Dying in a Winter Wonderland

by Vicki Delany

  She let out a long shuddering sigh and gave me a huge smile. “I am so glad. You’ve lifted my heart, Merry Wilkinson. I just know that you and I are going to be great friends.” She reached for my hands and I took a quick step backward, my rear end bumping into the table displaying the afternoon-tea arrangement.

  “You and Jeff were engaged?” I asked.

  “Yes. Yes, we were.”

  “I’d heard he was marrying a woman from Rudolph.”

  Her face tightened. She turned her attention back to the dolls. She picked up another one and fingered the lace trimming Mrs. Claus’s apron. “You know what men are like. They don’t know their own minds sometimes. He and I were engaged. He left me for that silly woman. She was planning a July wedding. I could have told her not to spend too much money, it wasn’t going to happen. He would have come back to me in time.” She ran a perfectly manicured finger over Mrs. Claus’s face. “And now . . . Now that’s not going to happen, either.”

  I was so focused on Madison, I just about hit the celling when the chimes over the door tinkled and a customer came in. I forced out a smile. “Welcome. Please let me know if you need any help.”

  As interesting as this conversation was, I had to get to work. “I’m sorry, but I have my business to attend to. Are you staying in Rudolph?”

  Madison shook her head. “I live in Rochester. I decided the holiday would be the perfect time for Jeff and me to reconnect, so he could remember he and I are made for each other, but before I could go around to his place, friends told me he and his parents had come here. To spend Christmas with her. I drove down yesterday to talk to him. What Margaret thought she was doing, letting Jeff marry into that family, I’ve no idea.”

  “Margaret? You mean Margaret Vanderhaven? What does she have to do with anything?”

  “Please, you don’t think she didn’t try to control every move Jeff made? It was one of the few things that came between us. He paid far more attention to his mother’s opinion than a grown man should have. I finally realized I had to accept his mother’s interference if Jeff and I were to have the future we deserve. Margaret doesn’t have it easy. Not married to Louis.”

  My head spun. The customer ran her fingers over a string of wooden cranberries decorating the store’s live Douglas fir. If she was interested in getting a set, I needed to show her the box they came in.

  Madison put Mrs. Claus down. “Thank you for talking to me, Merry. You’ve made me feel so much better. Now I know, for sure, Jeff chose me before he died.”

  “How do you . . . uh . . . know that?”

  “Jeff and I both loved dogs, so very much. He went into that clearing to sit next to the dog statue and think things over. He realized I was the woman for him. Not that one.” Madison’s eyes narrowed. Suddenly, she wasn’t so beautiful anymore. “I only wonder if he had time to tell her that he was dumping her. Before she killed him.”

  That set me aback. Was this woman going to go around accusing Luanne of killing Jeff? That would open a whole new can of worms. I studied Madison’s face. If I had to pick one of Jeff’s “fiancées” as a possible murderer, Luanne wouldn’t be my first choice. “That’s quite the accusation,” I said.

  Madison McKenzie walked out of Mrs. Claus’s Treasures.

  The customer stared at me. I finally remembered where I was, and what I should be doing, and gave her a smile. “Aren’t those cranberry beads lovely? They’re handmade by a local artisan from wood gathered on his own property.”

  “That was an interesting conversation to be witness to.”

  “She’s . . . uh . . . rehearsing for a play. She gets carried away sometimes in her intensity.”

  “Right.”

  “Twenty-five percent off. Today only.”

  “In that case, I’ll take four boxes.”

  As well as the cranberries, she also bought a set of coffee mugs, two boxes of tree ornaments, and a stuffed reindeer. Jackie held the door for her as she staggered out under the weight of her purchases.

  “Good morning, Merry,” Jackie said. “Did you solve the murder overnight?”

  “No, but I have an idea. Mind the store.”

  “Don’t I always,” Jackie muttered as I disappeared through the curtain to the back. I called Detective Simmonds from my office.

  “I learned something this morning I think you’ll be interested in.”

  “Go ahead,” Simmonds said.

