Deadly Holiday (Georgia Rae Winston Mysteries Book 2)

by Marissa Shrock

“The thought crossed my mind, but my gut says Ruby is most likely just a busybody since the evidence is pointing elsewhere.”

  Good to know. “What about Doug?”

  “No comment.”

  Interesting. “Were you actually taking notes?”

  “I plead the fifth.” He winked.

  I laughed as I buttoned my coat. “One more thing, and then I promise I won’t say anything more about the case. Tonight, at least.”

  He quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, Detective Winston?”

  “Have you located Olivia Scott?”

  Cal’s face grew serious. “No, but she’s a person of interest, so we’d like to talk to her as soon as possible.”

  “Because she might’ve killed Zach?”

  “I can’t tell you anything else.” His eyes gleamed.

  “Rats.” No surprise there.

  Cal grinned. “Ready for Christmas lights?”

  Every Christmas Wildcat Springs officials set up a huge light display that began in Sycamore Park and continued down the Wildcat Trail. Since the paved path wound around the Sycamore Hills subdivision before it led out of town, many of the homeowners put up light displays in their backyards for people to enjoy. Besides spending some quality time with my favorite detective, I had another major goal for the evening—Operation Find-Out-What-Cal-Wants-for-Christmas.

  At the trailhead, Santa and Mrs. Claus wished us a Merry Christmas and handed us each a candy cane, which we unwrapped as we walked. A partridge perched in a pear tree started the “Twelve Days of Christmas” light exhibit. Two rowdy boys—who were probably about six and eight—ran and skipped down the trail ahead of their parents who strolled hand-in-hand a few yards behind.

  “I used to get that excited for Christmas.” Cal chuckled.

  “What was the best Christmas present you got when you were a kid?” I stuck the candy cane in my mouth and savored the peppermint.

  We passed four lighted calling birds before he answered. “When I was in fifth grade, I was into LEGO bricks. My parents got me the police headquarters set.” He took my hand. “They also bought the police boat and helicopter, so I was pretty stoked about having law enforcement in the town I’d built. What about you?”

  “My piano. It wasn’t a typical gift for a kid, but Mom and Daddy bought it when I was nine, because I’d been taking lessons for about six months and had been practicing at my grandma and grandpa’s house. Once my parents figured out I was serious, they invested.”

  “Cool. When will I get to hear you play?”

  “I’m sure we can arrange a private concert soon.” I met his intense gaze. Will he finally kiss me tonight? I glanced at the eleven pipers piping.

  “I’ll look forward to that.” He squeezed my hand.

  On our right, twelve drummers pounded away on their glowing drums. “What’s on your Christmas list this year?” I asked. Nothing like getting in there and asking.

  He took a bite of candy cane and crunched for a few seconds. “Haven’t thought about it. I don’t need anything.”

  Who didn’t need anything? And could he seriously not take a hint? We passed a family of inflatable snowmen. I couldn’t give up yet. “Doesn’t your family want to know what to get you?”

  He shrugged. “Not really. Mom and Dad always give me money. My sister Danielle and I don’t give each other gifts because it got so we were trading money.”

  “In other words, you don’t have to do any Christmas shopping.”

  “Pretty much. I get Mom and Dad something, but that’s it. I give my sister money to buy stuff for her kids. Makes my life easier.”

  No wonder he wasn’t taking the hint. Would he even think to get me a present? Maybe I shouldn’t bother getting him anything at all. That didn’t feel right though.

  We passed an elderly couple who were holding hands. If Cal and I got married, would he still hold my hand after we’d been married for years? But I was getting way ahead of myself. I shoved the thought away and focused on the gift-giving crisis.

  “Do you have a lot of shopping to finish?” he asked.

  “About half. There are several people in my life who are hard to buy for.” Hint, hint.

  “Like your stepbrothers?”

  “Yep.” I wrestled back a giggle at his helpful—but clueless—expression. “They’re not very good at giving me ideas.” On our right, an elf dashed toward Santa’s workshop.

  “That’s frustrating. You could quit exchanging gifts—or have a ten-dollar white elephant like my dad’s family does.”

