Cozy Christmas Shorts

by Halliday, Gemma

  "I just wondered why you had to work two jobs? I mean, now that I'm out of school for the holiday break, I wanted to spend more time with you." She looked down at her feet sheepishly.

  I tugged on one of her new braids. "I told you that this second job is just temporary. I'll be done with it in a few more days. Remember? I took it so that I could make a little more money to buy you some nice things for Christmas. I just don't make enough at the wrecker company."

  She lifted up the corner of her mouth with an inkling of a smile. "Do you think I can get a real tiara?"

  I laughed. "We'll just have to see, won't we?"

  She gave me a quick hug and then ran ahead to Ms. Lanier's screen door and entered the house without knocking. I followed suit—totally unprepared for what I would find on the other side of the door.

  * * *

  "What is all this?" I stared at the kitchen table covered end to end with a full blown holiday meal. There was steaming roast beef covered in potatoes, carrots, and onions. There was corn on the cob and green bean casserole. There was a pumpkin pie, a pecan pie, and a Chess cake. I was in hog heaven, but I was afraid. Very afraid.

  "This is great. I'm starved," Paget said in a sing-song voice and then started loading up a plate, moving down the table in serving line fashion.

  "Ms. Lanier, you're not bribing me, are you?" The thought entered my mind and zipped out of my mouth before I could stop myself.

  "Who? Me?" She touched her chest with a small, wrinkled hand and looked aghast.

  A "tsk-tsk" sound erupted from the living room, and I turned to see my aunt's oldest and most stylish friend, Ms. Maimie Rogers, standing next to a gigantic white, dry erase board.

  "Mandy, don't be silly. She's not trying to win your vote for the decorating competition—we decided to stop competing the year that Verna Strength won her third consecutive trophy and we discovered that she'd been sleeping with the church commissioner. There is just no competing with that kind of bribery. Have you seen the commish?"

  A small gagging sound erupted from Ms. Lanier's throat, but I couldn't take my eyes off the large board with hand written names that were incidentally the exact names of the people who'd just been gracing my front porch with gifts and foods over the last couple of hours.

  "But what is all this about? Why are all these people written on this board, and what are ya'll up to?"

  Ms. Lanier popped my backside with her rolled up kitchen towel, and I jumped.

  "Get in there and fix a plate, Mandy. We've got to get through this list tonight, and we've got no time to waste. The displays start tomorrow, and your judging forms are due in by tomorrow night."

  My stomach grumbled at the mention of eating. That tiny snack of a BLT sandwich was long gone by now, and Ms. Lanier knew that there was only one way to truly get me moving, and that was through a truly great home cooked meal.

  I did as she instructed but still wasn't quite sure what these two had planned.

  "Are you going to help me judge the houses? And why is this enormous board set up?" I asked as I snagged a puffy yeast roll and slathered it with butter.

  I didn't miss the exchange of eye contact between the two. I stopped and watched them. They were definitely up to something. I just couldn't quite figure it out.

  "Might as well tell her, Maimie."

  Ms. Maimie nodded and then slipped on her cat-eye shaped reading glasses and began reading the names off the list.

  "The three that I believe we really have to focus on are Jenson Davies, Parker Caldwell, and Coach Mulder, but we can't rule out any of these others just yet."

  I envisioned my temporary boss Coach Mulder and could almost hear his spitting sound as he sent yet another stream of disgusting tobacco juice to the ground in his wake. I grimaced at the image. It was almost enough to put me off my appetite. Almost.

  I took a huge bite of corn on the cob and then licked the excess butter off my lips. "So are those the folks who have the best lights to look at?"

  Ms. Lanier let out a bark of laughter. "Honey, those are the three who wanted Verna Strength dead."

  CHAPTER FIVE

  "If excuses were gooses, we'd all have a Merry Christmas." —Mandy's favorite quote from Aunt Patty.

  Between bites of corn, it had suddenly become clear to me that the board contained not a list of competitors but suspects in the death of Verna Strength.

