Cadaver on Candy Cane Lane (Christmas Village Cozy Mystery Book 1)

by Leighann Dobbs

  Phoebe dug in her pocket and pulled out the card. “Yes, it does. I say this is the perfect time to poke around.”

  The windows at the front of the factory were dark. The neon candy canes that framed the entrance door set off an eerie glow that made Ember wonder if she was doing the right thing. Phoebe didn’t share her feelings. She headed straight for the side door and slipped her card into the reader. The door clicked, and they went inside.

  The factory area was dim, but a light glowed from the side. Maybe some elves were working overtime. It was almost Christmas, and there were probably a lot of orders to fill.

  Phoebe turned to Ember, her index finger to her lips, then tiptoed toward the stairs that led to the office on the second floor. Up above, the windows in the office were dark. No one was in the office, but surely there was some sort of security detail there.

  “What if someone catches us up here?” she whispered to Phoebe.

  “I’ll just say I have a candy delivery,” Phoebe shot over her shoulder.

  “But we don’t have any—”

  “What are you doing here?” Stan leaned in his office doorway, suspicion plastered all over his face.

  Phoebe whirled around. “Chocolate delivery.”

  Stan’s gaze flicked to Phoebe’s empty hands.

  She looked down. “Oh dear! I forgot the candy. How silly of me. I’m getting up there in age, you know. I just get so forgetful.” She frowned. “What are you doing here? I thought the union had a strict rule about overtime.”

  Stan blushed. “It does. I felt really sluggish today and didn’t finish the quarterly inventory sheets, so here I am. I guess I was so busy I forgot to thank you for the candy you delivered earlier. I hardly even remember you leaving.”

  Apparently, Stan didn’t realize he’d been asleep. That was one of the effects of the spell. He would have fuzzy memories around the event.

  “Oh, you thanked us. You’re probably just working so hard that something as inconsequential as our visit doesn’t register much. The inventory is very important. You do such a great job at it.” Phoebe tried to butter him up before discreetly asking, “Is there some problem with it?”

  “No. Why do you ask that?”

  “Oh, I just heard that there was a shortage or something,” Phoebe said.

  Ember admired the subtle way she was fishing for information. “I bet the owner wouldn’t like that,” Ember added.

  “No, he wouldn’t. But there’s no shortage. Where are you hearing these things?” Stan asked.

  “Oh? I thought I heard that somewhere. Maybe I was mistaken.” Phoebe smiled benignly. “You know how us old ladies are.”

  Stan stared at her for a few minutes, then his expression changed as if he’d made a decision. “Is this something you heard from Alfie?”

  “Alfie? I should say not!” Phoebe apparently didn’t want to be associated with the elf that Stan thought was pulling shenanigans.

  “Because I know he suspected something...” Stan let his voice drift off.

  “I thought you suspected Alfie of nefarious activity,” Phoebe said.

  “That’s what I said, but he may have been right.” Stan hesitated then asked, “Am I correct in assuming that you were the one working with Alfie?”

  “Maybe.” Phoebe’s brows shot up. “What do you mean that he may have been right? Did you notice something amiss in the inventory?”

  Stan looked at her oddly. “What? No. I don’t do the daily inventory. I get the sheets from Mr. Rinch. He likes to do all that himself. He’s kind of a control freak.”

  Ember studied Stan. Should they trust him? If Rinch did the inventory, then why had he not noticed the missing toys? Unless he wasn’t paying attention to the inventory. And why wouldn’t he pay attention? There was only one reason Ember could think of. Because he had no need to pay attention.

  Rinch was buying the factory from his brother, so you’d think the inventory and sales numbers would be pretty important, but what if he was also tampering with the inventory so that he could further reduce the value of the company?

  “He seems like a hard man to work for.” Phoebe leaned closer to Stan and lowered her voice conspiratorially. “I heard something very interesting about him that didn’t quite make sense to me.”

  “About the inventory?” Stan’s tone held a hint of interest.

  “No, about a fireworks show.”

  “What? That doesn’t make sense.”

