Picture Perfect Murder Bachelorettes and Bodies
Girls’ Night Out Murder Rings, Veils, and Murder
Old-Fashioned Murder Next Stop Murder
Bed, Breakfast & Murder Gold, Frankincense & a Merry Murder
Veiled in Murder Heartache, Hustle, & Homicide
Sullivan Sisters Mystery Series (cozy)
Murder on the Vine Tea Leaves, Jealousy, & Murder
Burning Hot Murder Flames, Frames, & Murder
PrePEAR to Die
Copper Cove Mystery Series (cozy)
Seaside & Homicide
A Witch in Time Series (paranormal)
Time After Time
Runaway Bride Time (novella)
Toy Time Tragedy (novella)
A Trinity Falls Series (romantic comedy)
Blazing Trouble
Cougar Trouble
Chapter 1
“We’re gonna tear this place up tonight!” my seventy-five-year-old Nan cried as she tugged down the hem of her black mini dress.
I barely suppressed a groan at her words as we hurried into the foyer of the three-story office building where I worked as a temp. Technically my last day had been yesterday, but I was still invited to the office Christmas party.
“Simmer down there, Nan,” I joked. “Let’s not get too crazy.”
Melanie “Mel” Adkins was not only my Nan, but she was also my best friend. My mom died in childbirth, so I never really knew her. My dad would show me pictures and movies they took right up until the time of her death. So I feel I know her in some ways…but I never had a chance to physically meet her. My dad raised me the best he could. When he died from a brain tumor around my twelfth birthday, I went to live with my Nan. She’s been my rock and my best friend ever since.
Don’t get me wrong, it hasn’t always been sunshine and roses. Nan was sometimes a hard woman to live with, and she had a hand of steel when she needed it…but once I reached adulthood, she just slipped into being my best friend and roommate. Now at twenty-six, I’ve come to appreciate all she has done for me.
Immediately after nursing school, my Nan volunteered to serve in the Army Nurse Corps during the Vietnam War. When her time was up—including a one-year tour in Vietnam—she came back stateside, married my Papa, and then immediately had my dad. A few years later, Nan went back to college and was one of only a handful of people in the United States at that time to become a nurse practitioner. According to Nan, a nurse practitioner in the late seventies was virtually unheard of.
I waved to the elderly security guard, Bernie, behind the huge counter and veered off toward the elevators. For the last two weeks I’d worked as the administrative assistant to Margaret Eldemire—a high-powered ad executive at the Staley & Thomas firm in Piper Springs, Kansas. Margaret’s regular assistant had gotten married and was on a two-week honeymoon cruise.
Nan shook her head. “How is it you turned out so straight laced, Amanda?”
It wasn’t the first time we’ve asked each other that question. Nan and I are total opposites. I’m medium height and build, shoulder length reddish-auburn hair, hazel eyes, and according to Nan, I’m a goody-goody. I currently work temp jobs until I can support myself as a full-time pastry chef. My Nan was just over five feet, athletic, has a nearly wrinkle-free complexion, and she has the most beautiful electric blue eyes. Those eyes currently matched her hair. That’s right, my seventy-five-year-old Nan sports short, spiky black hair with electric blue tips. She was well educated and has a fabulous sense of humor. Her other perk…she carries and conceals at least five different weapons on her body at all times.
I shifted the miniature cake in my hand and pushed the up arrow on the elevator wall. I’d baked the sugar-free, low-carb cake tonight for Margaret Eldemire. Last week she confided in me that she’d recently lost forty-five pounds and wanted to keep it off, but the holidays had proved to be more difficult than she thought. She was a stress eater, and under more stress than normal…not from the holidays per say, but from her job.
According to Margaret, Staley & Thomas would announce the new vice-president of advertising and marketing at the Christmas party. She’d sworn me to secrecy before confiding that the three candidates up for the job had already been told, and she’d gotten the promotion. Margaret needed a way to celebrate with her friends without inhaling too many calories. When I offered to make a mini sugar-free, low-carb cake for her, Margaret jumped at the chance. She’d scribbled my name down on the sign-up sheet in the break room, bragging to everyone I would bake a diet cake just for her.