  "No. Oh, no you don't. Nuh-uh. No way. Nada. Zilch. Forget it." I shook my head as I sank into a kitchen chair.

  "Mandy. Don't be so disagreeable. You know you did such a great job with that whole dead body in the freezer case over the summer. This is much easier. I mean, we know who the body belongs to, and we know the motive. Now all we need is opportunity. And that's what we have the board here for. We are gonna hash this sucker out while we stuff ourselves with food. I know how you think better on a full stomach." Ms. Lanier's words came out in a rush. She finally paused for a much needed breath.

  Ms. Maimie chimed in as I paused my disagreement to stuff my mouth with a bite of roast beef. "Yeah, Mandy. It will be just like last time, but we'll skip a few steps in between and just get to the solution. We don't have time for too much investigating. The competition is tomorrow night."

  I swallowed down the meat and chased it with a bite of roll—well half the roll really—and managed to help it clear my throat by taking a large swig of iced tea. I glanced over at Paget who was curled up on the sofa watching a home shopping channel and eating her food as if all was right with the world.

  "First of all…we don't even know that a crime was committed. Ty is still checking into Ms. Strength's death. For all we know it may not even be a homicide."

  "Yes. I'm afraid it is, dear." Ms. Lanier joined me at the table. As she sat down, I noticed the frailty of her movements. Had she just started moving so slowly or was I just now noticing? I tried to shrug off the worry as soon as it started to creep up my spine. I simply couldn't consider losing another person I cared about again so soon. I, like Paget, was still reeling from the loss of Aunt Patty.

  "So, Ty told you that it was murder?" I remembered that Sundae had come over to watch Paget because Ms. Lanier had been called down to the station earlier that afternoon.

  She looked down at her fingernails as they clicked on the table top and then back up at me. "Well, he didn't say that exactly…but…"

  "Wait." I held out my hand, palm facing her in a signal to stop. "I don't want to know. I want to stay out of it. I'm trying to just keep my nose out of other people's business and do my job. Or jobs."

  "Well, that's where we need you in play, dear. You are working for that ornery old Coach Mulder, and he had a real bone to pick with Verna Strength. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't come storming into her house and threaten her. Poor old bat wouldn't have stood a chance with that ogre." Ms. Maimie took the reins and tried to steer me back to their ongoing investigation.

  "That's right," Ms. Lanier perked up. "If you'll just check into Coach Mulder's whereabouts and so forth…we will check into the other two. We think we have it narrowed down, and we don't have much time. We need to just get this settled before the ballots are tallied tomorrow night. We can't have a murderer win the trophy—it just wouldn't be right."

  I took a deep breath and blew it out of my temporarily empty mouth. Slow deep breaths.

  "Ladies. I don't want to get involved. Let's let Ty handle this. I've got enough problems. My house looks like a bakery on steroids and a funeral home running a special on coffin flowers. I'm absolutely overrun with gifts from these folks who are entering the contest. I just want to get done with this Glitter Queen thing and get back to my life. I want Paget and me to have a nice, calm Christmas."

  "We want that too, sweetie. That's why we've created The Hoots." Ms. Maimie said as she spun her eye glasses around in one hand by the stem.

  Ms. Lanier clapped her hands together and let out a "woot woot" sound. "Yep, the old Hoots are on the case. We will solve this in time for the
festival, and it will be a merry Christmas for all."

  "The who—Hoots?" I stuttered.

  "Yep, we are wise old owls, baby." Ms. Maimie countered with a "woot woot" of her own.

  I blinked slowly. The deep breathing was no longer doing the trick.

  * * *

  One hour and an over-full belly later, I left with an assignment and a load of turmoil roiling in my brain.

  It had only been a few short months since I'd found myself accidentally in the middle of a case that shook the town to its core. All that drama had led to me losing a job, nearly losing my life, and losing track of my sister more than once.

  I was not eager to go down that particular rabbit hole again. In fact, I'd promised both myself and my high school friend turned boyfriend turned enemy turned sort-of-friend-again who I still had the sort-of hots for again, Captain Ty Dempsey of the Millbrook Police Department. He'd made me promise that I'd keep out of any sort of local drama—as if that was possible. Or, at a minimum that I'd stay out of anything "police business related."