  Phoebe nodded. “Yep. It’s no secret there was going to be a strike. We don’t know what will happen with that now, with Alfie’s passing, but Tinsel in reception told us that Mr. Rinch was planning a big party with fireworks.”

  “Seems totally out of character,” Ember added.

  Stan looked thoughtful. “A party with fireworks, eh?”

  Phoebe nodded. “Yeah, weird, huh?”

  “Have you mentioned this inventory stuff to anyone else?” Stan asked.

  “Nope,” Phoebe lied.

  “Or the fireworks?” Stan asked.

  “Not at all.”

  “Good, ’cause I wouldn’t want to get into trouble with the boss.” Stan glanced up at the dark office. “But there is something funny I noticed. I’ll show you.”

  He started toward a door in the back, and Ember’s radar twitched. Something was off about this. If Stan really did know something, had he been working with Alfie? Maybe Alfie’s investigation had spurred him to do one of his own. “Where are you going?”

  “To the roof. Alfie had a suspicion that I followed up on. I think he would want me to show you.”

  Chapter 12

  The rusted metal stairway creaked as they ascended to the roof. What could possibly be kept on the roof that was so suspicious?

  Stan opened the door and gestured for them to precede him. Cold air hit Ember’s face, and snowflakes swirled in the wind, their intricate shapes highlighted by the light of the full moon against dark skies.

  A dusting of snow covered the roof, which was fairly empty except for a brick chimney at one end and a bunch of air conditioning units with what looked like metal storage cabinets in front of them. The cabinets were locked up tight with a thick, padlocked chain dangling from the handles.

  “Did you find something in those cabinets?” Phoebe started toward them.

  “No, over here.” Stan pointed at the chimney, and Phoebe changed direction.

  Ember was not as accommodating, nor as trusting. She wanted more of an explanation. “Do you think Mr. Rinch was planning something to harm the factory so he could get it cheaper?”

  Maybe Rinch was keeping something up here. It would be a good place to hide things since it looked like no one ever came up here.

  “Yes! That’s exactly it. Come over here, and I’ll show you.” Stan stood next to the chimney.

  As Ember started over, something tugged at the back of her memory. Stan had never mentioned the excessive amounts of petty cash. She thought back to earlier in the day, when they looked through the papers in his office. Had there been inventory lists on any of those sheets? The ledgers had been all numbers. Income and outgo. But the office had been such a mess. They might not have seen it all. They hadn’t had time to look in every nook and cranny or under every trophy.

  “I don’t see anything over here.” Phoebe peeked around the edge of the chimney. It was about three square feet and quite large, so she had to crane her neck to see around it.

  “It’s not behind it. It’s inside.” Stan gestured for Ember to join them. “If you ladies get up on the rim, I’ll hold you. There’s a ledge, and you’ll see exactly what I mean.”

  The chimney was not very tall, only about three feet, and Phoebe plopped up on the edge with ease. She looked back at Ember, holding out her hand. “Come on.”

  Something didn’t make sense. Why had Stan never reported the excess petty cash? Stan and Greg Rinch were the only people doing inventory, but neither of them had noticed the missing toys? What could possibly be in the chimne
y? The set of sleigh bells with the missing bell that had killed Alfie? Now that she thought about it, that would be the perfect place to hide it.

  Lucky thing Stan had started to trust them. Must have been those chocolates they brought... shoot. The chocolates!

  Phoebe had gone out back the morning Alfie was murdered to give him some chocolates. She’d dropped those upon finding his body. The police had held back the information about chocolates being on the crime scene in the hopes of trapping the killer. They’d been disappointed that the chocolates hadn’t actually been there when Alfie was killed.

  But one chocolate had been there. Alfie must have been eating it because it was melted in his hand, and since it was bitterly cold and snowing outside, that chocolate couldn’t have been one of Aunt Phoebe’s. That meant the police’s trick had actually worked. Only the killer would have known about that chocolate. On their first visit to the factory, Stan had mentioned something about Alfie being killed while eating chocolates.

  “Hurry up, Ember!” Phoebe was leaning over the side of the chimney, Stan hovering behind her.

  “Aunt Phoebe. No. Get away. Stan’s the killer!”

