Jingle Bells and Deadly Smells

by Amber Crewes

  Meghan cringed. She knew her mother was prying in order to persuade Meghan to leave Sandy Bay, and she wished Kirsty would stop discussing the deceased homeless man.

  “It’s terribly sad,” Kirsty lamented as Rebecca listened with raised eyebrows. “His name was Roger Williams, and he used to be quite the successful Sandy Bay resident. He was a business owner, and from what I hear, an avid volunteer in the community.”

  Rebecca ran a hand through her blonde hair. “How did his life spiral out of control?”

  Meghan gasped. “Mother! That’s so rude.”

  “What?” Rebecca asked. “I’m just asking. Obviously something had to have gone wrong to have a successful businessman lose everything and end up on the streets.”

  Kirsty bobbed her head up and down. “From what I’ve been told, Roger’s life took a tumble; he went through a nasty divorce, and that just sent him barrelling downhill. Roger became paranoid and crazy, and he went in and out of mental hospitals for years. His poor ex-wife finally took his children and left town. Roger then ran out of money, and a few years ago, he was in jail for robbing a grocery store. The authorities determined he was only stealing food and they let him out after a few nights. From what I’ve been told, he went back to the mental hospital, was given the proper medication, and then, he had a good few years.”

  “Then what happened?” Meghan asked, caught up in the story.

  “He was given a free apartment to live in, as well as a part-time job,” Kirsty explained. “But then, it all went downhill again, and he spiraled out of control. Word on the street is that he finally got help a few months ago, which is the only reason why we could have considered him for the part of Santa. He had a social worker, a therapist, and a case manager, and he was finally doing well.”

  “And now, he’s dead,” Meghan whispered sadly.

  “He’s gone, and we’ll have to use our second-choice Santa,” Kirsty said in disgust. “Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” she said, seeing Meghan’s look of horror. “It’s just that Roger was so wonderful, and I thought he would do a great job.”

  “I’ve been auditioning for forty-seven years, and I’ve never been selected.”

  The three women turned to see Mrs. Sally Sheridan hobbling toward them on her cane. Mrs. Sheridan was an elderly woman who had previously loathed Meghan, but after Meghan had come to Mrs. Sheridan’s side during a town protest, the pair had become friendly. Mrs. Sheridan was still known for being fussy and hard to please, but Meghan’s heart was softening toward the old woman.

  “Mrs. Sheridan,” Kirsty greeted Mrs. Sheridan as she maneuvered her way to the table. “It’s lovely to see you.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Mrs. Sheridan grumbled. “I heard you three talking about the Santa auditions. I’ve been auditioning for ears, and I feel like I’ve never been given a fair shot.”

  Kirsty pursed her lips. “The role is for Santa Clause,” she explained patiently to Mrs. Sheridan. “Santa Clause is a man, Mrs. Sheridan, and you are not a man.”

  Mrs. Sheridan glared at Kirsty. “That just doesn’t seem very progressive of you,” she argued. “I’m sure my Santa voice is better than any man’s, and I sure have a big belly for the kids to sit on. Just look at it.”

  Rebecca gasped as Mrs. Sheridan stroked her large, overweight belly. Meghan and Kirsty were used to Mrs. Sheridan’s occasional crass remarks, but prim, proper Rebecca Truman did not know how to handle Sally Sheridan.

  “Look,” Kirsty said to Mrs. Sheridan. “I’m sorry you haven’t been selected. I truly appreciate your eagerness to participate and make the children happy as Santa.”

  Mrs. Sheridan rolled her eyes. “I don’t care about the children,” she explained to Kirsty. “I care about the money, as well as gaining exposure as an actress. I was born for the stage, Kirsty.”

  Kirsty sighed. “You are the most dramatic woman in town,” she muttered.

  “What?” Mrs. Sheridan roared. “Do I need to turn up my hearing aid?”

  Kirsty slapped a smile back on her face. “No,” she said gently. “Just keep trying out each year, Mrs. Sheridan! You never know what can happen.”

