Hollyberry Homicide

by Sharon Farrow

  “Well, I do have a four-wheel drive,” Kit said, “and I’ll leave early tomorrow morning for Rochester where my aunt lives.” Rochester was a northern suburb of Detroit’s. “But Aunt Rose wants to cook a big dinner for us, which means I won’t bring Mom and Dad here until the next day. Naturally, they’ll stay with my sister and Greg.”

  “Of course.” I smiled. “I can’t imagine they want to miss a second with the grandkids.”

  “Be careful,” Tess warned. “Forecasts call for more snow, and driving conditions are already bad. By Tuesday, the roads may be impassable.”

  “I’ll watch the radar.” Kit looked at me. “How about your parents?”

  “They drive up from Chicago on Wednesday. However, they might not make it in time to catch our matinee. I don’t care about that. But I do want them here for Christmas Eve.”

  “That’s your birthday, too,” Theo reminded me.

  “Indeed it is. Because of the weather, I suggested they take the train. Dad refuses. He had a bad experience on Amtrak years ago. The restroom door broke, locking him in for two hours.” I shuddered. “Don’t mention trains to him. Not even toy trains.”

  “What should I do?” Theo looked alarmed. “My dad doesn’t want me to drive in the snowstorm. He bought me an Amtrak train ticket so I could go home for Christmas. And I have to ride two trains! What if I get locked in the bathroom?”

  Theo often took things literally. I should have remembered he was traveling by train to Champaign, Illinois. “You’ll be fine,” I told him. “My dad’s experience happened a long time ago. The trains have been updated since then.”

  Dean shot me a skeptical look from the club chair he lounged on.

  “I’ll try not to go to the bathroom,” Theo said solemnly. “I won’t drink anything.”

  Gillian leaned forward. “Theo, I promise you the bathroom doors on the train will work.”

  He didn’t look convinced. I’d have along talk with him about it tomorrow at the shop. I planned to go in early to help with the baking.

  Kit looked around. “Aren’t we missing some of the gang?”

  “Natasha has another date with Alexei, the architect.” I picked up the plate of cookies from the coffee table and offered it to Kit. He grabbed three. “I think it’s getting serious. She mentioned they might spend Russian Christmas together. In Russia.”

  “Russians have their own Christmas?” Theo asked.

  “The Russian Orthodox Church celebrates Christmas on January the seventh. And they call Santa Ded Moroz, or Grandfather Frost.” I chuckled. “Since Natasha moved in, I’ve gotten a crash course in Russia 101.”

  “As for my absent brother,” Dean said, “he and Oscar are attending yet another Christmas party. They’re like Oriole County’s version of Scott and Zelda Fitzgerald. I expect one of them to start jumping into fountains fully clothed.”

  Tess giggled. “Or write The Great Gatsby.”

  Theo looked confused, but didn’t say anything.

  Kit nodded toward Piper. She sat in the glider rocker, all her attention on the texts she was sending and receiving. “What’s going on? Piper’s never this quiet.”

  “Hollyberry homicide,” Dean said in a mock-tragic tone. “Piper is worried she and the town are about to be sued big-time.”

  “No one will be sued.” Piper did not look up from her phone. “Precautionary measures are underway to make certain of that. I’ve been texting Lionel and my attorney. We’ve come up with a few ideas on how to deflect this tragedy from Oriole Point. And me.”

  “There’s been a homicide?” Kit tensed up.

  “An accident,” David said.

  Theo sipped his apple cider before adding, “The Christmas tree killed Santa tonight.”

  “Wait. Someone tell me exactly what happened.”

  A bevy of voices rose up to answer Kit. All the noise inspired Minnie to imitate her favorite ringtones, while Dasha turned her attention from cookies to attacking the laces on Theo’s shoes.

  When everyone finished giving their thumbnail accounts, Kit asked, “Did Chief Hitchcock indicate he thought the death was suspicious?”

  Tess gestured at Dean and me. “Ask them. Those two were right in the thick of things.”

  “I was there, too,” Piper said defensively. “And no one knows what caused the death.”

