Traitorous Toys (Cozy Corgi Mysteries Book 2)

by Mildred Abbott

  Mom shimmied her shoulders in pleasure. “Sounds wonderful, darling. And I’ll buy a new bundle of sage to clear everything out again.”

  “That’d be great, Mom.” The longer she was married to Barry, the more hippie she became. It was rather endearing. I gave a sweeping glance toward my nephews and nieces. “And speaking of shopping, I am still getting the hang of buying presents for you all. I’d really appreciate Christmas lists this year. There was a beautiful assortment of carved wooden toys at Bushy Evergreen’s Workshop, but even the owner thought I might want to shop elsewhere for you all.”

  Before the kids could reply, Zelda sucked in a breath and gave her sister a knowing look before turning back to me. “The owner? So you must have met Declan. Isn’t he the dreamiest thing you ever saw?”

  “Hey! Your husband is sitting right here!”

  I glanced quickly at the twin who’d spoken. If he was Zelda’s husband, that meant he was Noah. I made a mental note that Noah was on the right and Jonah was on the left. That would only help me until after dessert.

  Zelda waved him off. “Oh hush, you know I adore you. And you’re very handsome. But there’s two of you, which means you’re replaceable. There’s only one of Declan Diamond.”

  I nearly choked. “Diamond? Are you kidding me?”

  Zelda looked at me like I’d lost my mind. “No. Why is that strange? I think it’s rather fitting for him. He sparkles like one.”

  “Declan Diamond?” How could she not see this? “I met the entire family. They all start with Ds.” I listed them off on my fingers. “Duncan Diamond, Declan Diamond, Dolan Diamond, and Daphne Diamond, for crying out loud.”

  “Huh!” Verona smacked her sister’s arm. “I never noticed that. Have you?”

  Zelda shook her head as both their husbands looked affronted.

  Barry chimed in, his voice solemn. “His face might be pretty, but that man’s heart isn’t.”

  “Barry!” Mom chided, her tone full of reproach. “That’s a horrible thing to say. I know he isn’t the nicest man, but—”

  Barry shook his head in a rare act of disagreeing with Mom, and doubled down. “No, I mean it. He’s an awful human.”

  I couldn’t stop myself. The only aspect I’d inherited from my mother was her hair; everything else, including my curiosity, came from my detective father. And I knew just how rare it was for Barry to speak so vehemently against someone. “Why? What did he do?”

  Before Mom could protest, Barry launched in. “Duncan and I went to school together back in the day. I watched him and his wife, the Lord rest her soul, build that toyshop from nothing to a beautiful success. Duncan working his fingers to the bone carving the most well-crafted and artistically sound toys and figures you could find anywhere. They spared no sacrifice for their two boys. Dolan’s a little off, sure, but he’s got the heart of an angel. Declan would sooner slit your throat than give you a five-dollar bill.”

  “Barry. Not in front of the kids.” Mom tried again, but Barry was on a roll.

  He nearly shook. I’d never seen Barry truly angry before, not even when he was falsely accused of murder. “Three years ago that ingrate had Duncan declared incompetent and took complete control of everything. The shop, the houses, the finances, everything. Duncan’s little more than a poorly paid, hired hand in the very life he created.”

  “Granted, I didn’t even hear Duncan speak, but he didn’t seem incompetent in the few seconds we were together.” Despite Mom’s protests, I believed every word that came out of Barry’s mouth. Especially considering the glimpse I had through the window. “How could that legally have happened? Didn’t Duncan fight it?”

  Barry shrugged, his anger slipping to an expression of confusion. “I honestly can’t say. It still doesn’t make sense. Gerald did everything he could, but it wasn’t enough against Declan’s high-paid Denver lawyer.”

  I barely caught myself before I let out a groan. “Gerald Jackson was Duncan’s lawyer?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, and he fought hard. It just didn’t work. Duncan lost everything. Declan controls the entire family.”

  I cast a knowing glance at Mom, but she just shook her head. She knew better than to speak against Gerald Jackson. He was another of Barry’s childhood friends. A nice man, I was certain, but a horrible lawyer. Mom wouldn’t speak ill of most people, but having been the wife of a detective for so long, she knew incompetence when she saw it.

