Jason’s look turned serious. “I’ve got some news. I arrested Gordy Strange for the murder of Billy Craighoff, and Janine Lassiter for conspiracy to commit murder.”
My mouth fell open. “Janine?”
“You up for this, Mo? I can come back,” Jason asked.
“I’m all ears. The sooner we get this mess wrapped up, the better,” Mo said.
The sheriff pulled up a chair and sat down. “It seems Janine plotted with Gordy to find a way to get the town council to put forth a vote of no confidence against you, so she could get her boyfriend hired in your place.”
My heart plummeted at what might have happened to me when Deputy Strange accosted me outside the café.
“When you called me about the surveillance tape, I got suspicious,” the sheriff said, looking straight at me.
“What tape?” Mo asked.
“Uh.” I gulped. “The one from the loading dock.”
Mo narrowed his eyes. “And how are you involved?”
Jason waved him off. “Doesn’t matter. The point is, Gordy collected the tape but never turned it in to evidence. Instead, he gave it to Janine. That’s how your photo turned up in the Chronicle.”
A nurse came to check on Mo. Once his vitals had been recorded, the sheriff continued. “When Mattie called me about the tape, I went out to the site and found a backup copy. I couldn’t identify the Santa from the video, but when he attacked you, Mo, the dog got in between the two of you and bit Santa on the hand.”
I sucked in a breath. “What I don’t understand is why Strange killed Craighoff. And why they were dressed up.”
“Janine concocted this whole scheme to discredit me and the department?” Mo asked.
“Billy was a pawn, expendable. They needed a victim, and he was available. Probably told him they were going to steal the contents of the donation bin. Anyway, it was his dumb luck to go along with the plan. The costumes were an effort to keep anyone from getting suspicious. No one would question Santa or an elf being in the vicinity of the Christmas collection bin. Gordy shot Billy, and the gunshot is what alerted a passerby who called in to report it. For once, Billy was a victim.”
I crossed my arms and gave my husband a smug look. “See, Lou had nothing to do with this.”
The hospital released Mo early Christmas Eve morning. Our family had arrived, and Mo felt good enough to attend the charity dinner. This would be the first year since Lizbeth and I had been co-chairing the event that we’d let the little ones down. Between the two of us, we’d made some small purchases for necessities, but for the most part, the tree would be bare.
Donny and Lizbeth were waiting for us when we pulled into the parking lot. Lizbeth made a big fuss over baby Ben. I knew she dreaded entering the hall as much as I did.
Finally, I tugged her and said, “Let’s get this over with.”
Donny, along with my son-in-law, unloaded the packages from both our cars and carried them inside.
I stepped through the door into the hall and marveled at the decorations. The high school art class had outdone themselves. When my gaze landed on the huge tree in the corner, I blinked twice. Gifts were wrapped and stacked and spilling out in every direction.
“What the heck?” I turned my attention to Lizbeth, who stood gape-mouthed staring at the massive pile. “Do you know anything about this?”
She shook her head. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
I knew Mo hadn’t had an opportunity. All eyes turned on Donny. “Don’t look at me. My salary only stretches so far.”
Before we could ponder the situation further, the doors opened, and the families piled in. Chaos reigned until Lizbeth clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention.
She gestured to the rows of dining tables decked out in holly. “Will everyone take a seat? Pastor Peterson will say a prayer, then we’ll call the tables one by one up to the buffet line.”
Anxious kids groaned but dutifully trudged to their chairs behind grateful parents.
“After you clean your plates, Santa will hand out the gifts,” I announced.
My son-in-law, Michael, disappeared into the restroom with the Santa suit he’d borrowed from Mo. He’d needed a few extra pillows to fill out the suit Mo usually wore.
The church ladies outdid themselves with the buffet. Besides ham and turkey, they’d loaded the steam table with mashed potatoes, candied yams, green beans, corn, and enough yeast rolls to guarantee Mo stayed in shape for the Santa suit next year. The banquet included every kind of salad imaginable and tables jam-packed with Mezo’s pies.
After dinner, the children lined up and waited patiently for Carrie, my eldest, to call each of their names for the strange collection of gifts. There were even gifts for Lizbeth and Donny and everyone in my family, except me.
“What the heck?” I squealed. “I’ve been good.”