“One more quick look.” Nan fluffed up her hair and checked out her appearance in the mirrored walls as we waited for the elevator. Her three-inch black and gold strappy high heels paired nicely with the knee-length, skin-tight black dress that hugged her curves perfectly. She looked both wild and sophisticated. Not at all like you might think a seventy-five-year-old grandma should look.
I surreptitiously took in my four-seasons-ago long black dress and tried not to cringe. Usually this was my designated funeral dress, but tonight it had to double as my semi-formal attire. Mainly because I couldn’t afford to go out and buy a new dress. Nan had offered to buy me a new outfit, but I refuse to let her spend money on me. And every additional penny I make goes into my savings for my future bakery.
The elevator doors slid open and we entered the miniscule death trap. As the coffin doors closed, I had Nan push the button for the second floor. I pretended I wasn’t unnerved and hummed along softly to the Christmas music in the elevator and prayed once more I’d have a good time tonight. Letting my hair down was not something I did easily.
“Take a few deep breaths,” Nan said. “You’ll be fine. Drink a little…but not too much. You don’t want to be a meme on social media tomorrow.”
I rolled my eyes and chuckled. “I think that advice is more for you than me.”
“You’re right. I’ll try and remember I’m your plus one tonight and not embarrass you.”
“Technically,” I said, “my last day was yesterday. So you’re fine.”
Nan winked at me. “Good to know.”
The elevator doors slid open, and my senses were immediately assaulted. About fifty people were crammed in the front office area, drinking and laughing. Most sported Santa hats and blinking jewelry. Snowflakes, Christmas ornaments, and candy canes hung from ceiling tiles, and the smell of cinnamon and pine permeated the air.
I was about to take a step backward into the elevator and flee back to our condo when Nan grabbed hold of my elbow and gave me a reassuring smile. “We’re here to have a good time, Amanda.”
“You’re right.”
Nan laughed and shook her head. “Let’s go find you a drink to help you relax.”
“First let’s put the cake in the workroom. Then we can find a drink and relax.”
“And hit on cute guys,” Nan added.
I snorted. “I didn’t see many of those around in my two weeks here. Especially in your age group. But I have no doubt if there’s a cute guy running around, you’ll find him.”
Nan grinned, wrapped her arms through mine, and together we ambled over to the workroom. I kept my eyes open, hoping to catch sight of Margaret so I could find out where exactly she wanted me to put her candy cane cake.
Yesterday afternoon I received an email from Margaret as I was leaving work. She asked if I could make her diet cake with mounds of white and pink diet buttercream frosting. So last night I went online and found a recipe. In the end, I was impressed with the consistency of the frosting. To make the cake more Christmas-y, I went ahead and crushed up candy canes to sprinkle on top of the pink and white frosting, then added pink sugar crystals for effect.
Nan and I entered the crowded workroom, and I gasped at the lovely sight before me. The tables all had red tablecloths draped over them, and the matching candy cane plates, cups, and napkins paired well with the candy cane centerpieces. Intrigued, I picked up one of the centerpieces and examined it. Someone had taken four
candy canes and flipped them upside down so the loops rested evenly on the table. From there they glued the four canes to a skinny, red candle, and then tied mistletoe around the candle.
I set the candy cane centerpiece back down on the table and looked around for Margaret. I caught her eyes across the room. She waved and excused herself from the group and hurried over to where Nan and I grazed from a food table. When Margaret saw the little cake I carried, her mouth dropped open and tears filled her eyes.
“Oh, it’s precious!” Margaret cried. “I almost don’t want to eat it.”
I laughed. “Where do you want me to set it?”
Margaret bent down and scooted a couple desserts closer together and made a spot for her cake. Grinning, she pulled a tiny piece of paper out of her dress pocket. Scrawled in fancy pink letters was her name. She set the place card in front of the mini cake and clapped her hands.
“No one should bother it,” Margaret said. “Pretty much everyone knows I’ve lost this weight. Not like you can hide forty-five pounds.”
“But good for you for planning ahead,” Nan said.
