by P. Creeden
Death by Figgy Pudding
The 12 Mysteries of Christmas, Book 10
P. Creeden
Contents
THE 12 MYSTERIES OF CHRISTMAS series:
Death by Figgy Pudding
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Merry without Malice
8. Chapter Preview
Murder on New Years Eve
9. Chapter Preview
About the Author
THE 12 MYSTERIES OF CHRISTMAS series:
IN THE NICK OF TIME by Susette Williams
GABRIEL’S SECRET by Alexa Verde
GUARDING CANDY KANE by V.B. Tenery
MURDER: UP ON THE ROOFTOP by Lilly York
TIDINGS OF JOY by Susette Williams
HOLLY IN HIDING by P. Creeden
STARR WITNESS by Susette Williams
NOELLE ON THE RUN by Alexa Verde
GOLDEN BELLES ARE WRINGING by Gina Conroy
DEATH BY FIGGY PUDDING by P. Creeden
SWEET REVENGE by Lilly York
MERRY WITHOUT MALICE by P. Creeden
Death by Figgy Pudding © 2018 P. Creeden
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Death by Figgy Pudding
Figgy always tried to keep politics out of her life, but when her husband decided to run for town mayor, things got a little bit tricky. Her grandson got in a fight at school over it, and her granddaughter doesn't want to admit that Figgy's her grandma. So, when they all come together as a family on Christmas Eve to go on a sleigh ride, with her best friend, Merry, and grandchildren, they are shocked when they find a body in their path. Together, Figgy and Merry find clues to help Merry's son, the detective, solve the crime before they all freeze to death.
Chapter 1
"I hate you!"
Figgy blinked, her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach. She never thought she'd hear those words from her ten-year-old grandson. She shot a glance toward the person who the words were aimed at. Thomas, her husband, frowned but didn't say a word. He'd always been a patient man, and this sudden outburst of rudeness from our grandson must have been as much a shock to him as it was to Figgy.
Thomas steepled his hands under his chin, his eyes fixed on their grandson as he took a deep breath. "Now, Kris. What do you mean by that?"
Kris stood with his hands fisted and anger on his face wrecked face. His lip had been busted to the side and he had a black eye forming. His father was in the Air Force and had been called away on a tour of duty for the first time ever during the holidays. And because of the divorce, their mother was spending the holiday in Hawaii with her new husband. The children were "stuck" with Figgy and Thomas, and they were none too happy about the situation. Even at ten and thirteen years old, they were showing their teenage side in this. It was only normal that they would feel abandoned and lash out, but it didn't make the words sting any less.
"I hate being here. I hate this whole town. Christmas Thyme? What kind of stupid name is that? I hate it. I hate my school. I have no friends. And I hate Christmas." Spittle flew from Kris's lips as he yelled at the top of his lungs. His face grew even more red.
Figgy’s eyes grew wide as she sat on the edge of the leather couch in Thomas’s study. Kris had spent the whole car ride home from the recreation center in silence. He'd gotten into a fight with one of the other boys in his age group. For what reason? They still didn't know. The moment they got home, though, they sat down to discuss the details and find out why the incident had happened and explain why he wouldn't be allowed to go to the recreation center for a week.
But Kris hadn't sat down for long. His rear barely touched the chair when Figgy'd asked him to sit before he was back on his feet again and pacing in front of them. Figgy remained in silent support of Thomas. It's how they'd raised their own children and how they'd dealt with the tough teen years in the past. She was present and supportive, but she wouldn't interrupt unless necessary. It didn't stop her hands from fidgeting with the bottom button on her cardigan.
"You're spouting a lot of emotions and very few facts, Kris." Thomas leaned back in his chair. "How about you tell us what happened and explain why you hate all those things."
Kris's eyes filled with tears and he swiped them away with a growl as if their existence angered him even more. "I don't want to talk about it."
Thomas let out a long sigh. "Nothing will get any better if you don't talk about it. Nothing will change. Things will remain exactly as they are, and you will remain angry and full of this 'hate' you're talking about."
Kris glared at Thomas with his brow furrowed. "So, if I talk about it, will things change? If I say that I hate that you've decided to run for town mayor, will you stop running?"
That made both Thomas and Figgy blink. Then Thomas's frown deepened. "Sometimes things change when you talk about them, and sometimes they don't. It always depends on your reasons. It's like when someone challenges you to a game. If you are afraid of losing and refuse to play, then it's as good as having lost already. But if you play, you may lose anyway, but you also might win."
Kris's arms crossed over his chest and he studied them both with his eyes half-lidded, peering down his nose. He took a deep breath. "They hate me at school and at the rec center because I'm your grandson. Is that reason enough for you to quit?”
A lump formed in Figgy’s throat, and she nearly choked. Then she swallowed it all back down and stuttered, "What do you mean?"
