Snowflake Bay Cozy Mysteries Boxset 1

by C Farren

  “That was the hardest thing I ever had to do, but I felt a calling. People needed me.”

  “Grandpa understood. Even though he couldn’t remember you, he knew how brave and selfless you were. He was so proud. I’m so proud.”

  “I know he had a mostly good life. I know you’ve all had mostly good lives. I watched from up here. It just would’ve nice to be there.”

  Wren looked up with wonder as a flock of angels flew by. Fiona laughed.

  “Are you leaving?” Wren asked. “Is this a goodbye?”

  Fiona shook her head. “Your life is still a complete train wreck. I doubt you’ll be getting rid of me any time soon.”

  “My life is not a train wreck, merely a ... derailment.”

  “See! You’re already getting a little bit more optimistic, and that was after two murders and someone shooting you. We could win this yet.”

  They watched as a simple wooden boat floated under the bridge. In it were two angels, a man and a woman, holding hands. Their wing feathers were golden. They looked up at them and waved.

  “Can we stay here a while longer?” Wren asked. She felt so content. “I don’t want to go back yet.”

  “Of course!” Fiona was giddy with excitement. She grabbed her hands. “Let me take you to see Brock. We can have lunch at my favorite burger place, and then we can go to David Bowie’s club and watch him play and...”

  WREN OPENED HER EYES. She was in hospital. She was fairly sure it was the same bed she ended up in when Veronica threw that brick at her.

  Damn it! I didn’t want to leave! I wanted to see David Bowie!

  “Wrenny!” Dot screamed. “Oh, you’re awake!”

  Wren groaned. “What happened? Where’s Cedric?”

  “Don’t you worry about him. Just try and get better.”

  She felt panic rising with her, erasing all the serenity going to Heaven had brought her.

  “Tell me what happened to Cedric,” Wren asked.

  “He tried to shoot you again after you went down. Sheriff Fisher shot him, and he fell into a coma. They don’t think he’s ever going to come out of it.”

  A little part of her felt sorry for him. Only a little part. He’d only wanted to be loved. In the end that desperation had sent him down a dangerous path of obsession and murder. Now he was going to spend the rest of his life in a coma. Was it a fitting end, or just simply sad?

  “I think it’s safe to say that Cedric was the latest in a long line of dating disasters,” Wren muttered. “I think I’ll become a nun.”

  “You really don’t have any luck, do you?” Her mum gave her a kiss on the cheek. “There’s someone out there for you. I just know it. You have to be patient. They may come now, or next week, or when you’re my age, but I know they’ll come.”

  Wren didn’t believe her. Her love life had to be cursed. There was no other explanation for how calamitous it was. For the time being she wanted to concentrate on getting well. After that? She had no idea. She was sure Fiona would help her.

  CEDRIC LOOKED LIKE he was having an afternoon nap. The tubes inserted into his nose made him look sinister, like some creature that had been created in a lab. He couldn’t hurt anyone now, or at least not physically anyway.

  “You know everything?” Wren asked.

  Jordan nodded. “Sheriff Fisher told me.”

  They continued to stare at the comatose Cedric for a while longer. Every time a piece of machinery made a noise her stomach lurched, wondering whether this was it, was he waking up?

  “You need to know that man is not your father,” said Wren. “Garrett was your father.”

  “It doesn’t change the fact that Cedric killed my parents and left me with a gene that might mean I get cancer one day.” He closed the curtain on Cedric. “I’m going to get myself some tests done. I’ve had a bad stomach lately, as you remember from all the wind I’ve been passing. I need to know if there’s something wrong.”

  She nodded as he clutched her hand.

  “I wish I’d known Dad was gay,” Jordan admitted. “I wish I’d known how it was eating him up inside.”

  “It doesn’t bother you that he was cheating on your mom?” Wren asked.

  “It does, but he was a good man, and I know how guilty it would’ve been making him.” He sighed. “I don’t know what to think. My mom lied to me her whole life. My dad lied to me and to himself. They were deeply flawed people, but I loved them.”

