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

by Victoria Benchley

  "You need to memorize the MacNab motto, Angela."

  "What's that?"

  "Let fear be far from all," Duncan stated, his eyes becoming a still darker shade of forest, as he drew Angela into another kiss.

  The lass pulled away.

  "Let's discuss the other night," she suggested.

  "All right," he agreed after placing a chaste kiss on her forehead.

  "You started off scowling at me. It made me think you were ashamed of my dress or behavior. Then, you treated me as though I was still your employee, ordering me about. I'm no longer your assistant, Duncan. If you think or want our personal relationship to be like that, this will never work. I'm not here to serve you and follow your orders anymore," Angela's emotions spilled with her words. She sounded angry.

  All he could think of was how much he wanted the lass.

  "I was rather hoping you would serve me and follow my orders. I don't see a thing wrong with that," he said, grinning.

  Angela was having none of it.

  "Is that how your parents' relationship works?" she demanded.

  No matter how attractive she found the hunky Scotsman, she knew their romance wouldn't last for the long haul unless they saw eye-to-eye on certain matters.

  He rubbed his chin between his thumb and forefinger, feigning deep thought.

  "Yes!" he exclaimed.

  A laugh escaped from Angela's mouth.

  "It is not how their relationship functions and you know it!"

  "All right, all right, Little One. Why so fiery? I'm getting used to this whole thing, just as you are. You must give me the benefit of the doubt. By the way, I thought you looked brilliant the other night. It was Wally I was scowling at. How could you flirt with him like that? Oh, and I just wanted to see you clear of that place. I didn't like what was going on. Something felt strange and I wanted to protect you."

  "Something did feel strange and I wasn't flirting with that cad. I was garnering information," Angela said, her lips twisting into a smile.

  -7-

  Yet Another Contest

  Delighted with her gingerbread house, Taye's holiday committee asked Angela to help judge the Christmas decoration contest. Christmas Eve was a busy time for most, so only three people had made themselves available as judges. She joined Jimmy Smythe, representing local law enforcement, the village vicar and Harry Alyn, from Alyn and Sons, outside the Blue Bell. The community center's van shuttled them off for a day of viewing interior and exterior holiday decor.

  At breakfast, Duncan discussed the upcoming Top Scotsman Gala with Angela. He would try to wrangle tickets for their entire party, including Mondo. They decided their group would participate in the treasure hunt that morning, then head to Edinburgh after lunch. They'd spend the night in town after the awards celebration before returning to Taye for the rest of their holiday.

  Duncan waved good-bye to his girlfriend in the Blue Bell's car park, then watched as the van disappeared from view. He hopped in his car and began the trip to Edinburgh. He had business there and wanted to return to the inn before Angela finished her duties as decorations judge. He'd already performed his due diligence on the internet, and felt reasonably certain he could accomplish his goal by one p.m.

  * * * * * *

  Back at the Blue Bell, Duncan checked his computer for emails from his private detective. He'd paid extra to have the man work during the holidays, per the electronic invoice attached to his message. It was worth it.

  Very interesting. Duncan perused Wally Wallace's financial profile. The would-be bon vivant lived beyond his means, and lived well. Banking records reflected modest cash deposits which added up to extravagant amounts, over time. He still wanted to punch the upstart in the jaw for leering at Angela, among other things, but this information might prove more satisfying.

  Donald had arranged for the police to carry out a discreet search of the premises to try to locate the missing jewel, but nothing turned up. Susanne allowed law enforcement to turn her house upside down, provided they filed no official report. Business was slow during the holidays, so the chief inspector arranged a training exercise for new recruits, involving a hunt for a theoretical missing valuable. No one was the wiser, and Donald Merriwether was now in the debt of Chief Inspector John Wallace, no relation to Susanne.

  Angela knocked at room nine around six p.m. Duncan opened the door to find a windblown, shivering lass on his threshold.

  "Who won?" he asked.

