Six Merry Little Murders

by Lee Strauss et al.

  I looked at Ian. We weren’t doing good cop/bad cop so much as real cop/fake cop, but he’d obviously decided to trust me in this unorthodox investigation. He said, “If Lucy thinks your injury could have a bearing on this case, then I must ask you to answer the question. Again, if you’re uncomfortable speaking in front of the group, we can take you down to the station and ask you questions there.”

  She appealed to the room at large, holding her hands out. “This is ridiculous. I suffered a fall. My leg was broken in several places and never healed properly. It happened years go.”

  Ian cut his gaze to me, and I knew he was giving me silent permission to continue. I appreciated his trust in me and very much hoped I didn’t screw this up. “But where did you fall, Joan?” I felt sad pushing her, this old lady who’d suffered for so many years. “And what did you fall off?”

  There was a terrible silence. She looked at me, and whatever she saw must have told her I’d guessed the truth.

  And then her face seemed to fall in on itself. “How did you know?” she asked me. “How could you possibly know?”

  It was like there were only two of us in the room now. “Because you were the only one who was burned with the tea. From where the table was located, if the tea hit you on your left arm, it should’ve hit Priscilla and possibly Eileen. But no one was scalded but you.”

  “But Sarah could’ve done it, anyone could, and they could have picked up the teapot and knocked it over so it splashed on me.”

  “But that’s not what happened, is it? Are you really going to let Sarah take the blame for this?”

  She picked up her cold tea and took a sip. Her hands were shaking when she put the cup back down. “No. You’re right.”

  “Priscilla Carstairs wasn’t killed because of something that happened tonight. It happened many years ago. Why don’t you tell us what happened? All those years ago?”

  11

  Her eyes were clouded with age, and she gazed across the room as though she were gazing across the decades. Into the past.

  “You guessed it, of course. Priscilla and I both attended Miss Adelaide’s Ballet School. We were about twelve when we met, and we were the two best students in the class.” She smiled a little. “Priscilla was right. Miss Adelaide loved to show the rest of the class her turnout. It was excellent. But I was the more graceful dancer.

  “Miss Adelaide herself gave us both extra coaching. We were her star pupils, and she promised us that with hard work and dedication we could end up as professional dancers. Both of us shared the dream and worked tirelessly. We pushed each other on, but I thought it was healthy competition.”

  “But something happened,” I said.

  She nodded. She looked relieved to finally be telling the story. “We reached the age of seventeen and both had the opportunity to audition for a coveted spot as a junior dancer in a prestigious dance company.

  “I can’t tell you the excitement I felt. There were lots of girls there, but it very soon became clear that Priscilla and I were in competition for one of those coveted spots. We’d been practicing at the barre in the rehearsal hall to warm up for the final audition, and then Priscilla suggested that we go to the stage and see what it looked like. We’d just take a peek, she said, and then we’d run back and get ready for our final audition.

  “She’d always been so jealous of me that I should have been suspicious that she suddenly became so friendly.” Joan sighed heavily. “But I was a fool. I went with her. There we were, two young ladies in our black leotards with our hair done up in tight buns, dance slippers on our feet. We practiced arabesque and did some leaps across the stage. And then Priscilla walked to the very edge of the stage and looked over. “Come over here and look. That’s where the orchestra will play for us when we’re both famous ballerinas.”

  There was complete silence in the room. No one even breathed.

  “I followed her to the edge of the stage, and when I leaned over to look into the orchestra pit, Priscilla pushed me off the stage.”

  Even though her story had led us here, I still felt my heart jump. Sarah gasped.

  “I don’t to this day know what she’d intended, but I knew the minute I hit the ground that something terrible had happened. I heard my leg break. I lost consciousness, and when I woke up, I was in the hospital.”

  “Oh, how awful,” Eileen said.

