KILLER CHRISTMAS PIE

by Carolyn Q. Hunter

  “Okay, okay, you caught me. Sheesh,” she groaned, putting up her hands.

  “How did she get in?” he demanded, turning toward his men.

  “Through the back, duh. You guys didn’t have it guarded.”

  “B-but it was all locked up,” one of the guards muttered. “The only person with a key is the manager.”

  Bridget held up the lanyard. “You mean these ones I took off her? She was never very good at keeping track of stuff. It’s a miracle she’s even a manager.”

  Bert’s eyes widened as she looked at the keys. “Detective, I bet one of those keys fits the bottom drawer under the register.”

  “What the heck are you doing in here?” he barked, just noticing her presence for the first time.

  “Trust me, detective, open that drawer under the counter.”

  “Mrs. Hannah, we’ve already searched the store.”

  “Open it,” she insisted.

  “Fine, but you have to leave the store.” Holding his hand out, he took the keys from the girl who seemed all too willing to cooperate.

  Walking around the counter, he looked down at the drawer. “You men checked in here right?”

  The two officers looked blankly at one another.

  Trainor’s eyebrows scrunched together, creating wrinkles. “Wait, neither of you checked in this drawer?”

  Neither man answered, realizing they’d goofed up. More than likely, they both had assumed that the other had borrowed the keys to look inside. It was a simple mistake, but a big problem on a murder case.

  Groaning irritably, Trainor knelt and slipped the smallest key in and opened the drawer. Inside was a bloody meat cleaver. Glaring up at the men, his gaze finally landed on Bridget.

  Sighing, Bridget leaned on the counter, her dark hair falling over her face. “Alright. I admit it. I killed him and the others. I’m the Holiday Hacker.” Slowly raising her head so that her eyes pierced through her bangs at the detective, her nose crinkled up in distaste. “But you listen to me now. Every single one of those men deserved what they got. They don’t own us, I own them.”

  Shaking his head, the detective stood up and pulled his handcuffs off his belt.

  Chapter 13

  * * *

  “So, she was targeting men who were overly possessive or ungrateful toward their girlfriends?” Carla gasped, as she, Bert, and Shiv all sat around one of the tables in Pies and Pages. They each had their own mug of hot chocolate to keep them warm as the Christmas holiday was quickly approaching.

  “That’s what she told the detective. I guess it sort of started with her own boyfriend. He was stalking her and doing all sorts of crazy things. Bridget just sort of snapped after that and went after any men who she saw as unworthy, including Villa’s ex-boyfriend and her own.”

  “Wait, so her boyfriend was the first victim?” Shiv asked, leaning in on the table.

  “That’s right, but because of the snow storms his car was covered up and not found for two weeks. The freezing temperatures preserved the body.”

  “And she killed four other men in that time?” Carla pressed.

  “That’s right,” Shiv added, having been the one following the news stories. “My best friend is also friends with Bridget because she worked at Gothic Gala. Bridget had been there for her when her ex was being scary.”

  “Sheesh, was she just making a tally of men to kill?” Carla gasped.

  Setting down her mug, Bert waved her hands in the air. “Okay, ladies. No more talk about murder. This is the Christmas season after all.”

  “You’re right. I have an idea. How about we open a few presents?” Carla smirked, motioning to the shop’s Christmas tree with gifts underneath it.

  “Carla, it’s not even Christmas Eve yet. We can’t do that.”

  “Hey, we need something happy to take our minds off these murders.”

  Bert rolled her eyes but laughed. “Okay, okay. Shiv, I have something for you.” Standing up, Bert walked over to the tree and pulled out the long box.

  “Me?” she asked, a look of shock on her face.

  Bert was delighted. Clearly, her new employee hadn’t expected this. Walking over, she set the package in front of Shiv. “Merry Christmas. I was going to save it until the day of, but Carla’s right. This will remind us of the good things about the holiday.”

  Eagerly, Shiv ripped into the red and green wrapping paper, revealing the cream-colored box inside.

  “It’s a box,” Carla joked.

  “Open it,” Bert encouraged.

  Shiv carefully lifted off the lid, revealing the long wooden rolling pin inside. “Oh my gosh. My own rolling pin?” she squealed with delight as she picked it up and hugged it to herself.

  “I thought it would be a good start to your own collection of baking wares.”

  “It’s perfect,” she replied, standing up and giving Bert a hug. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, dear.” She let out a sigh of relief, knowing she’d finally found the right thing.

  Suddenly, the bell on the front door rang, announcing the entrance of a customer. It had been a slow day, thanks to the snow storm, but Bert was happy to have any business.

  Letting Shiv out of the hug, Bert turned with a smile to greet the newcomer. She paused the instant she realized it was Detective Mannor standing there with snow in his hair and on his shoulders and a few wrapped Christmas packages in his arms. “Merry Christmas,” he boomed happily.

