Murder Beneath the Mistletoe

by Ruby Loren

  George was round Lizzie’s house.

  Holly rested her head in her hands, staring at the laptop screen. Why would he be round there? He’d said he’d never consider Lizzie, despite her obvious interest in him. Had he been lying? After all, Christian was hardly being the faithful boyfriend he was supposed to be if he was sending Holly necklaces. Perhaps the same was true of George and Lizzie.

  Then again, he might be there because of work, and his text about being busy was completely honest.

  She chewed her lip, deliberating. Her instincts were telling her that there was something wrong.

  What if Lizzie had something to do with Timothy Marsden’s murder?

  She had to find out. Without thinking too much more about what she was going to say when she got there, she stepped out of the house and walked to her car.

  She was so wrapped up in what might have befallen George, she completely forgot that she’d left Watson out in the garden - and had no idea that he was currently amusing himself by digging a great big hole under the hedge.

  Stash in the Attic

  Holly immediately spotted George’s car parked in the lane near Lizzie’s house. He was definitely here, but why? She decided to creep up and do a little spying. Hopefully no one would spot her, or she’d end up with a restraining order. That would definitely be bad for business.

  She peered through the hedge that bordered Lizzie’s house and could just see movement through the kitchen window. It looked like Lizzie was washing something up. There was no sign of George, not even after several minutes had passed. Holly took a deep breath and decided to listen to her instincts. The man running across the heathland had come from the direction of this house and now George was possibly missing, or at the very least - acting exceedingly oddly. Holly was starting to suspect that Lizzie might be keeping a secret. And Timothy Marsden had known what it was…

  Her fingers itched on her phone as she wondered whether now would be a good time to call for reinforcements. If she was correct, it would be the sensible thing to do, but all she had was a feeling - a feeling that something wasn’t right. If Holly was being completely honest with herself, it could just be jealousy talking. She didn’t want George to be all loved up with Lizzie.

  You’ve got to know either way. He could be in trouble! the little voice in her head said and she steeled herself, thinking of an excuse.

  She marched up to the door and saw Lizzie look up from her washing up when she approached the house. There was no need to ring and the door was soon answered.

  “Hi Holly, can I help you?” Lizzie asked, sounding rather putout.

  Holly pasted on her best PR smile. “Yes! George’s sister contacted me to say there’s a family emergency and they need to speak to George. I haven’t been able to find or contact him. I thought I’d come here on the off chance he was around. I know you two are close,” Holly said, hoping to flatter the other woman.

  “You probably saw his car on the way in,” Lizzie said with a small smile that said it all to Holly. It was an ‘I win’ smile.

  Holly nodded.

  “He’s just upstairs. I think he’ll be down in a few minutes. In the meantime, why don’t you have a drink? I was just about to put the kettle on. I know it’s an emergency, but a few minutes more probably won’t make a difference.”

  Holly half-nodded along. She hoped the other woman wouldn’t start probing too far, and then what would she do when George came down and asked her what exactly she was doing there? The truth would have to come out, and the sooner the better. She should start talking now and hope the pair would forgive her for being so suspicious and sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. Something creaked up in the eaves of the house, as if Lizzie’s attic ghost agreed with her.

  Holly walked into the kitchen after Lizzie. “Lizzie, I haven’t been completely straight with you…” she started. The other woman tilted her head questioningly and passed over a mug of tea. Holly held the warm mug in her hands and tried to think of the best way to come clean. “I came here because I was worried about George. There wasn’t really a family emergency. I just thought…” She trailed off. “I don’t know.” Lizzie could read between the lines there. “Anyway, I’m happy that you’re happy together,” she finished weakly, not wanting to make eye contact any longer. Instead, her eyes fell on the overstuffed rubbish bin and the packet of brown hair dye and empty spray tan bottle that had fallen onto the kitchen floor.

  “Anyway, I’ve bothered you too much. I’ll be off now,” she said, carefully putting the mug on the kitchen unit, the tea untouched. The cogs in her mind were turning quickly and every sense was screaming at her to run.

  Something clunked upstairs. The two women’s eyes made contact when they both heard the low moan.

  “Old houses are so weird, right?” Holly said, the smile straining at her lips as she turned to walk out of the kitchen.

  “No you don’t,” Lizzie told her.

  Holly felt something cold press into her back. “What have you done to him?” Holly asked, her voice barely louder than a whisper. She turned slowly.

  Lizzie stepped back, and now Holly could see there was definitely a gun in her hand. It looked so wrong seeing something like a gun so near to Little Wemley. It was the sort of thing you only thought people had in the movies, but there it was…

  “He’s fine. You should be more worried about yourself. I’m afraid your ending isn’t so happy.” She looked down at the tea on the table and sighed. “If only you’d drunk that.”

  Holly felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle.

  “It was you who killed Timothy. I’m guessing you poisoned the champagne and then somehow persuaded Lana to give it to him.”

