by Louise Lynn
Albert Stone didn't answer. He merely stared at his hands.
With a sigh, she tugged her phone out of her pocket and texted Farrah that she'd found Scrooge. "Come on, you really should get back to the Christmas Fair. You'll feel better around more people. And I promise the ghost of your past isn’t going to kill you, but if you feel that guilty about it, maybe you should give some of that money to charity," she said and stood, offering her hand.
Albert Stone reached for it and stood. "Perhaps you're right. But I can't help but feel like something is watching from the shadows, something that wants me dead."
Hazel didn't know what to say to that, so she quickly patted his arm and turned to fetch Anthony Ray.
She found him within the study, once again, sitting on the desk as if he owned it, and his tail swished over the broken photo she'd seen that first day. Younger versions of Marley Sinclair and Charles Benson beamed from behind the broken glass, and the glint in both men's eyes sent a shiver up her spine.
They were the cold hard eyes of men who would do anything to succeed, and she had thought of Albert Stone the same way, but perhaps he wasn't. Perhaps he really was more like Scrooge than he'd let on, with a soft center buried beneath all those hard layers.
"Come on, you get to go terrorize the elves again. Think how fun that is," she told her cat and headed back downstairs.
Albert Stone was quiet on the ride back to the Christmas Fair.
Hazel escorted him into the community center, partially to make sure he got there safely, and partially for his own peace of mind.
Farrah rushed up, gave him one good hard look and her expression softened. "Let's get you into makeup, Mr. Scrooge,” she said.
From the corner of her eye, Hazel noticed a dark shape in a tattered black robe float outside.
"So, you found a replacement Ghost of Christmas Future?" she asked.
Farah's brows drew together. "No, I haven't. Charles showed up in Santa's Village a few minutes ago, and my replacement has to play his part today, which means no Ghost of Christmas Future. Unless you want to do it?" she said and sounded hopeful.
Hazel shook her head and looked toward the exit. The door swung shut, but she could've sworn… "Where's the costume?"
Farrah dropped Albert stone off in the makeup room and pointed at the dressing rooms just beyond it. “Should be in there. Unless the kids were messing with it again.”
Hazel glanced around the hanging racks, but she didn't see the tattered black robe anywhere. "Are you sure?"
Farrah stepped in and gave it her own once over, then let out a frustrated grumble. "Okay, where did it go?"
Hazel's blood went cold. "I don't know, but I think whoever has it is up to no good."
Chapter 18
Hazel moved as quickly as she could through the Christmas Fair, eyes searching for the black tattered robes of the Ghost of Christmas Future and whoever wore the costume presently.
She couldn't run due to the snow and ice on the walks. Though they'd been shoveled, there was no saying they weren’t still slippery enough to fall.
Maureen's eyes brightened as Hazel passed the Esoterica stall, and she reached out. "Oh good. Did you find Justin, dear?"
Hazel nodded absently and glanced around. “Have you seen the Ghost of Christmas Future wandering around?"
Her mother shrugged, but Tess nodded and pointed. "The trail of death leads to the village,” she murmured in that dreamy far-off voice of hers.
"See? She doesn't always talk in rhymes dear,” Maureen said with a grin.
Hazel ignored that and headed toward Santa's Village, her heart pounding in her ears.
Ruth and a group of her fellow urchins ran by, nearly toppling over both Hazel and Anthony Ray.
“Kitty, kitty, kitty!” the children yelled, and Ruthie bent down to pet him.
"He only wants you to pet him if he says it's okay," Ruth told the rest of the children.
Hazel smiled. "Have you seen a guy in a big black robe walking around?"
The kids nodded and pointed in the same direction that Tess had indicated.
Who was in the costume and why were they headed to Santa's Village?
She had a feeling she wouldn't like the answer.
Marcus trailed after the children, and Violet and Milo took up their wake. She smiled quickly at each of them, and Marcus caught her arm. "You have that frantic look. Something wrong?" he asked and his dark brows drew together.