  "A pub in Tyne for light display, Susanne Wallace for indoor decorations, and the Charmicle cottage for overall effect," Angela said, dropping into the wing chair in front of his roaring fire. "It is frigid out there, Duncan. Susanne had the most incredible Christmas tree in her front hall. She must have brought it in since we were there. I'd bet it was over four meters high."

  "Walter wasn't around was he?"

  The investigator knew a search had been conducted at the manor that very day. He hoped the decoration judging took place afterwards.

  "No, no one was there except a few staff. It was our last stop," Angela explained. She continued, "Say, I'm famished. When are we dining?"

  Duncan checked his watch.

  "Ach! Ye've got an hour to tidy yersel, Lass! Me thinks it may not be enough," he said in his best local burr, tousling Angela's already messy hair.

  Angela laughed and swatted Duncan's hand away, then marched to the door.

  "See you down there," she called over her shoulder, leaving.

  * * * * * *

  Donald called the group of men together in the lobby. He'd chosen the four oldest males of their company to bring in the Yule log and now explained their duties. Everyone else waited in the pub, except for Mondo, who volunteered to give the Blue Bell's chef the night off, preparing dinner himself.

  Armondo had made his presence felt in Andrew Gordon's kitchen. Andy complained to Donald several times regarding the Spaniard taking liberties at the Blue Bell and with its staff. The innkeeper preached peace to his chef, encouraging the employee to be patient and generous with their guest. Donald knew he walked a fine line between alienating his own people and insulting Armondo, the future partner of his young friend's mum. The cook from Spain had already had several rows with his counterpart, and Donald believed a peaceful Christmas Eve would be best served by separating those two, even though Andrew balked at the idea.

  Outside the inn, a dark sky spat snowflakes, creating an ideal atmosphere. A large log, decorated with boughs from a Scots pine, sat on a bench next to the entrance. The men arranged themselves by age, the eldest, Donald, at the front, followed by James Dewar, Duncan and Angus. They staggered their positions on each side of the wood and lifted the log. Harold, watching from inside, opened the door for the men. The procession passed through the pub before entering the kitchen where they circled the room four times. Margaret filmed the parade with her cellular phone. Mondo stood to the side and for once was speechless. The chef assumed this ritual had some religious significance and bowed his head, showing proper respect. Angus chuckled, familiar with the Scottish Yule tradition, but his response was lost on Armondo, who assumed the Dewar irreverent.

  Back in the pub, the innkeeper separated himself from the Yule log as the others placed it in the fireplace, on top of smoldering embers. James added some kindling, prompted by Donald, who raised a glass, prepared to give a toast. Someone fetched Mondo from the kitchen.

  "This fire must keep burning all night to prevent the elves from entering and creating mischief. If the fire goes out, it's bad luck for the Blue Bell for the next year!" Donald warned. He continued, "Now, fir our toast." The innkeeper cleared his throat and glanced at each guest as he said, "Joy, joy. May God shower joy on all of us. Christmas brings us all good things. God give us grace to see the new year, and if we dinnae increase, may we ne'er decrease!"

  Donald's voice crescendoed at the end of the traditional toast, as Here, heres reverberated throughout the room.

  Skye and a staff member helped Mon
do serve a dinner of poached salmon in a spicy currant sauce, and roasted winter vegetables. Robert Abernathy provided bread and mince pies from his bakery, and the innkeeper's daughter made a large vat of her mother's Wassail from ale, roasted apples, eggs, whiskey and spices. Mondo received the best gift he could ask for -- compliments on his cooking.

  The party broke up around ten, but not before everyone stepped outside to see the snowfall, no longer just spits, but heavy swirling collections of flakes that promised some accumulation by morning, at least at the higher elevations.

  Sometime during the evening, Donald managed to hang mistletoe above the staircase, ensuring all his guests received a good-night kiss, even if only from one's own mother. Angela volunteered to give Mondo his peck, saving Duncan from an awkward situation should the chef attempt to smooch his mum.

  He would spend the rest of Christmas Eve entering data into his fault tree analysis program. Recovering the missing pendant became personal when Wally revealed he'd researched Duncan and his friends, prior to the valuable going missing. The rascal played a game which Duncan intended to win. It was just another holiday contest.

