Mystery: The Christmas Contest: A Duncan Dewar Romantic Comedy of Mystery & Suspense (Duncan Dewar Mysteries Book 5)

by Victoria Benchley

  The model batted her eyelashes, crossed her legs, and adjusted her hemline with fingers sporting bright red lacquered nails, none of which was lost on the show's host or the viewing audience.

  "Now, I've got to bring this up, because it was all over the newspapers this morning. Are you and your old beau, Duncan Dewar, an item?" the man asked, holding up the front page of the Daily Deliverer.

  "We're great friends, Nick. We've kept in contact over the years, and I came as soon as I could when I heard of his injuries. We're very supportive of each other," Cassandra claimed, posing with a demure smile for the camera.

  "She's a good liar," Angus remarked as Duncan fumed.

  "Well, Cassandra, you appear a tad more than friends in this photo," Cassandra's interviewer stated, snickering. The model shrugged as he continued, "How's he holding up? Everyone is excited about his discovery on Lindisfarne."

  "He's brilliant. He'll be good as rain in no time," she responded.

  "Back in a moment with Cassandra to discuss her next project," the host announced before fading to advertisements.

  "I'm speechless," Margaret stated, decamping to the kitchen.

  "I think ye may be her next project, Duncan!" Angus said, throwing his head back and laughing.

  "Don't let it bother you. This will blow over like everything else. Angela is handling it well. Continue to reassure the lass, and all will be fine," James said, before leaving for work.

  Duncan's father, a popular professor, taught physics at university.

  "Come on, Harold. Let's get to the garage. We've got work to do if we're going to take a holiday at Christmas," Angus said.

  For once, Angus did not continue ribbing Duncan about his predicament. He patted his older brother's shoulder as he and Harold made their way out of the house.

  Duncan reached for an envelope on the side table. Yesterday, before Reggie left, the ornithologist had handed him a small packet, stating it was remuneration for his investigation on Lindisfarne. He thanked the man, but hadn't bothered examining his fee. Now, he used his finger to loosen the glue and undo the flap sealing the paperwork. He pulled several sheets onto his lap, inspecting the legal documents, including a wire transfer receipt.

  "Oh, my," the investigator said.

  "What is it?" his mum asked.

  "It appears Reggie has already licensed the rights to reproduce the items recovered from his estate. He's given me a percentage of the earnings, including a hefty bonus from the deal. He's been most generous," Duncan added.

  "What a lovely man," Margaret proclaimed.

  "I want to celebrate. Can you get me over to the Scotsman, Mum? I want to see Angela."

  Margaret dropped her son off in front of the hotel. The family was down one car since the old Vauxhall had been destroyed in Lindisfarne's causeway. Duncan took the lift to her floor, found her lodgings and knocked on the door, carrying a bouquet from the hotel florist.

  "Hallo, Darling. These are an apology for this morning's on-air lies," Duncan said, handing the arrangement of baby peach roses and purple heather to Angela.

  "I didn't watch, but thank you, Duncan," Angela lied. "Come in," she added.

  Duncan entered her room and moved towards the window. She had a terrific view of the Scott Monument at Princess Street Gardens. Angela retrieved a vase from the petite marble fireplace and strolled to the en suite, located in one of the hotel's turrets, where she filled the vessel with water, adding the flowers. She gave the bouquet pride of place on the room's small oak table. Then she joined him.

  "Did you know the Scott monument is the largest tribute to an author in the world?" he asked.

  The memorial honored Sir Walter Scott, author of Ivanhoe and other works dear to the people of Scotland.

  "No, I didn't," she replied.

  Duncan slid behind Angela and placed both arms around the lass.

  "See those statues," he raised her hand and, joined with his own, pointed to the famous spire. Duncan continued, "There are over sixty individuals carved there, including kings, evangelists, and even a pirate. They attempted to clean the structure in the 1990s, but determined it would damage the monument. The lighter patches are restorations. They re-opened the original quarry where the monument's stone came from, just to supply rock for the refurbishment. The rest is original, black from smoke," he explained before turning Angela in his arms.

