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Merry Buried Christmas

Page 7

by Lyndsey Cole


  Leona intercepted the plate of food for Christy and pulled Annie along with her into the kitchen. “It’s been a long day. I’m going to pack this in a box to go for her. Besides,” Leona lowered her voice, “I don’t think I can stand having her here for another minute.”

  “Good thinking, Leona. I’ll make sure she finishes her eggnog, pack Heather’s stuff back into the bag, and tell her it’s past your bedtime.”

  “Thanks, Annie. By the way, I noticed Camilla’s quick maneuver of hiding the beaded clutch. What was that about?”

  “She likes it and wants to pay Olive for it without waiting for Christy to turn it into some kind of evidence.”

  “Well, as long as it doesn’t come back to haunt Danny.”

  “I don’t see why it would. His mother gave that stuff to Danny. As long as Olive is reimbursed, who cares?”

  Annie carried the box out to Christy. “Here you go. We’re all kind of tired, so you can take this home.”

  Christy grinned. “Not much of a subtle hint for me to get out of your hair.” She opened the box. “Yum.” She chose a meatball and popped it in her mouth.

  Annie picked up Heather’s red bag. She wanted to know what else was inside that they hadn’t looked at yet. It didn’t feel too heavy. She jiggled it and something moved.

  Christy reached across the table and pulled the bag out of Annie’s hands. “Is this the stuff that came out of Heather’s bag?” Her hand waved over the table.

  Annie nodded.

  She shoved it all into the open bag. “I’ll take it off your hands for now. Once I get it inventoried I’ll get it back to you, Danny.”

  Christy zipped the bag closed and slung it over her shoulder. She carefully balanced the box of food in one hand and patted the bulging bag with the other hand. “Thanks for the food and your somewhat reluctant cooperation. I hit the jackpot with this visit.”

  Once Annie heard the front door slam closed, she looked around the room. “There was something else in that bag that we never got to look at.”

  “If it’s important, I’m sure Detective Crank will come back with more questions,” Leona said.

  “But not tonight,” Annie said. “We all need some rest and we can tackle this problem with fresh eyes tomorrow.”

  11

  Quiet, first thing on a cold morning, always seeped straight through Annie’s body. This Saturday was no different.

  The aroma of fresh coffee woke up her brain. She managed to slip from under the warm down comforter, slide her feet into soft slippers, and pad downstairs.

  “You have enough time for coffee before going to the Black Cat Café to get ready for the day. Will Greta be there this morning?” Jason asked, rubbing Annie’s shoulders.

  Annie sat on the kitchen stool, nodded, and cradled her hands around the hot mug of coffee. “Greta has been amazing. I hate to say it, but there’s less drama now than when Leona was running the café. Greta works, tries new recipes to add to our rotation, and has come out of her shell with the customers. I was afraid taking over from Leona would add too much stress to my plate but it hasn’t made much difference.”

  “Do you think Leona is happy with the change she made—buying the Blackbird Bed and Breakfast with Danny?”

  “Yes and no. She wants to help Danny with his dream but I do think she misses the hustle and bustle of the café.” Annie sipped her coffee. “She’s such a people person and the bed and breakfast is a different kind of activity. I suspect she’ll adjust once they finally open and have guests coming and going . . . I hope.”

  “And after all the mess surrounding Heather’s death that got dumped on Danny is smoothed over.” Jason sat next to Annie.

  “And that. He doesn’t handle anything out of his comfort zone very well.” Annie slid off the stool. “Thanks for the coffee. I’m heading to the café a little early. I keep trying to beat Greta to work but she always manages to slip in first and put me to shame.”

  Jason laughed. “Nothing like a dedicated employee. I’ll walk Roxy,” he said as they both looked at the terrier still fast asleep on the couch.

  “She doesn’t like the cold weather, so good luck getting her out the door before it warms up.” Annie bundled up in her warm down jacket, grabbed her bag, and left for the café.

  Annie’s headlights reflected on the dusting of snow, making everything sparkle and twinkle as she drove into Catfish Cove.