  “Detective, Merry Christmas to you as well. What are you doing here?”

  “You’re right on time.” Carla clapped her hands eagerly and smiled.

  Bert looked at the man, to her best friend. She knew something was up. “What’s going on, you two?”

  “I came by to drop off a few gifts,” he announced proudly, walking over and setting them near the tree. Picking up a smaller package from the top of the pile, he walked over and held it out to Bert. “This one is for you.”

  Bert’s jaw dropped. “Wait, wait, now hold on. I don’t need any presents.”

  “Of course, you do,” Carla laughed.

  “This is my way of saying thank you for your help. You cleared my niece of any suspicion and helped put Trainor in his place. He’d never admit it, but you were the one who solved this case.” He beamed with a proud smile.

  Shaking her head, Bert relented, taking the package. “Okay. Thank you.”

  Carla clasped her hands all too eagerly, waiting for Bert to rip off the paper and see what was inside. Just to tease her friend, however, the shop owner carefully lifted each piece of tape one by one without ripping the paper.

  “Oh, come on.”

  Bert chuckled, finally ripping into it and removing the paper. “Oh! Oh, my gosh!” she exclaimed, nearly screaming with delight. In her hands was the video game she’d seen in the store, the one with the spacewoman in a pink jumpsuit—the very one she’d been so tempted to buy.

  “A little bird told me you were interested in it,” Mannor said.

  Bert had a good idea who that someone was. Turning, she raised a scathing eyebrow at her best friend who was sitting at the table sipping her coffee. Bert paused, setting the game down. “This was sixty dollars.”

  “I got a good deal on it actually.”

  “Still. It must have been expensive. You shouldn’t have spent that money.”

  “It’s no big deal,” he admitted, giving a strangely timid shrug that was uncharacteristic of him.

  “But, I don’t even have a game system to play it on,” she added, pushing the game across the counter toward the detective. “You’ll have to return it. I’m sorry.”

  “Actually, I have you covered,” he admitted, reaching back under the tree and pulling out a much larger package.

  Bert’s jaw dropped. “No. No way. You didn’t.” Unable to help her eager and excited hands, she ripped the paper off, revealing the sleek black gaming console inside.

  “Merry Christmas,” Detective Mannor declared.

 
; Bert shook her head back and forth in disbelief. “This is way, way too much. This system costs nearly three-hundred dollars. I can’t accept this. You have to take all of this back.”

  “It’s okay. I actually paid for part of it as well,” Carla declared, standing up with an all-too-proud smile on her face.

  “It’s from both of us,” Detective Mannor declared.

  “I seriously can’t accept this.”

  “Sure, you can. Come on, Bert. Who else is going to get you a present for Christmas?”

  Bert twisted her lips up in thought but realized her friend was right. “No one, I suppose.”

  “And you’re always saying how I’m your only real family.”

  She nodded. “I know, I know.”

  “Then, this is your one Christmas gift from your family this year. Just think of it like that. Detective Mannor just helped me pay for it.”

  Bert laughed out loud, shaking her head. She couldn’t express how excited she was to try it all out and knew there would be no talking her friend into returning it. “Okay, thank you. Thank you, both.”

  “We’re happy to do it,” the detective offered.

  “I won’t have any idea how to get this thing set up.”

  “I can help you,” Shiv jumped in.

  “You know how to set one of these up?”

  “I do. I enjoy gaming. I got one last year. A bunch of boys and girls at the shelter where I volunteer chipped in. I felt horrible accepting it since they all have so little money themselves, but they insisted. They were all so happy to give me something.”

  Bert smiled. “Of course. I would have never guessed.”

  “And there is one more thing,” Mannor commented, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a decorative envelope.

  Bert took it and opened the flap, revealing two movie tickets inside. They were to see a showing of Santa Claus Vs. The Martians, an old and goofy sci-fi film. It was the exact date he had asked her on a few weeks back. She had refused.

  “I thought your tickets were for the beginning of this month.”

  “They were, but they are playing the movie all month long. I had them exchanged for the Friday before Christmas.” He wrung his large hands together, making fists and letting them go. “So, what do you say? Will you come with me?”

  Bert hesitated, breathing deeply as she considered the choice before her. Her eyes passed over the gaming system, over the sci-fi game, and back to the tickets. Finally, her gaze ended on Detective Mannor’s face.

  Despite the gruff and weathered look of his face, his eyes glistened like a young man’s all over again—pure hope and anticipation. It was a look which Bert had seen in her own late husband’s face on countless occasions.

  Her heart leaped in her chest as if trying to tell her something.

  Finally, she let a sweet smile come to her lips. “Okay, Harry. I’d love to go with you.”