  "What about the sunken gardens?" she asked, now facing the investigator.

  He brushed a strand of hair from her face, then lifted her chin. He dipped his head to reach Angela's lips. The constant dull pain in his leg disappeared and he forgot the ache in his ankle, as his mouth captured hers. He drew the lass close, pulling her against his chest, enjoying the feel of her in his arms.

  "We can take a walk there later," he whispered, after releasing her from a long, passionate kiss. "Have you had breakfast?"

  Angela tried to recover. Her head spun and she tingled all over.

  "No," she said, catching her breath.

  "Then let's order room service," Duncan suggested.

  "I think we better dine in the restaurant, Duncan."

  He pulled the lass to him again, enjoying another deep kiss while running his fingers through her long, auburn hair. Her lips were softer and sweeter than he'd remembered.

  "Afraid to be alone with me?" he asked.

  "Yes," she said and nodded, reaching for her purse. "Let's go. I'm hungry," she added.

  Duncan watched his girlfriend as he held the door for her. Dressed in brown boots and an orange and gold coordinating ensemble, she looked adorable. Her violet eyes stood out against the fall colors of her attire. He took a quick glance around the room before following her out.

  "Your outfit matches your lodgings," he commented.

  "It does?"

  "Yes, your boots are the same color as the oak paneling and your skirt and sweater match the burnt orange upholstery," he observed, taking her hand at the lift.

  "You are an observant investigator, aren't you," Angela laughed as they entered the elevator.

  In the restaurant, she selected a pastry and tea while Duncan chose a full on hearty breakfast, representative of his homeland. The hotel's paneled dining room was snug and cozy with caramel colored wood-clad walls. A waiter seated the couple in a booth, which afforded Duncan enough privacy to enjoy another kiss with Angela. They discussed her current case in the life insurance investigation department of Lawful and General. She delivered many well wishes from the investigator's former co-workers and employees, while they huddled close.

  "Do you want to look for office furniture today?"

  "There's no rush," he replied, admiring the curve of Angela's chin and her thick, glossy hair.

  He couldn't resist gently rubbing his thumb over her lower lip. She took his hand in her own, giving it a squeeze.

  "Well, actually there is. I'm returning to London tomorrow."

  "What? You just got here," he complained, drawing back to get a good look at his former assistant, the mood broken.

  "If I'm going to return for a holiday at Christmas, I've got to get back to the office. I have to finish my work on the case before coming to Scotland again."

  He lifted an eyebrow at the lass. He wasn’t sure she was not making excuses to leave, the Cassandra Baines episode driving her away.

  "Angela, is that the truth or are you having second thoughts about me… about us, after yesterday's debacle?"

  Duncan understood the lass sometimes experienced insecurities. She'd made her way in the world alone, both parents deceased before she reached adulthood. He longed to reassure the lass and drive any doubts about their relationship from her mind.

  "I'm trying not to give that tart a second thought, Duncan. I really have to get back to work. Every time I've run up here, I neglected my job. Luckily, everyone has been supportive, so far. I cannot continue taking advantage."

  He inhaled a sharp breath, taking his time releasing the air from his lungs. Angela waited, delving
into his dark eyes for a reaction to her statement. He wanted to lay the law down and tell his girlfriend she must move to Edinburgh. Duncan had a job waiting for her as his assistant.

  Undone by the lass's penetrating stare and the violet flecks in her large, blue doe eyes, Duncan said, "I don't want you to go."

  The deep richness of his voice along with his vulnerable expression had its effect on her.

  She flung her arms around the investigator's neck and whispered, "I don't want to, either."

  He held her there, in the booth, for some time. He could feel small sobs escape her body as she clung to him.

  "Shhh, wheesht, wheesht, Little One," Duncan said, caressing Angela's back as he held her tight.

  When he finally released the lass, he saw a smile on her tear stained face. Angela's reaction had surprised him again.

  -3-

  Another Reunion

  Duncan waited, impatient, on the platform at Waverly Station. He hadn't seen Angela in over three weeks and they planned to drive straight to Taye once her train arrived. His leg felt better overall, although the pain returned if he overused the limb.

