Jingle all the Slay: Marshmallow Hollow Mysteries Book 1

by Cassidy, Dakota

  TTYL. Love you.

  Love you back.

  I set the phone down and ran the brush through my hair one more time. I’d tried to curl it the way Stevie showed me, but manual labor wasn’t cutting it right now and I really sucked at anything more than a ponytail.

  Looking at my reflection and my deflated curls, I made an executive decision in favor of my nana’s speech on “living.” Circling my head with my fingers, I flicked them, leaving behind a cloud of sparkly dust that dissipated into the air.

  Then I smiled. My dark hair looked shiny and like I’d just left the salon, and Atti could eat my hat if he didn’t like it.

  Speaking of my authoritarian, overbearing familiar. “Oh, Halliday. Have you no pride?” He landed on the copper light fixture above the mirror in my master bath.

  I stuck my tongue out at him as I straightened my royal-blue turtleneck and adjusted my silky black kimono. “I have lots of pride and very few hairdressing skills. So suck it.”

  He chuckled. “So off for a meal with your beau?”

  “He’s not my beau.” But the idea made my stomach tingle.

  Brushing my hands down my flared denim jeans, I stared at my impractical ankle boots and hoped I wasn’t making a mistake wearing them in so much snow.

  “Not yet, Poppet. But I predict it won’t be long until he’s a regular fixture around here.”

  “I’m not sure I’m ready for a regular fixture after Hugo, Atti.”

  Atti flew to my shoulder and gazed at me via our reflection in the round black-framed mirror. “When a Valentine falls off the horse, what does a Valentine do?”

  I smiled, applying some pale pink lip gloss to my lips before dropping it into one of my navy-blue vanity drawers. “Make the horse disappear?”

  “Oh, you saucy minx. No. She gets back on. You knew from the start I didn’t like Hugo. He was a blemish on all mankind. But your Hobbs? I rather enjoy him, even though he speaks to me as though I’m two. Why don’t you enjoy him as well?”

  I leaned against the cool white-quartz countertop and sighed, my stomach a little bit of a jumble. “I’ll sure try. And while I do that, you keep the home fires burning and pray I don’t end up with spinach in my teeth.”

  Atti buzzed in front of my face, brushing up against my cheek. “I shall send my wishes out into the universe. Now, you look beautiful. Have a lovely time.”

  “If I send you a text just before I’m ready to come home, will you start a bath for me?”

  I looked longingly at the oyster-white freestanding tub with copper fixtures and battled with myself for wanting to chicken out.

  “I certainly shall. Now, off with you. I have a much-needed nap on my horizon whilst I bask in the glow of the firelight.”

  I kissed my finger and touched the top of his head. “Love you. Have an awesome nap.”

  I flipped the lights off and headed to the kitchen, where I pulled on my warmest, nicest jacket and scarf, skipping a hat, even though I figured I’d be sorry if we had to walk anywhere for parking.

  Hobbs was meeting me at Coral’s because he had some errands to run in town, and after I got into my truck and turned the heater on high, backing out of the garage, I sat for a moment and took deep breaths while looking at the lights.

  Lo and behold, there was a light out on the spinning Christmas trees—again.

  I focused on the ocean surrounding my house, beneath the cliffs, pounding against the rocks with a hypnotic beat. Maine in the summer months is beautiful—heck, the fall is gorgeous, too—but I love the winter. I love the snow and the sound of seagulls calling. I love the salty air filled with the promise of fat flakes to come.

  Looking in the rearview mirror, I remembered my hair didn’t like the snow quite the way I did. I’d have to remember to pull up my hood if I had to park far from the diner so I wouldn’t be a droopy mess.

  Feeling a bit more composed, I headed toward downtown as I listened to my local radio station. There was another storm brewing with an estimate of eight to ten inches of snow.

  Thankfully, I only lived a couple of miles out of town and my truck was pretty reliable. Another thing to be thankful for, as I pulled onto Main Street, was that the public parking lot appeared to have some spaces left. Again, a rarity on a night the festival was open, especially as it was pushing seven, but I wouldn’t complain.