She wasn't sure how to say it. "I'm not quite certain. Do you know who took over playing the Ghost of Christmas Future after Charles Benson started being Santa?"
Marcus tapped his lips. "I thought it was one of the extras, but as I was getting into costume today there was a guy around our age putting the robes on.”
"You hadn't seen him before?" Hazel asked, her eyes widening.
Marcus shook his head. "I hadn't, but I thought he might've been Farrah’s friend. I didn't catch his name, but he was chatting with me about how the weather here was worse than New York. He had really pale blue eyes. I know that's probably not helpful.”
"Actually, it's more helpful than you know,” she said and hurried away.
Talking about New York and having pale blue eyes? Well, that wasn't proof, but it fit Justin Collins well enough.
What did he think he was doing?
Farrah hadn’t known he took the outfit, so she didn't think his reason for being there was altruistic. And he hadn't said anything about going to the Christmas Fair and stealing one of the costumes from the play earlier.
But why would he? He made a big deal about not having a motive to kill his parents, but maybe he did have one—one that Hazel hadn't thought of yet.
She neared the ski shop stall. She slowed and caught a whiff of a sharp acidic scent.
Paul and his new girlfriend, Kylie, stood over an open flame, one of those patio fire pits that had gotten so popular lately. Especially when campfires weren’t permitted in the summertime due to the fire danger. They had a pile of marshmallows close by, and were attracting plenty of attention from cold tourists.
Fire.
Of course. Justin Collins said his best friend was on the boat with him the day he broke his leg, and it was the last time they did anything together. He sounded sad when he said it.
And the reason his friend hadn't been able to do anything else with him since was because he’d died in the fires at the Sinclair apartment complex.
Hazel felt as if ice water had been poured over her head, and Anthony Ray tugged at his leash.
His friend had died in a fire that his parents had benefited from monetarily, and he was getting his revenge.
There, in the distance, she saw the black shape moving steadily toward Santa's Village. Charles Benson chuckled to the child sitting on his lap.
So Albert Stone was right.
This did have to do with the investment, but why was he going after Charles Benson?
Hazel didn't have time to figure it out.
Anthony Ray tugged again and broke free of her grasp.
"What's going on? Did he spot a squirrel?" Deputy Simmons said.
Hazel started from her rush and turned. Right. There were deputies all over the Christmas Fair. "We need to stop the Ghost of Christmas Future," she said and pointed.
Thankfully, Deputy Simmons didn't need her to explain, and he moved faster through the snow than she did.
The child on Santa's lap slipped off, and Charles Benson glanced up at the person wearing his costume, the long tattered black robes and the heavy hood that cast shadows over the wearer's face. "Did you want to ask for a Christmas present as well?" he said, though she noticed his voice faltered slightly.
The Ghost of Christmas Future shook his head. It leaned toward Charles and said something unintelligible. A moment later, Anthony Ray leapt between them.
One of the men shrieked, and the Ghost of Christmas Future stumbled back, falling in the snow. The hood slipped off his head.
Justin
Collins sat there, stunned, as Anthony Ray swatted Santa’s heavy black boot three times, and then turned to look at Hazel as if his job was complete.
Charles Benson stood up and pointed a finger at Justin Collins. "How dare you try to frighten me in front of these children.” He shook his head until his beard slipped askew.
Several of the children in line started to cry, and their parents wrapped them in their arms.
Justin gaped at everyone. "I don't know what you're talking about. Hazel, you have to believe me. I just came here because I got a text and–"
Hazel put her hands on her hips. "Because he was the next one on your list? After you killed your parents, you thought you'd go after Charles Benson. Only I'm not sure what he has to do with that investment."
Charles Benson’s eyes grew wide. "What? That makes a lot more sense. Is that why you said you wanted to speak with me alone just now?” he said and cast an angry glance at Justin.
Justin scowled and stood up, dusting the snow from the tattered robe. "I didn't hurt my parents. I don't even have a motive for it, which we've already discussed, Hazel," he said and glared in her direction.
