by Liz Mugavero
HO HO HOMICIDE
“What’s going on?” Stan asked.
Tony shook his head, his face grim. “Something’s wrong with Santa.”
They both looked at the sleigh. Stan caught a glimpse of the bright red coat from the Santa costume, but Santa himself wasn’t budging.
“Is that why you did the lighting so fast?” Stan asked.
Tony nodded. “Amara jumped out and let us know there was a problem. We didn’t want to call attention to it in front of all the children.” He looked at the crowd still dispersing. There were a few people hanging around, still hoping for a glimpse of the elusive Santa Claus. “So we got him out of everyone’s line of sight and lit the tree.”
Stan looked at the unmoving red blob in the sleigh, then her eyes traveled to where Amara stood a few feet away from the crowd, looking ill. Ted Brahm spoke quietly to her. “Are you sure something’s wrong and this isn’t some kind of joke? I mean, doesn’t Seamus like pranks?” She’d heard all about Seamus McGee’s unique sense of humor. His family enjoyed telling the tales.
“If this is a prank, it’s a really good one,” Tony said. “Because when I felt for a pulse, I couldn’t find one …”
Books by Liz Mugavero
KNEADING TO DIE
A BISCUIT, A CASKET
THE ICING ON THE CORPSE
MURDER MOST FINICKY
CUSTOM BAKED MURDER
PURRING AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE
Published by Kensington Publishing Corporation
PURRING AROUND THE CHRISTMAS TREE
LIZ MUGAVERO
KENSINGTON PUBLISHING
www.kensingtonbooks.com
All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.
Table of Contents
HO HO HOMICIDE
Books by Liz Mugavero
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three
Chapter Forty-four
Chapter Forty-five
Chapter Forty-six
Chapter Forty-seven
Chapter Forty-eight
Chapter Forty-nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-one
Chapter Fifty-two
Chapter Fifty-three
Chapter Fifty-four
Chapter Fifty-five
Recipes
Acknowledgments
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2017 by Liz Mugavero
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-1-4967-0021-6
eISBN-13: 978-1-4967-0022-3
eISBN-10: 1-4967-002-8
For the Wicked Cozy Authors—my partners in crime, sisters and the best friends a girl could ask for.
Chapter One
The whole night could’ve been straight from a Norman Rockwell painting, if only Santa hadn’t dropped dead in his sleigh as he rode up to light the Frog Ledge Christmas tree.
Before that happened, it had been almost magical. The kind of holiday scene from a movie or TV show. A few inches of snow set the scene for the picturesque Connecticut town, adding just enough atmosphere without making it difficult to get around. White holiday lights framed the green and continued down Main Street, illuminating the Christmas wreaths perched atop the streetlights. Children and dogs scrambled through the snow joyously as they often did in the special days preceding Christmas, when snow seemed miraculous rather than a burden.
Townspeople packed the streets, the town green, and the area in front of the library where the town Christmas tree stood, adorned with lights, proudly waiting for the switch to flip. Good cheer permeated the air. The festive mood was contagious, and how could it not be? Christmas carols played from the speakers outside of town hall, and red bows adorned the town center landmarks.
Stan Connor watched the scene with a smile on her nearly-frozen face. It was way too cold to be outdoors—so cold she had her warmest wool pom-pom hat covering her long blond hair and a scarf wrapped around her face—but she still wouldn’t miss this night. In years past, the Christmas season had buzzed by her almost without notice as she went about her busy life. She didn’t even know if her old town had a Christmas celebration like this one, never mind attended one herself and been happy about it.
But in her new town—her new life—everything was different. In Frog Ledge, population barely anyone, residents had an obligation to partake in festivities. And that didn’t mean simply Christmas or Halloween. It encompassed lesser-known events like National Dance Like a Chicken Day, and old favorites like Groundhog Day. It was … quaint. And usually enjoyable. Stan had moved fairly quickly from thinking it was all weird to jumping in with both feet in the year and a half she’d lived here.
“This is very exciting,” the woman next to her said, leaning over so Stan caught a whiff of some fruity perfume. “Isn’t it? I’m so proud of my Seamus for doing this every year.” Vivian O’Sullivan, affectionately known as Miss Viv around town, had been Seamus McGee’s seasonal love interest since the two were in high school some forty-five years ago. Part of the Frog Ledge McGee family—which included Stan’s boyfriend, Jake—Seamus only came to town a few times a year, but always at Christmas to take on the starring role as Santa. He spent the rest of his time in Ireland, and quite possibly elsewhere. No one seemed really sure.