  Of course, in Millbrook drama seemed to follow me around. That had been the case while growing up here, and it was turning out to be same-old-same-old since my recent return.

  I drove Stella through town with the top down and the radio murmuring to me on minimum volume. I was not looking forward to my evening shift at the tree farm. Another night with my boss and various townies coming in for trees, decorations, and the latest gossip. Not really my cup of peppermint tea.

  Now that I'd been named the Glitter Queen, I feared that tonight would bring even more drama as the overly passionate entrants vied for my attention before the voting occurred tomorrow night.

  I pulled into the lot and noticed that it was already packed with cars and trucks. Various makes and models were represented, and the sound of blaring Christmas songs greeted my ears as soon as my tires ground to a halt on the gravel-covered parking lot.

  I lay my head back on the headrest and tried that deep breathing thing again. Somehow, I'd left Ms. Lanier's house only after making a promise to try to question my boss about his whereabouts last night.

  I hadn't wanted to agree to this amateur detective work, but Ms. Lanier hadn't played fair. She'd had the audacity to hold the pumpkin pie hostage until I agreed to do the Hoots' dirty work.

  Apparently, Ty hadn't yet concluded the cause of death on poor Ms. Strength, or at least he hadn't decided to share that information with Ms. Lanier during her official report visit earlier today. Either way, the Hoots were absolutely convinced that foul play was the story of the day.

  Ty had let it slip that Dr. C. had determined Ms. Strength had died within the last twenty four hours. A fact that I'd also deduced this morning after seeing the body and briefly checking for signs of life.

  Our oldest family friend and the love of my Aunt Patty's life was Dr. David Cavello, and he'd recently taken up the job of County Coroner. It was a thankless job that was actually an elected position. But, he'd volunteered to complete the term left vacant after the death of Mr. Rideout—the former coroner and founder of Rideout's Funeral Home.

  The mention of Dr. C. reminded me that I owed him a visit and a dinner.

  "Well, Mandy Murrin! Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?" Tate Dempsey's voice reached my ears, and the smoky drawl was unmistakable.

  I smiled up at Ty and Penny's father as he opened my car door to allow my exit.

  "Mr. Dempsey, what brings you down to the farm? I thought Penny said she'd set you up earlier this week already."

  "Oh, she did. And now I'm back for more. You know, word is out that Verna Strength is out of the running, and I'd love to win that trophy. Have any advice for me?"

  I'd known his hospitality was too good to be true. This man had never been a fan of mine, and now it was only that he wanted my vote that he was going out of his way to greet me with such pleasantries.

  I grabbed my bag and shoved my keys into my jeans' pocket.

  "No, sir. I have no advice. I'll just make my rounds and fill out the forms and turn them in. Believe me—I'll be doing the minimum required for this job. I didn't exactly sign up for it." I tried a pleasant grin, but it felt more like my teeth were gritting together instead.

  "Okay. Okay. So that's the way you're gonna be, huh? Any chance Ty can persuade you to give us a closer look out at Harm's Way? I'd be happy to call and set up a dinner with him."

  I let out a small laugh, but behind it my stomach twisted into a knot, and that roast beef was pawing my insides like a Pamplona bull. Why had both Mr. Dempsey and Penny suggested a dinner with Ty? Both of them were pushing me to see him again when they seemed like the last people on earth who'd want us to fan our old flames.

  The question deserved more thought, but I knew now wasn't the time or place.

  "Are you gonna get in here and help me out, or am I paying you to stand around the parking lot and make faces?"

  The voice of Coach Mulder thankfully interrupted my conversation with Mr. Dempsey, and I shrugged at him as I used that moment to escape his not-so-subtle attempt at persuasion.

  The people of this town had turned into vicious competitors for this trophy. I didn't remember it being quite this bad before. Seems like Verna Strength's death might turn out to be suspicious after all.

