Cozy Christmas Murder

by Summer Prescott

“Eleven, twelve, close enough,” Vanessa replied, totally disrespecting her mother.

  “Can we get this over with? I’d like to get back to bed,” Robert Jr. complained.

  “What is wrong with you people? Dad is dead and none of you care! You would think that you would be doing whatever you could to help find out what happened to him. You’re all self-centered and I don’t want anything more to do with any of you,” Kimberly Ann cried out, jumping out of her chair and running from the room.

  Miss Lottie ran out of the room after the distraught girl. As she was going up the stairs, the doorbell rang. She stopped to see who it was. Timmer answered the door and in walked Angie Simmons.

  “I’m here to see Patricia,” she stated.

  “I’m afraid Miss Patricia is busy at the moment,” Timmer announced.

  “It’s okay, let Miss Simmons in,” Adams said, walking to the front door. “We need to collect her fingerprints as well.”

  “Fingerprints?” she asked.

  “Yes, you are always in the house visiting the family. We need to exclude your prints from the crime scene,” Adams answered, taking the woman’s elbow and directing her into the dining room.

  Patricia looked up as Angie entered the room. They ran to each other, hugging and crying. Adams let them have a few minutes.

  If she only knew what a sleazebag she has for a best friend, thought Lottie, her stomach churning as she watched the two women hugging. Two-faced witch.

  Robert Jr. looked over and smirked. Lottie wanted to slap him, but she held her composure. Adams escorted the neighbor to the machine and she was printed.

  “That was easy,” she commented.

  “Not to rush you, but we have some business with the police that needs to be addressed,” Patricia said to Angie. “Can you come back for cocktails around four?”

  “I’ll be here. You hang in there, hon,” she answered. “I’ll see everyone later.”

  I bet that has a double meaning.

  “Miss Lottie, you can leave now. This pertains to the family of which you are not,” Robert Jr. grumbled.

  “Robert! I am so sorry Lottie,” Patricia apologized. “My children seem to have lost their manners in all this.”

  “That’s fine, ma’am. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me,” Miss Lottie said, staring at Robert Jr. as if to tell him that she wasn’t afraid of him.

  “They lost their manners a long time ago. It’s too bad that Patricia overlooks their shortcomings,” thought Lottie as she exited the room.

  The elderly woman pulled up a chair next to the dining room door. She wanted to hear what was being said by the police. Timmer walked by her and smiled.

  “First off, I want you to know that all the family finances and phone records have been subpoenaed and pulled for the last three months and are being gone over. We are looking for motives for Mr. Bellington’s death.”

  “Can they do that, Mom?” Vanessa asked.

  “We can and we did,” Adams answered. “We also pulled copies of Mr. Bellington’s will and any active insurance policies he owned.”

  “All those documents were in the safe and stolen,” Patricia stated.

  “The attorneys and insurance companies have copies of everything on file,” Adams stated. “Patricia, did you know that your husband had four rather substantial policies in you and your children’s names?”

  “Yes, I knew that,” she replied. “A ten-million-dollar policy in my name and a three-million-dollar policy in each of the children’s names.”

  “Seriously?” Robert Jr. asked, now paying attention to the conversation.

  “Why would I care about a policy for only ten million when if something happened to Robert everything was left to me, and we are talking billions here,” Patricia snapped.

  “Obviously, you haven’t seen your husband’s latest will?”

  “And what is that supposed to mean?”

  “Your husband’s latest will, dated eight months ago, names Kimberly Ann as the executor. Everything reverts to her name and she is free to decide who gets what right down to the last penny,” Adams informed them.

  You could have heard a pin drop in the room. Robert Jr. and Vanessa looked at each other and then glared at Kimberly Ann who sat in the corner of the room.

  “Let me see that,” Patricia ordered, snatching the document from Adams’s hand. “How could he do this to me, to us?”

  “We’ll contest the will in court!” exclaimed Robert Jr..

