Death by Figgy Pudding

by P. Creeden

  Diane nodded. "He was staying here with us through the holiday. Apparently, he didn't have family to share the season with, so Alice invited him to come stay with us."

  Jeremy narrowed his eyes at her. "I get the feeling there was some animosity there?"

  "Oh!" Diane blinked and shook her head. "Not animosity, exactly."

  "Please explain."

  George cleared his throat. "Alice sort of sprang his visit on as us a surprise. It wasn't expected for us to have company for the season. He wasn't exactly unwelcome, but..."

  "But," Maple continued for her husband, setting a hand on his shoulder. "We were dealing with the situation just fine. We adapted."

  "When did the couple arrive?" Jeremy asked, writing things down with a stylus on his smart phone.

  "This morning," Diane chimed in. She leaned forward with her hands under the table. From the movement in her arms, Figgy guessed she was wringing her hands under the table. It was an action that she'd done several times that day when things were worrying her. "We had expected Alice to arrive yesterday, but she said that she'd been held up."

  "This is all my fault," Alice cried, suddenly standing. Her hands were balled into fists. "If I hadn't forgotten my medicine, this would never have happened."

  Maple blinked up at her and stood. She put an arm around her niece's shoulders. "No, child. This isn't your fault. It was fate. Accidents like this happen. You couldn't have known this would happen. It could have happened to anyone."

  "We haven't yet ruled the situation as an accident." The detective's gruff voice sounded with authority.

  The three women gasped, and Alice's eyes went wide. She and her aunt sat back down in the chairs at the table. George shook his head. "You don't think this was something other than an accident, do you?"

  After tapping on his smart phone with his stylus three times, the detective slowly shook his head. "You yourself noted that snow had been built up on the sign that pointed to the path to town, in a manner that didn't seem natural."

  George blinked. "Well, yes, but..."

  "And we noticed an odd patch of ice covering the full area from trees to cliff. It was more than three feet wide and over ten feet long. It couldn't have occurred naturally, either."

  Kris's grip on her tightened. Figgy looked down at him, and his eyes were riveted on the detective, as was everyone else's.

  Detective Jeremy stepped over toward the buckets that sat by the door. He tapped one with his toe. "What are these buckets used for?"

  Maple shook her head. "Those are for the horses. I had bran mash in them when I brought them inside to clean."

  "Are they used for anything else?" he asked as he peered into them.

  Diane nodded. "I used them last night for depositing the seeds in after I strained them out to make the last batch of figgy pudding."

  Figgy swallowed. She was the only one who knew the significance of that answer.

  The detective noted something with his stylus again. When he looked up, he asked, "Have any of you been alone today?"

  Around the table, all of them answered with a nod or a yes.

  After nodding, the detective asked, "Have you seen anyone acting suspiciously? Did anyone take these buckets and use them in a suspicious manner, like maybe for a walk around the lake?"

  Diane gasped and covered her mouth with her hand.

  The detective lifted a brow toward her. "You've seen something?"

  "It was me," Maple said suddenly, her voice screeching slightly. "I took the buckets toward the lake. I was the one who covered the sign and made the ice."

  Everyone stared at her, Diane's eyes were the widest as the darted toward her sister, George, and their niece. She shook her head. "But..."

  Maple narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Tell him, Diane. Tell him how you saw me take the buckets and go toward the lake with them."

  George shook his head. "Maple, don't..."

  Tears filled Maple's eyes. "Don't try to stop me. I need to--"

  "Stop it!" Alice yelled, jumping to her feet again. "I'm tired of all this lying."

  She pulled her hand from her pocket and slammed something down on the table. When she removed her hand, the foil covered pills were exposed.

  Merry gasped. "Your medication."

  Tears streamed down Alice's face. "I lied. I had my medication the whole time. And Scott's not as kind as he looks. He abuses me verbally. He constantly tells me I'm trash and that I was lucky to find someone like him to be with me with all my medical issues. And yesterday, for the first time, he hit me. I told him I wanted to break up and he hit me and said that he'd kill me if I ever left him. Kill me and kill himself because I was the only thing he lived for."

