Deadly Holiday (Georgia Rae Winston Mysteries Book 2)

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Deadly Holiday (Georgia Rae Winston Mysteries Book 2) Page 18

by Marissa Shrock


  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “You have to tell Detective Perkins what you know.” I shifted my legs because the harness straps were digging into my skin.

  “No way.” Olivia’s eyes widened.

  “Cal’s trustworthy.”

  She picked at the wrapper on her water bottle.

  “Georgia? Are you okay? It’s five minutes until curtain!” Ruby’s shrill voice reverberated through the basement.

  Terror flitted across Olivia’s face, and she jumped up, steadying herself against the stall.

  “Stay hidden. I’ll find a way to help,” I whispered as I stood. I darted out of the restroom and blocked the door. “Sorry.” I hitched my thumb over my shoulder. “Don’t go in there. Pre-show nerves do a number on my colon.” I pressed my hand to my abdomen.

  Ruby grimaced. “We need you to hurry.”

  I followed her upstairs into the greenroom. When a cast member intercepted her, I slipped into the wings and scanned the audience, hoping to find Cal quickly. He wasn’t in the seat I’d reserved for him in the fifth row. Nor was he anywhere in the auditorium.

  I spotted Carsyn holding Tristan’s hand in the front row. Mom and Dan were sitting with Aunt Janie, Uncle Todd, J.T. and their neighbors. Preston and Austin had decided to show up and were sitting on the far right. Not the greatest seats, but that’s what they got for waiting until the last minute. Otherwise, I could’ve put them in the center with Mom and Dan.

  I scanned the room again, hoping to see Cal coming in the back, but he must’ve been running late. “Cal, where are you?” I muttered as I darted toward the corner of the greenroom where I’d stored my purse. I found my phone in the bottom of my handbag and started to send a text.

  “Georgia!” Running toward me, Ruby pointed at my phone. “Put that away. The choir’s waiting for you to lead them out.”

  “One minute.”

  “Not acceptable.” Ruby tried to snatch my phone, but I held it over her reach, and she jumped like a Chihuahua trying to reach a bone.

  “Ruby, back off!” I shouted in a tone that was anything but angelic. At least I hadn’t said all the words that’d been pinging in my head.

  She huffed and stalked away, muttering something about missing Jessica Myers and disrespectful millennials.

  Whatever. There were bigger problems than her feelings. I typed a message to Cal as fast as I could.

  I found Olivia Scott. Help!!!!!

  I made sure the message sent before silencing it. Then I tucked it into my bra—a practice I’d never done—or intended to do again, but it wasn’t like my angel robe had pockets.

  The opening music was beginning as I scurried to the front of the line. Taking a deep breath, I led the choir out to the risers on stage left and surveyed the audience. Cal was sitting in his seat and looking down. My phone vibrated.

  Once the choir was in place, I led them through the opening number, “Hustle-Bustle.” When the lights dimmed, I bolted into the wings and checked Cal’s reply.

  Where?

  I didn’t want to give up her location until he understood Detective Kimball was dirty. Though I trusted him completely, I didn’t want to inadvertently put Olivia in danger if Cal called for backup.

  Marvin Kimball is a dirty cop. Meet me backstage.

  I peeked from behind the curtain and saw Cal get up and walk toward the exit. Leah was now in the middle of her solo, “More Than Santa,” which meant I had about a minute until the choir sang again.

  We’d have to wait until next break.

  Leah finished, and as the crowd broke into applause, I took my place in front of the choir and caught Brandi’s wide-eyed glance.

  “Pray,” I mouthed.

  She gave me a thumbs up.

  Taking a deep breath, I led the choir through “Step into History,” which was Millie’s response to Leah’s questions about the real meaning of Christmas. During the song, they got into the sleigh time machine and arrived at their first stop—Judea—where Mary was visiting her cousin Elizabeth.

  When I darted into the wings, Cal stood in the greenroom doorway. I rushed over, grabbed his arm, and yanked him inside, trying to ignore the harness’s pinching straps.

  “Olivia Scott reported a possible extortion scheme going on at True Mooring Life Center to Marvin Kimball on the Monday before Zach was killed.”