  She pulled into the parking lot. Her body made an involuntary shiver when she glanced at the spot where Heather had fallen out of her car the day before. She couldn’t shake two questions—who killed her, and why?

  Loud banging on Annie’s car window the second her engine stopped made her heart flutter and her body tense. This wasn’t how she wanted to start her Sunday morning. She opened her door and stood so she was at least looking down at the shorter woman instead of up from her car seat. “Olive?”

  “Listen, Annie. I don’t want you to think I’ve been waiting here to stalk you or anything like that, but—”

  “But that’s exactly what you’re doing?” Annie felt her lips tighten into a scowl.

  “I guess so.” Olive shoved a piece of paper toward Annie. “I’d rather give this to you so you can get it to Leona or Danny under the, ah, circumstances.”

  Annie ignored the paper. “What circumstances are you talking about?” Annie wasn’t going to make this easy for Olive. And she wasn’t committed to being her messenger, either.

  “You know, Danny’s mother. Even though she’s dead, I still expect to be reimbursed for everything she stole. I don’t think I should have to suffer for what that woman did.”

  Annie crossed her arms over her chest and leaned back against her car. “Oh? Check with the police before you start demanding a payment. Detective Christy Crank has Heather’s belongings. Get your stuff back from her.”

  Olive stuffed her paper in Annie’s jacket pocket. She tilted her head and sneered at Annie. “Under the circumstance, I’m sure Leona doesn’t want any negative publicity with the opening of her new bed and breakfast.” She tilted her head and leveled a snarky smirk at Annie. “I know stuff and I know people who could ruin the Blackbird Bed and Breakfast before it even has a chance to open.”

  Annie smiled. “Threats can work both ways, Olive. I think Detective Christy Crank might be interested to know how angry you are. Maybe even angry enough to have killed Heather Davis over some allegedly stolen clothes?” She let her arms fall to her sides and she leaned so close to Olive’s face that Annie got a whiff of Olive’s morning caffeine breath. It wasn’t pleasant.

  “The paper, Annie. Danny has a lot more to lose than I do. As a matter of fact, you’ve got it backward. Danny was with his mother the morning she was killed. How will that look to the Detective?” Olive sneered.

  “The Detective knows. Danny is cooperating completely with the authorities. He turned over whatever he had of Heather’s, so, like I already told you, go to the police station and demand your stuff back from them.” Annie stared at Olive and couldn’t miss her rapid blinks and twitching lip. “And while you’re there, you’d better explain to Detective Crank how you know Danny was with his mother.”

  “This isn’t over.” Olive managed to throw out the last words in their standoff before she turned and marched to her car.

  “You’re darn right this isn’t over,” Annie said under her breath. She desperately wanted to look at the paper Olive stuffed in her pocket but she wasn’t going to give Olive the satisfaction of seeing her take it out. She stared, unmoving, until Olive’s car was out of sight.

  By now, Greta had parked and disappeared into the Cove’s Corner building. Annie hurried inside, upset that Greta once again managed to beat her to work. Even if it wasn’t Annie’s fault this time.

  Annie should have guessed that something was up when the sound of oldies blasted into the hallway even before she set foot in the Black Cat Café. Leona always listened to oldies while she worked but ever since she’d left to run t
he Blackbird Bed and Breakfast, the music choice had been soft and mellow, not rowdy rock and roll.

  As Annie pulled the café door open, a sweet blueberry muffin aroma filled her nose and made her salivary glands kick into overdrive. But with Leona’s tight-lipped face staring at her, all thoughts of a fresh-from-the-oven, moist muffin left her brain.

  “Leona?” Annie blurted out.

  Leona jammed her fists on her hips. “What? I’m not allowed in my own café?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to see you here this morning.” Annie hung up her coat and bag, giving her a bit of time to organize her thoughts before she stuck her foot in her mouth again. “How’s Danny?”

  Leona’s shoulders slumped as if all the air was suddenly sucked out. “He dropped me off since he needs my car until his truck is repaired. The truth is, I didn’t want to stay at the Blackbird by myself.”

  Annie poured two mugs of coffee and carried them to the counter. She slid one toward Leona and kept the other in front of herself as she sat on a stool. “That makes sense. How about sending a muffin my way. Please?”

