Killer Christmas Cozies

by Jenna St James

  Blake Wellington didn’t look like a man you wanted to poke. I held my breath, expecting a fist to fly. Instead, Blake said something then turned back to Nan and winked at her. Marc huffed and stomped away.

  I rushed over to where they were. “What was that about?”

  Blake shook his head. “Marc needs someone to blame for his presentation going haywire awhile back. It was something the three people in contention for the vice-presidency job had to present.”

  “What exactly happened?” I asked.

  Blake shrugged. “I guess his slides were all out of order. At first he thought Margaret somehow did it, but when he couldn’t prove that, he asserted I did it because I’m his main IT guy. Not that I had anything to do with his presentation.”

  Nan snorted. “Obviously the guy didn’t get the job because he’s a little high strung.”

  Blake chuckled. “Yeah. He is at that.”

  I couldn’t remember the other person up for the promotion. “Who was the other person in contention for the job?”

  Blake thought a moment. “I believe it was Linda Sellars.”

  “Did the other vice-president of whatever whatever leave or something?” I asked.

  Blake slowly shook his head at me but he couldn’t stop the grin. “Vice-president of whatever whatever? Yeah, you’d have gone far here.”

  I shrugged and gave him a tipsy grin back.

  “The person whose job Margaret filled was fired for…” Blake looked off in the distance and frowned. “I believe she fraternized with a rival company or took a job with them. I’m not really sure anymore.”

  “Interesting,” I said.

  Well, not really, but I didn’t know what else to say. I was ready to go but I could tell Nan was not.

  She must have been able to read my mind. “Have one more drink, Amanda, and then we’ll go. Okay?”

  I looked around the room and was a little surprised to find it was tilting. “I don’t think so. I’ve had like three glasses of champagne now on an empty stomach. Any more and I’ll be sick.”

  Nan gave me the “big eyes” look. “Then go get some food. Blake and I are still discussing potential dates for me. And I’m selling him on your good qualities, too.”

  My mouth dropped open. “What?”

  Blake winked at me. “Looks like maybe we’ll all be double dating tomorrow night.”

  “No,” I said firmly. “I have—no.”

  “You run along,” Nan said. “Go get something to eat. This little scamp won’t tell me who the guy he’s picked for me is. I gotta still work on him.”

  “Fine. I’ll be back in a little bit.” I gave her a hard look. “And then we can go!”

  But Nan didn’t answer.

  I pushed away from them and headed back toward the food table in the workroom. Might as well put something good in my stomach. I was almost to the hallway when someone stepped on the back of my heel.

  “Oh, excuse me.”

  I turned to the woman who stepped on me. “It’s okay. Too many people in here.”

  “There sure are,” the painfully thin woman said. “I think I need to go somewhere where there’s not so many people.”

  “Me, too,” I agreed. “Plus I need some food.”

  The woman’s blue eyes looked me up and down. “Just remember not to overdo it with the food. My mother used to always say, ‘A moment on the lips, but a lifetime on the hips.’”

  My mouth dropped open. Talk about rude.

  “And now that’s the Linda Sellars motto.” The woman patted her blonde hair into place then smoothed her hands down her dress.

  My eyes widened. “Oh, the other lady up for the promotion.”

  I groaned when I realized I said it out loud.

  She gave me a tight smile. “Yes. The other woman up for the promotion.”

  “I’m sorry,” I blurted. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry you didn’t get the job.”

  “Well,” Linda Sellars said, “I’m sure Margaret will do just fine in the position.”

  I frowned at her. I may have been tipsy, but I could tell she didn’t mean it. Not that I could blame her. I’d probably be sore too if I lost out on a promotion.

  “Well, you might want to watch yourself,” I told Linda. “Marc’s running around here angry as all get out because he didn’t get the promotion. He’s blaming anyone and everyone for his failure.”

