Christmas Caper

by Jennifer Oberth

  “That’s who I’ve been dancing with.” Doris let out a light laugh.

  “You have?”

  “Apparently. You’re the one who wanted to pretend the man was still with us.”

  “I had no idea you’d be spotted dancing the night away with him.”

  “How much fun I must be having. He really does care, doesn’t he?”

  “I think Oscar is past caring.”

  “Not Oscar, Ness. Ness is jealous but more than that, he doesn’t want me making bad choices because he cares I don’t get hurt.” She turned to me, eyeing me. “Is he like that with everyone?”

  I knew what she was asking, what she was fishing for. “Ness cares about everyone, dear, even criminals.” My stomach clenched as Doris’s pretty face lost a certain light; it didn’t suit her at all. I sighed. “But no, Doris. He’s not like he is with you with anyone else. Not that I’ve ever witnessed.”

  Doris smiled smugly, the light, the hope, and the amusement back in their rightful place.

  I turned my attention to Mr. Waters, and my shoulders drooped in annoyance. Standing in his pristine charcoal suit, his striking emerald cravat setting off his soft, brown eyes, he spoke to three men. I couldn’t wait to question him—the group of four men could turn into eight in the blink of an eye. Then they could move off to play poker or disappear elsewhere in the house. It would be ideal if I had the opportunity to grab him alone in the corner of an uncrowded room.

  “Want me to distract those men?” Doris had followed my gaze and identified the problem.

  “Can you do it?” Even as the words flowed from my mouth I realized I’d wasted my breath.

  Doris, in turn, wasted a good, long-suffering look and, without another word, moved to the men.

  I watched as she inserted herself in the middle of the group, reaching through them to snatch a cookie. It was a gingerbread man. All of a sudden, she giggled loudly, going so far as to place a hand to her bosom and throw her head back, letting blond strands dance across her shoulders. The four men smiled in return. She focused on one and the next thing I knew, the three men I wanted gone were gone.

  I scooted over to James Waters as fast as I could. I also reached to get a cookie, though, unlike Doris, I stopped before grabbing one. “Mr. Waters,” I said, as though I’d just noticed him there.

  “Mrs. Westin. How do you do?”

  “I’m well, thank you. How is business?” I studied his face, and it clouded just a touch.

  “Fine,” he lied, glancing behind me to the dance floor. I wasn’t sure if he was purposely avoiding me or just plain wasn’t interested in me.

  “Oscar tells me he’s considering going into business with you.”

  Mr. Waters’s head snapped down to take me in. “He did?” Brown eyes flashed as he squinted at me. “When?”

  Did the man want to know when because he’d go in for the kill, thinking he’d finally swayed Oscar? Or did he want to know when because he knew Oscar was dead and wondered how he could be speaking to me?

  I waved a casual hand at the dance floor. “Earlier.”

  “You’ve seen him? So he is here. Where is he? I want to finalize this deal. I have many others interested, you know. I’m doing him a favor, but it’s like he’s avoiding me.” His head darted from side to side as he took in the room.

  “Maybe Hope has something to do with that. I understand she’s not in favor of branching out at this time.”

  “It’s his business what he does, not hers,” he snapped.

  “Not when you’re married.”

  “That was his mistake to make, not mine.”

  He was a real charmer. “Well, I have it on good authority Hope is the one getting the raw end of the deal.”

  “I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Which meant he knew exactly what I was talking about, but I didn’t have to say anything else.

  He stuck his bulbous nose in the air. “I’m not going to stand here and gossip about my business partner’s wife to the daughter of a pirate. Even if there is a lot to gossip about.”

  If he thought the insult would bother me enough to leave him alone, he didn’t understand my personality at all. Calling me the daughter of a pirate? I went in for the kill. “He’s not your business partner, though, is he, Mr. Waters?”

  “He will be if I can get my hands on him.” He glanced around again, looking about to leave.

  “Anyway, I hear it’s Oscar who’s filling the town’s gossip-mongers’ tales, not poor Hope.”

  Huffing a noisy breath that smelled of chocolate, he rolled his brown eyes. “I’m certainly not going to blather on about my business partner—and he is my business partner, Mrs. Westin. If you’ll excuse me.”