  A sob broke from Maple's lips as she sat back down in the chair beside Alice.

  "I felt trapped. I could only see things getting worse. At first, I thought of just stopping my medication and letting myself die. But then I thought about how I could get rid of Scott instead and make it look like an accident. I lost my medication, knowing that with George doing the sleigh rides, he wouldn't go get it, and my aunts would be too busy as well. Scott liked pretending he was a dutiful boyfriend when people were looking. I knew as long as I made it as public as possible, he'd want to go and look like a hero."

  The detective continued to take notes, but no one said a word to stop Alice's confession.

  "Earlier this afternoon, I took the buckets and bucket warmers and melted the snow to make the icy patch. I covered the sign that said where the path was. I did it all to make it look like an accident." She lifted her gaze and met eyes with the detective. "But when you said it wasn't an accident, I knew I'd been caught. I know my aunts love me, and would do anything for me, but I couldn't let Aunt Maple take the blame for this."

  "You did the right thing. Let's get you down to the station to make a formal statement." He pulled the handcuffs from his pocket.

  Maple jumped to her feet. "Is that really necessary?"

  As he placed the first cuff on Alice's wrist, he nodded. "I'm afraid it is."

  Chapter 7

  Figgy's grandchildren both continued to cling to her as they stood in the doorway of the inn with everyone and watched Detective Jeremy drive down the way toward town with Alice in the back of his unmarked police car. The snow continued to fall around them, and nearly four more inches had accumulated in the time since they'd first arrived for the sleigh ride.

  Jessica suddenly gasped. "What time is it?"

  As soon as she realized why Jessica had asked, Figgy's heart leapt into her throat. She pulled out her cell phone and glanced at the time. It was 9:20. She groaned and turned the phone around to show the kids.

  Kris's face crumpled. "Does that mean we missed dad's call?"

  "Not at all," a deep voice sounded from behind them. Thomas walked their direction from his fire marshal's truck. "Hop in, kids. I already emailed your dad and told him that we were going to be a little late. He's going to video chat us at 9:30. We've got ten minutes to make it home."

  The kids squealed and rushed forward, hugging their grandpa before jumping into the back seat of the truck. Figgy turned toward Merry, who laughed and waved. "Don't worry about us. Make it home to talk to Junior."

  A wide smile spread across Figgy's lips as she turned back and jumped into the passenger's seat. Thomas closed her door and then skirted around the front of the truck. When he jumped into the driver's seat, he started the vehicle, and turned on the red flashing lights without the siren. He looked back at the kids and grinned. "If this isn't an emergency, I don't know what is."

  Then he pulled out of the driveway, and once he was on the cleared street, he started speeding toward home. Kris and Jessica whooped from the back seat as they started down a sharp downhill slope. They skirted under a yellow traffic light while chirping the siren once to let everyone know they were heading into the intersection.

  Figgy couldn't help but laugh at the children's excitement. Though this Christmas eve had a few tr
oughs, it had a few good moments, too. She hoped the children would have good memories about the time they'd spent together. But at least for the moment, the animosity she'd felt from the children from the first day they'd come to Christmas Thyme had subsided. In that moment, she felt nothing but love from her grandchildren. And Figgy would do whatever it took to help the children realize they still had a family who loved them.

  Continue Reading for a Chapter 1 preview of

  Merry without Malice

  And

  Murder on New Year’s Eve

  Both books also by P. Creeden

  Chapter Preview

  Merry loved when her grandchildren came over to visit, but there was one thing she couldn’t understand. Did children no longer play outside? She watched her two grandchildren, Colin and Kaitlyn as they sat on the couch, each on their own device. Colin played video games on his portable game player while Mary watched music videos on her smartphone.