“I love how you went with a pink and white theme,” Margaret said. “Matches the décor.”
“Just like you requested,” I said.
Margaret frowned. “I did?”
I laughed at her forgetfulness. “Yes. In your email to me yesterday?”
“I guess I forgot.” Margaret shrugged. “I’ve been so busy lately I can hardly remember my own name. Now let’s get out of here before I inhale this table.”
We all headed back out toward the main party area.
“What time is the announcement for the promotion?” I asked Margaret.
“Around eight o’clock,” Margaret said. “At least that’s what the email from Patrick Staley said.”
I glanced at the clock on the wall. There was still about thirty minutes before the final decision would be announced.
Margaret groaned. “Looks like Marc is waving me over. I better go see what he wants.”
Marc Mallard paced back and forth in front of Margaret’s office. His face was a scary shade of red, and his blonde hair was tousled and stuck up in spikes. His blue suit was disheveled and wrinkled, and his tie was undone and flopped loosely around his neck. Marc had also been a contender for the vice-presidency job according to Margaret.
“Wonder what that’s all about,” Nan murmured.
I shrugged. “Not a fan of Marc Mallard, so I really don’t care.”
Nan laughed and snagged two flutes of champagne from a tray on a nearby table. “Let’s go mingle. I see some eye candy over by the copy machine.”
I accepted the glass and swiveled to see who it was she meant. I wasn’t kidding when I said I hadn’t seen anyone worthwhile in the two weeks I worked here.
I sucked in my breath. “Wow. I don’t remember seeing him around.”
“Let’s go,” Nan said as she grabbed my elbow and dragged me behind her.
Standing nearly a foot taller than anyone around him, a handsome man with piercing brown eyes, long wavy brown hair, close-cropped beard, and a square, chiseled jaw stood lazily sipping from a glass beer bottle. I guessed him to be in his early thirties. I snorted at his choice of clothing…short-sleeved T-shirt sporting a kitsch picture of cats and dogs in Santa hats. His dark-fitted jeans were stylish and expensive. He also touted a lot of solid muscle. He reminded me of that hottie Jason Momoa. When his eyes fell on Nan and me, he lifted one corner of his mouth along with his beer.
“Hi there,” Nan said as she wiggled her way in between three other people standing by the handsome guy. “Nice party.”
He gave Nan a wolfish grin as he took her all in. “It is now.”
I gulped down my glass of champagne and pretended not to notice his sleeve of tattoos. He had danger written all over him…from his piercing eyes, to his muscled body, to his bad-boy tattoos. This was exactly the kind of guy Nan liked. If only he wasn’t forty years younger.
“Do you work here or are you a plus one like me?” Nan asked.
He turned his large, muscled body so he spoke directly to Nan and me. “I work here. First floor.”
I mentally kicked myself for not going to the first floor more often. Not that I’d have had the nerve to speak to him.
“My name’s Mel,” Nan said, “and this is my granddaughter, Amanda Adkins. She was the temp girl for Margaret Eldemire. That’s how we snagged an invite tonight.”
“Blake Wellington.” He nodded to me. “I know who you are. I had to set up your email account your first day on the job. Usually that would be Cooper’s area since he’s Margaret’s main IT guy, but he was out sick that day.”
“You’re an IT guy?” I asked incredulously. “Really?”
Blake chuckled and stared deep into my eyes. “Don’t let the outside fool you, honey. I’m good at what I do.”
Chapter 2
I felt my cheeks burn. Both from his censor of my opinion of him and his personal endearment to me…with a hint of a double entendre. I heard Nan chuckle, so she obviously caught it, too.
A commotion over by the main offices thankfully drew our attention, and I was saved from responding. Two well-dressed gentlemen raised their hands and asked for everyone to quiet down. I recognized Patrick Staley, one of the owners of the company. I assumed the other guy was Michael Thomas, the other owner.
“We’re passing around more champagne,” Patrick Staley called out. “Grab a glass because we are about to announce the new vice-president of advertising and marketing.”
A cheer went up from the already raucous group. I wasn’t sure if the cheer was because of the imminent announcement or because more booze was passed around.
