Gemma smiled. “I want to do something for that family by Christmas. Not toys. God knows they don’t need toys, but something.”
“I know they’d appreciate it,” he said to her. “And I meant what I said. As soon as all of this is over, I want to take you to someplace nice.”
“I’d like that,” Gemma said, smiling up at him. “I really would.”
“Good. Now let me see what Grady Jackson has for me and then I need to get back to detecting,” he said. “Santa isn’t my only case, you know.”
“Ah, but solving Santa’s murder might be your biggest case ever,” Gemma teased.
“We’ll see,” he said, and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. The tender gesture surprised her.
Gemma stood there watching him walk away, thinking that she hadn’t felt this excited by someone of the opposite sex for a long time. Nick was wonderful, sweet and kind but she’d known him all of her life. He was more like a best friend than a boyfriend and would always be a huge part of her life.
But Ross Ferguson certainly had her attention, she thought, touching her face where his warm fingers had been.
Chapter Ten
“Now who’s grinning from ear to ear?” Holly whispered when Gemma returned to their kiosk.
“Hush,” Gemma said, blushing at her friend’s teasing.
“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a while.”
“He’s a nice man. We had lunch. We talked.”
“About who killed Santa?” Holly guessed.
“Mostly.”
“Gemma, why are you so wound up in this?”
Gemma sighed. She’d been asking herself that question over and over during the past few hours. “He was my responsibility,” she finally said with tears in her eyes.
“What?”
“I found him. Dad always said that when someone hands you a problem, whether it’s yours or not, you stick with it until it’s fixed or solved. I feel like since I found him, I need to make sure we find out who killed him,” Gemma explained to her life-long friend.
She finally saw understanding dawning in Holly’s eyes.
“Your dad was a good guy,” Holly said.
“He was,” Gemma said, struggling not to cry at the mention of her father.
“He taught you well,” she said, reaching out to squeeze Gemma’s hand.
“Gemma, are you okay?” It was Nick, his handsome face filled with concern.
At the sight of him, Gemma did burst into tears and within seconds she was in the safe haven of his strong arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed quietly as he held her, brushing his fingers through her hair. He murmured to her softly until she calmed down, like he had done a hundred times in the last few months.
Gemma managed to pull herself together after just a few minutes. She hated creating a scene there in public and was thankful that there were no shoppers nearby. Still sniffing and wiping her eyes, she looked up to see Detective Ross Ferguson standing nearby, watching closely. When he seemed satisfied that she was okay, he gave her a little nod and then turned and walked away.
The next couple of days there were no developments in the case. Holly, Gemma and Brenda settled into a schedule that seemed to work well for all of them and their jewelry was growing more popular by the day, especially the heart rate monitor. The fact that their kiosk was right down from the gym helped with that.
The day of Santa’s funeral (and Gemma could not help but think of Sam McLear as Santa) dawned bright and clear with snow still sticking to the ground. It was at ten in the morning and she traded shifts with Holly and her mom so she could attend.
“You’re going to the funeral?” Holly had asked the night before, looking surprised.
Gemma nodded.
“Honey, you couldn’t even attend Mr. Pursey’s funeral,” Holly reminded her.
It was true. Holly’s cat had died not long after she’d buried her parents. She practically broke out in hives at the thought of attending that simple service in Holly’s back yard.
“Well, I want to make sure Mrs. McLear and the children are okay,” Gemma explained.
“And you want to see if whoever killed him shows up,” Holly said.
“Yeah, well, there’s that,” Gemma confessed.
“But you’re not going to do anything about that, are you.” It was a statement, not a question and Holly’s stern look made her look more like her mother every day.
“No, ma’am,” Gemma promised.
“My real question is, are you sure you’re up to this and do you want some company?” Holly asked.
Gemma assured her friend that she could handle the funeral home, but maybe not the funeral. She was going to try, though, and she would be fine on her own.
She thought about that conversation as she dressed for the day. Not wanting to dress all in black, Gemma added a dark green sweater to her black slacks and pulled on her favorite high heeled boots.
“And I’m sure Ross will be there as well,” she said to herself in the mirror. The thought made her feel braver.
Gemma applied her make-up carefully, brushed her red gold hair until it glistened and then ended up tying the unruly curls back with a scrunchie. “Am I the only girl in town who would go to a funeral home trying to look nice in case I see that handsome detective again?” she asked her reflection.
The girl - no, the woman - in the mirror didn’t know.
Gemma didn’t have to be directed to the room where Santa was laid to rest. All she had to do was follow the line of women and the sound of soft weeping that spilled out into the hall. Rosalie stood nearby the casket with an older woman on either side of her. Gemma guessed they were her mother and ex mother-in-law. She had to keep reminding herself that they were divorced. The children, dressed in clean clothing played quietly on a seat nearby. They were probably too young to even understand what was going on.
The line to view Sam’s casket was long, which would give her plenty of time to survey the crowd without seeming too obvious. Mostly she saw women, old and young, all sizes and shapes, and they seemed to be taking Sam’s death harder than Rosalie.