  “You spoke yesterday to a woman named Madison McKenzie.”

  “I did.”

  “Are you considering her as a suspect for the murder of Jeff Vanderhaven?”

  “I’m not going to tell you that, Merry. I’m not going to tell you anything. What do you have to tell me?”

  “Madison came into the store. She left moments ago. Did you know she used to be engaged to Jeff Vanderhaven and hoped to be again?”

  “I’ve just arrived back at the station. I could use another coffee. How about you meet me at Cranberries and we can talk?”

  “Great,” I said.

  “Bring Matterhorn.” She hung up.

  Mattie and I were standing on the sidewalk outside the coffee bar when Simmonds arrived. As usual, a good number of children had stopped to greet the big dog. Also as usual, several parents had told their child they couldn’t ride him.

  Simmonds laid one hand on the top of Mattie’s head. He shivered in excitement. Mattie loved Detective Simmonds. I tried not to be too jealous about that.

  “What will you have?” she asked. “My treat. I’ll bring the drinks outside and we can go for a walk with Matterhorn.”

  “A latte, please.”

  A few minutes later, cups in hand, we strolled out of town in the direction of the lakeside park and the bandstand. We’d put on our sunglasses for protection from the light of the winter sun shining off the expanse of fresh snow. Frozen white waves lined the shoreline, and farther out the lake was deep blue, sparkling in the sunshine. Snowmen constructed with various degrees of expertise dotted the park, and family groups either glided or stumbled over the surface of the town’s ice-skating rink. Laughter filled the cold, clean air.

  I let Mattie off the leash as we wandered through the park. He ran happily about, never venturing far from me. Like all Saint Bernards, bred to the mountain passes of Europe, Mattie’s a winter dog. He suffers terribly in the heat of summer and loves nothing more than a romp in the cold and the snow.

  “Tell me,” Simmonds said, “about this apparent previous engagement of Mr. Vanderhaven’s. Madison McKenzie neglected to mention that minor detail to me.”

  “She was engaged to Jeff, or so she says, but he broke it off for Luanne. She, Madison, was confident he would come back to her. She suggested Luanne killed him because of it.”

  “She actually told you Luanne killed Jeff?”

  “She told me she thinks Luanne did it. Along with a whole lot of wishful thinking along the lines that because Jeff was near a dog statue when he died, that proved he’d decided to break it off with Luanne and go back to Madison.”

  “I don’t see the connection to dogs.”

  “Luanne doesn’t like dogs. She’s wary of them, I saw that myself.” We both looked toward Mattie, shuffling happily through the snow. “According to Madison, she and Jeff both loved dogs. Makes no sense to me, but she’s clutching at straws that’ll help her believe Jeff wanted to get back with her.”

  Simmonds sipped her coffee. “I’ve seen plenty of instances of that sort of thinking before. You wouldn’t believe what some people can make themselves believe, when they want to. When I spoke to Madison yesterday, she was clearly distraught at the news of Jeff’s death, but she didn’t mention Luanne. She said she and Jeff were close friends. I’ll admit I thought she was a drama queen, trying to make herself seem important to the investigation. I needed to get over to Luanne Ireland’s house, so perhaps
I didn’t pay as much attention to Madison as I should have.”

  Snow crunched beneath our boots. Mattie eyed a squirrel watching him from high in an ancient oak. A snowsuited child ran screaming in delight toward him, but before I could warn her not to frighten the dog, her dad caught up to her and scooped her into the air. Mattie doesn’t frighten easily, and he doesn’t have an aggressive bone in his body, but charging at any strange dog is never a good idea.

  I turned my attention back to Simmonds. “What did Madison tell you she was doing in Rudolph anyway? She lives in Rochester. How’d she hear about Jeff’s death so quickly?”

  “Word got out almost immediately. The Vanderhaven family doesn’t live in Rudolph, but they are known here. Madison told me she was coming to Rudolph to go shopping and a friend of hers called her with the news. She then headed straight for the inn.”

  “Did you believe that?”

