And then the room went utterly silent. My chest was starting to burn from lack of air, but I was afraid if I sucked in a breath, Greg would hear and would leap over the seats at me. I imagined him doing the same, standing there, breath trapped in his chest. It would be a contest to see who could hold out the longest.
Of course, I wasn’t in the best shape of my life, and panic was making the need to breathe paramount, so our competition was short lived.
I sucked in a gasping breath.
“Got ya!” Greg appeared at the end of the aisle, screwdriver poised and ready.
I scrambled back, thankful I wasn’t hiding near the first seat. Greg rushed forward, just as I managed to get to my feet.
“Wait!” I shouted on impulse.
Strangely, Greg hesitated. He recovered almost instantly, but it was all the time I needed.
Using skills I hadn’t used since I was in high school gym, I vaulted over the seat in front of me and bolted down the aisle. Greg shouted after me, but I ignored him, mind squarely on getting out of the theatre in one piece. My chest was burning by the time I reached the stage. Instead of taking the stairs, I jumped up and pulled myself onto the stage, scrambling back to my feet, just as Greg grabbed for my foot, fingers brushing my ankle, but not quite grasping hold.
I yelped at the close call and used every last ounce of energy I had—which by this time, was mostly adrenaline—and made for the back and the cast exit. My legs were tired, and I was out of breath, but if play practice did one thing for me, it increased my usually pathetic endurance.
I reached the door a good dozen strides ahead of Greg. I burst outside, into the snowy parking lot, immediately sliding on the ice outside the door. I glanced toward the parking lot, praying Brad had hung around to make his call to the police, but his car was gone.
Jerk, I thought. I mean, who leaves a girl alone to fend for her life against a maniac? I took back every nice thing I ever said about him, limited as they may be.
A thump told me Greg had hit the door sliding. I yanked my phone from my pocket, figuring I’d need to take matters into my own hands, as I made my way to my car. Footing was iffier than ever, which meant I kept having to look away from my phone to make sure I wasn’t going to hit a patch of ice.
The cast door opened, and I glanced back to see Greg lumber outside. Blood ran down the side of his head where I’d hit him, and his lower lip was busted. He snarled at me as our eyes met, and then he came forward.
I quickened my pace and found Paul’s number. I was just about to press it when disaster struck.
The parking lot had been plowed, but whoever had done it did a pretty poor job of it. The wet, tightly packed snow had frozen solid in the dozens of tire tracks that made up the parking lot. My foot landed solidly in one of the tracks and when I moved to take another step, eyes on my phone, I stepped right in a solid patch of white ice.
I screamed as I went down, phone flying from my hand to land in a snowbank. My butt hit the ice hard, feet flying straight up into the air, but I managed to keep my head from cracking the pavement somehow. Then again, with Greg bearing down on me, it might have been better if I was knocked unconscious.
Somewhat dazed, and a whole lot sore, I scrambled to all fours, glancing back to see Greg still advancing, eyes alight in victory.
“Wait!” I said, hoping it would cause him to stop again as I pushed my way to my feet. “Brad knows you’re the killer. You don’t have to do this.”
He only snarled at me, bloody foam bubbling from his lips. He’d gone from angry to rabid, apparently.
I took a step back, my foot sliding on the ice. My car was only a few yards away, yet it felt like a million miles. If I tried to run, I’d surely end up facedown on the ice. And while Greg was having footing issues as well, I wasn’t counting on him having bad balance issues.
“Think about what you’re doing,” I said, near tears. It was late and the weather was bad, so there were hardly any cars on the road. If this had been any other time of the year, someone would have driven past by now.
“Give it up,” Greg said, spitting blood. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be. You ruined everything! I can’t let that slide.”
And then, without waiting for me to respond, he made his move.
Greg launched himself forward with a scream, blood and spittle flying from his mouth. He no longer had his screwdriver, apparently having lost it somewhere in the chase, but his hands were curled in talonlike claws, as if he would be content on ripping me apart piece by piece with his bare hands. It looked like this guy needed anger management about as much as Dean.