  “The police think Gareth died from the impact of the giant tree falling on him,” I told Kit.

  Piper glared at me.

  “It was a very big tree,” Theo announced in a solemn voice.

  Kit shook his head. “I’m surprised the town ever got clearance to put up that thing.”

  “How did the town green-light it, Piper?” David asked with a sly grin.

  “A miscommunication.” Piper stood up. “Who knew the tree was so huge? And the installers are to blame for the whole fiasco. Which includes Gareth Holmes’s death. My lawyer thinks we have a good case of negligence against Welker and Sons.”

  “You can’t put the blame for Gareth’s death on Billy Welker and his kids.” Tess sounded appalled. “They’re a little tree removal business. And they did you a favor by struggling to put up that tree every time it fell over.”

  “Shame on you, Piper,” I said. “A major lawsuit will destroy their business.”

  Piper grabbed her Birkin from beside the rocker. “They should have thought of that before installing the tree incorrectly.”

  “You’re to blame,” Dean said. “You wanted the biggest tree in the county.”

  “We should blame the wind, too,” Theo added. “Every time the tree fell over, it was because of the winds from the lake.”

  Piper shrugged. “Fine. Let the Holmes family sue Lake Michigan. I don’t care as long as no one mentions my name in the lawsuit.”

  She stalked out of the room. When the front door slammed shut behind her, we all looked at each other for a long moment.

  Minnie broke the silence: “You’re to blame. You’re to blame.”

  “If she throws the Welkers under the bus,” Gillian said, “it will ruin them financially.”

  “Let’s wait and see,” I cautioned. “Gareth was estranged from his children. I don’t even know where they live. They may have no interest in a lawsuit. Or even in their father’s death.”

  “And if Piper does sue the Welkers,” Tess said, “I’ll ask my sister-in-law to defend them.” Tess’s brother was married to a high-powered attorney. “Elena has never lost a case. She’ll make mincemeat of Piper.”

  “Why is Piper so mean?” Theo asked.

  I sighed. “Despite what she says, Piper probably blames herself for what happened to Gareth. She feels guilty.”

  “But she blamed the men who put the tree up,” Theo said.

  “She’s deflecting to make herself look less guilty. To be fair, Billy Welker and his sons should have refused to install it. Especially after it fell three times. Yet they hauled it back into place again and again. Technically, they’re all guilty.”

  “I think Piper is the most guilty,” Theo said with emphasis.

  “Amen,” Dean added.

  I sat up as something occurred to me. “Hold on. They’re all guilty. Every one of them. Guilty of greed, dishonesty, and selfishness.”

  “Even the tree men?” Theo looked uncertain.

  “No, not them. I was referring to Everett Hostetter and the people he kept around him.”

  “Guilty about what?” Kit asked.

  Restless, I got to my feet and began to pace. “Think about it. This greedy rich man fathers a child, only to turn his back on the mother and his baby. And that child became a police officer who cheated and lied, all for money.”

  Given Janelle’s sour attitude toward life, I assumed Everett’s neglect had left scars.

  “Would Janelle have turned to a life of crime if Everett had been more generous?” I went on. “He was also miserly with his sister’s son. When Anthony’s trust fund ran out, Everett refused to give him a job. That led to Anthony
starting his own company with his college friend.”

  “Which resulted in his friend’s suicide.” Kit wore a somber expression.

  “Exactly. Everett also convinced Anthony’s mother to disinherit her only child so Anthony would be dependent on him.”

  David shuddered. “They all sound repulsive.”

  “They are. Then Everett married a woman he used as a weapon against his sister, Sarah.”

  “Katrina May was a weapon?” Tess asked. “How?”

  “Katrina passed on messages to Sarah from the spirit world, advising her on what to do. Everett wanted Katrina to persuade his sister to sign over all her shares in the family company to him. Which she did. Only somehow she scared her to death. Literally.”

  “The ghost lady killed her?” Theo looked outraged.

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. If so, she and Everett share responsibility for her death. They’re both guilty. And his sister’s death was a life-changing epiphany.”

  “What’s an epiphany?” Theo asked.