  -8-

  Christmas

  Christmas morning, Margaret made a simple breakfast of oatmeal for the family, a modern version of the traditional new sowens, oats boiled until thick, like treacle. Taye awoke to a light dusting of snow, just enough to create an idyllic environment, but not enough to affect driving conditions. On the way to the kirk, Duncan explained the Scottish Christmas to Angela.

  "We didn't celebrate Christmas for four centuries. Cromwell banned it in England, but that only lasted a few years. The Scottish church, on the other hand, thought the occasion too popish, and frowned upon any celebrations. Hogmanay became our big holiday. Of course, the church frowned on many of the activities the people enjoyed around new year's as well. I think the festival committee has some interesting things planned for Hogmanay, if the rumors I hear are true. They plan to reinstate some of the old traditions this year," the investigator stated as he pulled his car to the side of the lane across from the kirk. Vehicles already filled the small car park.

  Inside, Duncan was pleased to see that Donald and Skye had taken seats next to Abigail Neward and her nephew, Jimmy Smythe. The investigator spotted many people he hadn't seen since last fall. The kirk felt comfortable, like an old suit or broken-in pair of shoes. Perhaps the whole village felt that way to him now. The Dewars filled a pew in front of the Merriwethers.

  Duncan turned and whispered to Donald, "You've nothing to fear. I checked the fire this morning and its embers still glowed a bright red. No bad luck for you or the Blue Bell for an entire year."

  The innkeeper stifled a laugh and pointed to the front of the kirk.

  The vicar signaled for the singing to begin and the congregation started with The Cherry Tree Carol, as stated on the program a young lad had given them at the door. Here is New Joy and Jesus Christ the Apple Tree followed. Duncan spied Susanne and Wally Wallace searching for seats. Donald took note as well. The carols continued with Mondo opening up his deep bass voice. The man had more than just culinary skills. The aged vicar allowed a lay member to read the Scriptures from Luke regarding the birth of Jesus. Donald whispered and gestured to Duncan that the rector had lost his voice. The flock sang more carols before dismissed.

  Back at the inn, Margaret busied herself, passing Christmas stockings from room to room so gifts could be inserted. James helped his wife carry the stockings to the lobby, where they planned to open their presents.

  Duncan's mum insisted she and Mondo explore their stockings first, as their help might be needed at the stove later. Armondo stretched the knitted sock taut, shoving his large arm inside to its elbow. He retrieved a clear flexible box, with a bright green gadget inside. Small holes in the device allowed herb leaves to be stripped from their stems.

  "Genius!" the chef enthused.

  Armondo next withdrew a small bottle of pink Himalayan sea salt with a built-in grinder.

  "Excellent!" Mondo proclaimed, pulling a new tie from the toe of his stocking. It matched the tan suit he'd brought to Scotland.

  "Gracias. Mondo is touched, deeply," the chef said, drying a tear from the corner of one eye with his Christmas stocking.

  Margaret dumped her gifts into her lap, eager to get to the kitchen. James gave her a delicate charm bracelet, a tiny gold skillet bobbling from its chain. She held up a bottle of her favorite perfume and a small box of peppermints. She hugged each of her children and Angela, placing a kiss on her husband's cheek before leaving the group.

  "Go next, Dad," Angus suggested.

  James Dewar agreed and pulled a gift certificate from his stocking. His eyes grew wide as he examined the paper. His family had pulled resources to purchase two rounds of golf at Saint Andrews and a lesson with a course pro.

  "Thank you so much," James said, pleased with his gift.

  Harold grabbed his stocking and squeezed, trying to guess its contents. He shook his head and retrieved the first item, a bag of colorful licorice bits.

  "Yes!" he shouted.

  Duncan and Angus glanced at each other. Who would have thought a small amount of candy could bring such joy to a twenty-something. Harold continued digging and found a fine, old-fashioned razor with replacement blades. He seemed happy. Mining deep into the toe, he retrieved three sets of shoelaces: a white pair, a brown pair, and a black pair.