  Lizzie nodded. “Poor Lana. Much like me, she was stuck with the wrong man. Timothy was the one she wanted, only, he never showed any interest. I gave her the drink and told her it had a little something in it that would give her a helping hand in persuading Timothy to return her feelings.” She laughed. “She thought she was drugging him, not killing him. Of course, she won’t admit that I was the one who gave her the drink because I know her little secret.” Her smile turned predatory. “Timothy isn’t the only one who had puppets dancing on strings. I found out that Lana’s been creaming off the tax returns she files for the company. It was quite clever really, but she left some evidence lying around, and I found it. I suppose she’ll take the blame for Timothy’s death. It makes sense, doesn’t it? She loved him and he didn’t love her back, so she kills him.”

  “What about me? What about George? Your plan doesn’t work with us gone, too,” Holly said, but Lizzie’s smile never faded.

  “Oh, I planned for this. I was going to persuade George to stay with me, but… things changed.”

  Something clicked in Holly’s brain. “The man on the heathland… he looked like your brother. You said your brother drowned in the river?” Holly said, wondering just where this was leading. She glanced at the fake tan and brown hair dye again and started to feel sick.

  “He didn’t die. He just got hurt one time. He had a lot wrong with him from the start. He was a unique child, but I was always there for him. I always looked after him. One day we’d climbed a tree and had a fight. I was angry and pushed him, just a little, but he lost his balance. He was injured…” she said, blinking her eyes furiously. “My parents said it was my fault. I was the one who was supposed to look after him. The injury was bad but time healed that. It was his mind that was worse. One night, he left his room and murdered my parents before disappearing from the house. The police never found him, but I did. I took him home and hid him and looked after him. I’ve been looking after him for years.”

  Holly felt the chill start to crawl up her spine. Lizzie sounded like she was telling the truth, but there was something off about it. Who was the man who’d run across the heathland and died in the river?

  “I’m sorry about your family,” Holly started, hoping it was what Lizzie wanted to hear. She looke
d at the rubbish some more and drew a deep breath. “Where is George?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

  “In the attic. He’s not George anymore,” Lizzie said, matter of factly. “Come and see.” She jerked the gun to show Holly she should move.

  The climb up the stairs into the roof of the house was the longest of Holly’s life. All the time, she was supremely aware of the gun at her back and the lack of options she had for escaping this situation. She was aware that Lizzie was unhinged and wasn’t sure if there was a way she could be talked down. Logic was almost certainly beyond her.

  “Holly, meet Jason - my brother,” Lizzie said, opening the door of the attic to show George sprawled on a bed. A cuff that linked to a chain was around his wrist. His skin was stained dark and his white blonde hair was now a faded shade of brown. Holly finally knew her suspicions were correct.

  “I think your real brother died a long time ago,” she said and heard Lizzie’s fingers drumming on the barrel of the gun. It wasn’t a comforting sound.

  “I killed them for him. Our parents were going to send him away, but I couldn’t let them. He saw what I’d done and ran. But it’s okay, I have him back,” she said, smiling at George. George’s eyes opened a little and then closed again. Holly assumed he’d been drugged.

  “Your brother died a long time ago, Lizzie,” Holly repeated. “The man we saw running across the heathland… you were pretending he was your brother, too, weren’t you?” she said, already knowing it was true. While she spoke, her eyes searched the room for a weapon. There was nothing. This place was a prison that had been stripped of all possible weapons.

  Lizzie scowled.

  “He ran away, but I have him back now, see?” She pointed to George.

  Holly realised there would be no arguing with Lizzie. Instead, she changed the subject. “Timothy knew about this, didn’t he?”

  Lizzie’s expression darkened even further. “There was a man who wanted a job with the firm. He came all the way from Germany just for the interview. I interviewed him and invited him back home. I knew then I’d found him. I’d finally found my brother.” She frowned again. “Until he broke his hand and ran from me.”

  Holly winced, imagining the man who had been held captive getting desperate enough to break his hand to slip the bonds. He’d have had to practically sever his thumb. Holly tried not to let the horror of it show on her face when she remembered the poor man’s awful end.

  “No one came looking for him, so I knew he was definitely my brother. He belonged to me. But Timothy didn’t think so. He went through old emails and saw the exchange I’d had with the applicant. He made enquiries and found out the man had eventually been reported missing. That was when he got suspicious.” Her face developed red blotches. “He spied on me! Then he confronted me and told me what he thought he knew. He didn’t understand that it was the right thing. He didn’t understand that it was my brother I’d lost and had finally found. He made me pay him to keep quiet, but I knew I wouldn’t do it forever. He thought he was safe, but I confronted him just before the Christmas party and pretended that the evidence was all gone. I told him that I’d let the man go and that he’d forgiven the mistake. He had nothing over me anymore.” She paused and Holly remembered the note that Timothy had passed her. He’d been scared that night.

  Lizzie played with the gun, her finger twitching on the trigger. Holly tried not to jump like a scared rabbit.

  “He was expecting trouble from me, not Lana, which is why he happily downed the champagne.” She smiled. “And all of my problems went away.” She raised the gun.

  Holly comprehended that time was up, and this time around, there was no Rob to save her. She was on her own - unarmed against a gun.