  “You can try, but it states that if any of you contest the will or the disbursement of the property or funds, you will automatically get nothing,” Adams replied.

  “You sneaky little… you knew about this, didn’t you?” accused Robert Jr., getting up out of his chair.

  “Sit down,” Adams ordered.

  “Did you know that your father had changed his will?” the detective asked Kimberly Ann.

  “No, sir, I had no idea,” she answered meekly.

  “You’re a liar!” Vanessa screamed. “You probably killed Father for his money.”

  “I did not. I don’t care about the money and I never have,” she screamed, standing up and running from the dining room.

  “You won’t get away with this,” Robert Jr. screamed.

  “Now, I really have a migraine coming on,” Patricia insisted. “Are we done here?”

  “I have a couple more things,” Adams replied.

  “Mrs. Bellington, in the last month there has been large amounts of money withdrawn from your personal account every Monday. Can you please explain this?”

  “I go shopping on Mondays,” she answered flatly.

  “Mr. Bellington, your phone records show that you have called your neighbor, Angie Simmons, over forty times in the last two months. Are you seeing this woman?”

  Robert Jr.’s face told the whole picture.

  “Oh, geez, no. I think from this point on, any questions that need to be addressed to myself or my children can be handled by our attorneys. It’s time for you to leave, Mr. Adams,” Patricia commanded, pointing towards the front door. “Timmer! Show Detective Adams out.”

  “Okay, but at some point, these questions will have to be answered. Whether you answer them here in the privacy of your own home or down at the police station is up to you,” he stated, picking up his papers off the table. “One more thing before I go. Did Mr. Bellington wear a wedding ring?”

  “Yes, he did. We had matching rings,” Patricia answered, still angry. “Why?”

  “There was no ring on the body and we saw an indent where the ring should have been. Did he have a habit of taking it off?”

  “TIMMER!”

  “I’m leaving, but I will be back. Good day.”

  Miss Lottie stood up and quickly moved to the kitchen. Timmer came back to the kitchen after letting Adams out the door.

  “That was exciting,” he whispered to Lottie. “Did you know Robert Jr. was seeing Angie Simmons?”

  Before she could answer, more yelling erupted from the dining room.

  “I can’t believe you are seeing Angie Simmons. She is old enough to be your mother,” Patricia yelled. “And right under our noses.”

  “There’s nothing wrong with us seeing each other,” he screamed back.

  “Then why did you hide it all this time?” Patricia questioned. “You are just like your father, in more ways than I care to acknowledge.”

  “I think that’s a compliment,” Robert Jr. said, smugly.

  “Don’t get smart with me, you miserable excuse for a man,” Patricia screamed. “Get out of my sight. You disgust me just like your father disgusted me.”

  “Mother!” Vanessa said.

  “Vanessa, just leave me alone. I’m going to my room to try to sort all this out. I don’t want to see either of you for the rest of the day,” she ordered.

  “I wonder what she meant by that,” Timmer whispered. “I guess they weren’t as happy as they seemed to be.”

  “I guess not,” Lottie
agreed. “I’m going to check on Kimberly Ann.”

  The youngest daughter was on her bed crying. Miss Lottie sat on the edge of the bed and called her name.

  “Kimberly Ann, don’t let them get to you,” she advised.

  “How can they act that way and say such awful things? I loved my Dad,” she sobbed.

  “Between you and me, and I’ll deny I ever said this, both your brother and sister thought they had an easy way to all the money they wanted with your dad gone. Your mother is a pushover when it comes to her children and they thought they had it made,” Miss Lottie replied. “I think your dad knew that and that’s why he put you in charge of everything.”

  “Do you think that one of them killed father? What if they try to kill me next?” she asked, her eyes growing wide at the thought.

  “I don’t think they did, but I have my suspicions who did,” the housekeeper said, patting her hand. “I don’t think that you are in any danger.”

