“Why don’t you take Jethro while I’m busy at the church and go talk to the television people? I think if they saw him, they couldn’t say no.” She held the pig up to me for a third time. “Who could say no to this face?”
Jethro licked my chin, and I stepped back. Pig slobber. “I have no idea,” I said as I ran my hand under my chin.
“Then it’s settled. I’ll drop Jethro here at the shop before I head over to see Reverend Brook. And I’m afraid it’s going to be a long choir practice. Everyone wants to make sure that we run through the music for Christmas Eve onstage. It has to be perfect. It’s the biggest service for the church every year. I know Reverend Brook is feeling the pressure. Poor man.” She spun on her heels to face the kitchen door. “Now I must be off. There is much to do. There’s no time to delay, not even a moment!” And she was gone.
I stared at the door as it swung back and forth in her wake. What had I gotten myself into this time?
Chapter 13
After Juliet left, I found I was more worried about promising Eric I would help him, essentially promising that I would solve Rocky’s murder, than worried about making Jethro a star. However, making Jethro a star was a worry in the back of my mind too.
I had promised Eric that I would help him, but I wasn’t entirely sure how I would do that. If he’d already told the police his suspicions about Josie, there wasn’t much else I could do unless Josie was innocent. That was more than possible, but if she was obviously guilty, I knew the sheriff would have arrested her by now. He wanted this case closed so that Holmes County could go back to being the picturesque place portrayed on the postcards in all the local gift shops—postcards we too displayed for sale at Swissmen Sweets.
As much as I may have wanted to help Eric, I had to focus on the Christmas Market. I held the front door for Charlotte as she pushed our cart, filled to the brim with peppermint treats, over the threshold and to the street’s edge.
I waved at my grandmother before I let the glass door close.
“You girls have fun!” she called from her post behind the counter.
I waved again and closed the door.
“Think we made enough peppermint candies?” Charlotte asked as she pushed the heavy cart over the curb’s edge and onto Main Street.
I laughed. “This is a two-week event. We might have to make more.”
“Ugh. I’m over peppermint.”
I patted her arm as we crossed the street. “Me too.”
When we reached the square, I looked for any evidence of the trouble that had fallen over Harvest that morning. The one sign that something was amiss was the crime scene tape that blocked the entrance to the gazebo. It was the only thing that marred the lovely holiday scene. At least a dozen vendors peppered the square on the right side of the gazebo, selling everything from baked goods to quilts. An Amish man stuck a sign in the ground outside of the group of freshly cut Christmas trees that read TREES $35–$50. KEIM CHRISTMAS TREE FARM. A teenaged boy strung large-bulb Christmas lights from the posts that surrounded the trees. Even though the bulbs were three times the size of the ones on the string that had killed Rocky, they still brought back the memory of how her body had looked when I’d seen her this morning and how guilty Eric had appeared standing over her body.
To the left of the gazebo, straw had been strewn over the snowy ground for the live nativity scene. I saw a horse, a cow, and a goose there so far. I hoped that Margot had thought to have someone watch over those animals. No one wanted a goose loose at the market, or a cow for that matter.
“There’s our table.” Charlotte pointed to a table that was in the middle of the market. Most of the other vendors were already set up for the sale.
I helped her push the cart over the frozen grass. “I don’t think the cart was made for this kind of terrain,” I said.
Finally, we got it into place and began to unload.
I knelt in the snow to attach a plain navy tablecloth to the underside of the table so that it wouldn’t blow away in the December breeze.
“That sure is a lot of peppermint you have there,” a woman’s voice said above me.
I banged my head in my rush to get out from under the table. I knew that voice. “Cass?!” I jumped to my feet and threw my arms around her. “What are you doing here?” I asked. “You can’t be here!”
“Sure, I can,” she said, seemingly unconcerned about my outburst. “It’s a free country—I can go wherever I please.”
