The Christmas Tree Caper

by Melodie March

  The Christmas Tree Caper

  Wintervale Mysteries - Book 1

  Melodie March

  Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Epilogue

  Recipes from Wintervale

  Coming Soon to Wintervale Mysteries

  Coming Soon from Melodie March…

  Letters from Wintervale

  About the Author

  Also by Melodie March

  Prologue

  It was just after 2am in Wintervale and the vintage street lamps that peppered Pine Street were dimming for the rest of the night until they turned off at dawn. A light snow began to fall as a person, hidden in the shadows of the trees from the park, crossed the street toward a stretch of storefronts almost as old as Wintervale itself. In preparation for the Christmas Eve store window decoration contest, most of the windows were draped in festive sheets that made it impossible to see anything happening behind them. It wasn’t the best for tourist season, as many of the shops really drew customers in with their windows, but the excitement generated by the reveals more than made up for it.

  The person in the shadow didn’t need to see inside the windows; they knew exactly what they wanted and even better, they knew precisely where it was.

  As they crossed the street from the park, they left no footprints behind them, since every mark was quickly covered with more falling snow. Everything in Wintervale closed by midnight, so the streets were long abandoned, with everyone snug in their beds, keeping warm against the snowstorm. Best of all, the snow might muffle some of the sound of what was to come…

  The figure, their face carefully hidden behind the high collar of a trench coat, walked slowly up Pine Street, each step slow and deliberate. When they stopped in front of Golden Oldies, an antique shop owned by Steve and Kit Farmer, they leaned back against the building for a moment as if to catch their breath. Somewhere in the distance, the hoot of an owl startled the mysterious stranger from their moment of rest, and they instead proceeded with their plan.

  The figure approached the large front window for Golden Oldies, more assured now, and reached under their coat. Their hand returned with something strange and square, and it only became menacing when the person reared it back and smashed the object directly into the center of the Golden Oldies window. The glass shattered into thousands of pieces, and the figure had to duck to avoid being hit by glass themself, but no alarm went off. No one in Wintervale had security alarms, because break-ins just didn’t happen in Wintervale.

  It was just that kind of attitude that the mysterious stranger was counting on. They used their weapon of destruction to pull down a red sheet covered in pine trees that was obscuring the shop’s Christmas window design. The Christmas tableau was still in the early stages, but it looked like the Farmers were building an old fashioned holiday scene in their window, complete with a fireplace, a vintage armchair, and a beautiful Christmas tree.

  Just as I hoped, the stranger thought as they carefully crawled up inside of the window display. It only took them a minute to find what they were looking for, because it was sparkling from a position of pride on the tree. With a satisfied smile, they slipped their bounty into the pocket of their trench coat, then slowly crawled back out. A thick pair of gloves protected their hands from the shards of glass that were scattered everywhere, otherwise they would have further evidence of their well-planned crime everywhere.

  Just as the mysterious stranger suspected, not a single soul was aware of their crime yet. The street was as quiet and peaceful as it had been when they arrived; the glass on the sidewalk was already almost entirely covered with snow. For a moment, they thought perhaps that they should have hung the sheet back up to delay the inevitable, but since it was exactly that, the stranger simply crossed the street back to the park and began the long walk back to where their own bed was waiting for them.

  Maybe tonight, the stranger’s dreams would have a little extra sparkle in them...

  Chapter One

  “Meg! Gladys! I’m sorry your food is running late. The kitchen was slammed at the last minute. But I promise, you’re the next order up!”

  James Everley, the owner of The Middle Road Inn, was running around the restaurant like a madman. The holiday season was the busiest in Wintervale, Vermont and since every visitor knew they just had to eat at the famous Middle Road Inn, the locals tended to be a little more patient this time of year. Lucky for James, he was also my grandson-in-law, so he got a little extra leeway from my best friend, Gladys, and me when we came by for breakfast before work.

  “Take your time, kiddo. Henry can watch the shop until I get back,” I said with a chuckle as I pictured my senior citizen cat ringing up charges at my shop, Meow & Then. But since Gladys had already heard that joke a dozen times before, she just shook her head and took another long sip of her tea, while glaring at me through half closed eyes.

  “Meggie, you’re just a touch too cheerful for me this morning.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh, even though I had a touch of sympathy for her.

  “I take it you went to see that Clover Fuse cover band in Burlington with Allison last night?” Gladys never really grew out of her 60s flower child phase and she was lucky that another woman in town hated to have missed out on it by ten years.

  “At the last minute. I guess we both forgot we had to work today. I promised Belle I’d help with her window,” Gladys said, finishing with a grateful sigh as the waiter set down our orders in front of us. She was a vegan, but could still eat more than anyone I've ever met. There were four different plates in front of her and I knew she’d eat every bite. I was just happy with an omelette and some fruit, especially because James made the best Denver omelette in four states.