Mo leaned in close and whispered, “I’ll give you your present later.” Then he let out a sexy laugh that heated more than just my cheeks.
While the parents shuffled their children outside, my exhausted friends and family collapsed. I’d asked my family and Lizbeth and Donny to hold off opening their gifts until everyone had left.
Lizbeth was like a child shaking her present and holding it to her ear. “Can we open them now?”
“Sure.” I smiled, still a bit puzzled why I didn’t have a gift. And confused about where they came from.
Sadie, my youngest, along with Carrie and Michael, each opened new cell phones.
“What in the world? Where did those come from?” I asked.
“Beats me, but I hope I got one too.” Lizbeth tore the paper off and was rewarded with an activity tracker. “Ack! How did Santa know I needed this?” she asked, patting her hips.
Donny received season passes for a local Double-A baseball team. “I know what I’m going to be doing this summer.”
Carrie carefully unwrapped baby Ben’s gift to reveal ten crisp hundred dollar bills with a note that read, “Ben’s Education Fund.”
Carrie looked back and forth at her dad and me. “You guys didn’t have to do this. You already started a college fund for him.”
Mo and I shook our heads simultaneously. “Not us,” I said, confident Mo hadn’t acted without me.
Everyone turned to Mo.
“Your turn,” I said.
Mo handed me a small package. “Hard to do one-handed.”
I tugged at the ribbon, which refused to give.
“I’d give you my pocketknife, but you can’t be trusted,” Mo said. “I can’t afford another busted shoulder.”
I finally broke the ribbon and opened the box. Inside was a key and a note. “It’s time you retired, Mo. Not because you’re too old for the job, but because you deserve to use whatever time you have left on this planet to enjoy yourself. Take your beautiful wife outside where your gift awaits.”
“What’s this all about?” I asked.
The rest of the group had already headed to the parking lot.
Tears welled in Mo’s eyes. “I’ve got a pretty good idea.” He took my hand and tugged me out of my chair.
Outside, I saw an RV outfitted with a big red bow. Mezo sat in the driver’s seat. Max was lying near the door. As we approached, he got up and made tentative steps toward me. When he was close enough, I reached out. He didn’t back away but instead sniffed my fingers.
“No hot dogs today, buddy,” I said.
Mo gave me the side-eye. “You’ve been feeding the dog?”
“Ignore him,” I said to Max. I slowly slid my hand across his head and scratched him behind his ear. He leaned into my leg. When Mo inserted the key into the door of the motor home and pulled it open, Max hesitated, then bounded up the one step and made himself at home on the couch.
The living area was filled with decorations, and in the corner, under a small artificial Christmas tree, sat my mother’s nativity set. A few stray tears welled up, and soon they were streaming down my cheeks.
Mo’s eyes even dampened. He swiped at them, then reached over and rubbed a thumb under each of my eyelids. When he pulled me into a hug, I buried my head against his chest and sobbed.
Max barked and scooted between us, apparently wanting to be part of the moment.
I pulled away from Mo and cuffed Mezo on the shoulder. “How long has Lou been planning this?”
He shrugged. “Ever since he got the bad news from the doc.”
My heart swelled with love for the man who had been—would always be—more than a stepfather to me. “He knew he was dying and kept it from me?”
Mezo looked down and kicked at the toe of his shoe. “Afraid so. He didn’t want to worry you. Said he’d never get a moment’s peace with you hovering over trying to nurse him back to health.”
“I would not,” I exclaimed.
Mo coughed.
“Okay, I would,” I conceded.
Mezo gave me an awkward hug and shook hands with Mo. “I was just trying to do what Lou wanted. No hard feelings?”
“No,” I said.
Mezo smiled, waved, and made a hasty exit.
“Are you okay with this?” I asked Mo.
He nodded. “Lou and I had a long talk the other day while you were on the phone with Lizbeth. He told me he’d already sold the café to Mezo and wanted to do something special with the proceeds. With Janine and Gordy behind bars, I can retire knowing the town will be in good hands. Tim’s agreed to step into the role of acting chief until they find a replacement. But I’ll put in a good word for him.”
I brushed back tears, looked upward, and whispered, “Thank you, Lou.”
