Ho-Ho-Homicide (A Liss MacCrimmon Mystery Book 8)

by Kaitlyn Dunnett

  Another silence descended.

  “I’m not making this up.”

  “I didn’t say you were. But facts are almost always subject to different interpretations.”

  Liss frowned at the phone. “Do you think I’m imagining some unknown enemy?”

  Sherri’s chuckle was oddly reassuring. “Knowing you? Hard to say. You’ve got good instincts. On the other hand, you’ve been going nonstop for a long time. You’re overtired and stressed out. Your mind could be playing tricks on you.”

  “So now I’m nuts? Thanks a lot!”

  “You’re the most sane person I know. Let me do some checking on the two cold cases and on your juvenile delinquent and get back to you.”

  Liss had to be content with that.

  “Son of a bitch!” Pete exclaimed. “Why the hell would somebody try to kill Dan?”

  “Whoa! Who said they were trying to kill him?”

  “Hurt him, then.”

  “Get him and Liss out of the way temporarily. Maybe. And that’s only if we assume Liss hasn’t been letting her imagination run wild.”

  “Liss is impulsive, sure, and she’s been known to leap to the wrong conclusion a time or two, but she’s not a flake. And she’s always been good at noticing details. I’ll put money on her instincts anytime.”

  They were in their apartment on Sunday evening, shortly before Sherri had to leave for work. As soon as the children were safely asleep, she’d filled him in on everything Liss had told her. In a second phone conversation late that afternoon, she’d been able to reassure her friend that there was nothing alarming in Andrea Dutton’s past. She’d also passed on what she’d uncovered concerning John Doe and Simeon Snowe. There had been precious little to find, even stretching to the limit her authority to access confidential police reports.

  “You’re sure there was nothing in that juvie record?” Pete asked.

  Sherri hadn’t been able to share details with Liss, a civilian, but Pete was a fellow officer of the law, as well as her husband. “Some life of crime,” she scoffed. “Andrea Dutton and a group of her friends raided an orchard. They’d been at a party where liquor was readily available and no one was asking to see an ID. Eight of them were caught pitching apples at each other out of open car windows.”

  Two cars had been racing side by side down a two-lane road when they were spotted by a deputy sheriff. The operators of both vehicles had been charged with driving to endanger. The passengers had been taken in for petty theft, vandalism, and littering.

  “Andrea’s parents bailed their daughter out, paid her fine, and that was the end of it . . . except in the minds and memory of one of New Boston’s more upright citizens.”

  “Make that uptight.” Pete’s grin and the reminiscent gleam in his eyes told her he’d probably chucked a few stolen apples of his own back in the day.

  “Most kids that age do stupid things,” Sherri agreed. She certainly had. “And most luck out and never get caught. Did Liss ever tell you about the time she, uh, borrowed Moose Mayfield’s truck?”

  “Hey! Officer of the law here. I don’t want to know.”

  “Trust me, the statute of limitations has long since run out on that one. My point is that I was able to reassure Liss with a clear conscience. What Andrea did as a teenager was no big deal. She’s unlikely to be the one who’s out to get them. The problem is that no one else on that list seems a likely villain, either.”

  Sherri left Pete in the living room while she ducked into the kitchen to make herself a sandwich to take to work. She didn’t come home for lunch when her meal break fell in the middle of the night. She was putting a package of cold cuts and a loaf of bread back into the refrigerator when Pete joined her. His lighthearted mood was conspicuous by its absence.

  “Somebody killed that John Doe,” he announced.

  “True, but it wasn’t necessarily anyone who’s still living in New Boston.”

  “Maybe you should make a few calls to New York.”

  “I’m pushing my luck as it is.” Sherri grabbed the paper sack containing her lunch, ready to head out, but she hesitated in the doorway to the living room. “Do you remember hearing anything about this murder or Snowe’s disappearance at the time?”

  Pete shook his head. “They must have kept the John Doe quiet. As for the missing man, looking for him would have been one search out of many.”

