Cozy Christmas Murder

by Summer Prescott

  “Simmer down there, Sherlock. Let’s not jump to conclusions just yet.”

  I scowled at Ophelia and then pointed to a parking space mid-way between the chateau and our condo. “Park here. I want to go inside and double check on tonight’s activity time. It’s the white elephant gift exchange.” I turned to Ophelia and grinned. “You know how much I love white elephant exchanges.”

  Ophelia parked and we hurried into the chateau and found the activities table. Cocktails started at five, and the white elephant gift exchange started at six.

  “Perfect,” I said. “I say we go back to the condo, grab some lunch, and clear our minds by doing some skiing.”

  “And then sometime before we leave tonight we talk with Helen. We need to know what’s going on.”

  I stopped suddenly and pointed to an empty computer that was set up for guests. The sign on the wall above the computer said that since the chateau was nestled back in the mountains and cell service could be spotty, guests were more than welcome to use the computer.

  “I say we do some stalking of our own.” I dragged Ophelia over to the computer and signed on under my name to a well-known social media site. “Let’s look up Margot and Chloe first.”

  I typed in Margot’s name and was shocked to see there was very little activity on her wall.

  “That’s weird,” I said. “They talk nonstop about posting pictures, yet I don’t really see anything on here.”

  “I think they use the mobile version of this social media,” Ophelia said. “I heard them referring to the name.” She pulled out her phone and hit the app. She then typed in Margot Martin and the screen filled with dozens of pictures. Ophelia scrolled down even further, and the dozens became hundreds. “Holy cow, these girls are all about posting pictures of themselves together.”

  “There’s one with a video sign on the picture. Looks pretty recent. Push it and let’s see what’s going on.”

  The cell service was so slow it took a few seconds to load, but eventually Margot and Chloe filled the screen. Both girls were obviously clubbing, the gyrating bodies and strobe lights a huge clue. Margot’s excited voice told everyone they were going to be in Winterdale next week and they’d be posting pictures and videos for their fans.

  “Is it weird they have fans?” I asked. “I mean, they don’t really seem to have day jobs. They’ve never mentioned what they do in Denver.”

  Ophelia laughed. “That’s how these people are. They think everyone hangs on to their every word. When you add in the mix all the crazy social medias out in the world, people have a tendency to become very narcissistic.”

  “How many followers do they have?” I asked as I turned back to the computer to pull up Helen’s name.

  “Pretty much the same number. Margot has about three thousand and Chloe just under that.”

  “What!” I exclaimed. “That’s ridiculous! There’s no way they can know all those people!”

  Ophelia laughed. “You can be so naïve sometimes.”

  “No wonder they think they are important people, they have thousands of followers.” I turned back to the computer and silently perused Helen’s wall. Compared to Margot and Chloe, Helen’s wall was pretty tame. “Lots of pictures of books and of the library.” I clicked on the photos. “No photos of her when she was overweight. No pictures of her alma mater. That’s interesting.”

  “What about Bitsie? What’s her wall look like?”

  I searched for Bitsie Carpenter and found she had her page blocked.

  “Wonder why all the privacy?” Ophelia asked. “I mean, I have privacy on who can see my friends and what can be posted on my wall for non-friends to see, but Bitsie pretty much has a complete block.”

  I bit my lip in concentration. “What about searching them on the Web?” I asked. “Think I should try that route?”

  Ophelia shrugged. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt. Let’s look up Helen since we know she’s lied and that she actually did attend the university here in Winterdale.”

  I logged out of the social media site and pulled up a search engine online. I typed in Helen Beckett and then hit return. The screen quickly filled with links. I scanned the numerous links and saw the first three were different social media links where she could be found. Another link had her name and the Colorado Springs library, while another was for a Helen Beckett that was a lawyer and had nothing whatsoever to do with her.

  “There doesn’t seem to be anything juicy here,” I said, unable to keep the disappointment out of my voice. I wasn’t sure what I’d find, but I thought maybe something good would stand out. Like maybe an arrest record that had her labeled a crazy stalker.

