Mistletoe is Murder : A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries Book 6)

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Mistletoe is Murder : A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries Book 6) Page 2

by Kathy Cranston


  Lottie shrugged. “I didn’t think of calling from the car, and once I got here it was too late. My phone is buried in one of my inside pockets.”

  Jessie eyed her friend’s huge puffy jacket. She could see how finding anything in that might pose a challenge. “It’s okay. Is it fully cooked?”

  Lottie smiled. “Perfectly. Cooked through but it should be juicy and delicious once it’s rested. I can’t do much right in life, but give me a bird or a pot roast.”

  Jessie heaved a sigh of relief as she wrapped her apron around her hand and reached for the other side of the tray. “Thank goodness for that. When I saw you balancing that thing like that, I thought we might end up with turkey a la sidewalk.”

  Chapter 3

  “Oh wow,” Jessie grinned, looking around at the spread on the table.

  It was the most food she had ever seen in one place. She was glad they had pushed the small café tables together instead of hiring out a set of larger tables—because there was a very real risk that those tables might have collapsed under the weight of all the food.

  The huge turkey was the centerpiece, down in the middle of the table near Chief Daly, who had taken on carving duties. Jessie had stood by with empty serving plates and piled them up with turkey to place on either end so nobody would have to wait too long for their turn.

  Julia had cooked two small hams at home and brought them along. Dotted around the table were decorative serving dishes of roast carrots and parsnips, brussels sprouts, delicious roast potatoes cooked in duck fat, cranberry sauce, chestnut stuffing and dozens of other dishes that their guests had brought along.

  “I know, right?” Julia laughed as they gripped their empty plates with anticipation. “How on earth are we supposed to choose? Not to mention the fact that I was supposed to be on a diet.”

  “Nonsense,” Bee said, shaking her head and smiling. “Didn’t you hear? Diets have no place in the holidays.”

  Julia smiled. “I would have said that too, but I’ve been doing boot camp with Chad in the town square. All that exercise makes me want to eat healthily.”

  “Boot camp,” Jessie said as she stacked turkey on the side of her plate and reached for the gravy boat. “When is that? I could use some exercise after all the food I’ve been eating this holiday season. Working in the café makes it impossible to avoid all those Christmas treats.”

  Julia flushed. “It’s kind of unofficial.”

  “I see,” Jessie said quickly as she realized what that meant. Julia and Chad had been acting coy around each other for weeks now. She grinned. “That’s great. I’m happy for you two.”

  Julia shrugged, clearly embarrassed. It was obvious from her slight smile that she wanted to talk about it. “I guess it’s a weird way to date—not like most people who go to the movies or out for dinner. But it works for us.”

  “Quite right, dearie,” Aunt Bee said with such feeling that Jessie looked at her curiously.

  Before she could probe her aunt, little Ricky Palmer shrieked at the other end of the table. “Look! Look! It’s Santa.”

  All of the kid’s heads whipped around toward the kitchen, where he was pointing. Most of the adults chuckled indulgently and turned their heads, Jessie included. She wondered if the chief had decided to go get ready early—knowing him, he had finished his meal quickly and grown restless at the table.

  Seeing nothing, she turned back to watch the kids and their frenzied reaction. Most of them had turned away by now. Jessie shook her head in amusement.

  “They’re so cute. Look at them getting all worked up about Santa. I can’t want to see their faces…” She froze as her eyes landed on Chief Daly.

  She stared at him. He was deep in conversation with Benny Sweet and still dressed in the festive sweater Melanie had bought him as a gift. Jessie turned and glanced toward the back of the café again. She shook her head. Ricky must have been mistaken. He was only five after all.

  Shrugging, Jessie returned her attention to her plate. She reached for the closest dish of roast vegetables and worked her way through the various sides and garnishes. Finally, she had assembled a plate that was about double the size of her usual dinner portion. By now, her mouth was watering with anticipation.