  He gaped at me. “Are you serious? Marvin never mentioned that to me.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

  “That’s because he’s in on it. I think he’s been helping Tristan Phillips dig up dirt on people, so they’ll surrender their money and property more easily. Then Tristan gives him a cut.”

  Cal shook his head. “No way. I’ve seen Marvin’s house—and cars. He’s not living above his means.”

  “What if he’s hiding the money?”

  “I doubt it. Last week his debit card got declined when we were eating lunch, and I had to pick up the tab.”

  “Then Tristan must be blackmailing him for some reason. Plus, there has to be a third person involved.” I told him about what Ashley’s coworker, Steve, had witnessed.

  Cal flattened his lips.

  I rested my hand on his arm. “Please. I know you don’t want to think that about your partner, but the day Zach was killed, a white SUV ran Olivia off the road—a few days after she reported Tristan to Marvin. Plus, the Jimsonweed tea was meant for her, but since it had peppermint and she hates that flavor, she gave it to Zach.” I lowered my voice. “The tea was a birthday gift that had Carsyn Daniel’s name on the tag, but Olivia never saw Carsyn put it in her massage room at work. It just appeared there with all the other gifts.”

  Elizabeth and Mary’s song, “Blessed is She,” was winding down, so I had to be back on stage in about five seconds.

  Mary hit the final note in her beautiful soprano.

  “Got to go,” I whispered. “One more song before intermission.”

  “But—”

  I scurried back on stage as the lights came up on Joseph. For the next three minutes, I focused all my energy on “Can It Be?” because this piece about Joseph learning that Mary was expecting Jesus was the most difficult in the show. At the song’s conclusion, the curtain closed, and I gimped over to Cal.

  “Let’s go. I’ve got ten minutes.” I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the hallway. Dodging the shepherds and children dressed as sheep, I led him to the old church building. I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one had followed us and we were alone.

  “She’s been hiding here?” Skepticism filled his tone as we took the narrow staircase into the basement.

  “Yep.” I pushed open the ladies’ restroom door, but the space was empty.

  Cal opened the men’s room door, and we found only a toilet, urinal, and sink.

  “Olivia?” I whispered. “It’s Georgia.”

  We quickly checked the closets and each of the Sunday school rooms.

  Olivia had vanished.

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  “I told her to stay here.” I scowled and put my hands on my hips.

  “Maybe someone else found her first.” Cal headed for the stairs. “I’m going to find Carsyn and Tristan.”

  “I’m sorry.” I trailed behind. “I was afraid if you came down here without me, then Olivia would get spooked. She’s terrified of law enforcement.”

  He set his jaw. “We’ll find her.”

  When we came to the new part of the building, Cal disappeared into the café where audience members were milling around. I returned to the greenroom, just in time to lead the choir on stage. I scanned the auditorium, and Carsyn’s and Tristan’s seats were empty. I hoped Cal had found them.

  “Are you okay?” Brandi mouthed.

  I shook my head.

  Once everyone was in place, the choir began singing “O Little Town of Bethlehem” while Mary and Joseph approached the inn, looking for shelter. Millie and Leah watched the action unfold on stage right.

  When the song ended,
I tried to piece the case together while Mary and Joseph—Doug and Ella—walked to the stable.

  Doug.

  My stomach clenched when I remembered what Mona had told me about Tristan selling Anchor Recovery Center. What if Doug was the third person? What if Tristan knew about his gambling problem—or debts—and was using that to manipulate him into helping with his extortion scheme?

  Doug’s tenor voice was pitched higher than Jim’s or Tristan’s, and he might’ve known about Olivia’s and Zach’s love of tea. But how would he have gotten the tea to Olivia?

  I fought back the emotions that battled to display themselves on my face. Not now. Not onstage. I didn’t want to think that any of this evil was possible in my little hometown. But this was the same place where my daddy had been murdered. Where Tara Fullerton had been killed. A small town didn’t shield us from the evil in the world—it only lulled us into pretending we were safe.