  “Do I get any clues about what my granddaughter is doing in her window or are you sworn to secrecy too?” I asked before I took a bite of the delicious eggs.

  “I promise, I’m not trying to change the subject…”

  She was.

  “But Will Slater is over there having breakfast with his son and he hasn’t stopped staring at you since he sat down.”

  I knew Gladys was telling the truth but I couldn’t bring myself to turn around either. Will Slater was Wintervale’s retired sheriff, now that his son took over, but he was also my childhood sweetheart. We broke up when I decided I was leaving town at eighteen to see the world. Except, I met my husband Griffin as he traveled through Wintervale the next summer with a folk band and neither of us ever left the town again. Now, Will and I were both widowed and he’d been trying for a while to remind me of what we had back then.

  It didn’t help that he was even more handsome now than he was when he was a teenager.

  “Don’t encourage him, Gladys! He asked me out again last week and I told him it wasn’t going to happen, just like I tell him every time. But then he looks at me with those icy blue eyes and well, I think I forget where I am for a minute.”

  Gladys shook her head as she took a sip of tea. “One of these days, Meg, you’re gonna realize. And it might be too late.”

  My best friend spent the last few years trying to convince me it was time to move on, that Griffin wouldn’t begrudge me happiness at this point in my life. But I still couldn’t quite let go yet. And I wasn’t going to rush for anybody.

&nbs
p; “Quit staring or you’re going to have the actual sheriff asking us questions. Anyway, I still haven’t decided what to do with the window yet. I figured I would throw it together at the last minute. We all know who the winner will be, anyway,” I said, gesturing in the direction of Golden Oldies antique store. Kit and Steve Farmer did such fine work on their window for so many years, that they won every single time Wintervale held the contest. It finally tapered off a handful of years earlier, but Tate Lewis, who worked for the city, thought it would be great fun to bring it back. He also thought it would bring even more tourists in for the Christmas Eve festival that Wintervale held every year.

  Personally, I had no idea how we would fit one more tourist into our tiny town, but every year, more and more people showed up for a taste of an old-fashioned Christmas. It was one of our favorite times of year around here, even if it meant a longer wait at The Middle Road Inn.

  “Even if Kit and Steve win the contest,” Gladys said as she ate a piece of apple, “I think it’s going to be a lot of fun. Liza Matheson designed a dress for her window made entirely out of tinsel and it’s beautiful. Her daughter offered to model it until she found out she was going to be standing in the window for at least six hours. Liza agreed to spring for a new mannequin instead.”

  I had a feeling that was a short conversation.

  “I suppose I need to really start thinking about it in earnest. There are only a few weeks left, aren’t there?”

  Gladys rolled her eyes at me.

  “I’ve been trying to tell you that since Thanksgiving, Meggie, but…”

  Gladys didn’t get a chance for her “I told you so,” because the door of The Middle Road Inn flew open and Kit Turner came charging into the restaurant like a woman half of ninety-one years old. She paused for a moment next to Will and Ross’s table, but then rushed over to us in a panic.

  “Meg! Gladys! You’ll never… it’s just awful… I left Steve over there… he was just going to call… Meg, they destroyed it! It’s such a horrible mess!”

  I reached out and took Kit’s hand in mine.

  “Now, just take a breath, Kit. Start at the beginning. Tell us what happened.”

  By now, Will and Sheriff Ross had made their way over to our table to see what all of the commotion was. In fact, every eye in The Middle Road Inn was watching us like we were a weekday soap.

  “Go back to your pancakes, people. You’ll know what’s going on soon enough,” Gladys shouted out to the other diners at the restaurant with a shake of her head. “Go ahead now, Kitty.”

  She looked over her shoulder and when she turned back, there were tears in her eyes.

  “The store, Meg. Someone has destroyed the store.”

  “What?” Gladys and I said at the same time. Kit was already headed for the door.

  “Just come. You have to come and see. It’s so terrible!”

  Chapter Two

  We followed Kit to Golden Oldies in formation, like a row of ducks headed down the sidewalk to Elm Street pond. Even from a distance, I could see Kit’s husband, Steve, standing outside the shop with a broom as he debated whether or not to start sweeping up the mess that had been made outside of their store. From the front of our line, Sheriff Ross shouted out,

  “Don’t touch anything, Steve! It could all be evidence!”

  As if he were back in the Navy and getting orders, Steve stood up straight and tall, holding the broom dutifully by his side.

  “Sorry, Sheriff,” he called back with a polite nod. “I just didn’t want anyone to get hurt on the glass.”

  I picked up my pace a little so I could stand next to Kit when we got to the scene of the crime. She hadn’t been exaggerating; someone had shattered the entire store window, though they hadn’t been particularly careful when they did it. Jagged pieces of glass still jutted out from the frame on all sides, creating an awfully dangerous situation for anyone trying to get inside. There were also footprints in red glitter on the sidewalk outside of the shop, but to my eye, they looked a little too small to belong to someone who had done so much damage.