  Linda sighed. “I’m not surprised. He tried to blame me when his presentation glitched. Like I had something to do with it. I told him my IT guy was Cooper Stiles, his was Blake Wellington. If an IT problem occurred, it was probably Blake’s fault.”

  I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Luckily, I didn’t have to say anything because Linda went right on talking.

  “Whereas Marc chooses to yell and rant at others when he’s upset,” Linda said, “I take my aggression out in other ways.”

  I took a step back in surprise.

  Linda laughed maniacally. “I go to four spin classes a week and yoga three times a week. That takes care of my frustration.”

  Why am I not surprised?

  “Well, again, I’m sorry you didn’t get the promotion.” I looked around wildly for an escape.

  “Thank you,” Linda said. “And you have a pleasant rest of the night.”

  I gave her a quick smile. “You, too.”

  I hurried away and told myself I wouldn’t stop again until I hit the food table. I needed sustenance and I needed it now. Turning sideways, I squeezed through the door past two co-workers who thought it would be a good idea to stop there and talk. I’d just grabbed a ham and cheese pinwheel when I heard a commotion by the dessert table.

  It was Margaret…and she looked awful.

  I watched in horror as she teetered back and forth and swayed heavily on her feet. Pitching the pinwheel down, I took off for her. I’d just reached her side and was about to grab her, when her whole body went limp and she crashed to the ground in front of me. Her head smacked against the cement floor with a loud, sickening thud.

  The moment I saw the blood gushing from Margaret’s head, I bent over at the waist and lost what little contents I had in my stomach.

  Chapter 3

  I could hear shouts and screams all around me. Lifting my head, I averted my eyes from Margaret’s body and tried to focus on faces.

  “I just called nine-one-one,” someone shouted.

  “She’s bleeding a lot!” This declaration came from my right side. “I don’t feel a pulse!”

  Tears filled my eyes, and I wiped my mouth with the back of my shaking hand. I needed to pull myself together, but I just couldn’t believe what I had witnessed. There was no way Margaret had lived through that fall…all that blood.

  I felt the room tilt again, and I reached out blindly with my hands.

  “Are you okay?”

  I tried to focus on the face in front of me. I knew this woman. It was the woman who’d complained about my frosting.

  “My name is Teresa Owen,” she said. “Are you okay? Don’t worry about getting sick, someone already cleaned it up. You just focus on breathing.”

  I nodded. “Is Margaret okay?”

  Teresa’s eyes cut to the body on the floor. “I don’t think so, honey. They can’t find a pulse, and she’s bleeding a lot from the head. The ambulance should be here shortly.”

  “What happened?” I whispered.

  Teresa shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. She complained of not feeling well for about twenty minutes, but that’s all. Then suddenly she started wincing and grunting in pain…then down she went.”

  A sob escaped from my throat. I couldn’t help it.

  “What’s going on in here?”

  Patrick Staley barged into the workroom, his voice booming loudly in the now quiet space. The confused shouts and screams had given way to whispers and soft mournful crying. Patrick stopped dead in his tracks when his gaze fell to the floor.

  Cursing, he crouched down next to Margar
et and felt for a pulse. When he didn’t find one, he looked up at me. “What happened here?”

  I didn’t know what to say. “I don’t know, sir. I saw her sway and then fall, hitting her head on the floor. There’s a lot of blood.”

  I said the last part on a whisper. I didn’t want to get sick again in front of everyone.

  “Did someone call for an ambulance?” Patrick demanded.

  “I did, Mr. Staley,” Marc Mallard said smugly.

  “Good,” Patrick said. “I want everyone out of this room. Either stand in the hallway or go out in the main office area. If it gets too crowded out there, Marc, open private offices and sit in there. Everyone needs to be out of this room when the ambulance gets here.”

  “Let me help you,” Teresa said as she guided me around Margaret’s body. “Are you here with someone?”

  Before I could answer, Nan barreled into the room, Blake close on her heels.

  “I’ve asked for everyone to leave this room,” Patrick told Nan. “I need room for the EMTs to get through.”