  “Priscilla got the place, of course. I told my parents what had happened, and they complained to the ballet company and to Miss Adelaide. Priscilla, naturally, claimed that going on the stage had been my idea and while looking over into the orchestra pit, I had slipped and fallen. We were friends, she kept saying. And, naturally, anyone who’d seen us at the audition had witnessed nothing but friendly behavior.”

  Her hands tightened into fists. Her skin was so thin, I could see the white bones of her knuckles. “She even came to see me in hospital. Brought me flowers and pretended she believed her own lies. I screamed at her. Told her if I ever saw her again, I would kill her.”

  Clearly, Joan was a woman of her word.

  “To give the ballet company credit, they didn’t take her on after all. No doubt they weren’t sure who to believe but didn’t want to take the chance on a girl who might have harmed a rival dancer. That didn’t stop Priscilla. She kept auditioning, and eventually she was taken in by a ballet company. I followed her career for a while. Every promotion, every triumph felt as though she’d pushed me off the stage once more. It was too painful, and eventually I stopped.”

  She sighed. “It had been so long, I didn’t think I even hated her anymore. Then, when this thin old woman turned up at the knitting circle, I didn’t even recognize her. It had been sixty-five years, so she didn’t look like her younger self, and she had a different surname. It wasn’t until she told that story tonight about Miss Adelaide’s school and I really looked at her that I recognized her. She was the same Priscilla who had destroyed my career and left me a virtual cripple for all my life while she went on to stardom. She got away with it for so long. And when she spoke to Sarah that way, I knew she was still cruel.”

  “Did you intend to kill her?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. I was filled with hatred. It was as fresh as the day she killed my dance career. When the lights went out, I simply acted. I reached out blindly for one of those stupid baubles that she was knitting for herself. I don’t think I intended to kill her. I just wanted to shove her appalling selfishness and cruelty down her throat. But then she started making noises, and so I had to knock the table to create enough noise to cover it. I began to scream that I’d been burned and then caught the teapot before it fell, spilled some onto myself, and then dropped that on the floor as well.”

  She shrugged. “Then I sat back down in my seat and waited for the lights to come back on. I didn’t know whether Priscilla was dead or alive, and I didn’t much care either way. It was how she must have felt when she pushed me off that stage.”

  Ian nodded to the sergeant, who formally arrested Joan Fawcett, and then she was led away, leaning heavily on her cane. As she passed me, she said, “Thank you for the tea. I feel much better. Even the pain in my leg is better.”

  I’d felt it was the least I could do when I’d known I was going to turn her in to Ian. “I’ll make sure and send you some,” I promised her. Even if I had to deliver it to jail.

  After she left, we all sat there, stunned, until Ian said, “You’re all free to go. Just make sure you leave your contact details with the constable downstairs. We may need to contact you again.”

  Hudson got up and gathered his things, then turned to me. “I’m sorry, Lucy. But I don’t think I’ll be coming to knitting circle anymore.”

  Eileen packed up little Henry’s sweater and pushed it back into her knitting bag. “I don’t think I’ll be back, either.”

  Sarah Lawson opened her mouth to speak, and I held up my hands. “Don’t worry. Knitting circle is canceled until further notice.”

  Mabel
and Clara left with the others, and I suspected they’d soon tell the other vampires what had happened.

  After they left, only Ian remained. “You handled that well. How did you know about Joan Fawcett and Priscilla Carstairs’s past?”

  “Some of it was from scraps of conversation I picked up, and some was just a lucky guess.” And I couldn’t tell him about my secret accomplice. The vampire who was at this moment downstairs on a very powerful computer, no doubt waiting for Ian to leave.

  “Well, I’m sorry your evening had to end this way.” His gaze went to my kitchen. “But I’ll have one of those biscuits if I may. They look delicious.”

  I sent him away with a bag of half a dozen white chocolate and cranberry cookies.

  Soon I’d have to go downstairs and clean up the mess, but not quite yet.

  I sat on my couch, and Nyx came out of the bedroom, making sure everyone was gone before she jumped up and settled onto my lap.

  “Nyx,” I said, “I’m not sure knitting circle for humans was such a good idea.”