  The children were both towheaded—blond with blue eyes, much like their father had been when he was their age. Their mother had dropped them off early that afternoon, so she could spend time shopping in Boulder with some of her friends. Their father, the newly promoted detective, had to work the evening shift. Of course, Merry offered to watch the ten and twelve-year-old.

  She gazed out the window at the fading light. The setting sun shined outside off the inch of snow that still packed on the ground. Some of it had melted during the heat of the day, but not much. Areas were already refreezing, but she’d had her son, Jeremy drop some rock salt on the areas where they needed to walk. Outside of the footprints that went along the sidewalk, there were no other imprints in the snow. No snowmen. No snow angels. The children had only stepped outside long enough to make it from the car to the house. And from the door, they only made it to the couch.

  Merry frowned, looking at them. At twelve, Kaitlyn still had a bit of chubbiness to her cheeks. She had dyed her hair that popular purple hue on the bottom half and tried to behave as though she’d transposed the numbers of her age. But with none of the responsibilities that came with being an adult, the reality of true maturity remained a mystery to her.

  As for ten-year-old Colin, he didn’t talk much, even when Merry asked him a question. In all the years that they’d spent at grandma’s house, Merry had hardly heard him say more than “Hello, Gramma,” or “Thanks, Gramma.”

  For a while, she half-wondered if he might be a bit slow. But according to her daughter-in-law Adrienne, the boy was a straight-A student. She chalked it up to Colin being shy. Regardless, when they were over at her house, she tried her best to make sure the children were comfortable and fed.

  While making dinner, she made a decision. The twosome still remained on the couch, slouched down, each in their own little world. Merry cleared her throat “Have you guys seen the lights display in town yet?”

  Kaitlyn peered over her phone and met Merry’s eyes for a half moment before sliding her gaze back down to the small screen. “We’ve driven by it a few times.”

  “During the day? You haven’t walked it? It’s a totally different experience when you walk it.” Merry persisted, her hands fisting on the dishrag she held in her hands.

  Kaitlyn frowned and shrugged but didn’t look up again.

  Colin didn’t say a word, making Merry wonder if he’d heard at all.

  Anger welled up in Merry. She frowned and raised her voice. “Put down the electronics.”

  Both children looked over the devices, their eyes growing a little wide. Honestly, it was probably the first time Merry had raised her voice with either of the children, but she’d thoroughly had enough.

  “Dinner will be ready in five minutes. You both will put the electronics away, wash up, and help set the table. We will have dinner in a peaceable way, and then we’re going to walk through the lights display. We are a family. We should spend time together as family and make memories. In ten years, you won’t remember what level you got in your game or what boy you liked best in that boy band of yours, but you’ll remember this evening spent with your grandmother, walking through a winter wonderland of lights.”

  Kaitlyn sighed and leaned forward. “Is all that really necessary, Gramma?”

  Merry blinked.

  Colin laughed.

  A wide smile spread across Kaitlyn’s face. “Boredom, Gramma. When there’s nothing else to do, Colin plays games, I watch videos. But if you’ve got something for us to do, we’re happy to do it.”

  Merry blinked again, wondering if there was a catch. All this time, if she’d wanted them to get off the devices, she’d just had to give them something better to do? She was certain she’d asked them if they wanted to play in the snow or play a board game, and always got half-committal shrugs in response. Maybe it wasn’t just that she was offering to give them something to do. Maybe it was because she was offering to do it with them, and had forcefully demanded that it happen?

  Regardless, as she watched the kids get up and help set the table, happiness spilled over in her heart.

  “Isn’t it too cold out here for this?” Colin asked, forcing a blink out of Merry.

  They had only walked two blocks away from the house, crunching through the patches of snow occasionally found on the sidewalk. Around them, a light breeze blew now and then, but only enough to bring color to their cheeks, not enough to give them frostbite. All that was left of the sun was a bit of glow on the western horizon.