  That very thought was crossing my mind when I heard the sirens of a police car, and then I saw two cruisers pull into the lot, stirring up a wake of dust. I placed my arm over my nose and mouth to block the assault.

  Captain Dempsey and Officer Prentiss stepped out of their cruisers in sync and headed our way. A little pitter-patter of hoof beats trampled through my stomach, and the blob of pumpkin pie seemed to ease its way back up my esophagus. The officers did not look happy, and they were heading my way.

  CHAPTER SIX

  "Smockin' around the Christmas tree." —A Millbrook Christmas Carol

  Ty tipped his cowboy hat at me and gave his father a nod before turning his attention to Coach Mulder.

  "Coach, I'm going to need to take you down to the station for a chat."

  Coach responded by spitting onto the ground, just a little too close to Stella's shiny hubcaps for my comfort.

  "Is that right? You could have just called and asked me to come by."

  I had to agree with Coach on this one. The two police cruisers with lights and sirens were a bit over the top. I opened my mouth to say as much, but a sideward glance from Ty stopped my voice before it erupted.

  "Well, nonetheless, we need to have a bit of a talk, and I'd like you to take a ride with us right now."

  Coach looked over his shoulder. The crowd had stopped their shopping and were now gathered around the edge of the tent, trying to listen in to the ongoing police matter.

  "I can cover things here, Coach." My voice sounded cheerier than I'd intended, and the Coach gave me a squinted-eye glare in response.

  He knew that I didn't really enjoy working with him and that I didn't haggle for the price of trees like he'd trained me to do. I doubted he'd hire me back next year.

  "I'll hang around and help her out, Coach," Tate Dempsey offered. Now my eyes were squinted, and I saw Ty stifle a small grin.

  "Well, I guess that'd be okay. What is it that you need to chat about anyway? What's so darned urgent?"

  We all turned in unison to wait for Ty's response. He seemed to notice the crowd for the first time.

  "Let's just go to my office and talk there, Coach. I don't like to feed the gossip hounds any more than necessary."

  Coach Mulder shrugged. "I don't have any secrets. What is it, Ty?"

  Ty and Officer Prentiss exchanged a look, and then Ty placed one hand on his hip just above his gun holster. My heart beat a little faster.

  "We found the letter you wrote to Verna Strength. The one where you threatened her life."

  A gasp followed by multiple voices in frantic whispers gathered speed behind us.

  "I think you're gonna need a lawyer, Coach," Tate Dempsey offered. He wa
s full of helpful suggestions tonight it seemed.

  That's when I noticed the Coach's face. Even in the dimly lit parking lot, I saw something I'd never seen before. There was a tear running down his haggard face. Mean old Coach Mulder was crying.

  * * *

  My evening shift at What's-Worth Tree Farm was full of nosy customers and last minute decoration shoppers. I stayed away from gossiping about Coach Mulder and dreaded going back to the Hoots with the revelation that I'd failed to chat with him before he'd been nabbed by the cops.

  Of course, the good news was that maybe the case would be solved easily. Although usually that wasn't the case around here. And the whole thing was more than a little sad. We'd thought that Ms. Strength's death might have been an accident, but could it have really been a murder? And would Coach Mulder have killed her over an ornamental trophy given for simple decorations?

  After my shift I returned home with an aching back and a new appetite. I stood at the refrigerator door staring in at all the bribery goodies that had been left for me earlier. How would I choose a winner? Well, that was something to worry about tomorrow. For now I just needed to choose a late night snack.

  Paget had decided to sleep over at Ms. Lanier's house after dinner, and I had only Pickles to keep me company tonight. I looked down at him, and he gave me the puppy-dog-eyed stare as I perused our choices.

  "Should I have some divinity?" He barked.

  "Or some chocolate covered peanut butter balls?" He barked.

  "Or some candy cane bark?" He barked.

  "Or some roasted pecans?" He barked.

  "Or…some turkey jerky?" He barked twice.

  I laughed. "Turkey jerky for you it is." I pulled some out of the Ziploc and broke it into pieces for him in his bowl. He turned his back on me and began chowing down.