  Coral’s Cove Diner was at the end of the street. It wasn’t a long walk, but it reminded me that I might regret wearing these black ankle boots.

  Bracing myself for the cold to hit me square in the face, I popped open the door, pulling on my gloves and wrapping my scarf tighter around my neck.

  As I crossed the street, milling my way through the festival goers to the sidewalk lined with heat lamps, I ran into Judy Minch.

  My Judy, who’d allegedly assaulted Hessy Newman. I was still processing that information, and if she didn’t have a solid alibi that could be checked, I’d have taken her into consideration. But unless she was Houdini, she had alibied out, and so had everyone else but Jared.

  “Judy! You hitting the festival tonight?”

  She tightened her jacket around her and shook her head. “Not tonight. I just spent another afternoon with twenty first graders who sure love to yippity-yap. My ears are tired. And I s’pose you heard the police questioned me yesterday, right after you and your man friend left?”

  “I figured as much. I’m sure they questioned Honey, too.”

  I knew I shouldn’t ask her any questions about what the police had asked. Besides, Stiles would kill me if he found out.

  “Yeppers. They sure did. It’s been a long coupla days for us seniors. I’m goin’ home to my Susan and a meatloaf sub from Sid’s.” She held up the brown paper bag with Sid’s logo on it. “Where are you headed to with your hair lookin’ so pretty?”

  I poo-pooed her comment about my hair with a flap of my hands. “Just grabbing some dinner with a friend.”

  Judy whistled, her eyes sparkling with mischief under the store lights. “Would that friend be that looker Hobbs?”

  I reached for Judy’s top button on her coat and tucked it into the buttonhole with a smile, still shocked that she had a temper. “Could be.”

  “Good on ya,” she cheered. “Oh, and hey, did you hear…?”

  My ears instantly perked up. Maybe she’d heard about another suspect. Or maybe they’d released Jared because they had insufficient evidence to hold him?

  “Hear what?”

  “They’re gonna charge Jared with manslaughter! Can you even imagine how Cyril and Aggie feel tonight?”

  My stomach plunged to my toes and a shiver of fear zinged up my spine. “What? Where did you hear this, Judy?”

  I’d watched the news tonight while I got ready, and read the paper earlier, and I hadn’t heard anything about any charges being brought against Jared.

  She rolled her eyes at me. “The phone tree, of course. Nothing gets past ’em.”

  I gripped her arm, maybe a little too tight. “Who called you from the phone tree to tell you?”

  “Linny Armstrong did, of course. Someone at the station heard Aggie crying and yelling that her son wouldn’t commit manslaughter. Whoever the heck it was called up Linny and told her. Can’t remember who, now.”

  Holy frack. This was awful. Aggie must be so distressed. I almost couldn’t speak, but that wasn’t stopping Judy.

  “Right after that, I got a call from Honey, and she said she wasn’t at all surprised he was charged with murder because she’d heard Linny had seen the police leaving Jared’s with the murder weapon. Can you imagine using a frying pan to bash somebody’s head in?”

  Wait.

  No one knew about the cast-iron frying pan—and certainly Linny didn’t, because she’d confirmed on Facebook that she couldn’t see what the officer was bringing out of Jared’s in an evidence bag.

  And Stiles, not ten minutes ago, just before I’d left the house, had made me promise not to tell anyone about the frying pan. />
  My heart began to throb in my chest and my feet and hands went clammy-cold.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

  “Hal, honey? You got another one of those migraines comin’ on? You need ol’ Judy to help you inside?”

  I gripped her arm again. “No, Judy. I’m fine. Thank you. Tell me again…who told you about the frying pan?”

  “Honey. Honey Crowley told me when I called her up to tell her Jared was being charged with manslaughter.”

  My head spun, but I tried to maintain a modicum of calm so as not to frighten Judy. “Judy? I have to run, but make sure you’re safe getting to your car, would you?”

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” I didn’t want to panic her with my revelation, but I can tell you, I was panicked.

  She looked skeptical as she peered at me from beneath her thick knit hat. “Well, okay. If you’re sure. And you make sure you say hello to your cutie for me. I just saw him go into Honey’s store about ten minutes ago.”