  Before I could think up a way to stop his departure, Hope and Seth joined us.

  Hope looked down her nose at me, but the sadness shining in her watery blue eyes belied any offense. She was attempting to hold her head up high while her world crumbled around her. “Goodnight, Ella,” she said, her voice strong. “Seth is going to take me home.” Turning her attention to Mr. Waters, she added, “He, at least, is a gentleman.” She glared at Mr. Waters, and it was offensive, not that I blamed her one bit.

  Before Waters could retort—and the flame rising from his cheeks told me insults were forming—Seth spoke calmly to Hope. “We really should tell Oscar you’re leaving.”

  “That isn’t necessary,” Hope ground out.

  Waters pinned Seth with a stare. “Where is Oscar? I haven’t seen him all evening, and I must speak with him.”

  Seth shrugged. “Last I heard he was playing poker with Captain Westin, Mr. Stoker, Mr. Peabody, and the others.”

  Waters tugged at his emerald green cravat, gaping at Seth.

  Hope squeezed her eyes shut, muttering, “He has the nerve to play poker when my life is falling apart?”

  Seth adjusted his glasses, peering over his shoulder, raking his eyes across the ballroom.

  “If you’ll excuse me.” Waters whipped past us and out the door.

  Doris took off after him.

  “Don’t leave yet,” I said to Hope and Seth before following Doris.

  “She’s right,” I heard Hope say. “We should bid a good evening to Captain Westin.”

  The couple kept pace with me, and we caught up with Doris and Waters outside the grand parlor. Steeling myself to face Jasper and the other rich men about town, I followed Doris and Waters inside.

  Warmth, both from the fire and the camaraderie of the men at the poker table, spread over me. The chink of coins tossed in the pot faded beneath the chatting, laughing men, murmurs of a dozen onlookers rising along with sharp intakes of breath.

  “Give me two, please, Barnaby,” Jasper said, tossing the same number of cards face down on the oak table.

  Barnaby took a great deal of time counting two cards and passing them over.

  “Joe?” Peabody slurred.

  Joe stared at his hand. Unfortunately, there were no cards in it. “I’d like a three, pleash.”

  Doris whispered to me, “At least he’s a polite drunk.”

  There was that.

  Like a cautious tiger, Waters circled the poker table, studying each man with an icy glare. Finally, his face growing redder, he shouted, “Where is Oscar Cryer?”

  “Cryer?” Peabody blew a hearty breath past his lips, making an inappropriate noise on the way out. “Great poker player.” His head bobbed up and down, red-rimmed eyes mere slits. “Took me fer…” He blew another, softer breath. “Twenty, I think.”

  “Took me for thirty,” Jasper said.

  Joe nodded, almost banging his head onto the table. “Took me for ten,” he said before his eyes fell shut and he began snoring.

  Horrified, I moved forward, but Doris stopped me, shaking her head. “Doris, this is ridiculous.”

  She placed a finger to her lips and nodded her head toward Waters.

  Glacial eyes now blazed fire.

 
; Was he so upset because a man he’d killed was enjoying himself at a Christmas party? Or disgruntled because he’d failed? “What’s the matter?” I asked, drawing his attention.

  Tilting his head toward the players, he spit out, “That man owes me money, and now I find out he’s playing poker? Poker!”

  “And winning,” Jasper threw in for good measure.

  Waters growled. “I’m getting my money before he throws it at some harlot.”

  Hope gasped, and Seth shook his finger at Waters, about to launch into a tirade of his own, but the man swung around, stomping toward the door.

  Doris and I were about to give chase when another group of men burst into the room. Waters froze, and I watched him scrutinize each man’s face. When he satisfied himself that Oscar Cryer wasn’t among them, he began pushing through the throng of men, but there were too many people and we were all pushed deeper into the noisy room.

  Doris and I were shorter than most of the men, and I admit it was a bit suffocating. I couldn’t keep Waters in sight, though I knew he was determined to exit the room in search of Oscar. Doris and I made it to the door, but suddenly the puffed sleeve of my dress ripped from its seam at my shoulder. Pressure hurt my arm, and I clutched it, but not in time to save Doris. She tumbled, landing in an ungracious heap at my feet. The men kept sweeping in. Unable to keep balanced, I lurched and tripped over her.