  “I had no reason not to. Although, according to what you’re telling me, perhaps I should take a look at her again.”

  “She didn’t tell you about the end of her engagement to Jeff, and she didn’t try to finger Luanne to you. She must have thought it over last night and decided to come back today and do so. For some reason, she chose to talk to me.”

  Simmonds nodded.

  “As long as you’re here,” I said, “I’ve been wondering about a couple of things.”

  “Go ahead. You can ask all the questions you want. Doesn’t mean I’m going to answer.”

  “Do you know why Jeff was at the Yuletide yesterday afternoon? I’ve been wondering if maybe he had a business meeting there. He wouldn’t have gone to help plan the wedding. Luanne hadn’t told me he was coming to meet with Mark, and I didn’t expect him to. When I was at the Irelands’ house on Christmas Eve to discuss the change in wedding plans, he wasn’t at all interested. He said he’d show up where and when he was told to and that’s all he needed to know.”

  “Some men are like that. On the other hand, my husband, now my ex-husband, threw himself totally into the plans for our wedding. Down to choosing the colors of the table settings and what style of dress I was to wear. Better he’d stayed out of it. I should have realized that if he wanted to pick my wedding dress, he had a heck of a lot of control issues.”

  I knew a few details of Simmonds’s private life, but no more than anyone else in town. This was the first time she’d shared something so personal. “Which,” she said, “is totally irrelevant. As for why Jeff was at the Yuletide Inn, his mother told him to go.”

  “She did?”

  “Jeff and his father went to the bar in their hotel to watch a sports game on TV. His mom dragged him away and told him he had to do something to get back in Luanne’s good graces. I’ve had officers check that story out, and the bartender tells them Jeff’s mother tore a strip off him for being neglectful of his fiancée and insensitive to her feelings. He finished his beer and left at approximately quarter to two. His dad stayed behind, watching the game.”

  “That contradicts something Luanne told me. She said Margaret didn’t want Jeff to marry her.” I threw up my hands. “Then again, she might have been after my sympathy. I don’t know why Luanne’s settled on me as her new best friend and confidant, but such seems to be the case.” To get close to Chris, maybe? I didn’t say that out loud.

  “Her fiancé died yesterday,” Simmonds reminded me. “She’s confused and unsettled. Her behavior isn’t atypical.”

  “I guess not. Interesting about Jeff’s mom, though. Madison told me Margaret’s bossy toward Jeff.”

  “Some mothers are like that. My ex-husband’s mother was like that. I think he learned his control issues from her. Again, neither here nor there. For what it’s worth, Margaret Vanderhaven is devastated by Jeff’s death and blames herself for making him go to the Yuletide.”

  “That’s gotta be hard. Do the Vanderhavens have any idea of who might have wanted him dead?”

  “Not that they’re sharing with me.”

  We watched Mattie dig a trench in the snow with his nose. As long as Simmonds was being chatty, I decided to press on. “Do you know anything about Jeff’s will?”

  “Why are you asking?”

  “I’m wondering if Luanne stands to inherit anything.”

  “That’s a good question, Merry.”

  “Harvey Ireland’s in deep financial trouble, according to Rudolph gossip. He needed the Vanderhaven business contacts.”

  “Local gossip isn’t always completely reliable,” Simmonds said. “But sometimes it is.”

  I took that as confirmation. “Has the autopsy been done yet? Do you know anything for sure about the death? Maybe it was an accident?”

  “It’s scheduled for tomorrow morning. They’re backed up because of the holidays. I haven’t ruled out an accident entirely. People slip and fall all the time in winter. However, the ground around the spot where Jeff died had no trace of icy patches, and nothing he might have tripped over. His boots were good ones and reasonably new.”

  Simmonds’s phone rang. She glanced at the display and lifted one finger to me as she answered. “Is that so? I’ll be right there.” She put the phone away and wiggled her eyebrows at me. “Guess who?”

  “Madison?”

  “She’s at the station, wanting to talk to me. She has, she told the officer on the desk, information pertinent to the death of Jeff Vanderhaven.”