  Sherri nodded. Some missing persons turned up. Some didn’t. Since Snowe hadn’t disappeared from Carrabassett County, no one from around here had been involved in looking for him.

  “What else did you tell Liss?” Pete asked.

  “There wasn’t much I could say. On the surface, it looks like she’s making a mountain out of a molehill. I tried to be reassuring. After all, she and Dan are stuck there for at least a few more days. She shouldn’t have to spend that time worrying about some unknown adversary and dreaming up worst-case scenarios.”

  Sherri lifted her uniform jacket off the coatrack. Pete, having followed her from the kitchen, helped her into it. He left his hands resting on her shoulders. “You’ve reassured her, and now you’re the one who’s worrying.”

  “She’ll be fine. If that oil spill was real and deliberate, then the most logical motive was to get Dan and Liss out of the Snowe house long enough for someone to retrieve some kind of incriminating evidence. They got their chance. So, assuming they already found whatever it was they were looking for, there’s no reason to go back and no reason to cause Liss and Dan any more trouble.”

  “A nice pat solution.”

  “Yeah. So why am I not buying it?”

  “Because you don’t believe in coincidences any more than Liss does. She’s going to figure that the dead guy and the disappearance and Dan’s fall are all connected somehow, and she’s going to keep on asking questions. Questions make people nervous, especially people who have something to hide.”

  Sherri turned in his arms until she could see his face. “She’ll be busy taking care of Dan. Maybe she won’t have time to get into trouble.”

  Pete’s skeptical expression was not reassuring. They both knew Liss MacCrimmon Ruskin way too well.

  A glance at her watch reminded Sherri that she had to get moving, even though the PD was only across the town square from the apartment. It didn’t set a good example when the chief was late relieving the officer on duty.

  Pete’s voice stopped her at the front door. “What do you really want to do?”

  Sherri answered without stopping to think. “Provide Liss with backup.” She frowned. Where had that come from? “With Dan laid up,” she added, “she’s on her own there.”

  “I just put in my last eight-to-four shift,” Pete said. “I’ve got the next few days free.”

  “You think you should go to New Boston?”

  “If there is a connection, we’ll both feel better if I’m there. If there’s nothing to it, I can still help Liss out. I’ll bet Dan is hell to live with when he’s under the weather.”

  “What about the kids? We can’t leave them alone when I’m working nights.”

  “Then maybe it’s time we did something nice for my mother. She’s been after us to let Amber stay overnight at her house. How about we let her have Amber and Adam? In fact, if she agrees, you and I can both spend a few days in New Boston.”

  “I can’t just take time off from work!”

  “You’re on night shift. You know it will be a cinch to find a part-timer willing to fill in for you. Besides, what’s the point of being the chief of police if you can’t pull rank once in a while?”

  Chapter Seven

  Over breakfast Monday morning, Liss couldn’t stop yawning. Neither she nor Dan had slept well. He’d had a hard time finding a comfortable position for his ankle, and every time he’d thrashed about, the movement had woken her up. When she had slept, her dreams had not been restful. She retained vague memories of unidentified bodies and gigantic marching bottles of olive oil.

  “You should have sl
ept in the upstairs bedroom,” Dan said when Liss fell prey to yet another jaw-popping yawn.

  “I’d have been lonely up there.”

  “You’d have gotten a good night’s sleep.” He sounded grumpy, or maybe envious that she’d had a choice.

  “No, I wouldn’t. I’d have been too worried that you’d get up in the wee hours and fall trying to hobble to the downstairs bathroom.”

  “Hey! I managed it.”

  Liss sent him a skeptical look and took another sip of her coffee. She’d listened, holding her breath, while he’d stumbled around on his crutches. True, he hadn’t fallen, but to judge by all the thumping and banging, it had been a near thing. She’d needed all the willpower she possessed to stay under the covers. She hadn’t drawn an easy breath until he crawled back into bed beside her.

  “How’s the head today?” she asked.

  “Not too bad.” But he didn’t meet her eyes.

  “Uh-huh.”

  “It’s still sore, okay?” The admission made him as grouchy as an old bear that had been awakened too early from hibernation.