  “Mr. Farmer,” Sheriff Ross said as he held out his hand to Steve. “I’m sorry for your ordeal. Do you or Mrs. Farmer have any idea what happened here?”

  Steve pointed the broom in the direction of the window.

  “Well… well… some hooligan broke the window of course! Then they tore down the sheet we had hiding our display for the contest.”

  I gave Kit’s hand a gentle squeeze.

  “Did they take anything, Kit? From the window or the store?”

  She looked at me with tears in her eyes, then nodded as steadfastly as she could.

  “Only one thing is missing. The star. Ruthie’s star.”

  I couldn’t help but gasp and cover my mouth in shock when she told me what was gone. “Ruthie’s star,” as it had come to be known by people our age in Wintervale, was a precious heirloom left in Kit’s care since the 70s. It was an ornament had belonged to one of our dearest friends, Ruthie Middleton, and before Ruthie, it could be traced back almost a hundred years to her family in Russia. When Ruthie unexpectedly passed away in a car accident, she left the star to Kit. It was a bit of a bone of contention among the Middleton family, but there was no one better suited to care for it than Kit Farmer.

  The Christmas window contest started not long after we lost Ruthie and every year since, Kit always hung that star in a place of honor at Goldie Oldies. It was only when a historian came through Wintervale in 1996 did we learn the ornament was worth quite a lot of money as well. Kit didn’t care a jot what it was worth… she just wanted to keep Ruthie’s star safe.

  And now it was gone.

  I could see that Kit was about to break down into tears, so I pulled her in close for a hug.

  Sheriff Ross was taking notes down as Steve told him about the star’s history, but every so often, I’d catch him glancing over in Gladys’s and my direction. I already knew we were in for a lecture. I just hoped that Will would intervene if it came down to that… again.

  “And you’re sure nothing else is missing from the store except for the star?” Ross asked. Steve and Kit both shook their heads.

  “Not a single thing. I can’t believe it but it seems like the person who did this knew exactly what they were looking for. I just don’t understand why anyone would want to steal Ruthie’s star! Meggie, do you have any ideas?” Kit asked me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Ross gearing up for the lecture and I winced as he stomped in my direction.

  “Alright, Mrs. Harrison, don’t get any ideas. I know you and your lady friends fancy yourselves some sort of private eye club when you aren’t off scaling the Green Mountains. But it would be better for everyone involved if you leave this to the real police.”

  Gladys snort laughed, even after I shot her daggers to stop.

  “Come on now, Ross. We’re not going to interfere in your investigation, all two of you. But this is Kit. We’re going to look after her.”

  Kit Farmer was the oldest member of the Green Mountain Grannies; in fact, she was one of the oldest ladies in Wintervale. She came to the town as a war bride from Australia in 1946 and her husband wasn’t the only person who fell in love with her. She was basically Wintervale’s resident grandma now and an attack on her was an attack on Wintervale.

  But Ross wasn’t on board.

  “Just don’t get in the middle of anything, Mrs. Harrison.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I’ve known you since the day you were born, Ross Slater. Stop it with that Mrs. Harrison stuff.”

  For the briefest flash of a second, I saw his cheeks turn pink, but he was quick to walk back over to Kit and Steve so I couldn’t see him. Gladys was just about to saunter over to me when I heard a far-too familiar voice in my ear.

  “Are you really going to let my son talk to you like that, Meggie Harrison?”

  When Will talked to me like that, in his breathy whisper, it made me feel like a teenager again. I still couldn’t decide if I
liked it or not.

  “Your son is the sheriff, Will Slater. What would you suggest I do? Challenge him to a duel in front of town hall?”

  Will laughed softly so he didn’t draw any attention to us, but it was still a laugh that brought back memories of warm summers and trips to the New Hampshire coast when we were seventeen.

  “Maybe a duel would do him some good. He’s been in quite a mood lately. But you know as well as I do that Ross is lucky to have you ladies watching his tail around here,” Will said with a wink. I chuckled even though I didn’t mean to.

  “It’s not as if Wintervale is drowning in crime, Will. The Grannies and I just so happen to have a nose in everything that happens in this town. It’s useful when something goes amiss, wouldn’t you say?”

  Will tipped his baseball hat in my direction.

  “You won’t get any argument from me, Meggie. Just try and stay out of Ross’s way. And if you need any help from me, you know the number.”

  As soon as Will was out of ear shot, Gladys was by my side like she was glued to me.

  “Well?” Gladys asked. “What did Will say?”

  I waved her off. “Nevermind that, Glady. Ross told us to stay out of it, so you know what that means.”

  She nodded.

  “We’re going to get right in the middle of it?”

  “You said it, not me,” I answered as I looked at my watch. “You need to get to the bakery. Maybe I’ll tag along and see if Belle heard anything.”

  Ross said that The Green Mountain Grannies couldn’t stick our noses in the investigation, but this was simply an innocent chat with my granddaughter…