  The rest of the family had already decamped for the Blue Bell Inn. His sister, Sophie, decided to stay in London, enjoying the holidays in the city with her in-laws. Angus and Harold drove to Taye earlier that day, while his parents, accompanied by Chef Mondo, were on their way now.

  Armondo Berluca, the chef from the Tormes Art Academy in Manchiego, Spain, figured prominently in one of Duncan's prior cases. The Scotsman had allowed his mum to go undercover as a sous chef and she'd developed a friendship with Mondo. Now, they were considering going into business together. The man loved yanking his chain, and the investigator was none too fond of the idea of spending Christmas with the culinary hot head.

  Duncan checked his watch, annoyed that Angela's train was late. He looked around for a bench and took a seat. He still had a two hour drive to make before they'd arrive at the inn. His leg ached and his ankle throbbed.

  Over the past two weeks, Donald inundated the investigator with information about the upcoming holiday activities. Along with services in the kirk, the neighboring village of Tyne held a holiday market on its green. The Blue Bell sponsored a Christmas contest, featuring a baked goods challenge. Other events included a decorating competition and an art show. Winners would be announced throughout the holiday. The Hogmanay celebration would be the grand finale or coupe des grâce, as the innkeeper referred to it.

  Duncan glimpsed Angela in a crowd disembarking a just arrived train. He rose and limped to meet her. The lass glanced around the station looking for him. When she spotted the investigator, her face lit as if in a spotlight.

  He took in the details of his girlfriend's appearance. Her auburn hair bounced against her shoulders as she hastened to him, while sparks flew from her violet eyes. She wore pale blue jeans tucked into black high heeled leather boots and a deep plum sweater, topped by a coordinating houndstooth scarf.

  Delighted to be reunited at last, Duncan pulled her against his chest, placing a hand at the back of her neck. Her purple and pink neckerchief was soft to the touch. Drawing her into a welcome kiss, he heard her giggle.

  "Have you waited long?" she asked.

  "Yes, I've been counting the minutes since you left, Angela. How was the trip?"

  "Fine."

  "Do you need anything before we head for Taye?"

  "Just my luggage," she replied, her eyes trained on the handsome Scotsman.

  * * * * * *

  On the way to the village, he described the upcoming holiday festivities as best he could. Angela responded positively to each event. The lass was a good sport. Pulling into the inn's car park, he recognized his family's vehicles. The Blue Bell's lone bellhop ran to greet them and carried their bags from the boot.

  "What do you think of my new car?" Duncan asked.

  "Is it yours?" she asked, staring at the red Jaguar coupe. "I thought it was hired."

  "Had to replace the Vauxhall. Decided I'd follow after Reggie."

  "Isn't it a bit extravagant?"

  "You don't care for it?"

  "No, it's brilliant, Duncan. Congratulations."

  He tucked the lass under his arm and the two strolled into the Blue Bell. The scent of roasting meat mixed with embers, greeted them at the door.

  "There's the rest of our party," Margaret stated from a table near the entrance.

  Before Duncan could reach his mum, Armondo Berluca enveloped him in a bear hug, squeezing air from the investigator's lungs. He let out a small gasp, worried his rib might crack again.

  "Mondo is so happy to see you, Duncan. We will have beautiful holiday here, together, in Scottish countryside, no?"

  The chef released the Scotsman with a hearty slap on the back and returned to Margaret's table, followed by James Dewar, carrying two pints. He spotted Angus at the bar, chatting with Skye, while Harold sat by the fire with Donald. Tables set with linens and flickering candles had been placed together, forming one long dining area for the inn's guests. Upon seeing Duncan, the innkeeper encouraged everyone to take their seats while Skye signaled a waiter to begin.

  After a sumptuous feast of roast pheasant, vegetables, and pudding, Donald rose to address the group. Silence fell as the innkeeper tapped his glass with a knife.