  And poor Duncan Diamond, those grumpy, irritable eyes of his. Surrounded by his beautiful creations, and powerless.

  One thing was for sure, Bushy Evergreen’s Workshop was about as far from the actual Santa’s workshop as you could get.

  Thankfully, I’d made plans to meet Katie when she ended her shift at the coffee shop. If I hadn’t, I probably would’ve thrown in the towel around two in the afternoon. As fun as it was to begin to see my dream come together, pushing box after heavy box of books from room to room was a bit backbreaking. Watson managed a good three minutes on the main level with me, and then disappeared upstairs to the kitchen. I figured he was continuing to look for the candy he’d found our first day in the building. That, or he was just letting me know he didn’t appreciate being brought back here for another entire day.

  At the scheduled time, Watson and I walked into Black Bear Roaster coffee shop just as Katie was hanging up her apron. She gave us a happy wave and elbowed the teenage barista with her elbow.

  “Give Fred my employee discount on whatever she wants, please.” She motioned toward the restroom. “I’ll be right back. Just let me change out of my work clothes.”

  Knowing it was a mistake to consume caffeine so late in the day, I ordered my normal, a large dirty chai, and opted for a pumpkin scone. Whatever. I’d earned it.

  By the time the chai was slid across the counter, Katie had joined Watson and me once more. Her brown, normally curly, shoulder-length hair had been pulled back into a short ponytail, and she gave me a quick hug and scratched Watson’s ears. “Do you mind eating as we go? I’ve got to get out of here.”

  I cocked an eyebrow and intentionally leered at her sweater. “I’m not a fashionista by any means, but are you sure you want to go out in public wearing that?”

  “Shut up!” She gave me a playful shove on my arm, causing some of the chai to spill, which Watson, being the helpful corgi he was, quickly cleaned off the floor. Katie motioned down at her purple sweater, which had an embroidered polar bear, giraffe, penguin, and mouse, all wearing Santa hats, on the front. “I don’t think ugly Christmas sweaters should be relegated to ugly Christmas-sweater parties. It’s not right.”

  I couldn’t really say I agreed, but somehow it made me adore Katie just a little bit more. “Even so, why are all the animals stacked on top of each other? Are they trying to see over something?”

  “They’re stacked biggest to smallest. Like a Christmas tree.” Before I could point out that the stacked animals looked nothing like a Christmas tree, she pulled up the hem of her jeans and showed me her mismatched socks one at a time. “The right one is a cranky Christmas unicorn, and the left is the Grinch dressed up like Mrs. Claus.”

  Katie didn’t usually remind me of Barry, but if he ever opted to not wear his tie-dye, this was exactly the sort of outfit he would concoct. “When I agreed to go Christmas shopping with you, despite detesting shopping, I didn’t realize I was agreeing to Christmas dress-up.”

  She waved me off and then returned the favor of wardrobe commentary. “And surprise, surprise—Fred Page and baby-poop colors. Pea-green sweater over rust-colored broomstick skirt.” Her eyes narrowed. “The only thing that makes me detest your color palette more is that you actually pull it off. Which shouldn’t be possible.” She cocked her head and then pulled back my hair in her overly familiar way. “You always have great taste in jewelry, however. You’re tall enough to pull off long dangling silver earrings. On me, they would just make me look shorter.” She slipped her arm into mine, once more providing Watson with a happ
y treat trailing behind us as she pulled me toward the door. “Now come on, before all the stores close.”

  Unlike the night before, though the sun was already setting, the late afternoon had clear skies and was only mildly brisk. The snow which had fallen that morning was still fresh enough on the heaps of cleared-away mounds that ran along the sidewalks to give a pleasant Christmas vibe when combined with lights winding up the streetlamps and making a canopy over the sections of Elkhorn Avenue between the rows of shops.

  We passed store after store, with Katie doing no more than glancing through the windows. I couldn’t tell if she was looking for something specific, or nothing at all.