  “I’m a retired nurse practitioner,” Nan said. “Let me see what’s happened.”

  Nan knelt down by Margaret’s body as Blake put his arms around me and shielded me from the view.

  “It was awful!” I told him. “Margaret just fell over and hit her head on the cement floor.”

  “Let’s go stand in the hallway,” Blake murmured quietly. “Let your Nan handle things until the police and paramedics get here.”

  I let him lead me into the packed hallway to stand next to another guy leaning against the wall. He was in his early thirties, straight brown hair, hazel eyes hidden behind thick glasses, and a body that was in stark contrast to Blake’s. This guy didn’t look like he could lift anything over twenty pounds.

  Blake put his hand on my shoulder. “Amanda, this is Cooper Stiles. He’s another IT guy in the office.”

  “Hello,” I said.

  Cooper smiled at me.

  “Have you heard anything?” Blake asked Cooper.

  Cooper nodded. “I’ve listened to the gossip, and someone said Margaret had complained of not feeling well. Joked about how she probably shouldn’t have eaten all that cake.”

  “Whoa. What?” I said. That was the second time someone mentioned my cake. “What about the cake?”

  Cooper turned to me and frowned slightly. “I’m just repeating what I heard.”

  I tried to smile, but I just couldn’t process what he’d said about my cake. “You said the cake I made for her made her sick?”

  Cooper scowled. “I didn’t know you made it. Also, I’m not saying it. Someone else said that’s what she complained about.”

  “I’m sure it’s nothing, Amanda,” Blake said soothingly. “That’s probably just the last thing she ate and so she related that with her sickness.”

  The paramedics hurried into the workroom, and a few seconds later Nan walked out and strolled over to where we were gathered. “I’m afraid she’s lost too much blood.” Nan frowned. “Something about that just doesn’t sit right with me.”

  I grabbed hold of Nan’s hand and squeezed. “Nan, people are saying there might have been something wrong with the cake I made. Margaret had mentioned she felt sick after she ate it.”

  Nan patted my hand and gave me a placating smile. “Oh, honey, I’m sure that’s nothing.”

  An ear-splitting whistle rang through the hallway. A uniformed cop with a bullhorn stood resolute by the doorway. “We need all party goers to move back into the main area of the office. We also need to get all your names and any information you may have. Let’s go. Move it along.”

  I grabbed Nan’s hand. “I’m really scared.”

  “You’ll be fine,” Nan said. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

  Nan, Blake, and I followed everyone back into the large, main office. I scanned the crowd and looked for Cooper, but I didn’t see him anywhere. I had hoped to question him further about what else he’d heard.

  Thirty minutes later we still leaned against the wall and waited for someone to take our statements.

  “Okay, next.” A different uniformed cop motioned us over to where he stood. “Names?”

  We each gave him our names.

  “And how is it you three came to be here tonight?” the cop asked.

  I glanced down at his name plate on his uniform. Greely. His eyes followed mine.

  “Sorry about that,” Officer Greely said. “It’s been a long night. My name’s Officer Greely, and I’ll be asking you some questions. Now, how is it you three came to be here tonight?”

  Blake informed him he worked at Staley & Thomas, and then I told him the position that I held for two weeks and that Nan was my plus one for the night.

  Officer Greely frowned. “So you worked directly with Ms. Eldemire?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Is Margaret going to be okay?”

  Officer Greely shrugged and continued writing in his notepad. “I have no information on Margaret Eldemire’s condition. But I’m sure the detective will want to speak with you since you worked directly with Ms. Eldemire.”

  I bit my lip to keep from crying. Especially when he said he was sure the detective in charge would want to speak to me personally.

  Chapter 4

  “I hope they don’t frisk us,” Nan said as she drummed her fingertips annoyingly on Margaret’s desk.

  Officer Greely had escorted the three of us into Margaret’s office and told us the detective in charge would be with us shortly. That was twenty minutes ago.