No, check that; this guy needed a straightjacket and some mind-altering drugs, if you asked me.
I tried to back away, but the ice had other things in mind. I put a heel down, and immediately lost my footing again. I hit hard on my back, my feet once again flying up into the air like a comedian slipping on a banana peel.
It was probably the only thing that saved me.
Greg hit the ice at the same instant as I did. He pitched forward, his momentum carrying him, just as I went over backward. His already battered face came hurtling down just as my feet came flying up.
They met about thigh-high.
There was a sickening crunch as I inadvertently kicked him square in the mouth. My head thunked against the sheet of ice covering the parking lot, causing stars to bloom.
For an instant, I was afraid I was going to pass out and Greg would crawl over to me and strangle me while I lay there, unconscious. I had an insane thought that I should have bought winter shoes with better traction before my senses came roaring back. I pushed backward, using my heels to dig into the ice, away from Greg, who wasn’t moving. I didn’t stop until I bumped up against my car.
Blinking snow from my eyes, I used the side of my car to work my way to my feet. “Greg?” I asked, quietly, not sure I wanted him to hear me, but needing to know if anyone was home.
He didn’t so much as twitch.
Okay, that wasn’t true. His back was moving as he breathed, but he appeared to be out cold.
I glanced wildly around. A chance turn of light caught my phone’s screen and I moved slowly to the snowbank to retrieve it. Paul’s number was still up, so I hit call, eyes never leaving Greg.
“Hello? Krissy?”
“Paul!” I nearly sobbed in relief. “You need to come down to the community theatre. I’ve caught the killer.”
“Are you okay?” he asked, sounding frantic himself. “We’re already on the way.”
“I’m fine.” I crept back to my car, got behind the wheel, and started it up. “I’m going to keep an eye on him. He’s taking an impromptu nap.” I had an insane urge to giggle, but suppressed it. “Hurry.”
And then I hung up, unable to keep watch over Greg’s inert body and talk at the same time. My head was pounding, my butt hurt, and I was frozen to the bone.
Jacking up the heat, I clutched at the wheel and watched the slow rise and fall of Greg’s back. He wasn’t dead, which I supposed was a good thing. But I had no idea how long he’d be out, hence starting my car. If he so much as shifted, I was out of there, even if it meant he would get away.
I’d had enough near death experiences for one lifetime, thank you very much. I wasn’t about to tempt fate again.
As the skies opened up, sending down a cascade of beautiful, white snow, I settled in to wait for the police to arrive.
27
“Come in. Merry Christmas!” Mason stepped aside, allowing both Will and me to pass. “Vicki’s still getting ready. She’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“Merry Christmas,” I said, carrying my gifts into the dining room. “Where do you want me to put these?”
“The counter is fine,” Mason turned to Will and both men shook. “Glad you could make it.”
I set the packages down with some relief. I was bruised and sore all over, and figured I would be for a week or more. Thankfully, nothing was broken and no visits to the doctor w
ere in order. Will had fussed over me when he’d seen me, of course, but there was nothing he could do but order me to take some aspirin and cuddle.
I was happy to do both.
Trouble was sitting in the next room, ears pinned back. He was wearing a red sweater with bells, and looked about as annoyed as you’d expect. Since we were in Mason’s house, it did make me wonder if Vicki had brought him along today, or if she was staying here with Mason more than she let on.
“How are you feeling?” Mason asked, joining me. “I heard they canceled the play?”
“They did.” I sighed in disappointment. All that work for naught. “Too much happened too fast. Lawrence didn’t think an elf with a black eye who could barely walk, let alone dance, would give the right impression.” I didn’t even remember hitting my face on anything, but in the excitement, I must have.
“At least that whole mess is over with.” Mason shook his head. “I can’t believe how this sort of thing always seems to happen to you. You must be cursed.”