  She speared a forkful of turkey and spread some cranberry sauce onto it with her knife. Lottie was right—the meat was almost buttery. It was so flavorful and juicy, unlike Jessie’s dry and bland attempts at cooking turkey. She sighed happily.

  “Good, isn’t it?” Aunt Bee said, smiling contently across the table.

  Jessie nodded. “It sure is,” she said, reaching for more despite her packed plate. This time, she tried it with the stuffing. She turned and glanced down the table. “Seriously. Lottie is a genius. We should see if she’d be interested in working with us for some lunch specials after the holidays.” Jessie frowned. “Where is she? I assumed she was down at the other end of the table.”

  Melanie shrugged. “I don’t know. Now that you mention it, I haven’t seen her since right after she came back with the turkey. She told me she was going to leave some candles out on the table. When I came out of the kitchen a few minutes later, the candles were still sitting in their box on the counter.”

  ***

  “More stuffing?” Mel asked, passing the bowl to Jessie.

  Jessie shook her head. “No thank you. I couldn’t eat another mouthful if I tried.”

  “Julia? What about you—” Mel started to ask before Jessie grabbed her arm.

  “Did you hear that?”

  Mel shook her head. “No. Hear what?”

  “I don’t know,” Jessie said, frowning. She’d thought she heard a muffled thud, but now she wasn’t so sure. Nobody else seemed to have heard anything and there was so much laughter in the room that it was possible she had imagined it.

  “It’s fine,” Mel said. “It’s probably the carol singers fooling around next door as they get ready.”

  Jessie nodded. That was true. John the barber usually kept a tight rein on his singers, but right then he was deep in conversation with Benny Sweet. The choir was a young group of giddy teens—no doubt they were fooling around in the old antiques store next door, which the new owners had generously opened to give them some space to prepare.

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Jessie said, glancing around the table. Most people appeared to be finished up, but a few were still eating. Claudia had insisted on clearing some empty dishes. Jessie usually wouldn’t dream of doing that while people were still eating, but they needed to make room for the pies.

  Pies—her heart sank at the thought of trying to get through even more food.

  “Go on Jessie,” Julia said. “Take the last roast potato.”

  Jessie shook her head. “No, Julia. You take it. If I eat another potato I’m going to turn into one, and potatoes don’t make very good café owners, do they, Aunt Bee?”

  Aunt Bee rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “I’d say it’d be neck-and-neck with you and the potato right at this moment.”

  Everybody around them laughed, including Jessie. “I guess I should have asked somebody else. Don’t think I won’t remember this when it comes to the speeches at your wedding.”

  Aunt Bee feigned fear. “You wouldn’t dare, Jessie Henderson.”

  Jessie widened her eyes. “Recent events may have persuaded me.”

  Bee sighed. “And I was looking forward to my big day,” she said, shaking her head despondently in a way that made Jessie feel sick with guilt.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I was just kidding around.”

  Bee’s eyes lit up a moment later. “Hah. I knew it,” she cackled.

  “Santa! It’s Santa! Look!”

  Everyone turned in Ricky’s direction. Poor Karen, his mother, had just arrived back from the bathroom and looked mortified. “No, sweetie,” she said in a stage whisper. “Santa’s not here yet. Please, just calm down.”

  But he wasn’t listening to a word she said. “No!” he said
, folding his arms and slamming his back into his chair. “Santa’s here. I saw him!”

  Everybody laughed, but Jessie was too distracted to join in. She looked around and saw that the chief was gone. She stood and hurried to the bathrooms, hoping she could cut him off in time. Otherwise, the kids would be hyperactive before the carols began.

  Chapter 4

  “Chief Daly?” Jessie called, knocking on the door of the first restroom.

  There was no answer. Jessie moved along and was about to knock on the second when she heard the chief’s voice from inside the first.

  “Yes, Jessie. What is it?”

  Relief surged through her. “It’s too early, Chief. Santa comes after the carols, remember? It’s the only way to keeps the kids calm so the adults can hear the singing.”

  “Yup,” the chief said calmly. “I know. We’ve gone through this ten times.”