“See anyone you recognize?” It was Ross, his rumbling voice right at her ear.
Gemma yelped in surprise and then clapped both hands over her mouth when she noticed several of the other ladies glaring at her. “You scared me,” she hissed.
“I like scaring you,” Ross teased.
“I’m guessing you’re just here to pay your respects,” he said as they moved forward together a few feet.
“”Of course,” Gemma assured him. “Just like you.”
“I’m here doing my job,” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back as he moved in close behind her. “Now, do you see anyone you recognize?”
Gemma scanned the crowd, trying to ignore the heat spreading outward from his fingers. “Grady Jackson near the back of the room,” she reported.
“I think he’s here trying to do my job,” Ross told her. “Anyone else?”
“Lots and lots of women,” Gemma said.
“No Bill or Edna Chambers?” he asked.
Gemma shook her head. “None of the elves from Santa Land either.”
“Good job,” he whispered.
Gemma felt pretty proud of herself.
“So it looks like this might have been a waste of my time,” he whispered.
“Not really. I have something I forgot to tell you at lunch the other day,” Gemma said as they moved forward again, inching closer and closer to that casket. She did everything she could not to look at it or think about what lay ahead.
“Oh, yeah?” Ross asked, leaning in closer, his hand on her waist now.
Gemma nodded and smiled at the little girl who had almost found her step-father strangled to death in his Santa costume. “The day Santa, Sam, was killed, Bill told me Edna stayed home because she was under the weather.”
“She always looks a little frail and just tired to me,” Ross said.
“But when
I spoke with her the next day and asked how she was feeling, she said she’d never been sick. That Bill insisted she stay at home,” Gemma said, glancing up to see Ross’s reaction.
He was smiling down at her, the little lines beside his eyes deepening, making him look even more attractive. “Good work, Deputy Stone.”
“I thought you’d be interested to know that. I certainly was,” she said.
The casket was just about ten feet away by this time. The line was getting shorter. Every once in a while some woman would wail and fall into a faint, only to be rescued by her friends and frowned upon by the other ladies in the room.
“I need to ask you something while we’re comparing notes,” he said.
“Ask away,” Gemma said, her heart pounding harder as they stepped closer to the casket.
“Why wasn’t the shoplifting reported to the police?”
The question brought her up short and she looked at him again. “We were told it would be, in due time.”
“Who told you this?”
“Grady Jackson.”
“Really?”
“They were going to be on the lookout. When they caught the thief red handed, they were going to hand him over to the authorities,” Gemma explained.
Two steps and they would be even with the casket. Gemma was glad Ross had not moved his hand. She was glad he was right there beside her. If she screamed or fainted, at least he would try to catch her.
Then she saw Santa, lying in his coffin, hands resting comfortably across his chest, his long, white beard looking even more beautiful than before, in stark contrast with his red Santa suit.
“They’re burying him in his Santa suit?” Ross hissed.
“Why not?” Gemma said, pleased that she was shaking only a little. “He loved being Santa.”
They shook hands with Rosalie, her mother and ex mother-in-law and wished them well. Then, thankfully Gemma was outside where it was cold but at least the air was fresh and clean. She took a deep breath and turned to say something to Ross. He was still talking to Rosalie and her mother.
A quick glance at her watch told her she really needed to get back to the kiosk so Brenda could take a break. She would catch up with Ross later, she was sure. Hurrying to her car, she got out her keys, unlocked the door and climbed inside. Thankfully it started right up. She reached out for the door to close it but a hand like a vise on her wrist stopped her.
Chapter Eleven
“Leaving so soon?” Jackson said.
Gemma couldn’t see his eyes because he wore dark glasses. “Yes, I need to get to the mall,” she answered, pulling her hand out of his grip. “Why are you here?”
“Just paying my respects,” Jackson said. “Even if he was a thief.”
“I’ll reserve judgment on that, the thief part,” Gemma said, unable to stop the words from coming out. She shifted her car into drive. Maybe that would give him a hint.
The car didn't budge.
Gemma put her foot on the brake, pushed the lever into park and then slid it into drive again.
Nothing.
“Car trouble?” Jackson asked. He hadn’t moved, so she couldn't even close her door.
“It just...sometimes it won’t go into gear,” she explained.
“Happen often?”
Gemma shrugged. Did he know he was making her nervous? Scaring her just a little bit even though she tried to hide it? Somehow she thought he’d like knowing that. She put the car in reverse, let it settle there and then back into drive.
Nothing.
“You can ride back with me if you like. I’m going that way,” he said.
“It’ll be fine,” Gemma said. “If I just give it a few minutes.”
Just then she saw Ross step out of the funeral home and into the sunshine. He looked both ways and finally spotted her with Jackson. Frowning, he started in their direction.
When Jackson saw Ross coming, he moved away from her car. “Detective,” he said in greeting, holding out his hand.
Gemma slammed her car door and sat there watching the two men talk, their body language giving away more than either one realized. Could Jackson have killed Santa? And why? Suddenly, the car went into drive and she was glad she had her foot on the brake.