Hazel frowned. "I thought that was true, but you gave a little bit too much away when you mentioned your best friend dying when you were kids. He died in the Sinclair apartment complex fire, and your parents benefited from that place being built. I'm guessing you didn't find out about it until relatively recently, which is why you decided to take your revenge now. Since you work on Wall Street, I’m sure they gave you access to their investment portfolio.”
“They did, but I don’t know what investment you’re talking about,” Justin said and pointed. “I came here to talk to Mr. Benson about selling my mother’s shop.”
“Dressed as the Ghost of Christmas Future?” Hazel said, raising a brow.
Justin Collins turned beet red. “I—I—this sounds crazy, but I got a message telling me to keep a low profile and to wear the costume. I thought I might find out something about my parent’s murder.”
He was right; it did sound crazy.
Crazy enough that Deputy Simmons whipped out his cuffs and started the process of reading Justin Collins his rights.
"Hey, you can't just arrest me based on her word!” Justin cried.
“She's right most of the time though," Deputy Simmons said and patted Justin’s shoulder.
Hazel was ready to call Sheriff Cross, but there was no need. After a few minutes of commotion, he popped up on his own, a frown on his face and his eyes wide with concern. "There you are. I was worried, and Justin Collins, I presume? Just the man I was looking for," he said, his voice a low grumble.
He didn't explain it to Hazel then, he only ushered Justin away and asked that the deputies calm the townsfolk down as best they could.
Hazel glanced at Charles Benson. The man stared at Justin Collins and Sheriff Cross, and for the first time ever he seemed shaken.
"It's okay, we found the culprit," Hazel said to him with a smile.
A sudden light brightened in Charles Benson's eyes, and he nodded. He smiled like he had in that photograph of him with Marley Sinclair. "It looks like you have. Merry Christmas, I hope it's your best yet," he said and sat down to resume his Santa duties.
Chapter 19
"I can't believe that Justin Collins guy is the one who did it," Violet said that evening. They'd all gathered at Esther's house to make Christmas cookies for the following day.
Hazel thought Violet should've been visiting her grandparents and little brother instead of hanging out with Esther, Hazel and Ruth, but she didn't say so. The girl probably had her reasons, and Hazel hoped she wasn't right about what those reasons were.
"What do you mean? Colton didn't get a confession, but he found physical evidence at the Lodge where Justin was staying. Same sort of candy canes used to kill John Collins, and the same kind of Christmas lights used to strangle Carol," Hazel said with a frown.
Violet pursed her lips and dipped her brush into the green frosting.
"Do we have to talk about murder all the time? Can we have one moment where we don't discuss it?” Esther said with no real force.
"Can I make a serial killer gingerbread man?" Ruth said with a crazed grin.
"See? Look what you're doing to my daughter?"
"Probably not the best idea, Ruthie, because you’re disturbing your mother. And would you like Violet and I to step outside and discuss this?" Hazel asked and smiled sweetly at her sister.
Esther scowled at both of them but didn't say anything more.
“So, why do you find it hard to believe?" Hazel asked. She wasn't about to treat Violet as if she didn't have any good ideas. Violet may have been young, but she wasn't stupid.
Violet chewed on her bottom lip as she covered the cookie she’d just frosted with rainbow sprinkles. "I saw him being nice to his dad the day John Collins was killed. I didn't know he was their son at the time, but I saw him walking his dad back to Santa’s Village, and they were talking and looked happy.”
Hazel nodded thoughtfully and frosted one of her own cookies. To her delight, Violet was much better at decorating cookies than Hazel herself, though no one's looked as good as Esther's. In contrast, Ruth’s work was a complete disaster, on par with Hazel's own.
"Nice is different than good," Ruth said sagely, and squeezed a line of red frosting on her gingerbread man.
Violet pouted but nodded nonetheless. "I know! And I can’t explain it. So maybe he did do it, I just don't know why if he was going to murder his own dad, he'd be nice to him beforehand."