THE END
Releasing in 2021
Cover Design by Mariah Sinclair
Flea Market Felony, The Mattie and Mo Mysteries. A cozy mystery with baby boomers Mattie and Mo Modesky and their rescue dog Max.
Also by Tricia L. Sanders
Murder is a Dirty Business
Murder is a Dirty Business (Grime Pays Mystery Book 1)
Between hot flashes and divorce papers, a middle-aged woman reconsiders her outlook on life when she butts heads with a hot detective during a murder investigation.
When Cece Cavanaugh’s husband empties their joint bank account, steals her designer luggage, and runs off with a younger woman, Cece must decide whether to ask her manipulative mother-in-law for a handout or get a job. Choosing the easier path, Cece lands a job cleaning a crime scene where a high school coach was murdered. When his wife is implicated—a young woman Cece practically raised—Cece finds herself mopping floors, balancing an empty checkbook, and ferreting out a killer.
Amid all this messy business, Cece bumps heads with a handsome detective. She tries to ignore her growing attraction to the detective, but he gives new meaning to the term “hot flash.”
After she stumbles onto a clue that could vindicate her friend, her elation turns to panic when she haphazardly confronts the killer. Through the danger and romance, Cece discovers self-reliance and inner strength. And that crime—at least, someone else’s—does pay the bills.
Death, Diamonds, and Freezer Burn
Death, Diamonds, and Freezer Burn
(Grime Pays Mystery Book 2)
An unwelcome visitor, an unrequited love, and a dead body create chaos in a middle-aged woman’s plan for a productive summer.
Despite a looming divorce, an empty checkbook, and a struggling cleaning business, Cece Cavanaugh is determined to land on her own two feet. Adamant about staying a safe distance from the handsome detective who has her fantasizing about violating the morals clause in her prenuptial agreement, Cece dives headlong into her work.
Even though she has no free time to spare, Cece finds herself guilted into cleaning a hoarder’s home. Her discoveries in the condemned house are too shocking to ignore. Diamond-laden pachyderms, a secret cache of money, and a dead body lure Cece into launching an investigation that places her in direct contact with the one person she’s desperate to avoid--hunky Detective Case Alder.
With clues in hand, Cece runs down leads and eliminates suspects one by one. Her conclusion and brave accusation put a friend’s life in peril forcing Cece to hatch a plan to outsmart the killer. A daring move could either save Cece and her friend or lead to their demise.
Pensions, Tensions, and Homicide
Pensions, Tension, and Homicide (Grime Pays Mystery Book 3)
A former friend, a runaway mother, and a dead body threaten to spoil a middle-aged woman’s plan for a low-key family Thanksgiving.
Cece Cavanaugh’s latest job recommendation comes from a former friend—a woman who turned her back when Cece needed her friendship most. Cleaning a flooded school is a big job, and Cece needs money for Thanksgiving dinner.
But when she finds herself ankle-deep in mud, checking the pulse of her friend’s ex-husband, the job takes an unexpected turn and ensures the arrival of hunky Detective Case Alder. With her divorce from her trust-fund husband just days away, Cece is determined to keep her emotions in check. That’s hard when tensions are high, and Alder is determined to keep Cece out of harm’s way.
As Cece cleans the school, she learns more about the suspects, teachers and staff present the day of the murder. As she gathers evidence, the killer closes in on his next target. To compound her problems, Cece’s elderly mother arrives in Wickford—baggage in hand, and still Cece isn’t ready for Thanksgiving dinner.
Despite a threatening note, a series of false leads, and wrangling her runaway mother, Cece narrows down the suspects, but will the killer seal her fate before Cece can solve the case?
About the Author
Photo by Alecia Hoyt
Tricia L. Sanders writes cozy mysteries and women’s fiction. She adds a dash of romance and a sprinkling of snark to raise the stakes. Her heroines are humorous women embarking on journeys of self-discovery all the while doing so with class, sass, and a touch of kickass.
Even though she lives in Texas, she’ll be a St. Louis Cardinals baseball fan forever. Don't get between her and the television when a game is on.
A former instructional designer and corporate trainer, she traded curriculum writing for novel writing, because she hates bullet points and loves to make stuff up. And fiction is more fun than training guides and lesson plans.
Visit her website www.triciasanders.com.
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