***
For the next couple of days, they settled back into their schedule. One evening, Gemma returned to the mall to help Holly with the evening rush. Her pretty friend was poring over paperwork, clicking her pen rhythmically. Never a good sign. Gemma was suddenly glad she had brought Holly one of the pumpkin spice lattes they both loved. Holly did not look happy.
“Here you go, bestie,” Gemma said, sliding the warm cup against Holly’s hand.
“Thanks,” Holly said without looking up.
Gemma took her time, putting her purse away and shrugging off her coat. She was wearing an especially festive red sweater that felt so soft and comforting. It was a sweater her mom had given her two years earlier and it made her feel warm and safe and closer to her mother.
“We’re missing some items,” Holly said, finally looking up.
“Are you sure?”
“Yep, I’ve gone over the inventory three times.”
“Holly, the only time I put items out on the counter for people to try is when I’m standing right here so I can keep an eye on it,” Gemma told her.
“Mom and I do the same thing,” Holly said, lost in thought again.
“So, how could...”
Their eyes met.
“More importantly, who?” Holly asked.
“Either Santa had some little helpers we didn’t know about or someone is moving in on his territory,” Gemma guessed.
“Should we tell Jackson?”
“Forget him,” Gemma said, keying in Ross’s number. “I’m going over his head and reporting this to the police.”
“Good idea,” Holly said, reaching for her coat. “Now, if it’s okay with you, I’m going to run and get something to eat.”
Gemma nodded as she waited for Ross to pick up.
“I won’t be long,” Holly whispered.
Ross’s greeting kicked in, short and sweet and Gemma left him a short and sweet message saying she needed to talk to him about something. It was important.
Evidently, after Santa’s murder and the discovery of his stash in his locker, everyone had let their guard down, thinking the shoplifting incident was solved. They were wrong and she needed to let the others know.
Making sure the kiosk was secure, she strolled over to where Bill and Edna were rearranging their merchandise.
“Looks like you’ve had some good sales the last few days,” Gemma said, noting that some of the prettiest sun catchers were gone.
“We have,” Edna said with a happy smile. “This is the first year we might not have enough items to last until Christmas.”
“Wow, I’d better get my purchases in quickly then,” Gemma said.
“You’d better.”
“Hey, I just wanted to let you guys know we’re missing some items,” Gemma said, hating to spoil Edna’s good mood.
“What?” Bill said loudly.
Gemma shrugged.
“But I thought...” Edna began.
“Everyone thought that,” Gemma said, not wanting to hear her accuse Santa of being the thief. “Either he had an accomplice or someone else just took over.”
“I’m going to let some of the other store owners know, too,” Gemma said. “Would you watch my kiosk for me? I’ll be right back.”
“Of course, dear, let the others know. We’ll be right here,” Edna assured her.
Gemma went about her task of alerting the other kiosk owners and some of the staff in the regular stores as well. When she returned to her kiosk, she saw that she’d missed a return call from Ross.
Before she could respond to that, she looked up to see Holly heading her way along with Mitch.
“Mitch thinks we should report the theft to Jackson, too,” Holly told her.
“
That’s fine. I don’t think it will do much good unless we drag the culprit into his office but we can do that,” Gemma said with a glance down that skinny little dark hall where Grady’s office was.
“What did Ross say?” she asked.
“I missed his call but I’ll talk to him when he does call back,” Gemma told her friend.
“We’ll go see if we can find Jackson,” Holly assured her friend.
Gemma signed with relief. “Thanks.”
That night at home, Nick called to tell her he had been sent to Richmond for a few nights to cover a breaking political story.
“That is wonderful,” she said, truly happy for him. Yet, she sensed something wasn’t quite right. “What’s wrong? This is what you’ve been working so hard for, isn’t it?”
“Yeah, I just hate leaving you there with all this going on,” he said, his voice growing tender.
“I’ll be careful,” she assured him.
“Call me if anything and I mean anything happens,” he said.
“I will. I promise,” Gemma said. “Hey, you’ll be back for Christmas won’t you.”
“Yes, of course,” he said. “But remember, I have to work Christmas day.”
“I remember. But I have a present for you and I just wanted to be sure you’d be in town so I can give it to you.”
“A present?” he asked. “Nice. You know I’ll be around to pick up that. In fact, I have a little something for you as well.”
“Oh, Nick, that’s sweet,” Gemma said, tears of happiness making it difficult to see. “What is it? Tell me? Tell me?”
Nick laughed. “I’m not telling. Now, good night.”
Not an hour later she was snuggled under her blankets talking to Ross about the shoplifting incident at the mall. He asked for details and she gave him what she had.
“Looks like we may have been misled,” he said as if deep in thought.
“Or someone just decided to take over where Santa left off,” she suggested.
“Could be. Either way, I want you to be careful,” he told her. “I’m going out of town for the weekend. I’ll be back Sunday night and I’ll touch base with you then.”
“Okay, I promise,” she said and then out of curiosity she asked, “Business or pleasure?”
Mall Santa Murder: A Cozy Christmas Mystery (Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Book 1) Page 7