  Mrs. Sheridan grumbled as she hobbled out of the tea shop. Kirsty looked to Rebecca. “She is an odd duck,” Kirsty said apologetically to Meghan’s mother. “But it isn’t just her; others have gotten bent out of shape because of the silly Santa competition.”

  Meghan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  Kirsty shook her head. “We get so many complaints during the round where we make cuts,” she explained to Meghan and Rebecca. “When we send out the notices to tell people that they didn’t make it to the next round, they get so angry. We’ve gotten threats before! It’s wild. People would kill for the role of Santa.”

  Meghan bit her bottom lip. “Kill for the role of Santa, huh? I’m sure it’s fun to play Santa, but I’m sure that twenty-five thousand dollar prize attached is something people would be a little more inclined to kill for. I wonder if that had anything to do with Roger’s death. You said that he was known to be a top finalist?”

  Kirsty nodded. “I hadn’t even thought that the contest could be connected to his death,” she said to Meghan. “Oh my. How terrible to think of.”

  Rebecca narrowed her eyes at her daughter. “This charming little town seems a little darker after hearing this, Meghan. I’m just not quite sure how I feel about you staying in Sandy Bay, especially after this information. I think it’s time you come home to Texas, and I don’t want to hear another peep of an argument about it!”

  7

  The next morning, Meghan was pleasantly surprised to find Jack at her doorstep before the bakery opened. She wasn’t expecting him, and as she peered out the window to see him smiling back at her, she hoped that her messy hair and sleepy eyes wouldn’t dissuade him from giving her a good morning kiss.

  “Hey there, handsome,” Meghan cheerfully greeted her boyfriend as she unlocked the doors. “This is a surprise.”

  Jack leaned down to kiss Meghan softly on the lips. Meghan felt a shiver run up her spine; she and Jack had been dating for several months now, but it still felt magical when he kissed her.

  “To what do I owe this pleasure?” Meghan playfully asked as Jack pulled away. “Would you like some breakfast? It’s well before our opening time, but you know I would happily whip something up for you.”

  Jack shook his head. “I just got off my night shift,” he told Meghan as she noticed the dark bags under his eyes. “There’s been a break in the case; we have a few suspects, but a new addition to the suspect list has me shaken, Meghan.”

  Meghan’s dark eyes widened. “Who is it?”

  Jack sighed. “Mr. Luciano is on the list,” he informed Meghan. “The police think that maybe he was just tired of all of the homeless folks outside of the restaurant. You heard how upset he was that day we had dinner with your folks.”

  Meghan gasped. Mr. Luciano had always been kind to her, and she could hardly believe that he was an official suspect. “Are you sure? Do they know how Roger died, yet?”

  Jack frowned. “That was the other disturbing news of my night shift,” he muttered. “Roger died from something he ate; how easy it would have been for Roberto to throw out some food for those people to gobble up, and now...someone is dead.”

  Meghan bit her lip. She recalled the conversation she and her mother had had with Kirsty the day before, and she wagged her finger in protest. “I don’t know, Jack,” Meghan said. “It just seems too crazy. Mr. Luciano didn’t want his restaurant to be plagued with crowds of homeless people out front, but I don’t seem him killing someone. What about one of Roger’s friends? The group of people there looked pretty rough; what if another homeless person killed him?”

  Jack shrugged. “I brought that up to Chief Nunan,” he murmured. “You said yourself when we spoke last night on the phone that Roger was set to win that department store gig; perhaps someone was angry about it and killed him.”

  Megh
an nodded. “That’s what I think. I think rumor was that Roger was going to win the role as Santa, as well as the money, and some sore loser decided to take away the opportunity permanently.”

  “I floated that idea to the Chief,” Jack breathed. “But she wouldn’t hear it; she is fixated on Roberto right now. Anyway, I wanted to let you know the news. I need to head home and get some sleep.”