  “Who are we shopping for, anyway?” I used as benign a voice as possible. After a couple of questions about Katie’s family, I’d caught on that it wasn’t a topic she cared to discuss. And while I wanted to respect her boundaries, well… I was my father’s daughter. I was curious.

  If Katie noticed my double intent, she didn’t let on. “No one, really. I just enjoy Christmas shopping. I’m going to get my coworkers at the coffee shop some little tacky Estes Park souvenirs, just to be cute or something. And Carla, the owner, is having a baby in February. I haven’t had a kid to buy for in years. So at least there’ll be one cute present to get.” She grinned up at me, a relaxed expression on her round face. “And I know you hate shopping, so I thought I might help you with your list.”

  That leading question hadn’t garnered much information other than that at some point she’d had kids in her life to shop for. “I don’t have a list, but if you want to do all my shopping for me, I’ll happily give whatever you decide to buy. Even if it’s ugly Christmas sweaters.”

  “Not a bad idea.”

  I took another bite of the scone and gave up. Hesitating, I studied Watson’s pleading face. He was supposed to be on a diet. He let out a long whimper.

  Whatever. It was Christmas. Weakening, like we’d both known I would, I handed the rest to Watson. We paused for the five seconds it took him to scarf it down.

  “I really thought having you work at Black Bear Roaster would help their pastry items not to be dry. Every scone I’ve tried is almost tooth breaking.”

  “Nothing is made in-house. Everything Carla gets, she orders from a factory in Denver.” Katie sighed wistfully. “When I mentioned that I’d be happy to make things at home and bring them in, she about had a conniption. Granted, I know it wouldn’t meet health requirements, but it’s killing me not being able to bake. It’s making me miss working for Opal, as cantankerous as she was. Goodness, at this point I even miss Lois, even with her aversion for sugar. At least she had the sense to make things fresh.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. “You know you’re a baker at heart when murder doesn’t bother you as much as prepackaged scones.”

  Katie shrugged, unconcerned. “Not saying murder is good, but let’s be honest. We’ve all met at least one person we’ve been tempted to try it out on. But processed food? That’s just evil.”

  I started to make a crack about Katie’s sweater and sock combo being evil when I realized we were walking in front of Paws. In a moment of panic, I hunched down to a squatted position and scurried, nearly crab-like, to the other side of the large window. Watson let out a startled yip. Upon reaching safety, I straightened once more, then realized Katie was no longer beside me.

  She stood right in front of the pet store’s window, staring at me. “What in the world was that?”

  “Get over here.” I motioned frantically at her until she complied. “The owner has two corgis, and he’s desperate to have a playdate with Watson.”

  Katie glanced back at Paws. “What’s wrong with playdates? Sounds like the cutest thing I can imagine. So cute that I might need to find a place that makes ugly Christmas sweaters for corgis, get the three of them together, and voila, I could have next year’s Christmas card.”

  “Number one, something’s off about Paulie. He’s very nice, but there’s something I can’t put my finger on. Not to mention he named his corgis after those two eels in The Little Mermaid movie.” I pulled the strand of hair that had blown in front of my eyes and tucked it behind my ear. “And two, you know that trying to wrangle Watson into a sweater would make Opal seem like an angelic cherub.”

  “Nah. Watson loves me. But even if he didn’t, I’d just distract him with baked goods until I got him dressed.” Katie motioned over her shoulder with her thumb. “And while we’re listing things, my second point is that I want to see you do that every single year. It’s our new Christmas tradition. All five foot ten of you scrunched down and scurrying over the sidewalk in plain view of all the tourists, thinking that somehow that made you invisible from the window.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but then saw a mental picture of the scene she described and felt my cheeks burn. “Fine. Good point. It was just a moment of panic. Let’s move along before Paulie truly does notice me.”

  “Sweetie, if he didn’t notice that display, I think you’re safe.”

  We finally went in a few stores, and Katie picked out horrendous knickknack after horrendous knickknack. Boxes of chocolate-covered caramel balls labeled elk droppings, potholders with scantily clad park rangers on them, and pinecone owls with felt scarves.

  “You know, everyone you work with already lives here, right? They won’t actually want any of that.”

