The bell jingled. I spun to the door. The mayor’s security guard, or who I’d been led to believe was a guard, and three little boys and a toddler girl, entered. The kids ran toward the children’s section while the guard flopped into a chair near the windows. The little girl, about two, screeched and pointed at a book out of her reach. One of her brothers handed it to her. The toddler looked at the cover then clunked a different brother on the head with it.
“Quit it.” He snatched the book from his sister and tossed it.
“Books are for reading. Not throttling,” the exhausted dad said.
The toddler flashed a sweet smile at her dad. She picked out a larger book and smacked a different brother with it.
“Why did I agree to take them for the whole day?” He groaned and draped an arm over his eyes.
The foursome continued to pull books from the shelves and drop them on the floor or hit each other with them. The boys were nice enough not to retaliate against their baby sister who was doing most of the thumping.
“You might want to stop that before you leave with a huge bill. They’re going to ruin the books.” My voice was a little judgier than I intended. Or maybe not. Books were expensive, and the children were going to destroy quite a bit of them. Rachel couldn’t—and shouldn’t—take the loss because the father “quit” parenting.
He moved his arm, allowing me to see the terrified look in his gaze. “I’ll pay for the books. Stopping enraged people from visiting the mayor was easier than getting those four to listen. Especially the youngest. How will I explain to my sister her princess is a terrorist?”
So, the children were his niece and nephews. I didn’t feel quite as judgmental knowing the man wasn’t used to taking care of children. And four were a handful even for people used to wrangling kids.
“You just need the right tools.” I gasped and raised my voice. “Look at that, Santa has his camera running.”
All the children in the store grew quiet. Oops. I had no choice. On with my show. I pointed at the security camera located near the door and aimed toward the register. There was a red-light blinking. Business must’ve picked up as Rachel renewed the security service, or after Jenna’s death it was worth going into more debt. “I better make sure to put back the stuff I was looking at or Santa might skip my house. Don’t want to be on the naughty list this year.”
The nephews’ eyes widened. One by one, the boys ranging from five to nine years old, picked up the books and placed them back on the shelves, each sneaking a peek at the camera.
“Thanks.” The uncle said, giving a thumbs up.
“Invoking Santa’s name works about 75 percent of the time.”
“What do you do the 25 percent of the time it doesn’t work?”
“Bribery.”
He nodded toward the children who were cleaning up. “That is what bribery got me. I told them if they’d eat their lunch without smearing it on each other, we’d take a trip to the bookstore and they could pick out a book. I had no idea the youngest thought that meant choosing one to use as a club on her brothers.”
“There’s always one child you need to be a little more specific with.”
He smiled. “I’ll keep that mind. Thanks, Merry. I’m Jack.”
We shook hands. His grip was firm and warm. The sleeve of his flannel shirt retracted, and I saw the end of a tattoo. I was about to ask him if he could clarify his job title as the mayor and Norman seemed to differ on it when Garret walked over and interrupted the conversation.
“Cassie said no more than six crafters at a time. She tried eight and the kids were too crowded.”
My face flushed. Oops. “I offered to help with the Christmas craft since that’s kind of my thing.”
“What is? Christmas or crafts.”
“Both.”
“Let me give you a hand. I’m sure the four I brought will be over there soon to participate.”
Cassie ran over and hugged me. “Thanks so much for your help. I wasn’t sure we’d be able to pull off the craft. We keep getting slammed.”
“Where’s Rachel?” I was surprised she wasn’t in the store today. The day after the parade was usually a big day for the store.
“She had some errands to run and will be in later.”
“This is usually one of the biggest days. I’m surprised she’s not here considering not all her employees are reliable.” I kept my voice low not wanting Garrett to hear me. Right now, he was slowly meandering back to the register. No wonder Cassie was zipping around, the boy moved slower than a naughty child walking up to Santa.
Cassie’s eyes filled with tears. “Did Rachel say something about me? I’ve been trying to stay focused.”
Shame rippled through me. The poor girl. She thought I was talking about her. I was sure Cassie hadn’t been her bubbly and productive self at work lately. “No, sweetie, I’m sorry I said that. I’m just protective of you and Rachel mentioned Garrett not showing up on time yesterday. That’s why she was late to the float staging area.”
“He came to work early yesterday because Rachel had to leave for a family emergency.”
“I’m sorry. I must’ve misheard Rachel. It was chaotic last night with half the floats arriving late and around the same time.” I busied myself with sorting out the craft kits.
“It’s okay. Last night had to be so stressful for you. I’m going to get on my elf costume. Children listen better if they think I’m Santa’s elf.” Cassie gave me a one-armed hug and ran back to her stack of books.
I knew what I had heard. Rachel had lied to me about Garret. Why? Or was it that she hadn’t wanted to confide in me about her family issues? Her relationship with her parents was strained and she rarely talked about them. What had happened that Rachel was so ashamed of to not even want to ask her friends for help?
“That’s what I need,” Jack said. “An elf costume.”