  “I’ll come with you,” I said. “I can listen in and see if what she says to you corresponds to what she told me.”

  Simmonds let out a bark of laughter. “Good try, Merry. But not good enough.”

  I called to Mattie. “Mattie! Let’s go!” He ignored me. “Mattie, come here!” He continued to follow an unseen trail, nose plowing a furrow through the snow. “Mattie!”

  Simmonds snapped her fingers once, the sound like a gunshot in the crisp air. She didn’t raise her voice as she said slowly and distinctly, “Matterhorn. We are leaving now.”

  He lifted his head, turned, galloped back to us, and dropped to a sit in front of us, eyes shining, tongue lolling. I refrained from making a comment as I snapped on his leash. Diane Simmonds had told me her parents trained animals for movies and TV, and she’d grown up working alongside them. Sometimes it almost seemed like she and Mattie had a psychic connection, I thought, trying once again not to be too jealous.

  We walked together to Mrs. Claus’s Treasures. I stopped in the doorway, and Simmonds carried on toward the police station. “You know Chris didn’t kill anyone,” I called after her. “You need to let him go back to New York.”

  She turned around. I couldn’t read her eyes beneath the dark glasses, but the line of her mouth tightened. “I know nothing of the sort, Merry. Madison McKenzie might have something relevant to tell me. She might be wanting to revel in the attention. When I decide, you will not be the first to know.”

  She walked away. Mattie whimpered.

  I should have known better. Diane Simmonds was not my friend. She did not want to sit down with me, sip lattes, kick back with Mattie curled up at our feet, and talk about her case as though we were equals.

  She had a job to do, and if that job pointed to my brother’s guilt, she’d arrest him.

  I’d better not forget that.

  Chapter 13

  No luck,” Dad said. “Ralph’s on a Caribbean cruise, lucky guy, so I can’t reach him, and no one else on the budget committee is in town. Or answering their phone, at any rate.”

  “What about Sue-Anne?” Sue-Anne Morrow was our town’s mayor.

  “She’s around, but I’m reluctant to approach her. Jim has some business dealings out Muddle Harbor way, and I don’t know if she’s compromised.”

  Jim Morrow, with his rumored affairs and shady business deals, was an anchor around his wife’s political ambitions.

  “Let me see what I can do,” I
said.

  “What you can do? What does that mean? You don’t know anything about real estate and multimillion-dollar deals.”

  “No,” I said, “but I know how to listen to gossip. Did Simmonds call on Chris this morning?”

  “She came shortly after you and I first spoke. They went over what happened yesterday, and she didn’t stay long. Chris said she hadn’t told him anything new. I wasn’t party to their conversation and I didn’t get a chance to ask her about the woman you were wondering about.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” I explained to Dad that Madison had shown up at my store.

  “More complications,” he said. “As for what you’re planning to get up to, all you’re going to do is listen to gossip, right?”

  “Of course.”

  “I don’t want you interfering in this, honeybunch. Look what happened last time. People could have been killed.”

  “But no one was,” I said. “You yourself said yesterday we have to do something to help Chris.”

  “I meant listen to the talk, keep our ears to the ground. That’s not interfering.”

  “Don’t worry, Dad, I know what I’m doing.”

  “Why does that not make me feel better?”

  I chuckled, said good-bye, and hung up. I took Mattie into the office, filled his water bowl, and settled him down for the rest of the day. I then hung my coat on the hook behind the door and took my phone out of my coat pocket. I studied it. All I was going to do was gather gossip.

  Someone had to.

  I placed a call.

  “What’s up?” Vicky said. “No time to talk. I’m run off my feet.”

  “Feel like going out for lunch?”

  “Are you crazy? I can’t go out for lunch. I have hundreds of other people to make lunch for. We were closed yesterday, remember?”

  “I thought you’d enjoy a break. We could go for a nice drive, head out of town, have a pleasant lunch, return to work refreshed and reenergized.”

  “I don’t need refreshing and reenergizing.”