Her grandson’s shoulders fell, and he hung his head as he sighed. "I got in a fight today with Harry Fox. He said that grandpa was a racist and a liar, just like the president because they are both from the same political party."
Figgy gasped and shook her head. Did ten-year-old children really worry so much about politics as this? It was always the parents who voiced those opinions, not caring what their children heard. Then those children bring up those same topics just like this to bully others. It was wrong. Kris shouldn't have had to go through that kind of thing.
Thomas leaned forward and placed his elbows on his knees. "That's not true, you know that, right?"
Kris's tear-filled eyes met his grandpa's again. He frowned and chewed on his bottom lip for a moment before finally saying, "I know it's not true."
Thomas stood and patted his grandson on the shoulder. "It's also not worth getting in a fist fight over. Did you throw the first punch?"
Kris shook his head. "No. Harry pushed me and I pushed him back. Then he jumped up and punched me."
A sigh escaped Figgy, and Thomas met her eyes with a nod. "A fight takes two people, an aggressor and a defender. It's good that you defended yourself, but let's try to do it with words next
time instead of pushes."
The frown on Kris's face deepened. "So, does that mean you're still going to run for office? You know that Harry wasn't the only one saying those thing—three more of the kids agreed with him. They said lots of things, like the reason no one wants to be friends with me is because my grandfather is a bigot."
How many times would these words break Figgy’s heart today?
"I'm home!" Jessica called from the front door.
Figgy glanced at the clock. It was nearly four-thirty—so, of course, Jessica was back from her dance practice car pool. Figgy stood quickly and nodded to Thomas again. Then she slipped out of the door of the study and closed it behind her. She’d leave Kris to Thomas while she focused on Jessica. Their granddaughter stood in the hallway when the door snapped shut, but she'd been peering over Figgy’s shoulder as she pulled on the door. Jessica’s brow furrowed. "What happened to Kris?"
The siblings were close, as they should have been considering that both parents had left their lives too abruptly. Figgy cleared her throat. "He got into a tiff today at the rec center. Your grandfather will take care of it."
Thirteen-year-old Jessica's brow furrowed. "Kris doesn't get into fights."
Figgy nodded and guided her granddaughter back toward the kitchen. "I know dear. It's not a huge deal. Your grandfather is having a discussion with Kris now and will make the best decision on what we should do from here forward. Don't worry. Kris won't be punished harshly. Your grandfather isn't a tyrant."
Her teenage granddaughter huffed but followed Figgy's prodding. Once in the kitchen, she sat on a stool at the breakfast bar while Figgy grabbed a roll of quick pastry from the refrigerator.
"We've got a roast in the crockpot already that's been cooking all day, but you'd like some of the crescent shaped rolls with it, too, right?" Figgy asked, making certain to meet eyes with Jessica, so her granddaughter knew she expected an answer.
"I suppose." Jessica's eyes kept darting toward Thomas's study.
Figgy prattled on, trying to get Jessica's attention away from her brother, if possible. "And after dinner, we'll go to the inn. They have sleigh rides, and I reserved the last one of the evening. I've also invited my friend Merry and her grandchildren. They are about the same age as you two, so I thought it would be nice if you made some friends here in town."
Jessica jerked her head toward Figgy. "Why would we need to do that? We're not staying here in Christmas Thyme forever. Mom said she might come get us right after the New Year. And Dad will be back in the Spring."
Figgy fought the temptation to chew on her bottom lip and pursed them instead. She finished the crescent roll she was forming before looking again at her granddaughter. Jessica was clinging to half-truths and exaggerations. Their mother had already made it clear to them that she was going to be starting a new life with her new family in California. She had no intention of inviting her children to come with her. And spring would be the earliest possible time that Thomas Jr. would come back. It was more likely to be summer. Besides, Junior had also talked about staying in Christmas Thyme with them until both the children had finished high school. But Figgy said none of those things. It wasn't her place to become the bad guy... or the bearer of bad news to her grandchildren. She didn't like that she'd have to be hard on them because they'd be living with her for a while. They were both sad children and needed encouragement. So, she smiled wider and met eyes with Jessica again. "It never hurts to have more friends."
Jessica shrugged and then peered back at Thomas and Kris as they stepped out of the study. Thomas placed a hand on Kris's shoulder, but Kris snatched himself away and hurried down the hall toward his sister. He plopped onto the stool next to his sister. Though they didn't show any outward affection toward one another, both visibly relaxed the tension in their shoulders because of the other's presence.
With a sigh, Figgy placed the bread dough into the pre-heated oven. Thomas's hand landed on her shoulder and she smiled up at him. He kissed her cheek, his eyes sparkling in the kitchen light. "Smells delicious, Figgy. Will dinner be ready shortly?"
Figgy nodded. "In just a few minutes."