  “As if that’s the point.” After finishing the north side of the street, we’d paused and put the purchases in Katie’s car, then began making our way up the south side. When we were directly in front of the Cozy Corgi, Katie held a gloved hand up to the window and peered in. “Wow! Look at all those boxes. You made a lot of progress today.”

  I’d nearly forgotten why my back was aching. “I did. I think tomorrow’s supposed to be a little warmer, so I’ll crack open the windows and see if I can air the shop out some. Then maybe I can start shelving the books.”

  “It’s going to be wonderful, Fred. I can feel it.” Katie pulled back from the window, and we continued down the sidewalk. “Have you decided what to do with the second story yet?”

  That consideration had been playing in the back of my mind all day. “I stopped in at the T-shirt printing place yesterday afternoon. The owner mentioned the possibility of putting my logo on T-shirts, hoodies, and hats and such. I can turn the top floor into Cozy Corgi merchandise. I was sort of thinking it was silly, but after seeing you buy a week’s salary worth of junk about Estes Park, maybe I’m sitting on a gold mine and don’t even know it.”

  She shrugged but lacked some of her typical enthusiasm. “Well, that’s an idea, I suppose.”

  “Why? Sounds like you have a thought?”

  Katie hesitated, then shrugged again. “No, and I’m sure some merchandise would be cute, but I don’t think an entire floor of it would be the way to go.” She was distracted for a moment as we passed a pizza parlor. “You know what, I think I’m almost done shopping. Let’s make the toy store the final shop and then grab dinner. Sound good?”

  “I get to be done shopping and eat? I knew you loved me.” Plus, I’d get to be inside Bushy Evergreen’s Workshop again. After Barry’s history lesson the night before, I wanted to see what else I might notice.

  “Great. I’ll make it fast, and then—” She glanced back at me, her eyes widening, and then a goofy grin spread over her face as she pointed. “We might need to take care of that situation first.”

  I glanced back to see Watson squatting on the sidewalk, glaring at us for interrupting his privacy. “My fault for giving him the scone.” Sliding my purse off my shoulder, I dug through, searching for the waste bags. Then I remembered I’d taken them out earlier in the day. But I’d left them on the counter. We were only a couple of stores down from the Cozy Corgi. I gestured toward the next block. “Why don’t you go ahead? I left the bags at my shop. I’ll go get one to take care of this and then meet you at the toy store.”

  “I don’t mind waiting.”

 
“No, go on. This means we get to dinner quicker.”

  “You sure know how to convince a girl, I’ll give you that.” Katie gave a little wave. “See you in a second.”

  I paused to let Watson finish his business, and then we hurried back to the Cozy Corgi. The waste bags weren’t on the counter. I started to do a quick search of the store, then realized they might’ve rolled anywhere as I was moving boxes, and with the tourists outside Christmas shopping, it was only a matter of moments before someone’s shoe would turn the search into a moot point. I retrieved a large wad of toilet paper from the restroom, locked the shop back up, and rushed toward the ice cream parlor, moving quicker than Watson desired, practically dragging him.

  By the time we got there, sure enough, the crisis was over and the damage done. Fearing that Watson’s and my unintended victim was now inside the ice cream parlor glaring at us through the window, I hurried away once more, this time, refusing to give in to my new inclination to lower myself like a moron and rush out of view.

  Once we were several stores down, I paused to glare at Watson, then reminded myself it wasn’t his fault. I was the one slacking on motherly doggy duties. Watson was simply doing what dogs do.

  “Well, they didn’t kick us out of town when we found a dead body in our shop. Surely dirtying a tourist’s shoes won’t be the deal breaker.”

  We crossed the intersection leading to the next block that held my uncles’ antique store, Rocky Mountain Imprints, and the toyshop. When we passed Wings of the Rockies, I was tempted once more to crawl past the window. I had to break that inclination and quick! The owner of the wild-bird store and I weren’t fans of each other. I hesitated at the door to the toyshop as I had a realization, then muttered conspiratorially to Watson. “We’ve only been in town a month, and if we count the ice cream parlor, there are already three locations we need to avoid. Maybe they should kick us out of town.”