  “I’m not surprised. You whacked yourself a good one. Any dizziness?”

  “No. And no double vision, either.” He managed a weak smile. “Things are definitely getting better.”

  Liss swallowed the last of her coffee and began to clear the table, her mind on her list of “symptoms to watch for.”

  “What time is your class?” Dan asked.

  She turned a blank stare his way, and he chuckled.

  “Exercise class? In New Boston? The one you were so gung ho to sign up for on Saturday?”

  Liss had forgotten all about it, what with the stay in the hospital and her worry over what had caused Dan to fall in the first place. She’d been only partially reassured by Sherri’s follow-up call late the previous day. There was nothing in Andy Dutton’s juvenile record to be concerned about, but that didn’t mean the young woman was dealing honestly with them now. Liss was still charged with making recommendations to Gina about the future of the Christmas tree farm.

  “So, are you going to class or not?”

  “I didn’t make a definite commitment. I’d just as soon stay here with you.”

  “I don’t need a babysitter, Liss.” For an instant, temper sparked in his molasses-brown eyes, but it was quickly replaced by contrition. “Sorry. I don’t mean to snap at you. But for God’s sake, stop treating me like I’m made of glass. You know you’ll feel better if you give that knee of yours a workout.”

  “The knee is fine.” This time she was the one who sounded testy.

  Washing the few dishes they’d used for a breakfast of ham and eggs gave Liss time to think. The more time that passed, the harder it became to believe that anyone had been out to get them. She’d been stressed and overwrought. She’d overreacted. Maybe someone had accidentally broken a bottle of olive oil and cleaned most of it up, leaving only that one slippery spot next to the truck. A random prank wasn’t out of the question, either. And Dan was right. He didn’t need her hovering over him every minute.

  She rinsed soapy water off the last plate and placed it in the drying rack. “You’re right,” she admitted without turning around. “A workout would do me good.”

  “Where did you put that schedule of classes?”

  “It’s in my bag. I’ll get—”

  The thump of her heavy purse landing on the kitchen table cut her off. She’d set it on the floor beside her chair to make room for them to eat.

  “Aerobics, right?” Paper rustled. “That class starts at ten o’clock. You’ve got plenty of time to get into your warm-up clothes and make the drive into town.”

  “Are you angling to get a glimpse of me in my leotard?” Liss kept her tone light, teasing him to cover up the fact that she didn’t like leaving him on his own.

  When she turned away from the sink, her misgivings increased. Dan was hurting. She could tell by looking at him—the stiff way he sat, the stoic expression on his face. He’d closed his eyes against a spasm of pain.

  How could she leave him alone? He could barely walk, and he was recovering from a concussion. Whether he thought he needed someone to look after him or not, she ought to stay right where she was to keep an eye on him.

  Dan’s eyes popped open. “I love the way you look in that leotard,” he said. “Who wouldn’t?” He made a production out of smacking his lips. “Skintight and formfitting. It’s one of my favorite outfits.”

  His imitation of a dirty old man made her laugh in spite of herself. “Good to see you feeling so chipper, Grandpa.”

  “Come over here and I’ll show you exactly how chipper I am.” He patted his lap.

  “Behave, or I’ll lock you in your room.”

  She pulled out her own chair and sat.

  Dan handed over the printed list of classes offered at Dance-Ex. “There’s no reason not to go. I can manage on my own for a couple of hours. Besides, I need you to pick up new batteries for the smoke and carbon monoxide alarms. I noticed the day we got here that they haven’t been changed since Snowe vanished. I meant to pick some up at the grocery store on Saturday, but I forgot.”

  Liss fished out her tablet and wrote “batteries” at the top of a blank page. “What size?”

  “Nine volt.”

  “Anything else?”

  He shook his head, wincing when the movement made his headache throb.

  “Dan, are you sure?”

  “I’ll be fine. And I promise I won’t do anything more strenuous than watch TV while you’re gone. Cross my heart and hope to die.” He made the appropriate gesture.