  Luckily, I didn’t fall, though I leaned hard on a twisted ankle. My concern for Doris—who wasn’t moving—outweighed concern for my own well being. The crowd thinned out, and a man’s shout made me cringe.

  I glanced up to see Ness slide on his knees and grasp Doris’s hand gently. “What happened?” he demanded.

  By the bruise already forming around her left eye, I guessed she’d taken an elbow to the face. I could see her draw breath, but she didn’t stir, even as Ness patted her pale hand. “Let’s get her upstairs,” I hissed in anger.

  Placing gentle hands under Doris’s shoulders, Ness scooped her up, slipping an arm under her knees and cradling her against his abdomen, her purple satin dress crushed against his form.

  A few stragglers saw what was happening and offered assistance.

  “Open that door!” Ness barked. He carried Doris out and up the stairs, and I followed as fast as I could, picking up one of the purple slippers that had fallen from her foot. I wanted to examine her in Annie’s room, but how could I get rid of Ness?

  At the top of the landing, Chris spotted us. He started to dash forward but stopped and checked the hallway—an excellent guard. We were all trained well. What if this was a diversion orchestrated to remove the guard from Annie’s door?

  Could I use that as an excuse to station Ness outside the room and not come in? If Ness or Chris spotted the dead Oscar Cryer in Annie’s bed, I didn’t want to think how the rest of the evening would go. Not to mention Jasper’s party being ruined when I was perfectly capable of handling things myself—and without spoiling the old goat’s Christmas, I might add. The fact his daughter had been knocked out at said Christmas party was not my fault.

  “Oh, hello, Chris!” I shouted, halting our progress.

  Ness grunted at the sudden stop before urging me forward. “Come on, Ella. Let’s get her inside.”

  Doris’s eyes remained firmly shut, and I wasn’t sure how to proceed. “Of course!” I called out. “We need to get into Annie’s room, don’t we? All of us!”

  Neither Ness nor Chris seemed at all alarmed by my shouts.

  “Wait, I think she’s waking up,” I lied.

  Ness craned his head down while Chris brushed strands of golden hair from Doris’s cheek. Her chignon did not hold up to the mistreatment she’d received.

  “She is not, Ella,” Ness growled. “Quick. Let’s go.”

  Chris knocked hard on Annie’s door. It opened, and Ness stalked in before I could say or do anything. The knot in my gut tightened, and I froze in place, squeezing Doris’s slipper still in my hand, waiting for the scene in the bedroom to cause Ness and Chris to panic.

  “Ella.”

  I heard someone call my name as though from afar. Stumbling inside, I took in the empty bedroom, save a flushed Annie and wild-eyed Copra in the corner, fear splashed across their faces.

  “Here, allow me.” Chris cradled Doris’s legs, taking care to keep the violet, satin material wrapped around them. He and Ness gently laid her on the bed. I glanced around frantically, trying not to be obvious I was glancing around frantically. I’m sure I failed, but it didn’t matter because Chris and Ness were so focused on Doris.

  As they should be.

  But where was the dead body?

  I studied Annie and Copra, as they appeared deceptively calm—though Annie was quirking her head at me, the door, and then the men. Suddenly, an idea struck. “I’m sorry, Ness, Chris, but you’ll have to leave.”

  “Leave? Why?” Ness turned to me, agitation written over his entire being. “No, no, no. Not until I know she’s all right.”

  “You will have to leave and right now. Copra, I’m afraid you will have to leave as well. Annie and I may have to undress Doris.”

  The three men backed up, Ness still staring at Doris, Chris fumbling for the door, and Copra wrinkling his nose at me, looking quite put out.

  “We’ll be right outside the door, Ella. Please, let me know the moment I can come back in.”

  “Of course, boss,” I said.

  The second the door shut, Doris popped up on the bed. “No one is touching my dress.” She patted her skirts down, smoothing the wrinkles. “Look at what you’ve done, Ella.”