She wore her signature head-to-toe black, from her wool coat to her high-heeled boots. Her black hair was silky straight and fell to her ears, except for her extralong bright purple bangs that fell over her right eye. She didn’t wear a hat despite the below-freezing temperature. Cass didn’t do hats. She certainly wasn’t sporting the traditional Holmes County look.
I gave Cass another hug before letting her go. “I still don’t know how you got here or why you are here. I’m thrilled to see you, but what on earth is going on? Why have you come?”
“When I got your text this morning, I told Jean Pierre the situation, and he offered me his plane.”
“But, but, you are the head chocolatier now at JP Chocolates,” I protested. “This is the busiest time of the year. They need you in New York.”
She smiled. “I’m not denying that they need me. I am hard to replace, but Jean Pierre is the worst retiree ever. He’s been itching to get back into the shop and fill all the Christmas orders. I swear he’s been at the chocolate shop every day since he retired. I think he was happy to be rid of me, really. Plus Caden, for whatever he’s worth, is there and can do the heavy work for Jean Pierre.”
Tears gathered in my eyes.
“OMG, Bailey, are you crying? Why are you crying?”
“I . . . I’m not crying.” I sniffled. “I just . . . you don’t even know . . .”
“I don’t even know what?” She looked around the square. “Is Eric here? Did he hurt you? I’ll kill him.”
Charlotte gasped.
I wiped tears from my eyes. “She doesn’t really mean that.”
“Says who?” Cass asked. “Where is the little rat?”
“Eric’s not why I’m upset,” I said. “Well, not entirely.”
“What is it, then? What could be worse than that rat coming back into your life? I knew he was never good enough for you, but I won’t say anything more about it because that’s all in the past.”
I highly doubted that Cass wouldn’t say anything more about it. That wasn’t her style.
“I found a dead body this morning.” I just came out and said it. With Cass, that was one of the best ways to share information. You had to be quick before she moved on to the next thing.
“Another dead body?” Cass yelled loud enough for every shopkeeper on the square to hear.
The goose honked a reply. Perhaps she thought Cass was yelling at her.
I winced. “Yes, and it’s the executive producer for Eric’s show.”
“Are you kidding me?” She peered into the cart. “Do you have anything stronger than fudge in that cart?” Cass asked. “Because that’s not going to cut it this time.”
Charlotte shook her head.
“Who’s the quiet one?” Cass asked, smiling at Charlotte, who still had her mouth hanging open. She held a bag of peppermint puffs in her hand as if she’d been frozen in time by my best friend’s appearance.
“This is my cousin Charlotte.”
Cass smiled. “You’re the organist, right?”
Charlotte only nodded, as she seemed to have been struck dumb by Cass’s appearance.
Cass just shrugged when Charlotte didn’t speak. “I hope she plays better than she talks.” Cass turned back to me. “Does Hot Cop have any suspects for the murder?”
“Cass, please lower your voice. I don’t want anyone to hear you referring to Aiden as Hot Cop.”
“I don’t know why that’s a problem. I’m just stating the obvious about him.”
“The police think t
hat Eric killed Rocky,” I said. “So I have—”
She shook her finger at me. “No, no, no, no, no.”
“No what? And for goodness’ sake, get your finger out of my face.”
“I’ll get my finger out of your face when you tell me that you are not helping Eric out of a murder rap.”
“I can’t tell you that,” I said.
“You cannot help him. You have no reason to help him. Let the county sheriff run him up river. It would do him good to learn a lesson for once. It would do him good not to think he rules the world.”
“I can’t do that if he’s innocent. And I know he wouldn’t do this.”
“How do you know?” Cass asked. “You can’t possibly trust him after what he did to you.”
“I don’t trust him, but I know that he didn’t kill Rocky Rivers.”
“Rocky Rivers? Is that a joke I don’t get?”
“That’s the producer’s name.”
“That is so not the name she was born with.”