  “I didn’t ask for any of this. I was happy at school studying music. Now, I may have to run a big corporation? I don’t want to,” she sighed. “I know so little about computers. I can get on social media, but not much more.”

  “Let’s not worry about that now. Rest and I’ll see you at dinner,” Miss Lottie advised.

  Coming down the stairs, the housekeeper saw Patricia Bellington out the front windows, heading in the direction of Angie Simmons’ house.

  Oh, this can’t be good.

  An hour later, Patricia came home and went right up to her room. She called down on the intercom and requested dinner be served to her there. Robert Jr. had left the house after the meeting with the detective and Vanessa was holed up in her room, not speaking to anyone.

  Kimberly Ann was sitting alone at the table when Timmer and Miss Lottie served dinner. The housekeeper had the chef fix her favorite dinner to try to cheer the young girl up. All she did was push the food around on her plate.

  “You have to eat something,” said the kindly housekeeper.

  “I’m not hungry,” she sighed.

  “Don’t let them get to you, Miss Kimberly,” Timmer whispered as he passed by her picking up the extra unused plates.

  “I’m trying,” she answered. “Miss Lottie, what am I going to do with my dad’s Christmas present? I know it’s a weird thing to be thinking of right now, but I can’t help it.”

  “Can you return it to the store you purchased it from?” Miss Lottie asked.

  “No. It’s a season ticket to the summer community theatre here in Bellows. I bought one for him and one for myself, so we could go and enjoy the musicals together,” she sighed.

  “You just hold onto them. Maybe, later you will feel like going to a show. And who knows, maybe you will have found someone special to go with you by then,” Miss Lottie assured her.

  “I think I’ll go to my room. I’ll see everyone in the morning,” Kimberly Ann said, pushing her plate away.

  It was seven o’clock when Timmer finally went home after retrieving the other family members’ dishes from their rooms. The rest of the staff had left earlier, so Miss Lottie was finishing the last of the clean-up in the kitchen.

  She sat down at the granite island to rest, sipping her tea and looking out the window. A dark figure moving across the backyard away from the house caught her eye. Dropping her teacup, she hustled out the back door to follow whoever it was.

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  Miss Lottie stayed as close as she dared. She still couldn’t make out who she was following or where they were heading. She was so intent on what she was doing that she didn’t see the hole in front of her. One foot went in and she fell, twisting her ankle and letting out a small yelp as she went down.

  The figure stopped and listened. Miss Lottie held her breath, so she wouldn’t make any additional noise. The figure turned and headed right for her.

  “Who’s there?” Patricia Bellington inquired.

  “It’s me, Lottie. I fell in the dark,” the housekeeper answered, recognizing the voice calling out to her.

  “What are you doing out here?” Patricia asked, kneeling next to Lottie.

  “I saw someone lurking in the backyard and after what happened to Mr. Bellington, I thought I’d find out who it was,” Lottie replied. “But, I have hurt my ankle stepping in a hole.”

  “Let me go and get James to help you back into the house,” Patricia offered.

  “Thank you, I’ll wait right here.”

  The housekeeper watched Patricia hurry to the garage and go up the stairs to James’ apartment. They talked for a minute and then he got his coat and followed her down the stairs.

  “Got yourself in a little pickle, have you?” he asked as he easily picked up the elderly woman. “Don’t you think it’s dangerous to be walking around alone in the dark?”

  “I saw someone and was trying to protect the family,” she responded. “I didn’t know it was Mrs. Bellington. I thought she was in her room for the evening.”

  “I thought I saw Robert Jr. leave the house and I was following him to see if he went to Angie’s house,” Patricia admitted.

  They entered the kitchen and James set Miss Lottie down in a chair. He put some ice in a plastic bag and gently laid it on her swollen ankle.

  “How’s that?” Patricia asked.

  “Fine, it will be good as new by morning. James, can you help me up to my room, please?”

  “Let’s go, lovely lady,” James said, picking her up again. “Hold on to your ice bag.”