  "Skye and I wish to welcome ye all to the Blue Bell. Yer luggage has been deposited in yer rooms and tomorrow's festivities begin right after breakfast. Ye'll find a schedule of events on yer nightstands. We hope ye'll participate in everything, but a word of warning regarding the treasure hunt. We recommend ye form teams with at least one young person amongst every group. Some of the clues require a physicality we older folk might nae possess anymore. Good night, and yer keys are at the desk."

  Skye leaned across the table and said to Duncan, "Dad and I are going home now. We've got staff to take care of yer family, new employees with all the increased business, dae ye ken? We'll be back for breakfast at eight."

  The innkeeper's daughter smiled and rose from the table. Duncan watched as she escorted her father from the inn. He hoped this shindig was not too much for the older man.

  As expected, the innkeeper gave Duncan room nine. His parents had room eight, while Angus and Harold shared the lodgings across the hall from him. Mondo stayed in his own room at the top of the stairs.

  The investigator showed Angela to her room, opposite the chef's. Using an old key, he turned the latch and pushed open the diminutive oak door. Inside, the cozy room contained a fireplace, two twin beds with matching canopies, a nightstand, wooden chair, and an adjacent en suite. Pink toile wallpaper coordinated with the bed linens and velvet bolster pillows.

  "How beautiful," Angela commented.

  "Take a look at this," he said, pointing to the schedule of events from the nightstand.

  He handed Angela the card, printed in a festive old world font. It read,

  20-24 December Christmas Market at Tyne Green

  23 December Best Baked Goods

  24 December Judging: Decorations

  25 December Service - 9 am, Old Kirk of Taye

  25 December Christmas Lunch -3 pm, Blue Bell Inn

  26-30 December Contest Treasure Hunt

  27 December Best Baker Crowning

  28 December Arts Show & Judging

  31 December Hogmanay Celebrations

  Angela glanced over the activity schedule, feeling overwhelmed. Duncan observed the worried expression passing over the lass's face.

  "We can participate in everything or nothing. It's up to you, Darling," he said, adding, "why don't you sleep on it? We can figure it out as we go along."

  "That sounds good, Duncan. I think right now, I just need some rest and so do you. It's been a long day for both of us."

  "Aye," the detective commented with an adopted burr, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face. "If you need me, just press # and 9, and you'll be connected to my room."

  He kissed her good ni
ght and removed himself to the other end of the hall, passing his brothers' and parents' rooms. His thoughts were on the surprise he planned for Angela.

  -4-

  Gingerbread Husbands

  "What's this prize for the cooking contest?" Chef Mondo demanded to know. "Armondo Berluca does not work for free of charge, no?" he added, standing too close to the innkeeper.

  "Sí," Duncan intervened, slapping Mondo on the back and laughing.

  Refreshed, he had slept well and his injuries felt better. The investigator attempted to lighten the mood. Donald eyed the large chef with suspicion. Margaret had already compiled a shopping list for her famous cracker bars, the special recipe passed down from her grandmother. James Dewar planned to enter his mother's date bars in the contest. The participants from their party, the only guests of the inn, would have to coordinate their time in the Blue Bell's kitchen.

  "I'm trying to think if I have a holiday treat worthy of the contest," Angela said, almost to herself.

  "A gingerbread husband. That's what you should attempt!" Margaret pronounced, sending her son a sidelong glance.

  Angela blushed bright red while he scowled at his mum. James pretended not to hear his wife's remark while Angus sauntered into the pub, holding the schedule of festivities.

  "I'm going to make that old family chestnut, shortbread. What will ye give me if I win, Skye?" Angus asked in a sly tone with one eyebrow lifted, turning to the innkeeper's daughter.

  Now there were two blushing lasses in the Blue Bell. Skye chose to ignore Duncan's brother's remark, struggling to regain her composure. Angus Dewar, with his tall height, large muscular frame, and devilishly handsome dark good looks, was a rarity in these parts. She found herself attracted to the man in ways she had never been to Duncan.

  "The prize is a title and crown," Donald stated, agitated. He added, "Ye'll all need to work out kitchen time with my chef, Andy."

  "Mondo does not cook for crowns!" the chef exclaimed, disgusted, stepping from the pub.