  Wren spotted Anthony talking to her mother at the end of the corridor. He looked like someone had stomped on his foot. Dot kissed him on the cheek and walked away.

  She’s just broken up with him. Poor Mom.

  “Anyway,” said Jordan. “I’m selling the Metropolis and heading back to college tomorrow. I’m never coming back to Snowflake Bay ever again.”

  Wren nodded. “I understand.”

  He squeezed her hands. “I didn’t use you for sex because I was horny or bored or because I wanted to see what it was like with an older woman. I really did want you. You made me feel special, and we had some good times, but... it wasn’t love.”

  “It wasn’t love for me either.”

  “I’ll always remember you.”

  He kissed her on the lips, lingering for what felt like forever. When they parted she smiled and watched him leave.

  A FEW DAYS LATER WREN was sitting on her front porch with Fiona, drinking iced coffee. She’d made it herself and it was quite delicious. The weather wasn’t up to much, but the orange fall leaves that littered the street more than made up for it.

  “How is the shoulder?” Fiona asked.

  “Better now that you’ve given it a little bit of angel healing,” said Wren. She couldn’t help but prod the site on her arm where the bullet had grazed her. “But I think it’ll scar. Every time I see it, I’ll be reminded of that awful man.”

  “Just don’t think about it.”

  A car pulled up, and Wren’s parents got out. They looked a little ruffled, and she suspected the worst.

  “You sure took your time!” she shouted, stopping in front of her dad. He wasn’t giving anything away. “Your court hearing finished an hour ago.”

  “Your mother and I headed home to celebrate,” said Wick. He winked at Dot. “We’ve just... finished.”

  Wren grimaced, but persevered. “You’re not locked up, so I assume it was not guilty?”

  Her mother looked away, trying to stop herself from crying.

  “No, not exactly,” said Wick. “Reba did brilliantly. She told the judge all about you being shot, and the death threats, and my gambling addiction, and we agreed that I serve six months in prison with a further ten years’ probation, and I have to go to gambler’s anonymous. It’s not what I wanted, but it’s better than I deserve.”

  Wren didn’t know what to say.

  “That’s not good,” said Wren, finally. “I don’t want you to go to jail.”

  “I deserve it,” Wick stated. “I robbed people in my town.”

  “When do you have to hand yourself in?” Fiona asked.

  “Tomorrow morning,” Wick answered. “Until then I want to spend time with my family.”

  Wren hugged her father, determined not to cry. This was the best outcome they could have gotten. If this had gone to a trial with a jury, he could’ve gotten years.

  How am I going to say goodbye?

  THE PARTY HAD BEEN going full swing for hours now. They’d drank and sung karaoke and told stories. It had been marvelous, just the four of them. Her father had even remarked at one point that Fiona felt like she was part of the family. If only he knew.

  After a while Wren needed fresh air. She found herself on the front porch again, staring at the stars. The cats were sat on the front lawn, all in a row. They were up to something, but she wasn’t sure what. It was best to leave them to it.

  Are they waiting for something?

  A van pulled up outside the house across the street. It was then that Wren noticed that the for-sale sign was gone.
Had someone bought the house? Why were they moving in during the middle of the night?

  A man got out of the car. He was wearing a very familiar coat. He looked across the road and waved at her. When his eyes caught on the three cats he put his hands to his mouth in shock.

  “Rocky?” he called. It was Benedict. “Is that you?”

  He ran across the road, and Gracie’s new ginger friend hurled himself up into his arms, rubbing against his cheek. The man was almost in tears.

  “This cat is yours?” Wren asked, walking up to him. “What a small world.”

  “Rocky’s been missing for ten days,” said Benedict. His eyes were moist. “I’ve missed him so much.”

  “He’s been hanging around my cats,” Wren explained. “I thought he was a stray.”

  “It’s weird he ended up here,” said Benedict. “How did he know I’d bought this house?”

  “Cats are mysterious creatures.”