  “Okay,” Jessie said, frowning. “I just… I’m sorry, but do you mind changing back? If the kids see your costume, they’re not going to sit still until they’ve had a chance to talk to Santa.”

  Jessie heard the faint sound of a toilet flushing. A moment later, the door opened. Chief Daly stood in front of her in the reindeer-emblazoned sweater he’d been wearing all through dinner.

  “I know, Jessie. That’s why I’ll hold off on getting changed until the last minute, just like we talked about.”

  “But…” Jessie said, trailing off. She looked back in the direction of the café.

  Had little Ricky been mistaken again? He could have seen somebody dressed in red and mistakenly thought it was a Santa costume. She ran through the day’s events in her mind. She couldn’t remember anybody dressed in red—she knew that because she’d thought it was strange that the people of Springdale hadn’t come decked out in festive colors. She moved to the doorway and looked out onto the floor. A glance confirmed it.

  Jessie smiled and shook her head. Ricky was a small child and she knew how small children tended to get overexcited in the lead up to the holidays.

  What’s gotten into me? she wondered. I’m starting to see sinister things in the most innocent events. I think it’s time for more eggnog. She started walking back to the table.

  And then she heard it—a faint groan from somewhere behind her. Bewildered, Jessie rushed to the kitchen. There was nobody there. She turned and listened. She couldn’t hear anything over the hustle and bustle of the party. She looked around. If it hadn’t come from the kitchen, the only other place it could have come from was the bathrooms.

  Jessie hurried back there and knocked on the one locked door. There was no answer. She put her head to the door and listened. She couldn’t hear anything, not even that low groaning sound she had heard before.

  Jessie looked around, wondering what she should do.

  “Hello?” she said, knocking on the door.

  There was no still no answer.

  Sighing and hoping she wasn’t going to invade somebody’s privacy, Jessie reached in her pocket for her keys and used the top of one like a screwdriver to carefully prize back the bolt. She pushed open the door and was immediately met with resistance. Jessie pushed again, this time putting her head around the door to try and figure out what was blocking it. She soon saw.

  David Fairway was lying on the floor. Jessie’s hands flew to her mouth. Her first instinct was to scream, but no sound came out. She dropped to her knees and felt desperately for a pulse. She couldn’t find one.

  She jumped up and rushed to the café to raise the alarm but stopped a moment later.

  The kids, she thought in a panic. I can’t just run out there and announce there’s been a murder. The poor things will be terrified. Even I’m terrified and I’m a grown woman. Not only that, but it’ll ruin their Christmas. Possibly forever.

  Jessie shook her head, mind racing. She’d been involved in a number of murder cases, but this situation was different to anything she had faced before. For one, she’d never found a body on the premises of her own café. She looked around frantically, wondering what she should do.

  Chapter 5

  “Chief?” Jessie said, doing her best to smile like she should at a party for all her friends and her best customers. “Can I talk to you for a moment?”

  “Jessie?” he said, looking up. He was sandwiched between John and Benny Sweet, and the three of them had been deep in conversation about summer fishing along the creek.

  “Um… sorry to disturb you, Chief, but… um… I need your help.”

  He turned to the others and smiled. “But it’s my day off. Unless it’s a serious crime…”

  They all laughed.

  If only you knew, Jessie thought, doing her best to keep from groaning.

  They couldn’t know, not until the chief had decided on the best way to share this with the town.

  “I need help with something,” Jessie said.

  “Sure,” the chief said, standing up and patting his belly. “Although I’m not sure how much use I’ll be to you in this situation. The turkey was superb.”

  Jessie nodded. “You’ll have to compliment Lottie. She’s the one responsible.”

  “I figured,” he said. “But I haven’t seen her here. I was surprised at that.”

  Jessie frowned absently. “I know, it’s weird. She was supposed to be here. I’ll go look for her after… Okay, if you don’t mind, Chief…?”

  “I can help too,” Benny said, standing.

  Jessie looked at the chief. A silent understanding passed between them.