“Tell me about it,” Will muttered with a good-natured smile.
“Everything worked out,” I said, a smidge defensively. “Robert’s out of jail and acting like I walk on water. I think he’s still dating Trisha, but I hear things have gotten tense between them because she’s now working closely with Brad. Hard to believe Robert can be jealous of anyone.”
From what I understood, Trisha had decided to go all in with Brad on the investment he’d originally planned to do with Chuck. As far as I was aware, they weren’t getting too cozy with one another, but who knows? Sometimes getting to know someone better is all it takes for love to bloom.
Of course, that would mean Robert would become single yet again, and I doubted he would leave me out of it. While I was glad he didn’t go to jail for a murder he didn’t commit, I wasn’t looking forward to his unwanted advances and arrogant attitude.
“How’s your dad doing?” Mason asked, picking up the box with his name on it and giving it a quick shake. I slapped his hand, which only caused him to smile.
“He’s doing good. He’s heading home with Laura in a couple of days.” When he’d called, he’d sounded so happy, it made me happy. Any reservations I’d had about him spending time with Laura had fled right then and there. “It sounds like he had a lot of fun and is planning on making it an annual event.”
“That’s great!” Mason sounded genuinely pleased. “The Alps are always lovely.” He glanced at Will, a mischievous look coming into his eye. “Maybe you should take her there next year.”
Will’s eyes widened for a heartbeat before he smiled. “I might have to think about it.”
I eyed him and wondered if his hesitation was because Mason had caught him by surprise, or if there was more to it. He’d been reserved as of late. I couldn’t tell if it was something I did or if it was work. He’d been spending a lot more late nights at the hospital in Levington, so chances were good he was simply tired.
Still, it made me worry.
My phone rang then. I excused myself and answered, thinking it might be Dad.
It wasn’t.
“Merry Christmas,” Robert said, sounding as shy as I’d ever heard him.
“Merry Christmas to you, too.” I gave Mason and Will a bewildered look and shrug.
There was a long pause before he spoke again. “Just wanted to thank you again, I guess.” He cleared his throat. “And I hope we can, I don’t know, be friends or something.”
“Friends?” My initial reaction was to laugh, but after thinking about it, I realized it might not be so far-fetched after all. “I think I might like that, Robert,” I said. “As long as you can behave.” I made sure my words were light, even if my meaning wasn’t.
“I’ll try.” He laughed, then coughed as if his nerves really were getting to him. “I’ll let you go. Trisha will be here any minute.”
“Okay. Have a good Christmas.”
“You, too.” He hung up.
I shook my head and returned to the conversation. Will gave me a curious look, but I shook my head. I’d tell him later. I didn’t want to confuse things by talking about Robert’s strange behavior. I get that I saved him from prison, but he was acting awfully contrite, something I didn’t think was possible with him.
“Did you hear the community theatre is closing down?” I asked, hoping it would keep them from asking about the call. I noticed a tray of Christmas cookies and snatched one.
“Vicki said something about that,” Mason said. “She was pretty upset about it. I think she was planning on trying out for the next play.” He went to the fridge and took out a carton. “Eggnog?”
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“It’s a shame,” he said, removing three glasses from a cabinet and filling them. He handed one to Will, another to me. “I used to go there all the time when I was little.”
“The place is falling apart,” I said. “The guy who ran the place refused to pay for maintenance. The plays are almost always packed, yet they never seem to have any money. Apparently, after the play was canceled, someone came in and found some faulty wiring that had code enforcement up in arms.” I had a feeling Lawrence had something to do with that.
“Not very good business practices,” Will said.
“No, but it’s going to work out.” I took a sip of eggnog, followed by a bite of my cookie. Heaven. “Lawrence—the director of the Christmas play—is opening up his own theatre. It won’t be ready for another year or two, but he’s announced it to the public and everything is moving forward. He’s invited the entire cast to be a part of his grand opening when it happens, and I’m sure if she’s interested, Vicki could join as well.”