When a tray came our way, Nan grabbed two more drinks for us. Blake shook his head and silently lifted his beer.
“After much deliberation,” Patrick Staley said, “Staley & Thomas has decided that the best person for the new vice-presidency job is…Margaret Eldemire!”
I let out a squeal of excitement at the announcement. I couldn’t wait to find Margaret and congratulate her. Even though I knew beforehand, I still had to act like it was a surprise.
“So join Michael and me and lift up your glasses,” Patrick said and lifted his glass high in the air, “to toast Margaret Eldemire and her well-deserved promotion!”
I was so excited I drank nearly the whole flute. Not that it really mattered to me who got the promotion. I was done with the temp job, but I was still excited for Margaret.
“There’s cake and punch in the lounge,” Michael Thomas said. “Help yourselves. And have a great time tonight.”
I figured Margaret was digging into her cake by now, so I searched my mind for the best excuse to leave Blake Wellington’s side. I wasn’t thrilled with the effect he seemed to have on me.
“Nan, let’s go see if we can find Margaret and congratulate her.”
Nan frowned. “Why? I’m perfectly happy right here talking to this hunk. I’m gonna see if he doesn’t have a dad or uncle that’s single for me. Genes are genes girl…and he’s got good ones. You should pay more attention.”
I blushed as Blake threw back his head and laughed.
“I really like you, Mel,” Blake said. “And as luck would have it, I might have someone you need to meet.”
“Okay, fine.” I said to Nan, downing the last of my champagne. “You stay here, and I’ll be right back.”
I pushed my way through the crowd of party goers and stepped out into the hallway. I slapped my hand against the wall to steady myself. I should have never had two glasses of champagne with virtually no food in my stomach.
I sighed and pushed myself off the wall and staggered into the workroom. Sure enough, Margaret had already inhaled most of her diet cake as she chatted excitedly with three other women. When she saw me, she set her cake down and gave me a big hug.
“Congratulations, Margaret,” I said. “You deserve it. I may have only been here two weeks, but even I could
see how great you are at your job.”
“Thank you.” Margaret dabbed at her eyes then picked up her cake. “You want a bite? It’s good.”
I looked down at her cake and frowned. Something about the texture of the frosting looked off. It had an almost powdery look to it.
“That’s an unusual frosting,” one of the women in Margaret’s group said. “I tasted a tiny sample of it, and it didn’t taste right.”
“Nonsense,” Margaret argued. “It’s divine, Amanda. It really is.”
I was about to swipe my finger through the end of the cake and take a nibble for myself when a hand on my back push me aside. I stumbled but caught myself before I fell.
“This isn’t over,” Marc Mallard grumbled. “I know you did something to sabotage my presentation. When I find out how you did it, I’ll make sure the owners know. And then I’ll get the promotion that’s rightfully mine.”
Margaret’s face turned red. “Marc, for the last time, I didn’t do anything to you or your presentation. You need to leave me alone.”
“Yeah,” the woman who commented on my nasty frosting said. “Leave it be, Marc. You lost fair and square.”
Marc narrowed his eyes at Margaret. “You better watch your step.”
With that he turned on his heel and marched out of the room. The workroom was eerily quiet for a few more seconds before someone passed me another flute of champagne.
I shook my head no, but Margaret insisted. “One more toast to me and my new job. And to this wonderful cake you made, Amanda. Thanks for keeping me on track.”
Reluctantly, I grabbed the flute, clinked glasses with her, and took a large drink of the champagne. Margaret picked up the cake again and wolfed down the rest, leaving behind a glob of pink frosting. Obviously she wasn’t a fan of the diet frosting.
Giving Margaret one more hug, I hurried out to find Nan. I’d just about had my limit of Christmas cheer. Just as I thought, she was still chatting with bad-boy Blake. I shook my head and grinned. I picked up my pace and had almost reached them when Marc Mallard came up behind Blake and grabbed his arm. I had no idea what was said, but I saw Blake scowl at Marc. Marc yelled something, then pointed his finger in Blake’s chest.
Killer Christmas Cozies Page 16