  He smiled and put his precious feline back on the grass. The cat ran to join his friends and they disappeared around the side of the house to play.

  She laughed. Benedict’s familiarity seemed obvious now. “That night on the pier. I’ve been through so much since then. It feels like a lifetime ago. Why did you have a British accent?”

  He looked guilty. “I was thinking about retiring Bieber McIntyre and becoming some sort of Helen Mirren type. I was using the accent everywhere. It was driving my friends mad.” He looked solemn for a moment. “I read about you in the local papers. I heard you got shot in the leg by a deranged serial killer. That’s nasty.”

  “I got shot in the arm, and Cedric wasn’t a serial killer. He only killed two people. I think you have to kill three people to be a serial killer?” She couldn’t believe she knew that. It made her sound macabre. “I’d like to say I’ve been through worse but I’d be lying. But I’m fine. Perfectly fine.”

  “It’s okay not to be fine.”

  “I am fine. Really.”

  Before she knew what was happening Benedict was pulling her into a hug. She leaned into his strong chest and cried, letting out all her grief and frustrations of the last week. It felt good.

  Wren pulled away and wiped at her eyes. “Thanks for that. I needed a good cry.”

  “I’m always here,” he offered.

  She smiled. “Thanks.”

  He gave her a wink and walked back across the street, Rocky the cat in his arms. Wren headed back inside to re-join the party.

  Book 2 –

  Mrs. Claus Is Dead

  Chapter 1

  “What was it like to get shot by a serial killer?” he asked.

  Wren rolled her eyes. All she wanted was to go on a date with a nice man and have a nice meal. It had gone well so far. Ryan had found her purse on the street and delivered it back to her house personally. They’d immediately hit it off. He was gorgeous, owned his own used car business, and he didn’t look in the least bit like he was a murderer. How could things go wrong?

  “I didn’t get shot exactly,” said Wren. “The bullet just grazed my shoulder.”

  “That must have hurt,” said Ryan. He took a sip of his beer. “Did you know he was a killer when you went out with him? Did he have killer eyes? Hmm?”

  “He hadn’t killed anybody yet when I went out with him.”

  They continued to eat their Vietnamese dinner. He’d taken her to a restaurant in the city. It had appeared quite posh from the outside. The sign outside said it was the highest rated Asian eatery in New England. The inside was another matter. The chairs and tables were old, with peeling plastic on the legs. The tiled floor was sticky and greasy. The ceiling had ominous black stains on it. The clientele appeared to be scantily dressed young Asian women having dinner with smartly dressed geriatric businessmen.

  Is this a place for prostitutes?

  She would’ve preferred Wendy’s.

  The food was nice though.

  “What did the body look like?” Ryan asked. “Was there any blood?”

  Wren stared down at her plate and dropped her knife. She felt sick. “Can we not talk about the murders?” she asked respectfully. One of the girls giggled on the opposite table and winked at her. “They happened, and I found the killer, and it’s over. I want to forget it.”

  “I’m fascinated. You’ve had a colorful life.”

  She couldn’t argue with that. She had led a colorful life, or the last few months of it anyway. Still, she didn’t want to be reminded of it. It only made her sad, especially as the murders were connected with her dad going to prison.

  Wren’s father Wick had become a gambling addict. In order to pay off his debts he’d gone back to a life of crime, which included robbing local businesses of their money and valuables. This had then led to him being accused of killing a local coffee shop owner called Garrett, which in turn forced him to confess to burglary to stop himself being sent down for murder. Wick was currently doing a six month stretch. She missed her father terribly. She’d lived in Snowflake Bay her whole life and there hadn’t been a week that had gone by when she hadn’t seen either of her parents.

  “I’m sorry,” said Ryan. He smiled shyly, which endeared him to her just a tiny bit. “I’m just interested in things like that.”

  “Oh?” she asked. “In what?”

  “True crime. My last girlfriend had her whole family murdered, and the one before that witnessed a gangland killing. It’s amazing.”

  He was only dating me because he’s a grim true crime junky, isn’t he?