She had a point, and Hazel wasn't sure how to describe the feeling she had either, that this had all come together too easily. Case solved, another child with an unsettling resentment against their parents.
She didn't have to think about it too long, however, because Esther quickly changed the subject. “You've got all your Christmas wrapping done, haven't you? Because if we’re having dinner with Colton's parents at mom and dad's tomorrow, you're not going to have time to do any last minute Christmas Eve wrapping," Esther said in that sisterly tone of voice.
Hazel nearly dropped the cookie she was working on, caught it in time, but accidentally snapped the head off the reindeer. Oops. Looks like she’d have to eat another one. "Right. Christmas wrapping. I’ve gotten it all taken care of,” she said and winced.
Esther eyed her. "You do not. Hazel Eleanor Hart, have you even finished your Christmas shopping yet?" She set her own cookie down gracefully, the head still attached.
Hazel gave her younger sister a hopeless grin. "I was going to, the first day of the Christmas Fair I had it all figured out, then you know what happened."
"Lots of people died, mommy, and Auntie Hazy had to solve it. But she can finish the Christmas shopping and wrapping now, besides the stuff Santa gives you, right?" Ruth said.
Hazel nodded. "First thing tomorrow morning, as soon as the Christmas Fair opens, I'll finish shopping, and wrap before Christmas Eve dinner. Promise."
Esther didn't look as if she believed her, and Violet gave a halfhearted smile to their banter, which was much less than she usually did.
Hazel had an idea what was bothering the girl, but she decided not to bring it up until the ride home.
That happened much sooner than usual, considering they were all tired, and Esther had a great deal of pre-Christmas baking to get done as well.
"I know you don't believe me about Justin Collins, and that's okay, I just wish this hadn't happened when my grandparents came to visit," Violet said as she stared out the window at the steadily falling snow.
Hazel sighed. "Yeah, it doesn't really give them the best look at our town, does it?"
Violet shook her head. "I love my grandparents, and I love my little brother so much. I missed him more than you can imagine. But I don't want to go back with them. I really hate it in Santa Rosa, and I love it here, but Uncle Colton…” Her voice trailed off and she hung her head. Her shoulders shook with sobs.
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Hazel wished she could've done more to comfort her but when driving in snowy conditions, she needed all of her attention on the road. "Did they say you have to go back? I mean, shouldn't it be up to you?"
Violet swiped the back of her hand over her nose. "Nobody said anything, which makes it even worse. But Simon—you should see him. He’s so happy. And why did Uncle Colton get a house with four bedrooms? He’s a bachelor, and yet he gets a house with a room for me, a room for Simon and even a spare one to use as an office for your stuff," she said and her voice broke.
Hazel stiffened and stared at the snow gently falling across her windshield. If she could've pulled over to the side of the road safely, she would have. "I'm sure Colton didn't get a house with four bedrooms for my sake, but he may have done it for you. I don't want to butt in where my opinion isn't needed or wanted, but are you absolutely sure he couldn't take Simon too?"
Violet’s lips twisted. "Uncle Colton doesn't want us. That was pretty clear after mom and dad died. The only reason he took me in is because I was having trouble at school, but it’s a new year so I should go back. That's what they all think."
Hazel shook her head. "It is not what they all think. They want you to be happy, Violet. If you guys talk about it, I'm sure you can work something out. Something that'll be good for everyone."
She pulled up to Colton's place a few minutes later, and the girl climbed out and ran to the house through the freshly fallen snow.
Hazel sat there for a moment and looked at the home that Colton had purchased. They'd already been dating when he bought it, and it was worlds better than the dingy one-bedroom apartment he’d started out in. Ironically enough, that had been one of Marley Sinclair's apartments as well.
She never considered the fact that it was a large family home. She just assumed after living in a one-bedroom apartment with a teenage girl, Colton wanted to make sure they both had plenty of space. But why would he do that if he wasn't in it for the long haul? Truthfully, they hadn't really talked about it. She just assumed Violet would be staying since the idea of her leaving broke Hazel's heart.