“I’m surprised you had the day free to spend with your nephews and niece. I’m sure the mayor had a lot of people to contend with today. I’d think he’d want his security guard there.” I stole a look at Jack, wanting to see his reaction. Was he going to fess up?
Jack shrugged. “I’d have thought so too, but he called me this morning and told me he longer had a need for my services.”
What had the mayor hired him for and then no longer needed—right after Jenna was killed? Maybe Jack wasn’t a security guard, but the Mayor’s private bodyguard. Had Jenna been blackmailing the mayor? The bank slips. I had tossed them in the trash at One More Page yesterday. The police would need those.
I placed a plastic ornament onto the empty paper plate. “Can you make sure this table gets sticker sheets to decorate? I misplaced something yesterday and just remembered I tossed it in the trash when I was here. I’m hoping I can dig it out before it’s collected.”
“Good luck finding it. You might want to wear gloves in case there’s moldy food or dirty diapers.” Jack shuddered. “I’ve made that mistake before.”
Gloves first. I walked down the hallway and entered the women’s room, certain I’d find a pair of cleaning gloves underneath the sink. At the golf course, I made sure that each bathroom had a pair of gloves in the vanity. There was no way I’d clean without wearing a nice pair of plastic gloves to have a layer of protection between me and whatever I had to clean. It was the one thing I hated about the job, cleaning up after people.
The storage area of the vanity was filled with cleaners, extra toilet paper, and soap but not gloves. I moved the items, hoping they were hidden behind all the bottles. Nope. None here. The door to the men’s room was closed and I didn’t want to invade it. I knew Rachel kept general office supplies in her office. I hoped she didn’t mind that I went in there to find some gloves.
I tapped on the door. It creaked open. There was a soft glow coming from the computer monitor and an image was flickering, li
ke there was a moving image on the screen. Cassie and Garrett had said Rachel was out on an errand. Had Garrett been watching a movie in the office? Was that why they were behind in setting up for the craft and story time hour? Cassie loved her job. She wouldn’t have been back her goofing off with a ton of work to do.
The young man seemed to have just floated into town. I knew nothing about him, and Rachel didn’t seem to know much about him either except he attended the local college and needed a job.
For some reason, on her limited budget, Rachel decided to hire him. Of course, she did, I scolded myself, she had a soft heart. I knew that about her, and it wasn’t too hard for other people to figure that out either. It was also why her business just barely stayed afloat, Rachel was willing to look away when she noticed books walking out the door if she knew someone was struggling. Books were hope. Everyone deserved to have hope in their hands. Rachel was always the first to volunteer to help and to give people the benefit of the doubt.
Like you had at one time. The errant thought caused a sadness to well up inside of me. That was true. A few months ago, heck weeks ago, I had been the type of person who searched for the good in everyone around me and downplayed all negative qualities as just minor annoyances I’d learn to ignore or accept. Samuel’s murder had changed me. Now, I saw deceitfulness lurking in people and it made me leery and second-guess people. I wasn’t liking this new characteristic.
Rachel’s open heart was why I adored her, and I overlooked her one annoying trait: her gossip without gossiping. Rachel collected a lot of secrets as people usually forgot she was around and were a little too open within her earshot, but she never repeated anything without someone doing some prodding…and usually that came with a big hint from Rachel that she knew something you should know. That was also the difference between others’ gossip and Rachel’s. She only passed on the information to the people who needed to know rather than making it common knowledge.
I roved my gaze over the shelves on the back wall. No gloves. I glanced over at the wall where the plaque had hung. Frowning, I walked closer. There was a nail hole in the wall where the plaque had hung. It was smooth. I ran my finger over it. The nail hadn’t come loose, and the wooden plaque clobbered me on the head. Someone had removed it.
Who had been in the store that night and wanted to hurt me? Or have me not see something? There had been so many people in the store that night. Had it been Eric who snuck up on me?
“Can I help you, Merry?” There was a tinge of anger in Rachel’s voice.
“Sorry for coming back here without your permission. I was looking for some gloves to dig through the trash.”
“You were what?”
“I threw something away yesterday I should’ve kept.”
“Why are you staring at the wall in my office?”
“Because I think someone knocked me out last night. The plaque didn’t fall off the wall. Someone took it off.” A sudden rush of tears filled my eyes. I swiped them away, a little scared about the sudden onset of emotions. I wasn’t a bottle-everything-up type of woman, but I also didn’t wear my heart on my sleeves. I wasn’t sure who I was anymore and that scared me. I doubted people. Distrusted me. And now allowed everything to bring me to tears.
“You’re not making any sense.” Rachel led me to a chair and forced me to sit down. “How about you start from the beginning and tell me what’s going on. You’ve been acting so strange the last two days. I thought it was your argument with Jenna and then finding her body, but it’s something more. Isn’t it?”
I explained what happened Friday night. “I swore I heard someone behind me before the pain in my head. When I came to, Cassie was in the room and showed me the plaque that was on the floor. It made sense. Except for the computer monitor was off and the naughty sign was gone.”
Squeals came from the store. The craft and story hour had begun. Cassie needed help and here I was trying to figure out if the pastor was a suspect. Either I needed to head back to the front and get to crafting or search through the trash.