“She’d like that.” Mason leaned back against the counter, eyes drifting toward the stairs. “And there she is.”
We all turned. Vicki was coming down the stairs wearing a red dress with a pair of candy canes crossed over her heart. On me, it would have looked corny. On her, it looked fabulous.
“You look great,” I told her, hurrying over to give her a hug.
She carefully returned the gesture and beamed at me. “You do, too,” she said, though I knew she was just being nice. Thanks to my recent beating, I was wearing a loose-fitting sweater with Rudolf prominently displayed on the chest. His nose used to light up if you pressed a button on the sleeve, but the battery had died years ago and I had never bothered to replace it.
“Dinner smells terrific,” Will said, taking a deep breath. The room smelled of turkey and all the fixings. “You the cook?” he asked Vicki.
“Mason’s handling dinner tonight,” Vicki said with a grin. Her hands were behind her back and she went up onto her tiptoes as she said Mason’s name, as if just speaking of him was enough to send her floating through the roof. “He gets all the credit.”
Mason waved the compliment away and then moved to join Vicki. He put an arm around her waist and their eyes met.
Something passed between them, something I could feel in the air. It was like a zing of electricity, a spark that everyone wished they could have, but few rarely accomplished.
“Now that you’re here,” Vicki said, practically beaming, “we have something to say.”
My eyes immediately dropped to her belly. It was as smooth and flat as ever, though it would be far too early for her to be showing anyway if she’d just found out.
She must have seen my eyes because she laughed. “No, I’m not pregnant.” She looked at Mason again and then her hand came out from behind her back. It was adorned with the largest trio of diamonds I think I’d ever seen. “We’re getting married!”
I hate to admit it, but both of us squealed like little girls and jumped around, arms clasped, for a few minutes, before gushing over the ring. Mason stood with Will during our display, looking embarrassed, but happy. Will, however, had one of those strange smiles you see when someone isn’t quite sure how to act. He knew Mason and Vicki, of course, but hadn’t been around either enough to really get to know th
em.
After we calmed down, congratulations went all around, and for a short time, everything seemed perfect. Dinner was served, gifts were exchanged. All in all, it was probably one of the best Christmases I’d ever had. My best friend was getting married!
“You know you’ll have to be my maid of honor,” Vicki said a short time later. “That is, if you want to be.”
“Of course!” I said, touched, despite myself. This was the sort of thing we’d both dreamed about since we were interested in boys. Neither of us would have it any other way.
We hugged once more as Mason went to a cupboard, returning with a bottle and four glasses. “I think it’s time we properly celebrate.”
I grinned, accepting a glass. I couldn’t agree more.
The holidays might have started out on an auspicious note, and I wasn’t sure what the New Year would bring, but for now, life was exactly how I wanted it to be.
Please turn the page for an exciting sneak peek of the next Bookstore Café mystery
DEATH BY ESPRESSO
coming soon wherever print and e-books are sold!
1
The Levington airport was a cacophony of sound, yet somehow, there were people sleeping in chairs as they awaited their flights. Seemingly unattended children screamed and pointed as planes took off and as others landed. A few cranky adults stood at counters, yelling at anyone in a nametag, demanding flight changes or upgrades. It was utter chaos.
I stayed out of the way, impatiently glancing at the large clock on the wall every couple of minutes. I wasn’t big on crowds in the best of times, and today, I was not at my best. The last week had been a flurry of activity as I helped prep for my best friend, Vicki Patterson’s, wedding to Mason Lawyer. The stress was really getting to me. I was the maid of honor, after all.
I should be home in Pine Hills even now. It wasn’t necessary I meet anyone at the airport. The coming guests all had rental cars waiting for them, so my drive back home would be a lonely one. Still, there was something I wanted to do, and I’d much rather do it here than at home where everyone would be focused on the wedding.
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