  I typed in both Margot and Chloe’s names, and just like with Helen’s there wasn’t anything juicy that stood out. Margot and Chloe were both obvious socialites, but that didn’t make them crazed killers. At least, I had to tell myself that.

  Ophelia whistled when I clicked on one link to read the article. “Wow, looks like Margot and Chloe both come from wealthy, affluent families in Denver. This article has Margot’s family donating money to build another wing on a hospital. That’s pretty major.”

  I didn’t say anything, just clicked out of the article. Scanning the list of links, most were of the girls’ immediate family and the many contributions they made to Denver.

  “Makes more sense as to why they feel they are mini celebrities,” Ophelia said begrudgingly. “I guess in some ways they are. I mean, I can’t really see what they contribute themselves, but their families are obviously very community oriented.”

  “Let’s check out Bitsie,” I said.

  Ophelia chuckled. “I don’t think her real name is Bitsie, so I’m not sure what exactly you’ll find.”

  I frowned. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her called by her real name.” I turned in my seat to face Ophelia. “What do you think Bitsie stands for?”

  Ophelia shrugged. “Could be anything. Heck, it could be a nickname because of her size. She’s not exactly a giant of a woman. Maybe when she was younger she was itty bitty and her family called her Bitsie for her size.”

  I let out a disgusted breath. “We’re gonna need to find out her real name.”

  Ophelia chuckled. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

  “I am. I don’t like the thought of sleeping next to a killer.”

  Ophelia turned serious. “Well, there is that.”

  “I’ll try and look up different versions of Bitsie tonight while you’re out flirting with men.”

  Ophelia got up from her chair. “There’s only one elf for me right now. And you have to admit, he’s a hunk of a man.”

  I laughed. “He is that. So while you’re flirting with your elf at the party tonight, I’ll do some more research while I’m sitting alone by the fireplace watching all the couples dancing and having a great time.”

  I meant it to be a joke, but it came out harsh. Obviously my jealously was rearing its ugly head.

  Ophelia frowned and hooked her arms through mine. “Do you want me to stay with you tonight? We’re only here for another day. I can blow the little elf off and be with you tonight.”

  “No! Go and have fun with him. Don’t worry about me. I was really just teasing. You know I enjoy people watching. I’ll have a couple drinks, sit by the fireplace, and watch the other couples and be completely happy.”

  “Okay,” Ophelia grinned mischievously at me. “You don’t have to twist my arm too much.”

  We strolled through the chateau, ready to head back to the condo when Ophelia and I spotted Clive standing by the fireplace talking with guests.

  “Now that we have a timeline to work with, I want to ask Clive where he was Saturday afternoon,” I said.

  Ophelia stifled a groan. “You really aren’t going to let this go until you solve this case, are you?”

  “Just a couple quick questions, I promise.”

  “Sure, it’s not like we have anything else do to.”

  �
��C’mon.” I dragged her over to stand next to Clive.

  I waited impatiently for him to finish speaking with the guests before bombarding him. “Can I ask you a couple questions?”

  Clive looked down his nose at me. “What now?”

  I was undeterred. In fact, now that I knew a little bit more about his background, I kinda understood the haughtiness he exuded. Not that I was excusing his behavior, just that I understood where it came from. “I know you told Sheriff Morgan you were working Saturday, but what time did you report to work?”

  Clive frowned. “This is your business, how?”

  “It’s really for me,” Ophelia said quickly. “I just want to make sure I had my own timeline right that I told Sheriff Morgan. I didn’t have a watch on me, so when I asked Margot what time she came in off the mountain to find you and talk with you, she said she thought it was around two.” I tried to control my face so Clive wouldn’t know that Ophelia had just told a bald-face lie. “Would that seem about right?”

  “Margot said she was with me most of the afternoon?” Clive asked confused.