"Great."
Although questions filled Figgy's mind, none of them made it to her lips before her husband's phone rang.
Chapter 2
"There's been a bit of trouble over at the fire station. I'll need to take care of it," Thomas said as soon as he hit the red button on his cell phone.
Figgy frowned. "What about dinner?"
"Just set me a plate in the fridge. I'll eat later." He already headed toward the foyer.
"And our sleigh ride plans?" Figgy followed him to the front door as he grabbed his coat.
"Continue without me. I'll catch up when I can. Either way, let the kids have some fun. It's Christmas Eve."
Figgy's frown deepened. Exactly. It was Christmas Eve. This was the kind of day that should be spent with family, and yet the family was scattered across the globe, and now Thomas was adding insult to the injury. Just before he slipped out the door, Figgy leaned in as though she were going to kiss his cheek, but whispered in his ear instead, "Do your best to make it, the kids really could use to spend time with you, and don’t forget about Junior’s call later."
“I won’t.” His blue eyes met hers, and he nodded. Then he pecked her cheek and pulled his hat over his head as he stepped out into the cloud of his breath and the light of the setting sun.
"Grandma, I think your rolls might be burning," Jessica called from the kitchen.
The tangy scent of overcooked bread filled the air. Figgy darted toward the children but found that Jessica was already pulling the pan out of the oven and setting it on the stove top. Figgy peered over her granddaughter's shoulder to see if the bread could be salvaged or if she needed to cook another batch. When she opened her fridge, however, she found that she didn't have another tube of rolls available to cook. She sighed and peeked at her rolls once more. They were dark brown with a little more crust than she would have normally liked, but only the ones on the right-hand side of the pan had started to head toward black. She'd have to throw those two away, and hope that the remainder were still edible. Compromise. Her life was beginning to look too much like this batch of crescent rolls. She'd have to make the best of what she had and try to tone down the situation so that things wouldn't get too out of hand. After letting out a slow breath, she set her hands on her hips. "Everyone gets one roll and as much buttered French bread as they want. Are you guys ready for dinner?"
An unenthusiastic set of murmurs returned to her. With a sigh, she began serving her stew.
Any part of Figgy's body that was left exposed to the elements stung as they walked through town in the lightly falling snow flurry. The weather had said they didn't expect more snow, but the white that swirled around them said otherwise. She shoved her hands deeper in her pockets and trudged forward. Kris stayed with her, worrying her every step as though he feared she would slip on the icy sidewalk... again. But she'd only done that once and caught herself quickly. Jessica trailed behind them. Figgy turned back toward her granddaughter. "Molasses would move faster than you tonight."
Jessica shrugged, but didn't move any quicker. "Just turn around and ignore me, please," she said as she strolled and looked in another direction.
Figgy blinked at her granddaughter. Was Jessica trying to act like she wasn't with her? A smile remained glued to Figgy's face as she turned back around. It was fine. Jessica was thirteen—a teenager—and sometimes teens were embarrassed to be seen with parents and grandparents. A deep breath blew through Figgy's lips as she ruffled her scarf up closer to her nose to cover half her face. It wasn't a long walk to the inn, but it felt longer simply because of the pace Jessica had set for them.
Even though it was only a little after six in the evening, the sun had completely set. But the town's extra lights and displays everywhere for the holiday season reflected off the low cloud cover, making everything seem almost bright as day. The sno
w on the ground had been cleared from the sidewalks, and large chunks of rock salt littered the concrete, crunching underfoot. Kris still seemed a bit down about how his day had gone, but at least he was staying with Figgy and didn't complain about the Christmas Eve activity.
"Will we be done by eight o'clock?" Kris asked as he looked up at her. The purple under his eye had darkened, making him look a little bit like a one-eyed panda.
"More like eight-thirty. But don't worry. We'll have plenty of time before your father is supposed to call us. He said he'd call at 8 a.m. his time, which is 9 p.m. our time. We won't miss him." Figgy steadied herself on a passing lamp post as they passed an icy-looking patch on the sidewalk.
Kris's lips formed a thin line. He was probably looking forward more to the phone call with his father than to what presents he was to receive in the morning. Figgy and Thomas had gotten the list of things the kids wanted from their father in an email and had made sure to get them and put their father's name on them. Their father had also ordered a few extra things online that had arrived in the past week or so.
Ahead, the lights grew a bit dimmer as they turned up the street toward the inn. The jingling of sleigh bells sounded in the distance. It warmed Figgy's heart. There was hardly a sound that meant "Christmas" more to her than the sound of the bells on a sleigh jingling with the muffled sound of hoof beats in the snow. Up ahead, she found Merry's small form waving to her. She waved to her friend enthusiastically, though she was losing her breath a bit as they went up the hill. Figgy thought to herself, again, how she needed to lose some weight.