Miss Viv adjusted her faux-fur wrap and beamed, squeezing Stan’s hand. “Christmas is my favorite time of year.”
“It’s wonderful,” Stan agreed.
Miss Viv nodded, stealing a glance at the woman on the
other side of her before sliding a hand through her arm. “Come on, Victoria,” she said. “You have to admit this is fun.” When she got no response, she winked at Stan. “My sister is such an uptight Yankee.”
Victoria O’Sullivan didn’t look as enamored as her sister with the scene of small-town Christmas bliss. Maybe she was simply cold, but she seemed incredibly stiff. Her jaw had a set quality to it that conveyed a lack of interest in participating in the obligatory small talk that filled a night like this. She had brown hair—clearly a dye job—cut into a severe bob that landed at her chin line. Her short bangs barely touched the middle of her forehead, giving her a stern, substitute teacher look. The wire-rimmed glasses she kept pushing higher on her nose added to the look. Her face was devoid of any makeup.
“It’s wonderful,” she said, but her tone suggested she’d rather be strung up by her hair on the town green. “I’m going to go get a cup of coffee in the library.” She slipped away into the crowd.
Miss Viv—seemingly the polar opposite of her sister with her long, flowing, silver hair, glittery green eyeliner and way too much mascara—shook her head affectionately, watching Victoria carefully make her way across the parking lot. “My poor sister. She’s never been one to let herself have much fun. She hates the cold, for one thing. And she’s been so down lately. I wish I could help her more.”
Stan only knew Miss Viv through small talk, and she didn’t know Victoria at all to comment. But since she was basically part of Jake’s family, they’d all ended up standing out here together with a front-row view of Santa’s arrival—Jake’s parents, sisters, cousins, and a gaggle of aunts and uncles who were in town for the annual McGee holiday festivities. Everyone except for Jake, who’d been part of the crew hanging the lights earlier in the day and was now at his pub, McSwigg’s, preparing for the onslaught of revelers who’d want a hot Irish coffee to warm their bones after being out in the cold.
And there would be an onslaught, both at the pub and all the local businesses. It was one reason why this tree lighting and holiday stroll was so important, especially as the town had grown and evolved and new businesses had taken root. Folks from neighboring towns who didn’t have a holiday celebration like Frog Ledge’s would come over to enjoy the evening. The shops in town were open all evening with specials and refreshments. Some, like Stan’s new Pawsitively Organic Pet Patisserie, were having extra special activities. She’d timed the grand opening of her new pet bakery to coincide with this weekend. Tonight was her soft opening, and tomorrow was the all-day main event. She couldn’t wait.
Stan had asked Santa to come and have his photo taken with the town pets once he was done with his tree lighting duties, and Seamus jovially agreed. Stan had taken full advantage of the advertising opportunities, and she knew many townspeople, including her new-to-town sister, Caitlyn, and her fiancé, were looking forward to bringing their dogs.
But before they could get to that portion of the evening the tree had to be lit, the signature activity signifying the official start of the holiday season. This year, the new planning committee—which included Stan, against her better judgment—wanted to make a splash with Santa’s entrance. In the past, he’d arrived on a fire truck.
“Booooring.” Betty Meany, the executive director of the Frog Ledge Library and new head of the committee, had yawned at the first meeting. “We need to shake things up this year.”
So “shaking things up” ultimately translated to creating a custom sleigh for Santa to ride in on. Emmalee Hoffman, a local dairy farmer, came up with the idea. The committee jumped on it. One of Jake’s bartenders, who dabbled in woodworking, offered to make the sleigh. Emmalee’s new husband, Ted Brahm, volunteered to tow it behind one of his snowmobiles. The plan was to pull the sleigh containing Santa and his elf across the town green as people lined up to watch its arrival, then coast across the street to the town hall and land in front of the tree, where Mayor Tony Falco and Santa would flip the switch together while the Frog Ledge Elementary School choir sang Christmas carols.
But, like most things in life, it didn’t go as planned.
Stan missed the first cue, despite her position at the front of the crowd. She’d been busy fixing Scruffy’s elf collar, an adornment her schnoodle didn’t especially love, but tolerated. So Stan didn’t see the exact moment Ted’s snowmobile skidded to a stop, perfectly positioning his gorgeous sleigh right next to the mayor so Santa could disembark gracefully and flip the switch. Which meant she didn’t see Santa’s elf—Amara Leonard, Stan’s neighbor and the owner of Frog Ledge’s specialty veterinary practice—leap from the sleigh in a panic.