  “Call me if you need anything at all,” Patricia insisted. “Get into bed and keep your foot propped up on pillows.”

  “I will.”

  “Thank you, James,” Patricia said, smiling at the chauffeur.

  He smiled, and his eyes twinkled as he looked at her. Miss Lottie noticed that the look was a little more special than a look an employee would give to his employer. She decided to keep her eyes open as there was obviously more going on in this house than she ever suspected.

  “Do you need anything else before I leave, Miss Lottie?” James asked.

  She was going to confront him on the look, but decided to let it ride. If they didn’t know that she suspected something, it would be easier for her to snoop around.

  “Thank you, James, I’m fine,” she answered, gingerly placing her ankle on the pillows that James had propped up for her.

  “I will see you tomorrow. Please take it easy tonight,” he insisted.

  James left, and the housekeeper hobbled to the balcony doors, standing in front of the wall to the side of the French doors so she wouldn’t be seen, but so she could see the backyard and the garage where James lived.

  Five minutes later, two figures ran across the backyard and up the stairs to James’ apartment and disappeared inside.

  This is getting interesting.

  She entered her bathroom, changed her clothes and crawled into bed placing a pile of pillows under her foot. She shut out the lights and fell asleep, too tired to see when Patricia Bellington returned to the main house.

  The next morning, the swelling on Miss Lottie’s ankle was gone. It was still tender to walk on and she had to remind herself to take it easy. Patricia avoided her most of the day. The housekeeper couldn’t figure out if it was a guilty conscience for getting caught on the way to the garage or if she was truly busy with the holidays.

  It was decided by a family vote the next afternoon at lunch that the annual Christmas Eve party would still take place. It was too close to cancel the event and they would hold it in Robert Bellington’s honor.

  It was also decided by family vote that Robert’s service would be held two days after Christmas. He would be cremated as he wished and a private service, for only a small number of people, would be held on the family estate.

  The actual service would be held where Robert loved to be the most when home. Several of his antique cars would be moved to one of the other garages and an area set up in amongst the remaining ca
rs for the service. Kimberly Ann was put in charge of her dad’s service as none of the others showed much interest in making it happen.

  “What has happened to this family?” thought Miss Lottie, watching them bicker over how much money to spend on her employer’s service. “What do they care? They have billions. Are they that selfish that they can’t honor the man who gave them everything?”

  “Kimberly Ann, I need some money to go shopping. I need to buy a new outfit for the Christmas Eve party,” Vanessa said, standing up, bored with the meeting.

  “Let’s make something clear,” Patricia piped up. “I am still in charge of the money around here and don’t forget it. Nothing has changed yet, and if I have my way, it never will.”

  “So, can I have some money?” Vanessa requested.

  “You might as well spend it before someone else does,” Robert Jr. mumbled.

  “You’ll have to take one of my credit cards. All the cash was stolen out of the safe and I haven’t had a chance to replace it yet,” Patricia answered.

  “Listen to all of you,” Miss Lottie blurted out. “Don’t any of you care that Robert was murdered in this house not a week ago? What a bunch of hypocrites. You are throwing a party in his honor, but you really don’t care about the man himself at all; you only care about the money he left behind.”

  The room went silent as they all turned to stare at the long-time housekeeper standing there holding a stack of dirty dishes.

  “See Mom, I told you she had to go,” Robert Jr. muttered.

  “The nerve…” Vanessa stated.

  “Not another word, any of you,” Patricia directed. “Miss Lottie, I will see you in the study, now.”

  The housekeeper dropped the dishes in the kitchen and walked slowly to the study. She entered to find Patricia sitting behind Robert’s desk, a place she had never been allowed to occupy before.

  “You wanted to see me?” Lottie asked.

  “There are a lot of things that go on around this household that you are not aware of; things that Robert kept from you all these years. He was not the upstanding man that you thought he was and unfortunately, Robert Jr. takes right after him,” Patricia started to explain.