  Meghan turned on her heel and dashed to the kitchen, returning with a large disposable cup filled with steaming coffee. “For you,” she announced as she presented the coffee to Jack. “A large caramel macchiato made with my special homemade whipped cream.”

  Jack accepted the cup and bent down to kiss Meghan on the forehead. “You are an angel,” he told his girlfriend. “Thank you for taking such good care of me.”

  Meghan reached out to give Jack a playful swat on the bottom. “Now get out of here,” she ordered Jack with a smile on her face. “You need some sleep, Mister!”

  “That isn’t your color, Meghan. Didn’t you listen earlier when I told you that?” Rebecca chided as Meghan stepped out of the dressing room at Spark.

  Jackie nodded in agreement. “I think she’s right,” she told Meghan. “That bright orange just doesn’t work with your hair.”

  Meghan politely smiled at her mother and friend, but as she retreated to the dressing room, she scowled. She had been convinced by her mother to go shopping for the afternoon, and while she had at first thought that bringing Jackie along would soften her mother’s harsh comments, she was incorrect; Rebecca and Jackie had bonded instantly, and they were constantly teaming up against Meghan.

  “I can’t believe she chose that sweater,” Meghan heard her mother murmur to Jackie. “She and I are just built so differently, and she doesn’t seem to understand that with those...womanly looks, she needs to gravitate toward the neutrals.”

  “I agree,” Jackie told Rebecca and Meghan’s stomach churned. “Meghan has such a pretty face, but you cannot wear orange with those curves. I wish she would hit the gym with me every once in awhile. I ask her, Rebecca, but she usually turns me down.”

  Meghan marched out of the dressing room in her black camisole, her arms crossed across her chest. “I can hear every word you two are saying,” she told her mother and Jackie as she shivered, the hair on her arms sticking straight up. “Mama, I wish I were itty bitty like you, but I am not. I know I’m not the most stylish, but I try.”

  Rebecca rolled her eyes. “Don’t do a pity party,” she said dismissively to Meghan. “Why don’t you just pack up your things and move home to Texas? I can help you open a bakery there, and I can hire a stylist for you. You’ll be the talk of the town, Meghan! You could blow every little cafe and bakery out of the water. Your father and I could help you turn Truly Sweet into a franchise!”

  Meghan balled her hands into fists. “I don’t want to go home to Texas,” she declared as Jackie walked away to browse a rack of sweaters on the other side of the store. “Mama, I’ve told you repeatedly that I am happy here. Why isn’t that enough for you?”

  Rebecca sighed. “Someday you will understand,” she said as Meghan stared at her. “When you have a daughter, you will only want the best for her.”

  “The best for her is Sandy Bay, you silly goose.”

  Meghan and Rebecca turned to find Sally Sheridan hobbling toward them, her cane scraping the trendy chestnut-colored wooden floor of the boutique as she wandered closer. “Meghan belongs in Sandy Bay. She lives here. She loves it here. We love her here. She turned that bakery of hers into a success, she’s dating the best boy in town, and she makes everyone here happy with her big smile and good spirits.”

  Tears welled in Meghan’s eyes. She and Mrs. Sheridan had grown closer over the last few months, but Meghan never dreamed that Mrs. Sheridan would have such lovely things to say about her. She wiped a tear from her cheeks and walked to Mrs. Sheridan with outstretched arms, eager to embrace the old woman.

  “What are you doing?” Mrs. Sheridan asked in alarm as Meghan drew closer. She waved her cane at Meghan’s head. “Back up, missy.”

  “I just want to give you a little hug,” Meghan laughed as Mrs. Sheridan stared at her. “Your words touched my heart, and I wanted to give you a squeeze to thank you.”

  Mrs. Sheridan shook her head. “No, no, no,” she said, firmly planting her cane in front of her. “I’m not in a sappy mood today. I’m just telling the truth. The truth is that you belong here, and your mother needs to get off of her high horse and let you be about it. You hear me?”