The next thing she saw was the sleigh moving again, this time to a position behind the tree. Then the Christmas carols stopped abruptly and Tony Falco’s voice rang out over the intercom system. “Okay, everyone! Three, two, one! Merry Christmas!” Then the tree bloomed bright with white lights, before anyone had even properly prepared for it.
There was a moment’s pause while everyone tried to catch up, then a few people cheered, which started a trend. Stan joined in the clapping, but something felt strange.
“Now go walk around town, visit the stores, and get some hot cider to warm up,” Tony’s voice continued. “We know how cold it is out here. Thanks for celebrating with all of us in Frog Ledge!” The intercom crackled and went silent.
Next to her, Miss Viv frowned. “What’s going on? Why didn’t Santa come out and greet everyone?”
“I have no idea. That did seem kind of fast.” Stan pulled her scarf away from her face and tried to see what was going on with the small crowd around the sleigh, but she couldn’t see past the newly lit tree. A couple of people in the crowd were calling for Santa, but their chant wasn’t picking up steam. Everyone else had already moved on to the next thing—food and warm beverages, most likely—and were flocking toward the stores and food establishments on Main Street.
Just as Stan started to walk toward the crowd, she saw Tony step away from the group. His cell phone was pressed to his ear. She clearly heard him say, “We need an ambulance at the town hall. For Santa.”
Every hair on the back of her neck stood up. She glanced at Miss Viv to see if she’d heard. She hadn’t. Her hands nervously tugged on her wrap, eyes scanning the scene in front of her, but she gave no indication she knew anything was wrong.
“I’ll be right back,” Stan murmured, squeezing her hand, and started toward Tony. Miss Viv nodded anxiously.
She and Scruffy reached Tony just as he’d ended the call. “What’s going on?”
He shook his head, his face grim. “Something’s wrong with Santa.”
They both looked at the sleigh. Stan caught a glimpse of the bright red coat from the Santa costume, but Santa himself wasn’t budging.
“Is that why you did the lighting so fast?” Stan asked.
Tony nodded. “Amara jumped out and let us know there was a problem. We didn’t want to call attention to it in front of all the children.” He looked at the crowd still dispersing. There were a few people hanging around, still hoping for a glimpse of the elusive Santa Claus. “So we got him out of everyone’s line of sight and lit the tree.”
Stan looked at the unmoving red blob in the sleigh, then her eyes traveled to where Amara stood a few feet away from the crowd, looking ill. Ted Brahm spoke quietly to her. “Are you sure something’s wrong and this isn’t some kind of joke? I mean, doesn’t Seamus like pranks?” She’d heard all about Seamus McGee’s unique sense of humor. His family enjoyed telling the tales.
“If this is a prank, it’s a really good one,” Tony said. “Because when I felt for a pulse, I couldn’t find one.”
Stan gaped at him. “You mean …”
“What the heck is going on?”
They both turned as Sergeant Jessie Pasquale, Jake’s sister and the town’s resident state trooper, rushed up. It had been her night off, so she was dressed in jeans, UGGs and a puffy black parka. Her long red hair was stuffed under a hat. She’d ob
viously been alerted either by the 911 call, or simply the odd nature of the celebration.
Tony waved helplessly in the direction of the sleigh. Jessie marched over, looking for all the world like she was about to give her uncle a good talking to. Stan held her breath as she watched the scene unfold in slow motion: Jessie reaching in to grab Santa and haul him up by the arm. Amara and Ted watching from a distance, Amara’s hands covering her mouth. Everyone held their breath, waiting for his eyes to pop open, shining with amusement. But when Jessie loosened her grasp, Santa simply slid back into the curve of the sleigh, his head flopping forward.
He didn’t move at all.
Chapter Two
Stan hadn’t realized Miss Viv was next to her until she began to scream, a loud, keening sound that jolted anyone within hearing distance into a state of panic.
“What’s wrong with my Seamus?” she cried, grabbing Stan’s arm, her long fingernails penetrating Stan’s coat to dig into her flesh.
Stan looked around for help before Miss Viv alerted the whole town that there was a serious problem. Liam, Seamus’s older son, noticed the commotion and came over. “What’s going on? Is everything okay?” He huddled inside a leather jacket that barely looked warm enough for the cold night.