  She’d made sure the kids were bundled up sufficiently, forcing Kaitlyn to wear a hat, even though the child worried about messing up her hair. Merry couldn’t help but smile at the thought. Somewhere in the process of growing up and gaining maturity, people learned to worry less about how things looked and more about how they functioned. Nothing taught that more than going out into the crisp night air for an event that would take an hour or two.

  Her purple mitten-covered hands clapped together, and she picked up her pace. “If we walk briskly, we’ll stay warm. Keep up, children.”

  Behind her, she heard the grunts and heavy breathing of the children as they made their way down the main thoroughfare. Lights shined on the sidewalk from the café as they passed, and she turned back toward the kids. “When we’re done with the display, we’ll stop in for some hot chocolate. Sound good?”

  “Can I get cider instead? Chocolate causes pimples.” Kaitlin’s eyes sparkled as she looked inside the café.

  “Sure, cider is fine.”

  “I like hot chocolate,” Colin said, his nose buried in his black and white knit scarf. The boy’s hands were shoved deep inside the pockets of his green down jacket.

  Merry smiled and went back to facing the front. This was fun. Maybe she needed to be more direct with the kids from the beginning. She’d spent too much time trying to be the good grandma, the nice one—especially since she knew that their parents were having trouble at home, and the last thing she wanted was for her daughter-in-law to decide that she was mean to the children and keep them away from her out of spite. But maybe she’d been overthinking things. The children seemed to respond better when she was direct rather than subtle.

  Kaitlyn pulled her smart phone from her pocket, pulled off her gloves, and began running her thumbs across the screen. Merry pulled the phone from her hands. “No. Not tonight. You were supposed to leave this at home.”

  Blond and purple curls peeked out of the knit cap on Kaitlyn’s head, the red in her cheeks nearly matching the color. “But Gramma…”

  “Don’t ‘but Gramma’ me. You can have it back after the lights display. We’re making memories.”

  After letting out an overly dramatic sigh, Kaitlyn crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes but kept walking forward. Merry took it as a win. The kids didn’t seem enthusiastic about the venture, but they were going without too much fight. That was enough for Merry.

  They walked over the rise past the café and when they reached the top, the lights came into view. People milled about, both loca
l and visitors stood in the display and walked through the lights that were strung and on bows overhead and on both sides of the street. Camera flashes added to the sparkling wonder.

  “It’s pretty, right?” Merry asked, clapping her mittens together.

  “Pretty,” Colin agreed, a wide smile across his face.

  “It’s alright.” Kaitlyn’s arms were still folded over her chest, but her eyes were fixed on the display, and there was a twinkle in them.

  Merry grabbed Colin’s hand.

  “Let’s go,” she said as they started down the hill. Kaitlyn followed close behind and they began their walk through the multi-colored lights. There were reindeer on bows where each reindeer lit individually making it appear that they were jumping over the street where the crowds walked. Santa’s helpers sat on the sides making toys and the hammer would light up in two positions to make it look as if it moved up and down. The lights display stretched for a full mile and crowds from all over came to see the charming creative show.

  The crowds were thin as the Christmas show had started its first showing. Music and voices carried across the lights display from the big white tent midway through. Breath formed clouds of fog around Merry’s head as they walked, but their pace kept them from getting too cold.

  She noticed someone filming and stopped the children from going in front of the camera. Instead they detoured slightly and went behind the filmmaker. All around them, people were filming and taking pictures of the display. Merry shook her head. How many of them would actually ever look at those pictures again? Instead, they were ruining today’s experience by trying to view them through a tiny digital screen instead of taking it all in with their own eyes. A sad state the world had fallen into in her opinion.

  But in all her sixty-two years, she didn’t remember any time when people were so wrapped up in their picture taking that they forgot to experience life itself. She and the children walked along, watching the display, and Merry peered at her watch to check the time. They’d missed the seven o’clock showing of the Christmas play, but maybe they could catch the eight o’clock one. It was just after seven twenty. Could she keep the kids occupied for another forty minutes?