  Rebecca looked startled to be addressed in such a brusque manner, but before she could respond, Mrs. Sheridan began to hobble away. Before she walked outside, she turned back around to shout, “even though Meghan’s treats gave me diarrhea once, they are still the best in the Pacific Northwest.”

  Meghan’s face burned with shame; she knew that her treats had never made anyone sick, and she was embarrassed that Mrs. Sheridan had shouted that across the fashionable boutique.

  “One last thing,” Mrs. Sheridan called out. “Meghan, I might be returning some of your cranberry bars later this week. Just wanted to let you know.”

  Meghan watched as Mrs. Sheridan exited the store, and then leaned down to settle into an overstuffed purple armchair. “That was a lot,” she sighed to her mother. “I’m sorry she was a bit rude.”

  Rebecca looked down at her high heels and then looked back at Meghan, a look of shame on her face. “I’m sorry,” Rebecca whispered to Meghan. “You and I have always been so different, and I have always pushed you too hard. I’m sorry I’ve been pushing for you to come home. To be honest, Meghan, your Daddy and I miss you. We would like you to be nearby. You’re missing so much, Meghan; your nieces and nephews are getting older, your brothers and sisters and growing up, and we just want you to be a bigger part of our lives.”

  Meghan pursed her lips. “I have to live my own life, Mama,” she said softly as a black tear of mascara raced down Rebecca’s cheek.

  “I know,” Rebecca replied. “And it seems like you live a good life here. Everyone has such lovely things to say about you. You’ve really made an impression here, Meghan.”

  Meghan smiled. “I love it here.”

  “I can see why,” Rebecca said. “The people are kind, the shops and restaurants are adorable, and the sight of the ocean nearby is just good for the soul.”

  Meghan sighed. “I wish you and Daddy could just live here part of the time,” she lamented.

  Rebecca stared into her eyes. “What if we could?”

  Meghan raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean? Texas is so far away.”

  Rebecca laughed. “In this age, nothing is far away; we have endless airline miles from Daddy’s business, and we have been thinking about investing in some property. What if we added a place in Sandy Bay to our list?”

  Meghan jumped up and down in excitement. “Really? That would be wonderful. I love you two so much and would love to see more of you. I know just the person who could help you out! My friend, Kayley, is the best real estate agent around. If you are serious about a place here, she will go all out to help.”

  Rebecca leaned forward and kissed her daughter on the forehead, leaving a smudge of pale pink lipstick on Meghan’s skin. “I am serious,” she whispered as she hugged her daughter. “I am serious about moving to Sandy Bay.”

  8

  “This is a cute office,” Rebecca gushed as Meghan lead her inside of the local real estate company. “I just love that waterfall in the corner; the aesthetics here are fantastic.”

  “Thank you, I designed the place myself,” said Kayley Kane, one of Sandy Bay’s best agents. She effortlessly strutted across the room, her tall high heels making her legs look like skyscrapers. Kayley and Meghan were friendly; they had been thrown together for various events in town, and today, as Meghan imagined her mother and father buying a second house in Sandy Bay, Meghan was elated to see her real estate agent friend.

  “Kayley, good to s
ee you,” Meghan said as she gestured her mother to sit beside her in the expensive chairs facing Kayley’s desk. “This is my mother, Rebecca Truman. Mama and my Daddy are looking to maybe find a second home in Sandy Bay.”

  Meghan watched as Kayley’s eyes scanned Rebecca’s outfit and purse; Kayley was known for having expensive taste, and Meghan was sure she would recognize Rebecca’s designer sweater and matching handbag. Kayley leaned forward in her chair and clasped her red-finger nailed hands in front of her nose. “I would be honored to help Mr. and Mrs. Truman in their search. Mrs. Truman, what exactly is your budget for a second home in Sandy Bay?”

  Rebecca laughed. “Surely it isn’t proper to first discuss finances,” she lightheartedly chastised Kayley. “Let’s just say Meghan’s Daddy and I have enough to be comfortable here.”