  I was tired, had a massive headache, and just wanted to go home and go to bed. The way Blake paced back and forth, I’d say he was in the same boat.

  “How many weapons do you have on you?” I asked. I wouldn’t be surprised by her answer, I just hope Blake’s heart could take the shock.

  Nan patted down her body. “I’d say only five or six. Maybe seven.”

  Blake stopped pacing and looked incredulously at Nan. “You have six weapons on you? Where? In your purse?”

  Nan grinned and stood. I groaned because I knew this meant Nan would all but strip for Blake. “A couple are in my purse, yes, but most are on my body. I have a derringer strapped to my side. Just unzip the side zipper and unleash!” She pulled back the unzipped material to show Blake before zipping it back up. She then wiggled and squirmed until she had the hem of her mini-dress up to nearly her unmentionable to show him her thigh-strapped knife. “This one takes a little more finesse to get out, unless I want to give everyone a nice little show.”

  Blake’s mouth dropped open, and the blush on his cheeks told me he hadn’t been able to look away fast enough.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t take her anywhere.”

  Ignoring us, Nan went on. “Then I have my jewelry weapons. They aren’t as deadly, but they’ll do in a pinch. Trust me.” She reached up and grabbed hold of her necklace. “This isn’t really a three-inch pendant. See.” She yanked on the bottom of the pendant and out popped a skinny blade. “Then this flower ring here. It’s gaudy, right? Well, it could just save your life. If you pop off the flower, you have a nice little thumbtack-like blade that can cut up a perp’s face if he goes to attack you.”

  She made a lunge toward Blake. Laughing, he held up his hands and backed away.

  Nan dumped out her purse on the table. “Then, of course, I have another bladed knife here.” She held up what looked like a lipstick container, but when she pulled the fake lid off, a four-inch blade emerged. “Plus there’s the normal stuff like mace in here, too.”

  Blake shook his head. “Wow. That’s quite impressive.”

  “That’s nothing. I also have weapons I can keep in my shoes, but even I can’t seem to find a weapon to conceal in these strappy high heels. Plus, I have a couple different palm knives.”

  Blake whistled. “Now I know you have to meet my grandfather.”

  Nan made a rude sound with her mouth. “I already told you…I don’t want no old man.�
��

  “Nan!” I hissed. “Be nice.”

  Blake grinned at me. “It’s okay. Wait until she meets him. Her tune will change.”

  I didn’t want to think of my Nan seeing this man’s grandfather. Mainly because it would mean I’d have to see Blake again at some point, and right now I didn’t think I wanted that. Blake Wellington was not my normal cup of tea.

  The door to Margaret’s office flew open and the detective stormed in. Nan scrambled to put her weapons away as the detective turned and shut the door. His five o’clock shadow was pretty much a thin beard by now, his eyes were bloodshot, and he seemed to have lost his smile about five years ago.

  “My name’s Detective Carlson.” He glanced down at his notepad. “Most of my questions will be for a Miss Adkins.” His hard, gray eyes stared at me. “I assume that’s you?”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything. I was too scared. Blake came and stood behind my chair and slid his hand on my shoulder.

  Detective Carlson led me through a string of questions I’d already answered for Officer Greely. Then he went in for the kill.

  “Did you make the cake that Margaret Eldemire ate prior to her fall?”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes. I told her last week I’d bake her a special cake that was low calorie and low carb so she could enjoy tonight’s party. She’d recently lost forty-five pounds and didn’t want to sabotage her success.”

  I knew I was rambling, but I couldn’t help it.

  Detective Carlson continued to write in his notebook without looking up. “I have countless witness statements saying Margaret had complained of a severe stomach ache from the cake she ate right before she fell.”

  I nodded my head but looked frantically at Nan. She gave me a hard look that said I needed to pull myself together. I swallowed hard. “I’m aware of that, too.”

  “What was in your cake?” Detective Carlson asked.

  I went through my list of ingredients as he continued to write.

  “And what made you decide on pink icing?” Detective Carlson interrupted.