  Mary moaned in pain as the stage lights faded. Jesus was born during a scene change, so we didn’t traumatize any small children in the audience. It was time for me to lead the choir in the “Away in a Manger” medley, so I steeled my focus while Mary and Joseph cuddled the Baby Jesus doll instead of their dear Lyla.

  When the choir finished singing and the stage lights darkened, I moved into the wings—because it was time for me to proclaim our Savior’s birth. The shepherds and sheep children hurried into place with a chorus of footsteps, whispers, and shushing.

  I swiped my halo from the prop table and stuck it on my head.

  “Ready?” Alex, the stage hand, held the wires in his hand.

  “Yep.” I turned so he could clip them onto the harness through the openings in my robe. I shifted as the straps pulled taut against my legs and hips. I’d have to give Olivia a call for a massage when things calmed down.

  Olivia. Massage.

  Why was that bugging me?

  The pulley system gently lifted me ten feet off the ground, and the curtain opened as the orchestra started the next song. I slapped on an angelic expression.

  Inspire Salon & Spa.

  That was it. The third person wasn’t Doug—it was Pete Litchfield.

  Focus. I held out my arms. “Fear not. For behold, I bring you—”

  Two things happened at once.

  First, my eyes fell on Olivia, who’d donned a biblical costume and had taken a place with the choir on the left edge of the front row—almost in the wings.

  Second, Pete Litchfield crept along the back wall toward the auditorium’s right exit.

  I drew in a deep breath. “For behold, I bring you the truth about Zach Mishler’s murder.”

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Pete Litchfield froze.

  My eyes fell on Preston and Austin, who were sitting right next to the door. “Preston, Austin—stop him.” I pointed at Pete, and my stepbrothers launched out of their seats as the house lights blinked on.

  I swayed above the stage.

  Pete’s wife Winnie jumped up and tried to use her girth to hinder them, but Austin hadn’t been on an offensive line for nothing. He blocked her so Preston could sneak around.

  Preston tackled Pete and wrenched his hands behind his back.

  A gasp swept over the audience, and people stood to see the commotion. Carsyn and Tristan stood at the back of the auditorium next to Cal, who held his phone to his ear and looked back and forth between Tristan and the scuffle.

  “Get your hands off my husband.” Winnie leaped toward Preston’s back, but Austin took her down.

  “Don’t touch me!” she bellowed.

  A sheriff’s deputy raced into the auditorium, and Cal pointed to Preston, Austin, and Pete. Clearly, he didn’t intend to leave Tristan, which was a smart move.

  I had to forge ahead before Ruby—or someone else—tried to silence me. “Let me explain.” I motioned for everyone to be seated and waited for the crowd to hush. “Zach’s death was accidental, because the poison wasn’t intended for him.”

  Ruby stood on her seat in the auditorium and waved her arms. “Stop her,” she wailed. “She’s ruining my show!”

  A murmur of confusion rippled through the room.

  I held up a hand. “Zach was dating Olivia Scott, and they both liked tea. When Olivia received a new blend for her birthday, she gave it to Zach because it contained peppermint—which she hated. She didn’t know the tea contained poisonous Jimsonweed seeds. The tea had a tag from Carsyn Daniels, but—”

  “How dare you!” Ruby charged on stage. “You have no right to ruin my show—and my daughter’s reputation.”

  Pastor Mark, who was filling in for a sick shepherd, rushed over and put his arm around her. “Let her finish.”

  “The tea didn’t come from Carsyn. Pete Litchfield, Olivia’s neighbor, scheduled a massage with her on her birthday and placed the package of tea with Olivia’s other gifts in the massage room at the salon. He put Carsyn’s name on the tag, hoping Olivia would make and drink the tea without question. When she died, everyone would blame Carsyn.” I scanned the crowd. “I’m sure everyone’s wondering why Pete would want to poison Olivia Scott.”

  “If you’re going to ruin my show, you’d better tell us it had nothing to do with my baby,” Ruby shouted.

  This statement drew a few nervous chuckles from the audience and the choir. The other shepherds began ushering the sheep-children off stage. Olivia pulled her head covering tighter but nodded, as if she wanted me to continue.

  The deputy reached Pete, took him from Preston, and handcuffed him.

