minutes later Ophelia and I finished unpacking. We then changed into short, knee-length party dresses, fluffed up our hair, and retouched our makeup.

  I found a blinking Christmas bulb necklace with matching earrings in my stash of Christmas jewelry and put them on. “There. Now I’m ready.”

  Ophelia shook her head at me. “Garish! Let’s go see if Bitsie and Helen are ready.”

  Grinning, I grabbed my black clutch and black wool cape and followed Ophelia up the stairs.

  “I love your matching boots!” Bitsie exclaimed as we walked toward the kitchen.

  I had on a pair of silver, ankle-length boots that zipped on the sides with three-inch heels to match my emerald green party dress. Ophelia’s boots were the exact same boots, only black in color. We’d splurged last year during an after-Christmas sale from one of the department stores.

  “They do look amazing,” Helen agreed as she handed Ophelia and me each a flute of champagne after we’d set our coats and purses down. “But I think your jewelry is awesome.”

  I laughed and clutched my blinking necklace. “Thank you, Helen.” I looked pointedly at Ophelia when I said it.

  Helen had changed into a black maxi-skirt with a red and white shapeless sweater. Silver earrings, necklace, and bracelet adorned her slim body. I was having a hard time pegging Helen’s age. She looked our age but dressed like she was twenty years older.

  I took a small sip of my champagne. “This is really good. Thank you for sharing.”

  Helen smiled. “I love champagne. We brought quite a lot of it.”

  “Can I ask how old you are?”

  “Me?” Helen blinked in surprise. “Oh, yes. I’m thirty. I’ll be thirty-one in February.”

  “And I’m thirty-seven,” Bitsie said. She was dressed in a knee-length, tight black skirt with a clingy red sweater that hugged her ample chest. Her black tights had silver studs that sparkled like diamonds in certain light, and her black suede ankle boots were cute and stylish. “And you ladies?”

  “Twenty-eight,” Ophelia and I parroted.

  “Well, now that we’ve got our ages covered,” Bitsie laughed as she downed the last of her champagne, “how about we go see what activities the chateau has planned. Maybe meet some men.” Bitsie looked down at our hands. “I don’t see rings. You both single?”

  Tears welled in my eyes, and I blinked them back before anyone could see. No way was I ruining my mascara over a cheating guy.

  Ophelia slipped her arm around me. More for comfort than anything, I knew. “We’re both single and looking!”

  Bitsie did a little victory jig. “Perfect. So are we. I say we go see what we can scare up.”

  “Where are Margot and Chloe?” I asked. “Are they not going over?”

  Bitsie snorted. “They said perfection can’t be rushed. They’ll be over later.”

  “How about we take a picture?” Ophelia said as she held up her phone. We all smiled into the camera as Ophelia snapped a photo.

  “I’m going to upload it to my social media,” Ophelia said. “Do you guys care?”

  “That’s fine,” Bitsie and Helen both said.

  “I hear the service is spotty,” Bitsie said. “When I checked into the chateau, they said they have computers available for guests because cell service is so bad.”

  “Yeah,” Ophelia agreed. “They told me the same thing.”

  Once the photo was uploaded, we slipped on our coats and headed outside to walk the short distance to the chateau. The air was chilly, but at least it had stopped snowing.

  “I can’t get over how different the air is here,” Ophelia said.

  I chuckled. “I didn’t want to be the first to admit it, but I’m kinda struggling just to walk.”

  “That’s what happens,” Helen said, “when you are this high up in elevation. Your bodies aren’t used to the lower air pressure and decreased oxygen. Give it time.”

  I didn’t have the heart to remind her we’d only be here one week. I doubt our bodies would adjust by then.

  “Good evening, ladies,” a handsome elf said as he opened the front door to the chateau. “I hope you enjoy your evening.”


  Ophelia ran her red fingernail lightly down his face. “If all the elves look like you, we sure will.”

  The elf grinned at her.

  “I like your style,” Bitsie said as she hooked her arm through Ophelia’s. “I think you and I are gonna get along just fine this week.”

  I rolled my eyes at Helen.

  Helen giggled then leaned in close. “I constantly feel like I’m chaperoning Bitsie. You know what I mean?”

  I nodded my head as I watched Bitsie and Ophelia make their way over to the bar. “I do. Although, I envy women like Bitsie and Ophelia. They are so confident.”

  “I say the same thing. Bitsie’s always trying to get me to loosen up. She teases me that the old-maid librarian thing isn’t really true.”

  “C’mon,” I said as I grabbed her hand. “Let’s go see what we’re drinking tonight.”

  The chateau’s expansive foyer was large enough to hold at least two hundred people. There were already eighty or more people milling around the foyer laughing and drinking and having a good time. Christmas music was flowing through the speakers, and a beautifully adorned twelve-foot Christmas tree stood in the middle of the room. Floor to ceiling windows along the back wall gave a breathtaking view to the partially lit-up mountain.

  We sidled up behind Bitsie and Ophelia, who were shamelessly flirting with the bartender.

  “I think,” Ophelia said coyly, “I’ll have the Santa’s Little Ho Ho Ho.”

  I snickered at the ridiculous play on words. “Only you.”

  Ophelia grinned. “What?”

  “Good choice,” the bartender smiled. “And for you lovely ladies?”

  “I’ll have the same,” Bitsie winked.

  “Champagne,” I said quickly.

  “Champagne,” Helen echoed.

  “So how did you guys hear about this place?” Bitsie asked as the bartender left to make our drinks.

  “Holly and I decided to get away for a while,” Ophelia said diplomatically, not wanting to call attention to my recent breakup. “So I went online and looked at getaway vacations. This place was beautiful, affordable, and I liked the idea of the shared condo.”