  She rubbed her head against my arm, which was her way of asking for a belly rub. I heard the downstairs door open and light footsteps coming up the stairs. “Oh, Lucy, Rafe and Mabel and Clara have been telling us all about your ordeal. What a dreadful evening.”

  It was my grandmother. She might be undead, but she was still my beloved gran. She sat down beside me to give me a hug. Behind her came Rafe. “We saw Joan Fawcett being led away. Did you get her to confess?”

  “I did.”

  “Well done, Lucy.”

  “I couldn’t have done it without you researching Miss Adelaide’s Ballet School and Priscilla’s career.”

  Gran said, “You two make a very good team.”

  And then she pulled out her knitting. “I’ve invited a few of the others to come up. I thought we’d have an impromptu knitting circle of our own. Just to make you feel better.”

  “Thanks, Gran.” She must have known I didn’t feel like being alone right now. I felt bad that I couldn’t work on her Christmas gift, but the truth was, I didn’t feel much like knitting, either.

  Theodore and Sylvia arrived next with Clara and Mabel. They were whispering and looking pleased with themselves. Gran said, “We have a surprise for you. To cheer you up.”

  Theodore passed me a gift bag, looking bashful. “It’s from all of us. A little gift for you to wear in the shop.”

  The vampires often gave me things to wear, but I could tell from their expressions that this was something special. I pulled out the knitted sweater and immediately felt my spirits lift.

  It was a Christmas jumper. Possibly one of the most ridiculous sweaters ever knit by man or vampire.

  It was red, with a large green Christmas tree featured on the front, with a big gold star on top stitched in actual gold thread, and on the tree were hand-knitted baubles that hung off the sweater. I could tell Nyx thought it was an elaborate cat toy, and when her paw headed to one of the swinging, sparkling balls, I stopped her. “Don’t even think about it.”

  “Try it on,” Mabel said.

  I didn’t need more encouragement. I pulled the sweater on over my black T-shirt and pulled my hair out of the neck. The sweater was a perfect fit, of course. I ran to the mirror and admired myself, turning this way and that. Every time I moved, the Christmas ornaments danced.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said. “I love it. I can’t wait to wear it in the shop.”

  And I decided that I would never mock the tradition of the Christmas jumper again.

  More from Nancy Warren

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  Vampire Knitting Club

  The Vampire Knitting Club - Book 1

  Stitches and Witches - Book 2

  Crochet and Cauldrons - Book 3

  Stockings and Spells - Book 4

  Purls and Potions - Book 5

  Fair Isle and Fortunes - Book 6

  Lace and Lies - Book 7

  Bobbles and Broomsticks - Book 8

  Cat’s Paws and Curses - A Vampire Knitting Club Holiday Whodunnit

  Toni Diamond Mysteries

  Toni is a successful saleswoman for Lady Bianca Cosmetics in this series of humorous cozy mysteries. Along with having an eye for beauty and a head for business, Toni's got a nose for trouble and she's never shy about following her instincts, even when they lead to murder.

  Frosted Shadow - Book 1

  Ultimate Concealer - Book 2

  Midnight Shimmer - Book 3

  A Diamond Choker For Christmas - A Toni Diamond Mysteries Novella

  The Almost Wives Club

  An enchanted wedding dress is a matchmaker in this series of romantic comedies where five runaway brides find out who the best men really are!

  The Almost Wives Club: Kate - Book 1

  Second Hand Bride - Book 2

  Bridesmaid for Hire - Book 3

  The Wedding Flight - Book 4

  If the Dress Fits - Book 5

  Take a Chance series

  Meet the Chance family, a cobbled together family of eleven kids who are all grown up and finding their ways in life and love.