  “That’s okay, Benny,” Chief Daly said with a laugh. “The lady wants help. Not to have the kitchen destroyed.”

  Benny guffawed and Jessie took that opportunity to slip away toward the back with the chief hot on her heels. She stopped outside the restroom, which she’d relocked just in case anybody else happened to wander in.

  “What is it?” the chief asked gravely.

  She looked up at him, shaking her head. “It’s David,” she whispered. “I heard a strange noise. At first I thought it was nothing, but then I heard a weird groan when I was on my way back to the table after speaking to you. He’s dead. He must have taken a fall.”

  The chief burst into action, hitting the door with his shoulder.

  “Wait,” Jessie protested, worried the guests would hear the noise. “I can open it.”

  With shaking fingers, she prized the lock back again. The chief burst through and instructed Jessie to stay outside in case anybody tried to get in.

  Jessie felt a wild stab of hope that David was okay after all, but she knew that couldn’t be. She had felt for his pulse—and hadn’t found one. Maybe she was wrong?

  A moment later, the chief opened the door and shook his head.

  “He’s gone?” Jessie whispered, even though she already knew the answer.

  Chief Daly nodded. “He’s lost a lot of blood.”

  Jessie frowned. She’d been trying to figure it out since the chief had gone in there. “What did he fall against? It’s not like there’s anything sharp in there. Was it just the angle…” she trailed off when she saw the look on the chief’s face.

  “He didn’t fall, Jessie,” he said with a heavy sigh. “He was murdered. With a meat thermometer.”

  ***

  Jessie staggered back, blindly grasping for the wall.

  “Is there any bourbon left from the eggnog?” the chief asked, reaching out to steady her.

  “There should be,” Jessie said faintly. “Why? Shouldn’t we…”

  Chief Daly shook his head. “You’ve had a shock. Let’s get you a stiff drink.” He pulled the door closed and reached for the yellow floor sign they used to let people know the bathrooms were closed for cleaning.

  “I should have used that instead of re-locking the door,” Jessie muttered. “It would have saved time. Oh gosh, I shouldn’t even be thinking that way and…”

  The chief pulled her to him, hugging her tight. “Jessie,” he said firmly. “You’ve had a nasty surp
rise. You mind is working overdrive to make sense of it. Come on. Let’s get you comfortable in the kitchen.”

  ***

  “But the kids,” Jessie blurted. “They’ve been so excited about this. We can’t ruin it for them. I don’t want them associating danger with the holidays.”

  The chief tapped his chin and frowned. “True. But I don’t see how we can hide this. We need to get an ambulance. And see if we can get a forensic team out here as soon as possible. Good lord, at the rate we’re going in Springdale I’ll need to seek funding for my own laboratory.”

  Jessie shuddered. “I hope it won’t come to that.”

  The chief sighed and paced the room. Out in the café, the sound of the choir singing had silenced the group. There was no way they could just sneak an ambulance crew past all those people.

  “I have an idea,” Jessie said. “We’ll get the crew to come in the back. I’ll pull Maria aside and see if we can use the bookstore next door. And we’ll go ahead with this thing. I’ll tape off the bathroom and put up a sign telling people to use the other one.”

  “But there might be evidence, Jessie,” the chief said shaking his head. “We can’t allow people to taint it.”

  Jessie darted to her feet for a moment before the chief gently pushed her back down in her chair. “It’s tainted anyway. There have been so many people in and out of these bathrooms between the people who helped us prep and the choir and the guests.”

  “And whoever snuck in and killed David.”

  Jessie felt a jolt of fear. “Oh my gosh,” she said. “How? Nobody could have come in through the front door without being seen, and the back door is locked.”

  “Windows?” he said.

  “Locked.” Jessie looked around. “It has to have been somebody from this group,” she said with a shiver.

  “You’re saying—”

  Just then, the door burst open. Both Jessie and the chief turned and stared in amazement at Lottie, who stood in the doorway to the kitchen.

 

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