  “I wouldn’t want to be stuck with whatever gifts Preston and Austin might come up with.”

  “Good point. No gifts would probably be best.”

  Apparently. I surrender—for now.

  Chapter Six

  Sunday afternoon the Winston clan got together for our Thanksgiving and Christmas celebration at Grandpa’s house, and his girlfriend Wanda did the cooking. Once again, I’d been relegated to veggie tray duty. Someday I’d learn how to cook well enough to graduate to green bean casserole.

  While playing board games, my cousins and I had spent a good deal of time speculating how long it’d be before Grandpa popped the question to Wanda.

  My guess was Christmas.

  I always enjoyed this family get together, so it was late when I made it home, and I didn’t have any time to think about the case.

  Monday, I wanted to squeeze in a manicure with Carsyn Daniels at Inspire. Instead, I was a responsible adult and spent the day with our farmhand Cory, hauling loads of corn to the elevator to sell. Late that afternoon, I rushed home to review the Christmas program music, so I wouldn’t look like a novice while leading rehearsal that night.

  I arrived at church by 6:30 and went to the chapel where we held our practices. There were still two numbers Jessica hadn’t practiced with us, and we’d have to tackle those tonight.

  I was laying out the sheet music when I overheard two ladies talking in the hall outside. One of them said something about murder, so I crept over and peered around the corner into the hallway.

  “I heard Zach Mishler was getting chummy with that Scott girl.” A woman with a double chin clutched a teal-colored Coach purse. “Not sure how smart it was for a pastor to be dating a church member.”

  The skinny lady wearing hoop earrings put her hand up beside her mouth. “I heard Mona Pletcher liked to flirt with him.”

  “I suppose if you look like Mona, you can get a younger man. I wouldn’t know what that’s like.” Double Chin pursed her lips.

  Meow. I bet you don’t. I rolled my eyes, walked back to the music stand, and opened my folder. Nothing like letting the claws come out at church. Now that I was director, I should probably learn their names, but at that moment, I didn’t care.

  I looked up from my sheet music and made eye contact with Mona who stood frozen in the doorway that connected to the backstage area. Her fourteen-year-old daughter Leah, the young lead in the musical, was bowing her head over her phone. Evidently, they’d taken a shortcut from the offices through the auditorium, and judging from Mona’s pained expression, she’d overheard the gossipers. I hoped Leah hadn’t.

  “Good evening, ladies.” I pointed to the pages of music I’d stacked in piles on the front row of chairs. “Come get one of each.”

  Mona turned to her daughter. “I meant to get a throat lozenge out of my desk. Will you go grab one? Top right drawer.”

  Leah glanced up from her screen. “Sure.” With her ponytail flipping, she bounded out of the room.

  Mona moved down the row and picked up the pages. “Did you hear those women?”

  “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

  She stopped and drew the stack of music to her chest. “Zach was a kind man who was wise beyond his years.”

  I tamped down the surge of excitement I felt at the fact that she was opening up. No need to spook her by appearing too eager. “How so?” Would Pastor Mark have used the word wise to describe Zach?

  Mona sat in one the
rows I’d designated for the sopranos, snapped open the three-ring binder, and began adding the music. “My divorce was brutal on my kids.” Tears sparkled in her eyes. “I never wanted my marriage to end. I fought as long as I could, but my ex-husband was determined to be with his mistress. They got married a few months ago.”

  “I’m so sorry.” The words seemed inadequate, but I didn’t know what else to say.

  “I never felt like you judged me.” She tucked a stray hair behind her ear. “Unlike a lot of women in this church.” She did nothing to disguise the bitterness in her tone. “Anyway. Zach advised me about how to help my kids—since he’d been through his parents’ divorce. That’s all. There was never anything romantic between us. We always had a brother-sister vibe going on. Besides, I’ve been seeing someone else, but we’ve been keeping it quiet.”

  It took everything I had to bite back the urge to ask who she was dating. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” But I’m not sad that you are.