  "I can really use these! Thanks, everyone," Harold said.

  Margaret interrupted their festivities. She served everyone a cup of tea, leaving sugar cubes and a milk pitcher on the desk. Then she returned to the kitchen. Noise from that area and the pub signaled help had arrived and the meal preparations were underway.

  "Angus, you're next," Duncan said. He wanted Angela to open her gifts last.

  Angus received a leather wallet, belt, and box of caramels, which he tore open, popping one in his mouth. He chewed the candy and produced noises of contentment.

  Angela handed Duncan his stocking, moving closer to him on the sofa. He also received a wallet. He next retrieved two pairs of socks and a wine bottle opener. He could tell something rectangular still rested at the bottom. Duncan withdrew what looked like a book, wrapped in plain brown paper and red twine. He untied the string and removed the wrapper with care, gasping at what he held in his hands: a red covered first edition of Author Conan Doyle's The Sign of Four. Duncan was familiar with the book's value.

  "How did you get this?" he asked, shaking his head at Angela.

  The corners of her mouth curled upward, but she didn't answer. Duncan's head still moved from side to side in astonishment. Overwhelmed with her generosity, his mouth gaped open and he repeated his question.

  "I've been searching for some time. Over the years, I've made a few friends in the used book business. I did someone a favor and they kept an eye out for an affordable copy," she explained.

  "How did you know this was the one?" he asked.

  The Sign of Four was his all time favorite Sherlock Holmes novel. He'd read it over and over as a boy. He had a small collection of rare books, but had never gotten around to purchasing this.

  "You mentioned it once, a long while ago."

  "Thank you, Angela," Duncan said, wishing he was alone with the lass to properly express his appreciation. "Open yours," he added.

  Angela giggled as she dug around inside her Christmas stocking. She had to reach to the bottom to find a small box of chocolates and a tin of loose tea. She thanked the Dewar men, grinning at Duncan.

  "Is that all?" he asked with mock incredulity.

  "I'm afraid so," the lass replied.

  "You must have been a very bad girl indeed if that's all MacNicholas left," he joked, reaching inside the long knit sock. He continued, "MacNicholas is our kilted version of Santa… wait, what do we have here…?"

  Duncan handed the girl a small box he'd kept hidden in his palm.

  Angela gave her beau a grin before prying its li
d open. The box contained a very unique ring and matching earrings. She'd never seen anything like them. Carved from a shiny black stone, she guessed onyx, eight hollow quatrefoils, linked together, composed the band. In the middle of each shape, a jeweler had set a quarter carat brilliant cut diamond. A circle of channel set smaller diamonds seemed to float around each round stone. The earrings were each a single quatrefoil surrounding a solitaire. Duncan slipped the ring on Angela's finger as she admired its delicate design.

  "Do you like them?" he asked, tentatively.

  "They're beautiful," she answered.

  * * * * * *

  The happy couple strolled through the village while Mondo worked side by side in the kitchen with Margaret and Andrew Gordon. Armondo, through sheer willpower and determination, along with a heavy dose of persistence, had finally subdued the Blue Bell's chef and peace prevailed, at last, in the kitchen. Margaret was in her element, learning from two chefs at once. Her enthusiasm, good cheer, and gratitude went a long way towards soothing Andy. When the investigator suggested a walk, the rest of their party had tactfully allowed the pair some privacy. Angela wore her new jewelry, but Duncan had already packed his first edition away, ensuring its safety.

  "What do you think of Taye so far, Angela?"

  The lass inhaled cold, crisp oxygen and exhaled slowly, enjoying the view. Taye appeared beautiful, wrapped in winter charm. Villagers placed greens on their doors and lamp posts. The stone cottages, quaint businesses, and narrow lanes all added to the impression that this was an ideal place to live. A breeze drove tiny crystals, visible in the sunshine, through the air and Duncan was sure he felt them in his throat and lungs as he breathed. Everything appeared bright, sharp, and shiny beneath the layer of snow.

  "It's charming," Angela replied, adding, "and its people are so nice."