by Louise Lynn
Her mother's voice shook a touch at that, and Hazel felt a lead weight fill her stomach. "Did you guys try to help her?"
Her father nodded. "We would have. The rumor traveled so fast though, this was in the course of a day. By the time we learned everything, it was too late."
"Too late how?"
Her mother drew in a shaky breath. "It only took a matter of hours for Carol to completely destroy this poor young girl's life. She was kicked out of her home, the entire town was rampant with rumors about her and her unborn child. I'm sure she never felt more alone in her entire life. She killed herself. Hung herself from the rafters in the church. After that, her parents refused to even pay for her burial, and an anonymous donor did it all. Someone still leaves red roses on her grave each year around this time.”
Hazel stared at her plate of food and understood why they’d asked her to eat it all before they told her. A sudden surge of anger toward Carol Collins filled her. No wonder her mother despised the woman. Driving a young girl to suicide was unforgivable, even if she hadn't slung the noose around her neck or made the decision for her. She'd obviously done the damage that led Hilde there.
"That is awful. So wait–-she hung herself around Christmas? Carol Collins was strangled to death with Christmas lights."
Her mother dabbed her eyes and dug into her food. “Yes. Christmas Eve 1969. And it serves Carol right if you ask me. It's a bit of poetic justice, isn't that what they call it?"
Hazel nodded absently. It was poetic justice. "Did John have anything to do with it? Or Albert Stone and Marley Sinclair? When I spoke with Mr. Stone yesterday, he heavily implied that the three of them had done something awful, but he never said what it was."
Her father reached across the table and patted her hand. "They weren't spreading the rumors, I can tell you that much. But you’d have to ask Mr. Stone. I don't know him particularly well. Maureen?"
She shook her head. "All I know is that ever since Albert became friends with Marley Sinclair, he changed from a reasonably nice man to what he is today,” she said and nibbled on a piece of bacon.
Hazel didn't have time for nibbling, so she took an oversized bite. "But he wasn’t involved with Hilde?"
Both her parents shrugged, and Hazel let that line of questioning die.
They finished their breakfast, and as she sucked down her coffee, another thought occurred to her, the secret Carol Collins had been keeping for reasons yet unknown. "You know, Justin Collins is already back in town. Carol lied to Colton and I about it the other day. Why would she do that?" she said as she rinsed her plate.
Her mother nearly choked on her tea, and her father patted her back as she coughed. "Justin Collins is back in town? Well, that's who did it!”
"Maureen, you don't know that for sure," her husband said, though when Hazel turned to look at them, he didn't look at all convinced of his words.
"Do you guys have some weird secret about Justin too?"
“Oh, I don't think it's a secret that Justin and Marjorie don't really want to have much to do with their parents. They were both miserable and fought the entire time those two were children, and both of them hardly ever come around Cedar Valley, in case you didn't notice. Well, you haven't lived here for several years, so you wouldn’t," her mother said as an afterthought.
Her father smiled and gathered up the rest of the plates. "Justin was sort of an angry teen. Didn't he get sent away to a reformatory school?"
Maureen’s eyes brightened. "Yes, Hazy, you were a senior at the time, I think. Isn’t he Esther's age?"
Hazel shrugged, because she honestly couldn't remember. "Maybe. I hardly remember the guy. Although, he did get in trouble for starting fights. And I do remember his dad picking him up from school once and yelling at him. But that's not really enough to accuse him of murder. Not something that happened twenty years ago."
"As Tess would say: ‘sometimes the past doesn't die easily. Its ghosts still wander this town, and their anger has had years to fester.’"
Hazel frowned at her mother. "It didn't rhyme, so I'm not sure Tess would've said that."
Her mother gave her a sunny smile. "It was the gist that mattered. But the fact that Carol lied to the sheriff about her son being in town is rather odd, don't you think? Could she have been trying to protect him from something?"