  “A sudden realization,” Tess answered. “Everett must have realized his insatiable greed led to his sister’s death.”

  “That’s when he moved to Oriole Point. He convinced the others to come here as well.” I paused. “Or threatened them. Probably to keep an eye on everyone. Try to get them to straighten out their dishonest lives. And he let them think one of them would inherit.”

  Theo scooped up Dasha, who licked his face in delight. “My dad says people should be honest and kind. This way they can never get into trouble.”

  “Everett and the unholy trio were never honest or kind.” I continued to pace. “Neither was his lawyer, no matter how great a Santa he made. Gareth’s hands were plenty dirty.”

  “Then he should have washed them,” Theo said sternly. “People need clean hands.”

  “As for Gareth,” I said, “he and Everett were the only ones who knew the contents of the will. Knowledge that put him in danger.”

  Minnie muttered, “Who took the banana?”

  “You need to bring us up to speed about this will, Marlee,” Gillian said.

  I quickly told them what I had learned.

  “How could Gareth refuse to make Everett’s will public?” Tess asked when I was done.

  “He never filed it with the probate court. Only he and Everett had copies. Everett never even wrote a will until the past year. Which seems stupid, considering his age.”

  “Once a will is accepted for probate, beneficiaries would be notified within three months,” Kit explained. “The will also becomes a matter of public record. If it hasn’t been filed, I believe the state steps in to ascertain the distribution of assets. That’s probably the time any possible heirs would make their personal appeals.”

  “But there is a will,” I said. “Two copies. And I think I know where one of them is.”

  “Where is it?” Theo asked.

  “Gareth had one copy. I have no idea where he put that. But I bet Everett’s copy is in his dressing room at the Calico Barn. He kept the dressing room locked and had the only key. Which I now have.”

  “Is there somewhere a will could be hidden in the room?” Kit said.

  I nodded. “I wanted to check it out last night. But by the time I got there, everyone had gone. And the theater was locked. Someone did show up while I was trying to get in the back door. I snuck out before they saw me. Whoever it was had to have seen my Berry Basket van in the parking lot. So they knew I was there.”

  Tess looked concerned. “You shouldn’t have gone there alone.”

  “Call me the next time you go,” Theo offered. “The barn is close to my cottage.”

  Kit frowned. “Marlee, why didn’t you tell me all this?”

  “You were busy with a triple homicide.”

  “I don’t care if I’m chasing down Jack the Ripper. Your safety comes first.”

  Dean whistled. “Wow. You come before Jack the Ripper. This one’s a keeper, Marlee.”

  “I know.” I sat down beside Kit once more. “And I’ll search the dressing room tomorrow. The entire cast and crew will be at the theater for dress rehearsal, even Tess. I’ll be safe.”

  “I’ll help you look,” Tess said. “I’d love to know who Everett left all his money to.”

  Kit put his arm around me. “If you do find the will, call me immediately.”

  “I promise.”

  “And how is the triple-homicide case going?” David asked him.

  “There was a big break in the case this weekend. We arrested two of the ringleaders of the meth ring. That’s why I can take a couple days off. There’s a good chance the two we arrested will give up some names. Only I’m more concerned about Gareth’s death at the moment. After all, the last person to know the contents of Everett’s will has been silenced.”

  “But the tree killed him,” Dean said. “It was an accident.”

  “Or accidentally finished him off,” I replied. “Gareth was probably sitting on the park bench when the tree knocked him to the ground. Only what if he was already dead?”

  “Dead from what?” Tess asked.

  The memory of Everett’s gingerbread cookies flashed before me. “Poison.”

  “I have a feeling we’re going to hear about that squirrel again,” Dean warned.

  “How would someone poison him?” Gillian wondered.

  “Every time I saw Santa yesterday, he was eating something,” Theo announced.

  “I know he ate from a bag of hot chestnuts,” I said. “One he got from Katrina.”

  “When he visited our studio, he brought cookies from Lakeshore Holiday.” Tess thought a moment. “Or maybe it was Gemini Rising. Every shop offered free food and drinks tonight.”

  “I bumped into him twice while I was caroling.” Gillian shook her head. “Both times he had a cup or a bag of food in his hand.”