  Greta put two warm muffins on plates before she continued stocking the pastry display with eggnog cake, gingerbread cookie bars, pretzel hugs, and brownies with a miniature candy cane on top of each chocolate square.

  Leona sat next to Annie, holding her coffee but ignoring the muffin. “He’s so depressed, I just don’t know what to do. What a mess I made by inviting Heather to come to Catfish Cove.”

  “I’m sure Danny doesn’t blame you, Leona. Your intention was for the right reasons.”

  “That’s exactly what he said, but still . . .”

  “Pull yourself together. Sinking into a funk isn’t going to help Danny. What we have to do is figure out how to get Danny out of this predicament.” Annie reached into her pocket and pulled out the paper Olive had shoved in earlier. “Maybe this will help.”

  Annie smoothed the paper in front of them. “Olive gave me this list of stuff that she insists Heather stole.”

  “Why?” Leona asked. “Don’t tell me she expects me to pay for it.”

  “Um . . . I told her that the police have the items and she can ask them for reimbursement.”

  Leona chuckled. “I am starting to feel better all of a sudden.” She ran her finger down the list and read each item out loud. “One red cashmere sweater-$50. One mostly red silk scarf-$45. One pair of red wool gloves-$20. Two red cotton long sleeve shirts-$30 each. Three pairs of red socks-$5 each.” Leona looked up at Annie and Greta. “Is she out of her mind with these prices? Five dollars for used socks? Can she even sell used socks? That’s disgusting.”

  Greta leaned over Leona’s shoulder. “What else is there?”

  “One pair of blue jeans-$40. And one pair of black leggings-$25. Finally something not red,” Leona said. “And here’s the beaded clutch that Camilla still has.”

  “One beaded clutch-$100,” Greta read, then lifted her eyes to Leona. “Why does Camilla have it?”

  “She couldn’t resist.” Annie said before Leona had a chance to respond. “I suppose she’ll try to pay Olive for it at some point. But after how she basically threatened me this morning, I’m not sure if I even care what Camilla decides to do.”

  “She threatened you?” Leona swiveled the stool so she was facing Annie. “She will have to go through me to get to you.”

  Annie wished she could put her words back in her mouth but it was too late for that. “Actually, the threat was directed at the Blackbird Bed and Breakfast. She thinks she can ruin your business if you don’t repay her for Heather’s sticky fingers.”

  “Come on, Annie.” Leona pulled her off the stool. “We need to make a visit to the Gently Used Boutique. Olive Morgan has no idea who she is messing with.”

  Annie took one last slug of her coffee and grabbed her blueberry muffin before she looked at Greta. “I’ll be back,” she said, but had no idea when.

  12

  Annie stuffed the muffin in her mouth so she had both hands free to pull her jacket on. Leona was already out the café door and halfway down the hallway toward the building’s exit.

  By the time Annie caught up with Leona, she could hear her mumbling, “If she thinks she’ll hurt our business, she’s got a war on her hands.”

  “Slow down, Leona.” Annie grabbed her arm. “Let’s think this through before we barge into Olive’s store. We don’t want to make matters worse than they already are.”

  “Seriously, Annie? You think things could get worse? I invite Danny’s mother to town and the next thing that happens is she’s murdered with a trail of looting behind her. How can things get any worse than that?”

  Annie had the sense to keep her mouth shut even though there were several ideas running wild in her brain. The worst, of course, was that Danny was charged with Heather’s murder. It wasn’t out of the question that there could be enough evidence pointing right at him, but Annie certainly wasn’t going to say that out loud to Leona.

  As they walked to Main Street, Leona’s pace slowed slightly. “What should I say to her?”

  “Good question. How about you act like you sympathize but your hands are tied until Detective Crank releases the items back to Danny. That’s vague and might buy us a little time.”

  Leona nodded. “Sympathize . . . buy some time . . . got it.”

  The closed sign hung in the door of the Gently Used Boutique.

  “What do we do now?” Leona asked Annie.