Carol Collins trying to protect her son from a murder rap. Hazel wasn't sure about that, but then, the woman probably would've been concerned with what it would've done to her reputation. That's one of the reasons she was so angry about John being murdered. The sort of damage it did to her, and not the fact that her husband, separated or not, was dead.
“You'd better be careful talking to him. Don't go alone," her father said and started loading the dishwasher.
Hazel nodded, and fixed Anthony Ray in his harness. "Colton will be interested in this, no doubt. Will you guys lock up?"
Her mother twirled an abnormally long and multicolored scarf around her neck. “I have a booth to get to, young lady."
Her father smiled at both of them. "I will. Though I might take a peek in Hazy's darkroom first. I have some prints I’d like to develop.”
Hazel grinned at her dad. "Sure thing, but what's wrong with your darkroom?"
He smiled sheepishly, and her mother rolled her eyes. "He's got it filled up with prints of his own, and there's no room for anything in there. He claims they’re still drying, but I have my doubts."
Hazel chuckled and decided not to explain to her mother that they had a machine that dried print photos for them. He just disliked taking them down while he made artistic decisions about which ones he liked and which ones he didn’t.
“Okay, just don’t fill up my darkroom too.”
Her father winked, and she got ready to face another snowy day, and, hopefully, find a killer.
Chapter 15
As Hazel drove toward the Christmas Fair, she realized there was one major problem with her plan to question Justin Collins.
She didn't know where to find him.
She pulled to a stop outside of her studio and was about to call Colton to let him in on the new information when she noticed the lights in A Christmas Carol were on.
Maybe some of the deputies had gone there to look for clues, she thought. Well, there’s only one way to find out.
With Anthony Ray trailing in front of her, Hazel approached the door. The sign in the window was turned to closed, but the door pushed open easily enough.
That familiar jingle rung her arrival, and she glanced around the shop. However, instead of Deputy Simmons, Justin Collins stood there, looking lost.
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I thought one of the deputies might be in here,” she said and tugged Anthony Ray away from his trot toward one of the low hanging ornaments.
Justin blinked at her. "Wait, Hazel Hart? Wow. Look at you. It's been a long time," he said and stepped toward her.
Hazel nodded dumbly, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to stumble backwards. He didn't currently have a weapon, but still. "Yeah. I'd say. Last I heard you were in reformatory school.”
Justin chuckled and smoothed his hand over his neatly cut hair. She expected him to be wearing a pair of baggy jeans and a T-shirt, the way she’d last seen him in high school. Instead, he really had grown up. He wore a navy suit and a red tie with a blindingly white dress shirt. His eyes were bluer than Hazel remembered, and while he did look like his parents, he’d gotten the best features of both. In any other situation, she would've considered him handsome. The fact that he might be a killer dulled that thought. "I did, and honestly, it’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I’d hate to see where I would've turned out if I hadn't gone to reform school."
"And how exactly did you turn out?" Hazel asked and hoped he didn't say he’d turned into a patricidal and matricidal maniac. Though, even if he were, she doubted he’d confess it to her right then.
"Right, our families haven't always been on the best of terms, but
I was sure my mom would brag to your mom about it, considering."
Hazel shrugged. If Carol Collins had, Hazel's own mother never shared the news with her. “Well, whatever it is you look like you're doing well for yourself. Where do you live now?"
"New York, actually. I work on Wall Street. Maybe that's why my mom wasn't bragging too much about it. When Marjorie went to med school, I know she was sharing that information with just about everyone. And then she got married and never comes home anymore," he said and chuckled again.
For someone who’d lost both of their parents in a horrific manner, Hazel couldn't understand what he found so funny. "I haven't seen her in ages. She’s spending the holiday in Barbados, I guess? Your mom said so beforehand. Which reminds me, I'm so sorry about your parents. It must be a terrible shock."
She thought suddenly of the promise she’d made to her father, and how she was explicitly breaking it by standing in the Christmas shop with Justin Collins all alone. But what was she supposed to do, make a run for it? There was no way he’d try to kill her in broad daylight, was there?
She hoped not.