  “Now all there is to do is get rid of you and pin it on Christian, whose gun this is…” Lizzie shared a smile. “I stole it when we were sleeping together,” she confided. “I know he likes you. He even asked me what to do about it, and I was the one who encouraged him to send the necklace. I’m sure the police will find it and realise you rejected him.” Lizzie shook her head. “What are the chances? Two violent rejected lovers at one party!”

  “But what about George? People will notice he’s disappeared.” Holly glanced at the bed where George was lying. His eyes were half-open and unfocused. She wished he’d wake up so he could help her - even if it was just by giving her a distraction.

  “The man previously known as ‘George’ is going to be moving house with me. We’re both distressed by the murders and need time on our own to develop our newfound romance. He doesn’t have any family that I know of…” Lizzie tutted. “You really should have come up with a better excuse for barging in on other people’s affairs. That was so sloppy. Anyway, we’ll be gone from town. I’ll handle the company remotely and answer any contact via text or email. Poor George has seen so much death recently, I’m sure people will understand that he needs some time out of the rat race in order to recuperate.” She smiled nastily, and Holly had a bad feeling that Lizzie’s word would be taken as the truth. George had been through a lot, and she had noticed he’d become far more stressed during the time she’d known him. People would probably believe the story.

  “So, there you go. I’m going to live happily ever after with my brother, and you’re not,” Lizzie said, bringing the gun up.

  The Curious Incident of the Dog

  Holly thought about diving to the floor just before the gun went off, but she had a feeling Lizzie’s finger would be faster. There was nowhere for her to run to and no one coming to save her. This time she’d run out of luck.

  Holly closed her eyes and wondered when it would all be over.

  She heard the click of the gun when the safety came off, and at the same time, the sound of scrabbling on the front door outside and a loud yapping. Holly shook off her surprise more quickly than Lizzie and threw herself forwards onto the other woman, knowing this was her only chance.

  The gun went off and Holly felt a blinding, white hot pain in her shoulder. She ignored it and kept trying to wrestle the deadly firearm away from Lizzie. Unfortunately, Lizzie had spent a great deal of time dealing with full grown men and winning. Holly didn’t even regularly go to the gym and felt outmatched in every single way. All she could do was fight as dirtily as possible and hope for a miracle.

  The pair were still rolling around the floor together when George groaned and rolled off the bed. It was only blind luck that Holly had been pushed clear of Lizzie - and was probably just about to get her ass kicked - when it happened. George fell as dead weight and landed on Lizzie, crushing her to the floor. Lizzie struggled beneath George, trying to push him off, but George was so drugged up it was like pushing a corpse.

  Holly seized the opportunity and grabbed the gun. “Where’s the key?” she yelled at the struggling woman, who stopped wriggling for a moment and glared at Holly.

  “Go to hell,” she said.

  Holly felt her finger tighten on the trigger, and despite George’s proximity to the target, she wondered if she should just pull the trigger. It would be so easy, and after everything this woman had done… She shook the feeling away. That wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t a killer. She wasn’t like them.

  “The key… or I start shooting bits of you,” Holly said, figuring that maiming wasn’t the same as murder.

  Lizzie’s eyes flickered to the opposite eave of the attic and Holly could see the silver key dangling on a hook, probably placed there to torment her victims. Forcing down the feeling of disgust, Holly took the key and unchained George’s wrist. She opened the manacle and then snapped it shut around Lizzie’s wrist, keeping the gun trained on her the whole time. Fortunately, the pinned woman didn’t try anything. Instead, she was gently sobbing and talking to her ‘brother’. Holly thought about pulling George off her, but she didn’t seem likely to harm him and getting close to Lizzie again was just asking for trouble.

  She pulled out her phone and dialled 999. It was crazy to think that
less than a month ago, she hadn’t ever had to dial those three digits.

  As the adrenaline faded, Holly again became aware that she’d been shot. Blood stained her top, and she could feel the sting the bullet had left behind. A quick glance beneath her clothing let her know that the bullet had just creased her collar bone. It hurt a lot, but no major damage had been done. She’d been lucky to escape with her life, and it was all because…

  She heard another yapping noise and remembered what had saved her.

  Holly rushed downstairs and opened the door, a little cautiously in case Lizzie had some ferocious guard dog. She should have trusted her ears. Watson looked up at her like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.

  “Huh! So you get too tired to walk on a lead, but you can somehow follow me cross-country to a house?” she complained but bent down and ruffled the dog’s wonky, floppy ears. He was only a baby but some instinct had already helped him save her life. There was no way she would be turning him out of her home. She and Watson were going to be a team like, well… Sherlock and Watson.

  Digging up the Truth

  It was New Year’s Eve when George was released from hospital and came round to see her. Holly didn’t comment on his orange face and the way his blonde hair was still several shades too dark. He probably didn’t need to hear that right now.

  “Thank you for saving me,” he started, his eyes meeting hers when they both sat down at her kitchen table.

  “You were the key to saving us both in the end. If you hadn’t fallen on Lizzie like that, I’d have been done for,” Holly said and smiled a little weakly. George echoed it.