I didn’t disagree with her, because I had thought the same. “But I know that Eric didn’t kill her, because it could ruin his television show. He worked too hard and too long for that. He’s too selfish to have killed Rocky.”
She nodded. “Okay, you have point there, but that still doesn’t mean you have to help him in any way. Hot Cop—” She held up her hand. “Okay, Aiden is a good cop, right? He won’t arrest Eric unless he has airtight evidence. The last thing he would want to do would be to accuse the wrong person, even if the wrong person is Eric.” She touched her cheek with her black leather glove. “Then again, maybe I’m wrong on that. He can’t like the guy after the way Eric treated you. Scratch that. Aiden definitely would like to lock him up and throw away the key.”
“Not helping,” I said.
“Well, if this”—she moved her hand back and forth between us—“isn’t helping, what do I have to do to help? Because dead body or not, that’s what I’m here to do.”
“Thank you.” I hugged her again and sniffled.
“Don’t you dare start crying again!” Cass ordered.
And I swallowed my grateful tears.
Chapter 14
After Cass’s arrival, she and I helped Charlotte set up the rest of the table, so that we would be ready on time for the Christmas Market. The market would run from noon to four, which would give the vendors plenty of time to close up shop before the sun was fully set. The live nativity would take over at that point.
As we walked back to Swissmen Sweets, I filled Cass in with as many of the particulars of the murder as I could. Just as we reached the door, I finished the recap.
“Eric wants you to prove that his current girlfriend, Jane, killed Rocky to get him off the hook,” Cass concluded.
“Josie. Not Jane,” I said.
“Whatever. It’s a terrible thing for him to ask you to do.”
I put my hand on the doorknob of Swissmen Sweets and turned it. “I’m going to find out who murdered Rocky, no matter who it is, even if it turns out to be Eric. Rocky deserves that.” I pulled open the door before Cass could reply.
“Cass!” my grandmother exclaimed as we stepped into the crowded shop. Christmas shoppers, mostly English but a few Amish, filled the room. Maami hurried around the counter. “It is so good to see you!” My Amish grandmother gave my purple-haired best friend a tight hug.
Cass hugged her back with just as much feeling.
The customers in the shop stared at them openmouthed. They must have looked like an odd pair.
“What brings you to our little corner of the world?” Maami asked.
I gave Cass a look. My grandmother still didn’t know about my history with Eric in New York, and I wanted to keep it that way.
“I just wanted to surprise you all before Christmas.”
Maami clapped her hands. “Well, this is a lovely surprise. We’re so glad you are here. Many of Bailey’s friends have come to Harvest for this special season. I am very glad that she has people who care about her so much that they would travel so far to see her.” Maami reached out to me and squeezed my hand. “I know it was a hardship for her to leave her life in New York behind for me and Swissmen Sweets, but I am forever grateful to my beloved granddaughter that she did.”
“It wasn’t a hardship for me to leave New York, Maami. I have told you that. I miss Cass, of course, but this is where I belong now. It’s where Daadi would want me to be.”
My grandmother’s eyes filled with tears when I mentioned my grandfather. “I am sorry.” She removed a handkerchief from the pocket of her apron. “This is the first Christmas since . . . It is a hard season for me.”
I hugged her. “It is a hard season for all of us.”
“We will make the most of it,” Cass said.
“Gut! I’m so glad. Now, I must get back to the counter and help everyone find their Christmas treats. The peppermint candies are a huge success. We are almost sold out of what we have here at the shop. I have been directing customers across the street to our Christmas Market table.”
I gave her a half smile. I was so over peppermint.
My grandmother went back behind the counter, and Cass turned to me. “What’s the plan? How are you going to help Eric? Because even though I think it’s a stupid idea, I’m going to help you as long as I’m here. That’s what a best friend does.”
I gave her a big hug just as my grandmother had. “You are the best.”
“Please don’t ever forget that.” She smiled, taking the edge out of her words.