  It happened so fast, Ember didn’t have time to react. Stan whipped around, grabbed her, and shoved her into the chimney behind Phoebe. She fought, but he was strong, strong enough to whip a sleigh bell down an alley and kill someone. Too bad she’d realized that a few seconds too late.

  “Aunt Phoebe!” Ember had visions of her great-aunt lying broken at the bottom of the chimney, so when Phoebe’s reply drifted up, a spark of hope bloomed.

  “In here. I’m hanging on a ledge. What is going on up there?”

  “Stan is the killer!” Ember fought with the wily elf as he spun her around and stuffed her head into the chimney. She could see Aunt Phoebe clinging to a narrow brick ledge inside. Ember stuck out her hand for Phoebe to grab while her feet grappled in the slick snow and Stan tried to shove her farther inside.

  “Grab my hand. I’ll try to pull you up!”

  “No, you won’t. You two are gonna have a little mishap.” Stan pushed harder, and Ember almost toppled in. Phoebe clasped her hand. The old woman had a strong grip. Ember used the other hand as leverage against the opposite side of the chimney to keep from falling in.

  “Why’d you do it, Stan?” Phoebe yelled up.

  “You think you can live off an elf’s pay? It’s not easy, and I got expensive tastes. I do a lot of sports, and that equipment is expensive.” Ember remembered the sports trophies. One of them had been for softball. She wouldn’t be surprised to find out that Stan was a star pitcher.

  “But Alfie was working to get higher pay,” Ember tried to reason.

  Stan snorted. “Yeah, too little too late. I’d already been skimming off the top, and Alfie was getting too close.”

  “So Greg Rinch wasn’t up to anything shady?” Ember kicked out, but Stan avoided her foot.

  “Not that I know of. I wouldn’t put it past him. I don’t have time to pay attention to what he’s doing though. With the sale of the company looming, I had to cover my tracks, so as you can imagine, I have my own problems.” He pushed harder, gripping her waist and trying to shove her down the opening. It was becoming quite difficult to hold onto Phoebe’s hand and keep her other hand on the lid of the chimney. Ember wouldn’t be able to keep this up much longer.

  “Which included trying to hide the fact that you killed Alfie!” Ember yelled.

  “Yeah, and if you didn’t keep asking so many questions, I might have gotten away with it. What did you put in those chocolates, anyway?”

  “Sleep spell. But we never found anything suspicious in the books.”

  “Of course not, I doctor up the official books. Any idiot would know that. Alfie was trying to figure out where I kept my fake ones. I’ll never tell.”

  “You pushed the snowman on us!” Phoebe yelled up the chimney.

  “Yep. Too bad you didn’t take the hint then. Now, you’ll be found crumpled at the bottom of the chimney like little, nosey Santas.”

  Ember twisted, gaining the advantage. She pushed back, but Stan was stronger. He shoved, and she lost her footing.

  She toppled into the chimney, one hand grabbing frantically for the lip or an uneven brick—anything to stop her fall—while she held onto Phoebe’s hand with the other. The last thing she heard before she lost her grip was the jingle of bells and the stomping of hooves on the rooftop.

  Chapter 13

  Strong hands pulled Ember and Phoebe out of the chimney just in the nick of time. Ember found herself face-to-face with Yule Navidad.

  “Youse okay?” Yule’s gaze flicked from Ember to Phoebe. He looked genuinely concerned.

  “I think so. Aunt Phoebe?” Ember looked her aunt over anxiously. Phoebe appeared to be fine. She was busy brushing soot off her clothes. Good thing they’d worn black.

  “I’m fine, dear.” Phoebe brushed at her face, smudging soot all over it.

  Over near the edge of the roof, one of Yule’s thugs had wrestled Stan to the ground. “How did you know we were here?”

  “That darn cat.” Yule pointed to the sleigh. It was filled with toys. The reindeer, in their colorful harnesses, pawed at the snow, their breaths causing little puffs of condensation. Brimstone sat on the seat of the sleigh, his tail curled around him. He slitted his eyes at them and yelled, “Could you people hurry up? It’s freezing out here.”