  Liss wished he’d settled for a pinkie swear.

  It will be good to have a short break from each other, she told herself. Besides, if she didn’t go, Dan would wonder why. She was a creature of habit when it came to her exercise routine. Breaking her pattern would raise questions Liss didn’t want to answer. She had no intention of worrying her husband by telling him about the olive oil in the parking lot or the scenarios she’d imagined after she realized what had caused his fall. If it turned out, as she hoped, that her fears were groundless, he’d never have to know a thing about them.

  With a sigh, she stood. “I’m going. But you’d better behave yourself, Mister. Otherwise it’s thirty lashes with a wet noodle.”

  She left him smiling and went to change her clothes. She still felt uneasy about going into town, but what alternative was there? She’d come straight back, and before she left, she’d make sure Dan’s phone was right next to him on the sofa in case of an emergency.

  Juliette Cressy looked surprised to see Liss walk into Dance-Ex. “Minimum of five sessions,” she said, “paid in advance.”

  The none-to-subtle reminder was unnecessary. Liss had written Juliette a check before she left the Christmas tree farm. The dance and fitness instructor regarded it with suspicion but apparently decided that a bank in Fallstown was sufficiently “local” to allow her to accept it.

  The other women in the class came in all shapes, sizes, ages, and levels of ability. There were ten of them in all. Liss recognized two. One was Rowena Luckenbill, although it took Liss a minute to realize that the statuesque female in the royal blue leotard and the woman who wore flowing, concealing gypsy-style garments in her occult shop were one and the same.

  The second familiar face was that of the young brunette who’d nearly bowled Liss over on her first visit to Dance-Ex. When Liss introduced herself, the young woman supplied her name—Kitty Sloan—but they had no opportunity to talk further before class began.

  Juliette was an adequate if uninspired teacher. She was also a hard taskmaster, exactly what Liss needed.

  Kitty and a redhead who looked to be in her early twenties were the youngest members of the group. Both were fit enough to keep pace with Juliette. Liss held her own better than the others—all more mature ladies—but she got her money’s worth out of the workout. Juliette didn’t cut anyone any slack. When someone lagged behind or s
topped to catch her breath, she shouted words of encouragement that sounded closer to taunts until the “shirker” rejoined the routine.

  By the time the hour came to an end, Liss was drenched in sweat but full of energy and bonhomie. She was grateful for the towel Kitty handed her to wipe perspiration off her face, since she’d forgotten to bring one, and followed her chattering classmates into the changing room. Liss had worn jeans and a crewneck pullover over her exercise clothing on the drive into town, but she peeled off the leotard before donning those garments for the return journey.

  “I guess you’ve all been taking aerobics together for some time,” she said to Kitty, who was unself-consciously stripping down to bare skin.

  “Some longer than others,” said the brunette, reaching into a pink duffel bag to pull out a thong and a lacy bra. As she put them on, Liss couldn’t help but notice that she had a hickey on one butt cheek.

  She wasn’t the only one who caught sight of it. The redhead hooted. “One of the boys get a little frisky?” she asked.

  “Oh, ha-ha!” Kitty finished dressing, apparently accustomed to such good-natured teasing.

  “Occupational hazard, right?”

  “You should know, Josie,” Kitty shot back.

  The redhead turned to Liss. “Josie Underhill,” she said. “It’s nice to have someone else in the class who can keep up.”

  “Liss Ruskin. Nice to meet you.”

  The changing room had emptied rapidly. Liss supposed that Juliette’s students had to hurry home or to work. Only Kitty remained by the time Liss was ready to leave. The young brunette sat on the bench, polishing off an energy bar. Together with a bottle of spring water, it had materialized from the depths of the pink duffel.

  “Do you teach here, too?” Liss asked, remembering that Kitty had called Juliette “boss” when she’d arrived late at Dance-Ex on Saturday.

  “Sometimes. Aerobics and gymnastics.”

  “No ballroom dancing?”

  “Me?” Kitty gave a snort of laughter. “The only dance I’m any good at is the horizontal mambo.”