  “Wasn’t she?” I asked, realizing the direction Ophelia was going with the line of questioning.

  “Well, yes. I guess. I just can’t get caught fraternizing with guests is all.”

  Was this a lie or the truth?

  “But your sister was with you the whole time, right?” I asked for clarification.

  Clive frowned. I could see the wheels turning in his head. If he said no, she wasn’t with him and Margot, then Chloe would have no alibi. If he said yes, then he ran the risk of contradicting anything Margot and Chloe may have told the sheriff.

  “I’m not quite sure,” Clive finally said.

  “Thanks,” Ophelia said and gave him a winning smile. “That little bit of information helps me with my timeline.”

  “How?” he asked.

  “Um…” Ophelia faltered.

  “I love white elephant gift exchanges,” I gushed to Clive. “Whose idea was it to do one?”

  Clive beamed at me. “Mine. Of course, I’d deny it until my last days, but I love them, too.”

  We made more small talk with Clive, steering him further and further away from anything related to the murder. A few minutes later we excused ourselves and headed for the condo.

  “Let’s walk back,” I said. “I love going the back way and looking at all the ornaments and snow.”

  “What about my car?”

  I rolled my eyes. “It’s fine where it is.”

  The air was crisp and clean as we strolled leisurely along the path that ran behind the condos and next to the skiers coming off the mountain. We greeted other guests as we passed.

  I took in a deep breath, letting the clean air fill my lungs. “Why did you ask Clive those questions?”

  Ophelia winked at me. “I was just looking to shake the tree a little…see what falls out.”

  “I’m thinking after what we found out today, that Helen is looking pretty guilty. Does it really matter if Clive was with Margot and Chloe all afternoon?”

  Ophelia didn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I say we just confront Helen and ask. It may not even be her.”

  We came to the end of the walkway and turned left to go down the side of our condo. I ran my hand over the American Holly bushes, knocking off snow as I moved. The silence was periodically broken by the sound of skiers coming down off the slopes behind us.

  A cold voice stopped us both in our tracks.

  “Did you think I wouldn’t do a background check?”

  I immediately recognized Sheriff Morgan’s hard voice. I put my hand on Ophelia’s arm to halt her movements. We leaned back into the bushes to hide the best we could, but still be able to hear what was going on. I had to wonder if he wasn’t speaking to Helen. Maybe Sheriff Morgan already knew Helen had lived in Winterdale years ago.

  “I didn’t know a good way to tell you without making me look guilty.”

  “It’s Bitsie!” I mouthed to Ophelia.

  “My finding out this way,” the sheriff said, “makes it even worse for you.”

  “Can I at least explain?”

  “Explain what? I have one Elizabeth Carpenter, alias Bitsie Carpenter, age twenty-two at the time of the offense, arrested for drunk and disorderly plus assault and battery in Laramie, Wyoming. Victim’s name was Vivian Struthers.”

  “But I was defending my friend at the time,” Bitsie said. “And it happened over fifteen years ago. The charges were dropped and I ended up doing three years of probation.”

  “What I see is a woman who lied about her violent past during a murder investigation.”

  “It’s not like that!” Bitsie cried. “Plus, I didn’t even know the guy!”

  “I’ve also been informed by witnesses that you actually do know how to ski.”

  “Who told you that?” Bitsie demanded.

  “Which also leads me to believe that you’d know what ice axes are and what they are used for.”

  “I mean, I know how to ski, kind of. But that’s not why Helen and I came here. We came for the activities and to socialize and to shop. We didn’t really care all that much about skiing.”

  “Again, Ms. Carpenter, withholding evidence in a murder investigation…not good. You and Helen will be required to remain here at the resort until this murder is solved.”

  “But we have to be back at work on Thursday!” I could hear the tears in Bitsie’s voice.

  “You’ll be back to work when I say you can leave.”

  Ophelia and I sucked in a breath as Sheriff Morgan turned on his heel and retreated to his sheriff’s vehicle. I pressed my back further into the hedges, not wanting to be seen. A few seconds later, I heard the slamming of the front door.