  “Olivia stumbled on an extortion scheme involving Pete. Not long after she attended a Discovery Session at True Mooring Life Center with Carsyn, one of Olivia’s massage clients, Jody Chatfield, talked about how she’d given up building her dream house in favor of living in a tiny house. That seemed weird to Olivia, and when she learned Jody was involved with True Mooring, she decided to investigate, since she’d gotten funny vibes during her own visit. Zach helped because of his expertise in real estate. After they did some digging, Olivia suspected the leader of True Mooring, Tristan Phillips, was extorting money and property from group members and investing it in his company, Final Rejuvenation, LLC. Rejuvenate is the last stage of the ANCHOR program at True Mooring Life Center—and is the reason why anchor was one of Zach’s last words. Olivia saved the evidence on a flash drive and gave it to Detective Marvin Kimball with the hope that he’d investigate further. Instead, he immediately informed Tristan Phillips and Pete Litchfield.”

  A murmur rippled through the crowd again. In the back, Carsyn covered her face with her hands, and Cal grabbed Tristan’s arms.

  “I’ve always said you can’t trust cops,” Bobbi Sue Miller shouted from the center section.

  For once, her paranoia wasn’t wrong. “Tristan once owned Anchor Recovery Center and knew Pete Litchfield had a gambling problem. After Tristan sold the center to start True Mooring, he manipulated Pete into helping him extort money from True Mooring members in exchange for paying off his gambling debts—and I suspect he did the same for Detective Kimball, who probably used his detective skills to dig up dirt on members.”

  The audience turned toward Pete, who squirmed in the deputy’s grip. Austin and Preston stood on each side of them—clearly ready to provide backup.

  “Don’t say a word, Pete,” Winnie shouted. “They’ll use it against you. We’ll prove none of this is true. That busybody farmer-detective is just making up stories.”

  Pete hung his head as the deputy led him out. Poor Winnie.

  I took a deep breath and ignored the throbbing pain in my legs. “To protect their scheme, the men came up with the plan to kill Olivia. Tristan knew that Jimsonweed was poisonous because his niece’s boyfriend died from ingesting it earlier this year. As Olivia’s neighbor, Pete was aware Olivia liked tea and used his friendly relationship with her to his advantage. A few days later, when the poison tea scheme didn’t work, Detective Kimball stole an SUV and ran her off the road into Sloan�
�s Pond—but she survived and has been hiding in our church basement ever since.”

  Olivia pushed down her head covering and stepped out of the choir, and the audience buzzed. Two more deputies raced into the auditorium and took Tristan from Cal.

  Alex, the stagehand, lowered me to the floor, and when he unhooked the wires, I sank down, my robe pooling around me.

  After the excitement, Pastor Mark and Ruby decided that finishing the show was futile, and Pastor Mark made a quick announcement to anyone who was listening, encouraging them to return for a Sunday evening performance.

  Ruby would probably never forgive me, but I was totally fine with that. Word on the street was that Jessica Myers was on the mend, so she could have her job back.

  I was sitting on the couch in the greenroom trying to catch my breath when Preston and Austin rushed in. I held up my hand for a high five. “Nice work, sidekicks.”

  They each slapped my hand.

  “That was one of the most awesome things I’ve ever seen,” Preston said. “You were like the Angel of Truth.”

  “Like a superhero in a movie.” Austin crossed his arms.

  I nearly choked on my next words, but they needed to be said. “I couldn’t have done it without you guys.”

  They beamed. “We know.”

  Mom and Dan joined us. “Are you okay, sweetie?” Mom sat down next to me, removing my halo and stroking my hair.

  “Yeah. My heartrate still hasn’t slowed down to normal.”

  Carsyn Daniels stood in the doorway, and I got up. “Excuse me.” I made a beeline for her.

  She hugged me as soon as I reached her. “Thank you.” She stepped back. “I was so scared, and didn’t know what to do, because I was in over my head at True Mooring. I’m sorry I tried to recruit you and Rob, but I had to keep up appearances. Tristan was after me to talk to you both. I even had to record our conversations as proof.” She covered her face with her hands. “I’m so, so, sorry for dragging Olivia and Zach into this.”

 

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