  “I want someone else to know my side. Who knows what kind of rumors are floating around?” She flicked her gaze toward the hall where Double Chin and Skinny had yet to emerge.

  As I moved from behind my music stand, I decided to shift directions. “You saw Zach almost every day. Did he seem upset about anything lately?” I sat beside Mona.

  She ran her finger along the folder’s edge. “Mark and Zach weren’t getting along—and hadn’t been for a while.”

  “Why?” There had to be more than the recent argument.

  Mona bit her lip and glanced over her shoulder. “If I tell you something, do you promise not to repeat it?” she whispered.

  “If it’s about the case, I might have to say something to Detective Perkins,” I whispered.

  “Fine—but no one else.” She closed her folder and rested her hands on it. “Six months ago, when the search committee was looking to fill the youth pastor’s position, I had to record the meeting minutes.” Mona shook her head. “Mark wanted to hire his son-in-law, Dax, instead of Zach and tried to influence the search committee by bringing up concerns about Zach not being married. It didn’t work because the committee members were afraid Dax would spend too much time focusing on taking over for Mark when he retired—instead of concentrating on youth ministry. Mark also said he sensed Zach wasn’t passionate enough about youth ministry.”

  I toyed with this new information while refusing to think the worst about my pastor. His son-in-law not getting a job in our church hardly seemed motive for murder. I’d ponder that later. Right now, I needed to keep Mona talking. “Did Zach ever find out?”

  “I never told him, and I hope our committee members would have more discretion than to repeat that information.”

  Either they hadn’t been discreet, or the unmarried youth pastor thing had been a universal concern. “Do you know who Zach was dating?”

  “He’d been out a few times with Olivia Scott, but I don’t know if it was serious. Ruby was determined to set him up with her daughter, Carsyn.” Mona grimaced. “That would’ve been a horrible match.”

  “Why?”

  “I’ll stick with facts, because I don’t want to be like those two old biddies in the hallway.” She leaned aside and glanced over my shoulder. “Carsyn’s been exploring different religions to find the right truth for herself.”

  “Gotcha.” That relationship wouldn’t work for a pastor who preached absolute truth—or at least I thought that’s what Zach had stood for.

  Mona shifted. “Zach was still trying to figure out where he fit. He appreciated J.T. hanging out with him.”

  Choir members were beginning to filter in. “One more question,” I said.

  “Yeah?”

  “Did Zach ever mention anchor?”

  Mona furrowed her brow. “No. That doesn’t ring a bell.” A group of women walked closer to us. “Please don’t tell anyone about our conversation,” she whispered.

  I winked. “What conversation?”

  When I woke up Tuesday morning, the first thought that charged into my decaffeinated brain was that Cal had never called. On Sunday when we’d talked, he’d promised he’d call on Monday night, and I’d fallen asleep watching Diagnosis Murder reruns and waiting.

  Patting my nightstand until I gripped my phone, I prayed for a message.

  Sorry. Got tied up at work. I’ll call another time.

  That was vague. Was he trying to send a signal that he was no longer interested? Was that why he wouldn’t tell me about Thanksgiving and hadn’t taken the hint about a Christmas gift?

  I wouldn’t think the worst until I knew for sure. He was probably just busy with Zach’s case.

  Heaving a sigh, I burrowed under the covers. Now what?

  Kelsey.

  I sat up and tossed my comforter aside. Why hadn’t I thought of getting her advice sooner?

  In spite of a rocky start to our friendship, Cal’s cousin Kelsey and I had become prayer partners prior to her leaving to work at a clinic in Ethiopia. Maybe she could give me some insight if I emailed her. Before she’d left, she made it clear she wanted to hear from her friends on a regular basis to combat homesickness.

  A prick of guilt needled me when I realized I’d only contacted her once. Leave it to me to remember to follow through as soon as I needed something.

  Pushing the thought away, I got out of bed, put on my slippers, and shuffled to my office. I emailed Kelsey an update about my life, asked several questions, and ended with a plea for help understanding Cal and for suggestions on what to get him for Christmas.