  “Me?” I stared at my sister-in-law, who’d been unconscious seconds ago. Annie breathed a sigh of relief, her hand flying to her chest. Wiping an exposed arm across my forehead, steadying my nerves, I realized I’d been holding my breath, too. Doris looked a little worse for wear, but she was focused and livid. I took that as a good sign for a speedy recovery, though that eye would be black and blue before morning.

  “What happened?” Annie asked in a light voice.

  Still elated that Doris was already up and about, I shoved Doris’s slipper at her. “Before we get into that, where’s Oscar?”

  “Oh, when we heard you shouting, Copra and I stuffed him in the wardrobe.”

  “Good thinking.”

  Doris paled as she glanced across the room, shifting to the farther side of the bed. “And I thought I considered strange things as par for the course. Do you do this all the time, Ella?”

  “Me? I didn’t stuff him in the wardrobe.” Though I hadn’t blinked when Annie declared she and Copra had.

  “Don’t forget about Roland Graves and who knows how many others. Mrs. Westin is a force to be reckoned with. An inspiration.” Annie hovered over Doris, holding the back of one hand on Doris’s cheek before switching to the other. “Nearly frightened us half to death when we figured out other people would be coming into our room. We had no idea Doris was injured. What happened?”

  Doris propped herself up, gingerly touching her eye. “Someone punched me with an elbow.”

  “It was a crowded room,” I explained.

  “It was deliberate.”

  Annie gasped. “Who did it?”

  Doris let out a shaky breath. “That, I’m not sure. I blacked out for a few seconds. It was surprising, and I was unprepared for such an action. I let Ness and Ella carry me up here so the guilty party would think they’d done more damage than they had.”

  “You mean you weren’t…you were conscious the whole time?” I asked.

  “Of course.”

  I was impressed at her quick thinking. “It could have been James Waters, Seth Cryer, or even Hope Cryer.”

  “Or someone else entirely,” Annie added, always of help. “Your dress!” she cried, launching off the bed and fiddling with my sleeve.

  “How are we going to sort this out, Ella? Two of our six suspects aren’t even here.”

  “What six suspects?” Annie asked, grabbin
g a sewing kit from a drawer.

  I scowled at Doris for making me list them out. “Hope Cryer, the victim’s wife; Seth Cryer, the victim’s brother; James Waters, the victim’s potential business partner; Mary, the maid…” I paused as if needing more breath. “And Nora Copra and Copra.”

  Annie “ugghed” like I’ve heard three-year-olds do when confronted by something incredibly obvious to them. “I’ve already told you, Ella—Copra and his mother didn’t do this.” She began pinning my sleeve back to the dress.

  Doris smoothed her own dress again, taking more care this time, speaking in slow, measured tones. “We can’t rule someone out because you like them or empathize with their life’s struggles. Besides…” Doris tilted her head, scrutinizing me. “It’s up to Ella to unravel this. I don’t solve murders.”

  Annie glanced from me to Doris and back again, carefully balancing pins at the edges of her lips.

  “No,” I said, trying to match Doris’s calm voice. “You steal things.”

  “I’ve met many a murderer, Ella—before and after they became a killer. That doesn’t mean I have much experience ferreting one out.”

  “She’s right.” Annie spoke around the pins between her lips. “It’s up to you, Ella.”

  They stared at me as though I were expected to magically conjure up the perfect plan to not only expose the killer but make them confess. I needed evidence, too. Catching a murderer was merely one piece of a very convoluted pie. There was no point in arresting someone if the courts would simply release them, or worse, if there was no evidence for a court to even bring the prisoner up on charges. I couldn’t will a plan into existence!

  My eyes dropped to the nightstand, and I huffed in sheer frustration, taking my anger out on Annie instead of turning it inward. “You left Oscar’s glasses, Annie.”

  Finishing her task at my sleeve, she whirled, her blue skirts flapping around her.

  “His glasses, Annie.” I waved frantically, my sleeve staying in place. “What if Ness caught that? What if Chris recognized them?”

  Annie snatched the glasses and pressed them to her bosom as though hiding them then and there.

  “It’s too late.” I sighed and sank onto the bed, near Doris’s feet.