  “Omigod!” I said. “Did you hear that? Bitsie was arrested at twenty-two for a bunch of violent crimes!”

  Ophelia scoffed. “First off, she was basically a kid. She was only twenty-two, still in college. Second, it was probably like a bar fight or something. And let me just make a full confession here…‘there but for the grace of God go I.’ You know that about me. I was a fighter all through high school and college until I got my life under control. And third, she was obviously sticking up for her friend.”

  I looked hard at Ophelia. Truth was, Bitsie and Ophelia were a lot alike. Both were the more dominant friend, both were fighters, and both were intent on overcoming their past.

  I sighed. “I understand. Just because she may have gotten into a few altercations with the law doesn’t mean she’s bad.”

  Ophelia laughed. “That’s right. It also means she didn’t have an uncle who was a cop.”

  I laughed along with Ophelia. I knew Ophelia had been a bit of a wildcat in her younger years. She’s never told me everything, just bits and pieces.

  “It’s not to say we aren’t going to take what we just heard into account when we update your notebook tonight,” Ophelia went on. “I just think if we weigh what’s more relevant, the fact Helen may have actually lived here and knew the victim at one point is pretty damaging.”

  “Agreed.”

  We stood on the front doorstep and knocked the snow off our boots before going inside the condo. I could hear Christmas music coming from the great room and I hummed along softly. Bitsie, Helen, Margot, and Chloe were all staring at each other wearily as they huddled around the counter in the kitchen.

  “Where have you been?” Margot demanded. “Sheriff Morgan was just here.”

  “Was he looking for us?” Ophelia asked mildly.

  “No, he was looking for me,” Bitsie said.

  “And me,” Helen’s eyes filled with tears.

  “He confronted you about your past?” I asked.

  Helen’s mouth fell open and tears spilled from her eyes. “You know? How?”

  “Know what?” Chloe asked.

  Bitsie placed her hand over Helen’s and nodded encouragingly at her.

  Helen turned to Margot and Chloe. “I neve
r told you two my last name. It’s Beckett. My name is Helen Beckett.”

  CHAPTER 12

  * * *

  “Is that supposed to mean something?” Margot asked. “What are you, a celebrity of some sort?”

  Chloe squealed. “Are you on a reality show? Could you get us on?”

  I rolled my eyes at Ophelia.

  “My name is Helen Beckett, and I attended Winterdale University.” Helen eyes were blazing as she looked at Margot and Chloe. When the girls still looked blank she said, “You know, the Helen you made fun of the first night. The Helen you said was such a loser.”

  Margot and Chloe’s mouths fell open and their eyes widened.

  “No way!”

  “Impossible!”

  “This just can’t be!”

  The girls went on for a few more seconds with their incredulity. My heart ached for the humiliation Helen must have felt.

  “It’s true,” Helen murmured. “And Sheriff Morgan found out and came to confront me.” Helen suddenly turned to me. “How did you know?”

  “It was actually just an accident,” I said, hoping I could do a quick cover up. Ophelia and I didn’t want the others to know we were looking into their background and motives. “Ophelia and I went to Katie’s Café this morning, and we got to talking about the resort and how much fun we are having—outside of the murder, of course. Ophelia showed her the picture the four of us took our first night, and the lady working thought she recognized you both the day you and Bitsie came in and again when I showed her the picture. But she said you’d changed drastically.”

  Helen’s laugh was hollow. “If by drastically you mean I’ve lost about one hundred pounds, changed my hair color and style, and pretty much changed everything about my old life, then yes. I’ve changed drastically.”

  Margot sucked in a breath. “If you were that pathetic girl who used to stalk us on campus, then that means you knew Andrew! You knew who he was the whole time!”

  “Did you kill him?” Chloe asked, clutching her throat with her hand.

  “Of course not!” Helen emphatically denied.