“Do you have any plastic gloves? I need to look through your trash and don’t want to touch anything icky. Nancy was running errands for Jenna and some bank slips fell out of her purse. One-hundred-thousand-dollar worth of deposits split between four banks. And I just found another receipt.” I refrained from saying where I found them. I didn’t want Rachel knowing I made a risky—and stupid—decision to go to Eric’s house. Alone.
Rachel’s eyes widened. “You’re sure about that.”
I nodded. “I think Jenna was blackmailing people.”
“That’s a good reason for someone to kill her.”
“That’s why I want to find them and give them to the police. There’s your motive.”
“Absolutely.” Rachel dug around in her desk and withdrew a pair of driving gloves. “Use these. I just put all the trash in the dumpster this morning. I’d help but I need to get up front and help Cassie and Garrett.”
“Thanks. Tell Cassie…” I trailed off, unsure how to explain my absence after I agreed to help her. “I had promised to do the craft.”
“Don’t worry. I’m sure you’ll come up with something if she asks. I’ll say Brett called you.”
I hugged her and snagged the gloves from the desk. “Thanks. Let me go get those slips before something happens to them.”
“Be careful. Sometimes feral cats get into the dumpster. Don’t want one to attack you.”
“Thanks for the warning.”
Rachel turned off the computer and headed down the hall into the store while I went out the back door to play in the dumpster.
I approached it cautiously, studying it. The door wasn’t too high off the ground and a quarter of the way opened. There was a small bag, like from an office trash can, right on top. I’d start with it before climbing inside. I leaned forward and sniffed the air a few times. The stench wasn’t too bad. I might not have to rush home and fumigate myself after searching for the bank slips and the sign.
The dumpster door squealed as I pushed it open. The kind of sound that grabbed onto your spine and made you grit your teeth. Donning the gloves, I grabbed the handle and pulled. The bag didn’t budge. Part of it was hooked onto a metal edge of the dumpster. Nothing worth doing was easy. I tugged again. Still didn’t move. Using booth hands, I yanked and lifted at the same time. The bag burst into pieces. Pieces of paper floated in the air, some landing on the ground others inside the dumpster.
I picked up the slips of paper on the ground. Customer receipts. No bank slips. Great. I was going to have to go in. Holding onto the frame of the door, I hiked one leg into the dumpster then the other. The smell was worse standing inside. My feet squished on something. I shuddered.
What was I going to do with the paper I looked at? I should’ve devised a more thorough plan than dig through the dumpster. I dropped the slips of paper onto the ground, vowing I’d pick them up after I was done looking. More receipts. I checked a couple of the dates. The slips were from yesterday, so I shouldn’t have to dig too far down to find the potential evidence.
I stepped on something hard. It was about the size of the board I used for the Santa lists. Had Rachel thrown out the nice list or Garret? Cassie would’ve brought it to me if Rachel no longer wanted it.
Carefully, I reached down and brought out the board. It was a sign I made. Coffee grounds and shredded paper were on it. I was a little sad that my hard work went into the trash. If Rachel hadn’t wanted it, she could’ve returned it to me or passed it on. A bright color piece of fabric was underneath a trash bag.
Shaking the board, I reached for the fabric and pulled it out. The slips of paper fell off the board. Once the fabric was in my hand, I recognized it. It was Sarah’s scarf. My gaze went from the scarf to the board. It was a sign I had made—the naughty list. And instead of Jenna’s name on the bottom, it was now Eric Wilcox.
&
nbsp; Fifteen
Why was Eric’s name now on the sign? Was he in danger? He threatened Cassie, why should you care? I was a little ashamed by my thought, but also agreed with it. Why should I worry about Eric’s safety? He wasn’t showing concern for anyone else. If Eric had been the one to assault me and steal the sign, he might have changed it and threw it away, hoping someone would find it and make people think he was in danger. Or that someone killed Jenna as a way to get even with him.
But, if that was the motive, what had Eric done to upset someone? The man did have a bad habit of drinking and driving, though he seemed to be careful enough not to ever get arrested for it. I knew it was a source of frustration for the officers in Season’s Greetings. They knew about it but could never catch him in the act. Had someone finally gotten fed up with the lack of justice and decided to get rid of Jenna who covered for her husband and now planned on taking out Eric?
You’re stretching there, Merry. I had to agree with myself. The simple answer was usually the correct one. Eric was trying to divert attention from himself being the killer by portraying himself as a potential victim. I examined the sign. The “E” and “i” in Eric’s name overlapped tiny pieces of stickers. Someone had removed Jenna’s name and added his.
There were footsteps in the alley, heading toward the dumpster. A shadow grew closer. My heart hammered. The person wasn’t making a sound. I was sure they were able to see me. I hadn’t been trying to hide myself or the mess I was creating right outside the dumpster. What if it was the person who altered the sign?
I remained still, holding my breath and hoping whoever was in the alley left.
The steps grew closer. I raised the board over my head, the only weapon I had to protect myself.
Officer Orville Martin looked in the dumpster.
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