  “Anyway,” Yule continued, “when youse left, I got to thinking about how nosey you were and realized you might come over to the factory. When the cat showed up, meowing his head off, I recognized that he was yours. I’d had my right-hand man, Bart, check you out earlier, so I knew you had that black cat. The cat wouldn’t stop meowing, so I figured my hunch about you two getting yourselves into trouble was correct.” He frowned at Brimstone. “I could have sworn his meows sounded like ‘roof,’ so we checked here first.”

  “Thanks. That was awfully nice of you, Mr. Navidad,” Phoebe said.

  “Well, I do love my vanilla creams. How would I get those if something happened to the candy lady?” He smiled affectionately at Phoebe. “And please, call me Yule.”

  Phoebe blushed and patted her bun.

  “So this elf, Stan, was the culprit all along?” Yule asked.

  “Not the only culprit.”

  Ember turned to see Detectives Winters and Noel standing behind them.

  “We’ve been following some leads that point to Greg Rinch. Turns out, he had some plans for the factory that didn’t include ramping up production.”

  “What do you mean?” Phoebe asked.

  Winters nodded to Noel, and he went to the storage closet, cut the chains holding it closed, and opened it to reveal gasoline, rags, a torch, and fireworks. “Turns out, he was planning to have a little fire sale. Literally.”

  “But why?” Yule asked. “That would ruin all the toys, and at this time of year, it would be very bad.”

  “Insurance money. Seems that Mr. Rinch had been planning this all along. The buyout would be final this week, and he was banking on the strike happening next week, so the place would be empty. He planned to burn the place enough to get the insurance money. Guess that would be more lucrative than keeping the place running. Business wasn’t what it used to be,” Winters said.

  Noel chimed in. “He almost got away with it too. Was going on vacation so he’d have an alibi. Hired one of the pipers piping to do his dirty work. We have his confession down at the station. He sang louder than the four calling birds once we brought him into the station. He was going to claim the fireworks ignited from a spark in the chimney and caused it. With all those fireworks popping, no one would be able to get near the factory to put it out.”

  Yule glanced at Stan, a confused look on his face. “Wait a minute. If Rinch wanted the strike to happen, then why did he kill Alfie... and what does Stan have to do with it?”

  “He didn’t kill Alfie,” Ember piped in. “Stan killed him because Alfie d
iscovered he was embezzling from the factory.”

  “He confessed to us before you came,” Phoebe added. “And I’m sure you’ll find a set of large sleigh bells with one missing in his apartment.”

  Detective Winters looked at Yule with suspicion. “And what is your involvement in this?”

  Phoebe stepped in between them. “Nothing. Mr. Navidad saved us just when Stan was about to push us down the chimney to our deaths.”

  Winters walked over to the chimney and looked in. “Huh, that’s a long way down. I’ve been in a few of these, and it’s no joke.”

  “I’ll say,” Phoebe agreed.

  Winters glanced over at Stan, who was still struggling with Yule’s henchmen. “Guess we better take him in. He and Greg Rinch will be going away for a long time.”

  They took Stan into custody and left.

  “I knew that Rinch guy was up to something,” Phoebe said.

  “Yes, but at least we caught the actual killer.” Ember was quite pleased with herself for figuring out the clues, even if it had almost been too late. Issy and Gray would be proud.

  “Sad ending though.” Phoebe looked downcast. “Now that Rinch is arrested, the factory will probably close down. How will the kids get their toys?”

  “Don’t worry about that,” Yule said. “I’ve got an idea.”

  Chapter 14

  The smell of chocolate permeated Aunt Phoebe’s chocolate store as Phoebe handed out steaming mugs of cocoa. A plate of candy sat on a decorative tray on the little table in front of them—peppermint bark, caramel turtles, and white chocolate covered with nuts. A fire crackled in the fireplace, and Ember was snuggled into a pink cashmere sweater as she sat on the overstuffed chair across from the sofa where Aunt Phoebe and Mabel from the knitting place were sitting. Brimstone was there, too, but not on the sofa. He lay curled in front of the fireplace, his eyes closed, but his ears alert.

  “I’m relieved that Alfie’s killer is behind bars,” Mabel said. “It was disturbing to think that a killer was walking the streets.”