  Annie cupped her hands around her face and peered inside. “I see Olive inside. Try the door.”

  The door turned and Leona pushed it open. Of course, when the little bell jingled their presence, Olive Morgan looked at Leona and pointed her finger. “I’m not open yet. How dare you step into my shop? Are you planning to steal clothes right from under my nose to add to Heather’s collection?”

  Leona marched right up to Olive, towering over the shorter woman. “You slimy little liar. I saw those prices you claim someone owes you for clothes Heather allegedly stole. You’re trying to rip me off. Those prices are higher than buying new.”

  “Well, well, I have overhead expenses involved and items that weren’t even for sale that she stole. I had to figure in those loses, too.” Olive backed away from Leona’s fury.

  Leona stepped right along with Olive’s retreat. “And you threatened Annie?”

  Olive’s mouth fell open. “I did not threaten Annie. I only mentioned that if word got out about Danny’s mother’s sticky fingers, it might be bad for your new business. I have angry consignees to worry about. They want to be paid for the items they entrusted with me. I can’t absorb a big loss.”

  Leona looked around the shop. “How can you even be sure Heather stole everything on that list? Maybe there’s another thief in town and Heather was a convenient target to blame. You have a young woman who works for you. Maybe she walked out with stuff. Did you think of that? Are you always in here keeping your eagle eye on exactly what she does?”

  The door jingled and Liz, Olive’s employee, sauntered in like she didn’t have a care in the world. “Mornin’, Ms. Morgan,” her peppy voice rang out in greeting. “Got new clothes for me to process?”

  While Olive tried, unsuccessfully, to wipe the scowl off her face, Leona and Annie meandered around the store. They checked price tags, gasped, and stopped in the far corner. Annie whispered to Leona, “Her prices are ridiculous. By the way, good thinking to ask her if Liz could have stolen the stuff.”

  “Or anyone else who came in here. Granted, some of the items were in Heather’s bag, but not everything.”

  “Right. And how can she prove Heather didn’t pay for what she did have in her bag?”

  “Do you think she’s trying to get paid twice?” Leona said. “Let’s get out of here. She’ll never get one penny from me for those items—that’s a promise.”

  As they approached the door, Liz’s voice rang out, “Hey, Ms. Morgan? Where’s my beaded
clutch that I let you borrow for your window display?”

  “Oh, Liz, I don’t know.” Olive glanced at Leona and Annie.

  “You didn’t sell it, did you?” Liz knelt down and pushed clothes away from the window as she searched on the floor.

  “Of course not, Liz. I’m sure someone picked it up and moved it to another spot. I’ll keep my eye out for it. How about you head into the back for now and start sorting the new items. I just got in a big bag of beautiful Christmas sweaters.”

  Olive rushed over to Leona as soon as Liz was out of earshot. “Does Detective Crank have that beaded clutch? It belonged to Liz and I’ve got to get it back for her.”

  Leona crossed her arms over her chest. “Olive, take up your problem with Detective Crank. She has Heather’s stuff at the police station.” Annie pulled Leona closer to the door, hoping to get her out before Leona had a chance to say anything to make matters worse.

  “Oh, Annie, look at this dress.” Leona pulled a mid-calf, sapphire blue, slinky dress off the rack closest to them. “It jumped right out at me and said ‘try me on!’ We can’t leave yet.”

  Annie looked at the tag—$75; size 6. “Look at the price, Leona, and it’s not even your size. Let’s get out of here.”

  Leona waved her hand as if money or size couldn’t matter less “Come on. I want you to tell me how it looks.”

  Olive scowled but said nothing.

  Annie and Leona crowded into the tiny dressing room. “What are you thinking?” Annie hissed. “You don’t need that dress.”

  “Of course I don’t, but you do. You need something stunning to wear as my bridesmaid. As much as I hate to give Olive my business, where else will you be able to find such a beautiful dress by Christmas Eve?” Leona held the dress up in front of Annie.

  Annie let her hand run over the smooth fabric. “It is gorgeous.”

  “And Jason won’t be able to take his eyes off of you,” Leona added.

  “He can’t anyway.” Annie grinned.

 

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