  With that mission accomplished, I made a nail appointment with Carsyn Daniels at Inspire Salon & Spa in Richardville and hit the shower.

  “I’m glad you came in,” Carsyn said a couple of hours later as she led me to her station. The place had a modern vibe with gray-toned wood floors and acrylic and chrome styling chairs. The minimalist style contrasted with the homey feel of Sassy Salon in Wildcat Springs, where I had my long hair trimmed on a semi-regular basis.

  Carsyn had used a much lighter touch on her makeup than her mom, but I understood why Jim Phillips had noticed her eyelashes, which had to be extensions.

  She examined the bottle of deep red polish I’d chosen. “This will be pretty. Traditional, but pretty.” She set it on the glass-topped manicure table and motioned for me to have a seat.

  “I thought so.” I sat and held out my hands. Working with farm equipment meant fancy nails weren’t a priority, so I’d probably had a total of three manicures in my entire life. Neat, clean, and short had always been my preference.

  Besides, there was nothing more annoying than fingernails clicking against piano keys. When I was growing up, my teacher had kept nail clippers handy for anyone who violated her no clicking rule, and fear of having to use community trimmers had ingrained in me the habit of weekly filing.

  Carsyn picked up my hand and used a file to shape my nails. “How’s the musical going?” Her eyes gleamed, as if she understood it wasn’t easy.

  “Great. I’m excited to see everything come together.” This was true, but I forced some enthusiasm into my tone, because it wasn’t like I was going to talk smack about Ruby to her daughter.

  “Mom totally guilted me into helping her.” Carsyn rolled her eyes. “Told me that if I could volunteer at Solid Rock Mission, I could surely help family with a church program.” She set aside the file and put my hands in a finger bowl. “Even though church isn’t my thing anymore.”

  I considered what Mona had told me. “Why not?”

  Carsyn sighed. “It doesn’t work for me. I can’t believe in a God who sends people to hell.” She grimaced. “There’s got to be a better way.” Her posture tensed, and her expression dared me to argue with her.

  I shifted. What could I say that she hadn’t already heard from her mom? Still, I worried about her eternal fate. Lord, what should I do?

  Pray for her.

  I took a deep breath and remembered my study of Ecclesiastes during sm
all group. A time to be silent and a time to speak.

  Apparently, God wanted me to keep my mouth shut and change the subject. “Tell me about your volunteer work.”

  Carsyn relaxed her shoulders. “It’s no biggie. Just helping out serving meals. It makes me feel good to give back to the community. If you’re interested, you could pitch in. We always need more volunteers.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” I twisted my foot around the chair leg. “I hate to be too nosy, but has anyone around here heard from Olivia Scott?”

  “No.” She lowered her voice. “Believe me, all of us are totally freaking—especially since Zach was murdered, and they’d been hanging out.”

  “Was anything bothering her before she disappeared?”

  “No. I’d never seen her happier.” Carsyn lifted my hands out of the bowl and set it aside. “She was super excited about Zach. He was a nice guy. I got to know him at Solid Rock. Mom bugged me non-stop about dating him, even though I kept telling her it was never going to happen.” She began pushing back my cuticles. “I’m sure you can’t possibly picture her nagging me.”

  I chuckled and bit my tongue—in case a snarky comment developed a mind of its own and charged forth. A rare win for Nice Georgia. “How long had Zach and Olivia been seeing each other?”

  “I think a few weeks.” Carsyn shrugged. “But they could’ve been dating longer and keeping it on the down low, which I’d understand. Olivia was pretty open about stuff, but Zach didn’t talk about his personal life.”

  Interesting that Carsyn had said that Olivia was pretty open instead of is pretty open. She kept working on my nails, seemingly unaware of her verb tense choice.

  “How’d Zach seem before he died?”

  “Happy. Like Olivia.” She stopped. “Hold on. There’s one thing. I’d better call that hot detective who came in here asking about Olivia.”

  Hot detective. I curled up my toes and fought a wave of jealously. She resumed cuticle work and seconds ticked by. Seriously? Don’t leave me hanging. Should I ask and risk looking overly eager?