  He’s a ghoul.

  “You look horrified,” said Ryan. His smile was now a little creepy. “We could break the tension and go on the local murder tour. Did you know four women got strangled in this very restaurant?”

  Wren smiled, pushed her chair back, and ran for the door. Outside she walked straight into a Santa Claus from the Salvation Army, knocking over his bucket. His bell rolled across the icy ground and landed directly in front of his big black boots.

  “I’m so sorry,” said Wren, helping him to right himself. “Are you okay?”

  The Santa patted down his suit. “I’ll be fine. It’s not as if I was making any money anyway. Nobody seems to be in a mood for giving this year.”

  Wren picked up the red bucket. It was empty. She opened her purse and pushed a twenty inside. He smiled gratefully.

  “That’s very kind of you,” said Santa. He scratched at his fake beard. “Dear me, Wren, this fake beard is really itchy.”

  “How do you know who I am?” Wren asked suspiciously.

  The Santa guffawed and pulled his beard down. It was her Uncle Camden, her father’s brother and Reba’s dad. She couldn’t help but smile. Camden and Warwick weren’t twins, but they looked so much alike it was a little unnerving.

  “Since when do you do this?” she asked. A posh couple walked by. Wren almost shoved the bucket in their faces. They ignored her and carried on.

  “I wanted to do my bit,” said Camden. He pulled the beard off and sighed with pleasure. “Sometimes I don’t know why I bother. The suit is itchy, the beard is itchy, and I’m freezing my backside off here. I’m surprised it hasn’t snowed.”

  As if to rub it in flakes of snow started to drift down from the night sky.

  “Why are you really doing it?” Wren asked.

  Camden looked guilty before saying, “Jenny said I had to do something wholesome and for charity to prove to the town that I wasn’t a criminal like my brother. Her words, not mine.”

  “I don’t blame you.”

  “I went to visit him yesterday. He seemed quite jolly actually, even after spending two months inside. He wished me well, though I could see he missed this. It’s usually him who prances around as Santa.”

  Her father did seem to be taking to prison life quite well. He looked healthy and not in the least bit depressed, which was surprising. He was even working in the prison library to pass the time. She’d seen far too many prison dramas on TV. For some reasons she’d expected him to
have to avoid getting shivved every day.

  “Do you want a lift home?” she asked him.

  He laughed. “I would love it.”

  WREN STOPPED THE CAR outside of Camden’s house. Every part of it, from the garden to the roof, was decorated with lights and reindeers and Santas. It was very bright. She was surprised the place couldn’t be seen from space. She smiled, thinking about the astronauts on the International Space Station, looking down at the Earth and wondering who had all those gaudy holiday lights.

  “I haven’t decorated yet,” Wren admitted. “Dad usually helps me with it.”

  “You can always call me if you need a little help,” Camden offered.

  “Thanks, but I want to do it myself. I need to do it myself.”

  Decorating the house for Christmas had only occurred to her just then. It had seemingly slipped her mind, as had most everything else to do with Christmas. How had she let this happen? She’d been determined that her experiences with Cedric wouldn’t ruin her life, but that was exactly what had happened.

  I need to go out and buy a tree.

  “I’ll be at the Rickard’s Toys on Main Street tomorrow giving out presents,” Camden explained. “Pop in if you like.”

  “I might just do that,” she said.

  He kissed her on the cheek and got out of the car. It was snowing heavily now. By the time he’d reached the front door he was covered in a blanket of white. When he went inside she caught a glimpse of Aunt Jenny. She gave Wren the dirtiest of looks before closing the door with a loud slam.

  Aunt Jenny was a curious fish. She’d always gotten along with her, but there’d always been an aloofness there. Jenny didn’t much like socializing with the family and liked to spend time with herself. When she was forced to socialize, she would be quiet and sometimes rude. Judging by what Uncle Camden had said, Wick’s imprisonment had really affected her. Did she think the whole town was judging her for what Wick did? Maybe some of them were, but not the ones who truly knew her.