The door to the shop opened. “Bailey, thank goodness you are here!” Juliet flew into the shop and thrust Jethro into my arms. “Can you take Jethro now? I know it’s earlier than we discussed, but I have been called into an emergency live nativity meeting.”
“An emergency live nativity meeting?” Cass asked. “Did Joseph go AWOL?”
“Oh!” Juliet said when she saw Cass standing in the shop. “You are . . . ?”
“Cass,” Cass said.
“Yes, of course,” Juliet said. “It’s so nice to see you again.” She turned her attention back to me. “Can you take him now?”
“I don’t see why not,” I said, well aware that all the customers in the candy shop were watching our exchange.
She pressed Jethro and me into a three-way hug. Jethro snorted. When she let go of me, I found Jethro in my arms, and I didn’t even know how she’d managed to put him there.
“Thank you, Bailey. Thank you so much. You are the best daughter-in-law any mother would ever ask for.”
“Wait,” Cass yelped. “Hold the phone! Daughter-in-law?”
I merely shook my head and mouthed, “Tell you later.”
“You got married and you’re going to tell me later?” Cass hissed.
“I’m not married,” I said.
Juliet smiled at me. “I know those TV people will take one look at my little pig and want to sign him on the spot. Isn’t that what it’s called in showbiz? Signing? I need to learn all the terminology if I’m going to be Jethro’s manager.” Her eyes glistened with happy tears. “Or maybe you can be his manager, Bailey?”
The pig looked up at me, and I would be lying if I didn’t say that it looked like he shrugged at me. As if to say, “What’s to be done with her?”
I didn’t know how to answer that question. I suspected that it was one Aiden asked himself on a regular basis.
She fondled Jethro’s ear as if she was reluctant to leave him. “You knock them dead, kiddo. You can do this. Bring home the bacon.”
I winced. Under the circumstances, I thought it was a poor choice of words, but that was just me.
“Now, I really must scoot,” Juliet said. She ducked her head and gave Jethro a kiss on the top of his snout. “You be good for your sister, all right, sweetheart?” With that she went out the door.
Cass put her hands on her hips. “Clearly, there is some stuff you need to tell me.”
I sighed and set the pig on the floo
r. He pressed his nose to the hardwood, inhaling all the scents. “I’m not married. Jethro is not related to me at all. That’s all wishful thinking on Juliet’s part.”
“Well, that’s a relief, because I had better be told well in advance if you plan to tie the knot.”
“I’m not tying anything up with anyone any time soon.”
Cass still had her hands on her narrow hips, and she looked down at Jethro. “Juliet wants you to talk to the production team about him, to make him a star. Is that right?”
“Yes,” I admitted.
“Perfect!” she said.
“Why is that perfect?” I couldn’t see anything good coming out of my toting Jethro around as if I were a farmyard animal talent agent.
She pointed at Jethro. “The pig is our ticket.”
“Our ticket where?”
“I’ll tell you on the way.” She opened the door to Swissmen Sweets. “Let’s go.”
“Where are we going?”
She looked back at me. “To solve a murder, of course.”
Chapter 15
It wasn’t until I was behind the wheel of my car, which had been parked on Apple Street away from the commotion of the Christmas Market, that Cass told me what we were doing.
“We need an excuse to talk to the production team, right?” she said.
I nodded. “We could use one, sure.”
She pointed at Jethro, who was in her lap in the passenger seat. “Excuse.”
Jethro grunted.
“Don’t be sensitive,” she told the pig. “It’s for a good cause.”
“It’s an idea,” I said, starting the car.
“It’s a brilliant idea,” Cass exclaimed. “Do you know where they are staying?”
I nodded. “Eric told me it’s a guest house out on Tree Road. I was surprised that they picked a place so remote.”
“The plot thickens,” she said, twirling an imaginary mustache. “Onward!”
Twenty minutes later, my car bounced out of another snow-covered pothole as I finally made the turn onto Tree Road on the outskirts of Harvest.
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