He sucked in a breath and let it out through his nose. His hands fidgeted and he pushed them into his pockets. "Yeah. That’s not how I expected my first Christmas home in years to turn out. I couldn't believe it when mom said what happened, and now she's gone too. I came in here today thinking it was just a bad dream. That she’d be opening the shop like normal, but she wasn't," he said and his eyes got that lost glaze to them once again.
Hazel glanced around and saw her mother's fruitcake sitting on the counter. It looked like Carol had unwrapped it and tried to have a piece before she’d gone to the play. Hazel was thankful she hadn’t managed to cut through it, or the woman might've choked to death.
"Yeah, I can imagine. Well, I assure you the sheriff is doing everything he can to find the culprit. Have you spoken with him yet? He’d probably like to get your statement,” she said.
Justin shook his head. "I was planning on doing that today. Or I figured they'd find me. Look, she put out that fruitcake and didn't even get to eat it. She probably had to run off that night and never made it back here because–"
Hazel nodded. Because someone caught her before she could, strangled her to death, and then shoved her body in the town's Christmas tree. Instead of saying that, however, Hazel just frowned. "Yeah. Terrible. That fruitcake going to waste. Do you want me to clean it up?" she said and moved toward the counter.
Justin shrugged, and his shoulders slumped. "Sure. I don't like fruitcake anyway, so I was gonna toss it, but you can have it if you want. Is that a terrible thing to say?"
After all the terrible things Carol said about her own husband, Justin Collins giving away his dead mother's fruitcake was nothing. "Not at all. Had you spoken much to your parents lately? Everyone in town is so shocked someone would do that to them. It's not as if they had a lot of enemies."
Hazel shoved the fruitcake back into its plastic wrapper and glanced around the shop. Only the lights in the front were on. The back of the shop was draped in heavy shadows. Since most of the trees weren't lit, it gave the place a drab feel.
Justin’s brows danced. "Nobody with anything against my parents? Had you met my parents? They had plenty of enemies in this town."
For a moment, Hazel was afraid he was going to mention her mother, but he didn't. "Like who?"
Justin plucked a porcelain angel from one of the trees on display and rubbed his finger over the smooth surface. "What's the guy’s name who plays Scrooge every year? Albert Stone? Him. My dad hated him and he hated my dad. No idea why, because they never really said anything to me. Though my mom always said that he lost a bunch of money. I think that's why she didn't want me working on Wall Street. She thought I was gonna turn out like him. Always thought I was just like him," he said the last bit under his breath and squeezed the porcelain angel. It cracked, its wing breaking and falling to the floor. Hazel stared at it, and Justin dropped the rest of it. "Oops. At least I don't have to buy it. You know if mom were alive, that's what she would've made me do. And it was probably over twenty dollars, knowing her. I always hated this place, and I'm pretty sure it's mine now. She said she wanted me to take over if anything happened to them, and I'd rather burn it to the ground," he said.
Hazel's blood felt like ice.
She wouldn't want to take over her own mother’s shop either, but she would never dream of burning Esoterica to the ground. Even if they saw things differently, she could at least understand where her mom was coming from on most things. Not all, but most.
"And I guess Marjorie wouldn't want to take it over either?"
Justin let out a snort of laughter. "Yeah, I'm sure she wants to give up her very lucrative practice in Palm Beach to move back to a nowhere town and run a Christmas shop. Truth is, mom should've retired years ago and just let this place go. But she was a stubborn old biddy."
Anthony Ray went as far as the leash would allow him and sniffed at the fallen angel. He reached a black fluffy paw out and hit it, as if it might flutter up and attack him.
"So you really think Albert Stone could have done this? Why would he want to hurt your parents? Did you have any idea?"
Justin shook his head and spun on his heel. "Honestly, no. I don't really know the guy. I mean, I haven't spoken to him since I fell off his boat and broke my leg as a kid. He seemed sorry about that though.”
So, he remembered that. "I heard your mom wasn't too nice about the whole incident."