  Kiss a Girl in the Rain - Book 1

  Iris in Bloom - Book 2

  Blueprint for a Kiss - Book 3

  Every Rose - Book 4

  Love to Go - Book 5

  The Sheriff's Sweet Surrender - Book 6

  The Daisy Game - Book 7

  Chance Encounter - Prequel

  Take a Chance Box Set - Prequel and Books 1-3

  For a complete list of books, check out Nancy’s website at nancywarren.net

  About Nancy Warren

  Nancy Warren is the USA Today Bestselling author of more than 70 novels. She’s originally from Vancouver, Canada, though she tends to wander and has lived in England, Italy and California at various times. While living in Oxford she dreamed up The Vampire Knitting Club. She currently splits her time between Bath, UK, where she often pretends she’s Jane Austen. Or at least a character in a Jane Austen novel, and Victoria, British Columbia where she enjoys living by the ocean. Favorite moments include being the answer to a crossword puzzle clue in Canada’s National Post newspaper, being featured on the front page of the New York Times when her book Speed Dating launched Harlequin’s NASCAR series, and being nominated three times for Romance Writers of America’s RITA award. She has an MA in Creative Writing from Bath Spa University. She’s an avid hiker, loves chocolate and most of all, loves to hear from readers! The best way to stay in touch is to sign up for Nancy’s newsletter at www.nancywarren.net.

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  About This Book

  It’s Angie’s first time really celebrating Christmas as a pet owner, and she can’t wait to celebrate with Octo-Cat, Paisley, and Nan. All it takes is a little finely crafted trickery to get her crabby tabby into the local pet supply store for a special photo opportunity with Santa. Unfortunately, the jolly old soul is found dead in the stockroom before he ever gets the chance to say “cheese.” Angie and her motley crew of sidekicks need to work fast to find the culprit and prevent any further suspicious holiday slaying… Otherwise, the most wonderful time of the year could end up becoming the most murderous season Blueberry Bay has ever seen.

  1

  Hi, my name’s Angie Russo, and I can talk to animals. Yes, talk to them and understand when they talk back. Now before you write me off as some crazy person, let me tell you that I never asked for this special ability of mine.

  In fact, it took me quite by shock… Um, literally.

  That’s right. My strange power first surfaced when I got electrocuted by a crummy old coffee maker. It happened at the firm where I used to work as a paralegal, right in the middle of a will reading. And when I awoke from that zap, I found a striped cat sitting on my chest and making some pretty mean jokes at my expense.
>
  As soon as I realized the voice was coming from him and he realized that I could understand what he said, that cat recruited me to help solve the murder of his late owner.

  Well, we solved it all right, and then many more crimes after that. In fact, the two of us now have our own private investigation firm, which my mom and my nan have rather unfortunately dubbed Pet Whisperer P.I.

  I don’t want anyone to know my secret, so we pretend it’s just a marketing gimmick. Still, we haven’t had any paying clients since opening, and the cheesy name could very well be the reason for it.

  We’re not giving up, though.

  Nobody’s hired us directly, but we still manage to stumble into fresh cases on a near monthly basis—from murder to embezzlement and everything in between, we find the bad guys of Blueberry Bay and make sure they don’t get away with their crimes.

  And as nice as it would be to get paid for the services we provide, my cat’s trust fund covers all our expenses and then some, including the schmancy New England manor house we call home. The property belonged to Octo-Cat’s previous owner—yeah, the murdered one—and he wasn’t willing to give it up to live in my low-budget rental, so, well, here we are.

  Octo-Cat’s full name is Octavius Maxwell Ricardo yada yada yada… Fulton Russo, Esquire. Seriously, the guy has like eight names, thus the shortened moniker. He has his own iPad, only drinks Evian, and is pretty much spoiled in every single way possible. Still, I love the guy and wouldn’t trade him for the world.

  We also live with Nan, my eccentric grandmother who happens to be a former Broadway actress, one who refuses to put her glory days behind her. A few months ago, she adopted a sweet little tri-color Chihuahua from the local animal shelter and dubbed the tiny dear Paisley. We all had a rough go at first, but now Octo-Cat and Paisley are good friends—probably because it’s quite easy for him to boss around a dog that’s less than half his size.