  “If he was poisoned, the killer had ample opportunities,” Kit observed.

  “There’s something else. When they lifted the tree off him, Gareth was lying on his back. Pinned right over his heart was a sprig of real holly.”

  “Is this the Christmas Carol reference again?” Dean asked.

  Tess snapped her fingers. “She’s right. It’s from something Ebenezer Scrooge says.”

  “I’ve memorized more than my own lines. I also know most of Scrooge’s. Especially this one.” I took a deep breath before reciting, “ ‘If I could work my will, every idiot who goes about with ‘Merry Christmas’ on his lips, should be boiled with his own pudding, and buried with a stake of holly through his heart.’ ”

  “Could be a dark joke left by the killer,” David suggested.

  I agreed. To kill Gareth while he was playing Father Christmas seemed deliberate.

  “Maybe someone poisoned him with berries from the holly bush.” Theo looked at me.

  “They’re not the berries I would choose,” I said. “The taste is hard to mask.”

  “Is there any significance to holly, besides A Christmas Carol?” Kit asked.

  I gazed at the crackling fire while I considered this question. “Nothing that makes sense in the context of a murder. The holly bush has symbolism for Christians. The sharp holly leaves represent the crown of thorns that Jesus wore. The red berries symbolize the blood Jesus shed. Only I don’t think there’s any way to view Gareth Holmes as a Christ figure.”

  “Not even close,” Tess said.

  “Holly plays a different role in Celtic mythology,” I went on. “From summer until the winter solstice, a nature god called the Holly King reigns supreme. His weapon of choice is a holly bush, and he’s pictured as covered with holly leaves and branches. Again, I don’t see any connection to a lawyer too clever for his own good.”

  “Does the holly bush represent anything else?” Kit knew I was an expert on berries.

  “The Celts viewed it as bad luck to cut down a holly bush, but removing its branches was allowed. And they believed the wood of a holly bush held magical properties.
Most English horsewhips in the past were made of holly because it was thought holly could control horses.”

  “Could it?” Theo asked in wonder.

  “Doubtful. But holly trees and bushes were also said to protect buildings from lightning strikes. We’ve since learned the spines on holly leaves may serve as tiny lightning conductors.”

  “Our Marlee is a fount of berry trivia.” Dean grinned.

  “Berries are fascinating. And beautiful.” I pointed at a vase of holly branches on a floating shelf by the window, placed high enough so none of the animals could reach it. “I always bring holly inside during the holidays. It screams ‘Christmas.’ ”

  “So does your entire house.” Dean eyed the snow globes on the bookshelf beside him.

  “It’s not just about Christmas. The Celts kept holly branches in their home for good luck, and to protect against evil spirits.” I smiled. “Legend claims that if you have holly branches inside the home, it provides shelter for good fairies during the winter.”

  Theo’s face lit up. “Fairies,” he said in a dreamy voice.

  “All very interesting.” Kit nodded. “And I think you’re right. The sprig of holly pinned to his jacket points to A Christmas Carol. When I get back, I’ll have a long talk with Chief Hitchcock. Or have Greg talk to him tomorrow. Until then, let’s keep these suspicions to ourselves.” Kit turned to me. “And after you’ve had a look around the dressing room, please call a halt to the sleuthing.”

  “Gladly. I have a play to perform, gifts to finish wrapping, and Christmas to celebrate.”

  “Along with a birthday,” Gillian added.

  “That too.” I stood up once more. “Since we’ve all skipped dinner and already had dessert, it’s time we head to the kitchen. This is perfect weather for grilled-cheese sandwiches and tomato soup. Lucky for us, I went grocery shopping last night.”

  Dean jumped to his feet. “I’m in!”

  “I’m starving for real food,” Gillian cried.

  Everyone stood up and stretched.

  All this sudden movement set Dasha to barking, and Minnie into a refrain of “Jingle Bells.” Panther climbed up the big velvet bag of wrapped Christmas presents by the white tree.

  Kit and I followed the others into the kitchen. But I couldn’t resist a glance back at the holly branches in my vase.