His striking blue eyes met Hazel's. They were paler than Colton's, more of a sky blue than the deep glacial blue of Lake Celeste. "I honestly don't remember her reaction. I was a kid. I haven’t thought of that day in years. And I don’t remember it as the day I broke my leg, but as the last time I got to spend the day with Gus, my best friend back then. He, uh, died in that big fire the next week. His whole family did.”
“Fire? Oh, wait. That apartment complex that burned down? Yeah, I remember that. I remember Gus too, just a little. I didn’t know you were friends. Sorry.”
Justin shrugged. “We were kids. It doesn’t matter now.”
Hazel wondered if he was lying about that, but she decided not to push it. She had something more important to learn. "So, when did you get back into town?"
His eyes darted away. "Yesterday afternoon right before she… I didn't even get to see her actually. I only talked to her on the phone. I was tired after my flight and didn't feel like going to the play. I was just gonna relax in my room at the Lodge. This morning I got word what happened.”
Now, Hazel knew he was lying about that. Her phone was in her pocket, so she slipped her fingers around the comforting shape, ready to dial help if she needed to. "The afternoon before Carol was killed? Are you sure that's what you want to go with?"
His eyes snapped to hers, and he drew himself up to his full height. She didn't remember Justin Collins being taller than her, but he was now. "What do you mean? Are you accusing me of something?"
"I am, but possibly not what you think. You were here the day your dad died. You broke apart a fight between your mom and your dad in the community center. Or are you going to deny that?"
He let out a breath like a deflating balloon and his eyes darted from left to right . They finally landed on the broken angel at his feet. "Fine. I was back in town a few days early, but it's not what you think. I was helping my dad move. My parents were separated and he was getting a place at one of those crummy apartments, the same ones that were built after the first set burned down. I was trying to get him to move with me to New York, but he wouldn't have it. He said he needed fresh mountain air, and to try to convince my mom to change her mind. I knew she wasn't gonna do it. That fight was like a hundred other fights they’d had. I mean, if you think someone killed my dad, it was probably her."
Hazel blinked at that. "Wait, you actually think your mom killed your dad like that?"
He shrugged and threw his hands in the air. "I don'
t know. Do you think I would've done something like that? Honestly, what would my motive be? I didn't have anything against either of my parents. My mom was leaving me this place, which was nice for her."
Hazel nodded slowly. “But you didn’t want it. And you’re not resentful for how they treated you as a kid?"
Justin looked at his shoes. "Maybe I deserved it. Maybe I was a crummy kid. But I turned out okay, I think. I'm not a killer. Like I said, if you want to find who did this, it's probably someone who had a vendetta against them."
First a reckoning and now a vendetta? "Can you think of anything your parents did to deserve it? Not that anyone deserves to get killed but–"
His eyes met hers again, bright and clear as a sunny winter day. "I can't think of anybody but Albert Stone offhand, but I also can't think of anybody that's all that torn up about it. Do you see people putting flowers in Santa's Village? Do you see a pile of roses sitting outside the shop? I think most of Cedar Valley is happy they’re gone, because they weren’t very likable. Charles Benson took over Santa right after dad died, and everyone is pleased as punch to have him. My dad didn't like doing it, but he did it for my mom because he thought it would appease her somehow. It obviously didn't work.”
That was true. She hadn’t seen anyone shed a tear for either of the Collins. In fact, the most emotion she’d noticed from anyone was fear from Albert Stone. It looked like more people disliked them than just Hazel’s own mother and Mr. Stone.
Which reminded her of something else.
"Do you know anything about a girl named Hilde? Did your mother ever mention her?"
Justin's face pinched as he thought. "You know, the name sounds kind of familiar. But my mom didn't say it. It was just the other day during that fight. One of those old guys said it, Albert Stone, I think. Yeah, I'm sure now because it was such a weird name. He said: ‘I’ve forgiven you for Hilde, so you should be able to forgive John for what he did.’ Then my mom said they were all cowards, which is what she called everyone.”