  “Hobbs?”

  Why would he go to Honey’s? I checked my phone. He was supposed to meet me in five minutes at the diner.

  “Uh-huh. I’d know a tall drink of water like that any day of the week. Anyway, I’m gonna git so my meatloaf doesn’t get cold. See ya later, gal!”

  As Judy scurried off across the street, I watched with half an eye to make sure she was safe as I pulled my phone from my coat pocket to find Hobbs had left me a text.

  Meet me at Honey’s before dinner.

  Oh, fuuu%&#!

  Chapter 16

  “Most grown-ups can’t believe in magic. It just…sort of grows out of them.”

  Judy The Elf from The Santa Clause, 1994

  With trembling fingers, I clicked on my speech-to-text and left Stiles a message. “Meet me at Honey’s. Now! 911!”

  And then I did something I’m not supposed to do in order to save some time. I used my magic.

  Looking around, I found a place in the shadows, away from the people milling about the sidewalk, and shrunk back against the brick of the storefront to try to make my body as small as possible. Then I snapped my fingers, zapping myself into Honey’s store.

  Unfortunately, as I’ve said before, when stressed or angry or feeling any kind of emotion other than calm, it can sometimes mess with my magic’s mojo.

  This time? Phew, friends. I really flubbed, because when I landed in Honey’s store, I crashed into an entire rack of winter coats, taking the whole thing down with me, leaving me tangled in the smell of mothballs and lavender.

  As I fought my way to stand, I took a quick look around, but I didn’t see Hobbs. Maybe Judy had been wrong? Maybe he’d already gone to the diner?

  “Hal?”

  I whipped around to find Honey, her hair mussed, her eyes bleary and red…and I’m here to tell you, I don’t know what made me blurt it out. Maybe it was the excitement of discovery, maybe it was just my big mouth on overdrive—but blurt I did.

  “It was you!”

  Before I could even process what I’d said, she pulled a gun from the pocket of her flared skirt and pointed it directly at me.

  It all sank in then. All of it.

  “Don’t move, Hal!”

  Immediately, my hands went up in the air as my heart began to throb against my ribs. “Honey,” I said, my voice almost a plea. “Oh, Honey, why? Why would you do this?”

  But she stood her ground like I’ve never seen her do before. “You be quiet, young lady! Be quiet and march yourself up those stairs!” She waved the gun at me, forcing me to step over the pile of clothes and head toward the back room, where there were stairs leading to her apartment.

  She flipped off the lights to the store and growled another order. “March! I’ll use this, Hal. I will, I swear! I’ve killed someone before, and I’ll do it again to protect myself! To protect Walter!”

  At first, I hadn’t been so much frightened as surprised, but that gun in her hand and the malice in her eyes made my heart skip twenty beats.

  If I used my magic, and something went wrong, we could both end up dead. That meant I needed to calm down and center myself. So I followed her order and went up the stairs with the muzzle of the gun in my back.

  As I crested the steps, we entered her dimly lit kitchen, with shiny appliances and a back door that led to stairs down to the empty lot behind her store.

  I saw Hobbs at the kitchen table, slumped over, and my heart began to thrash harder.

  He was motionless, his arms hanging at his sides, his dark head on the table, his profile slack.

  Without thinking, I ran to him, only to have Honey’s enormous dog, Bowser, growl at me, baring his teeth as he curled his big tri-colored body around Hobbs’s ankles in territorial fashion.

  “Bowser! Sit! Stay!” Honey demanded with a stomp of her foot.

  He instantly backed off, but his deep brown eyes said he was ready to take a bite out of Hobbs at any time.

  I licked my dry lips, suddenly feeling very warm. “Is he…is he alive?” I squeaked the words out.

  Honey rounded the small table and waved the gun at the spot behind Hobbs. “Get away from him! He’s fine. It’s just a little smack on the head. If he’d just stayed out of it. If he’d just taken my donation to Bitty and gone on his merry way, it would all be fine! But he knew. I saw that he knew!”

  That was when I saw a cast-iron frying pan on the table with a price on it that read three for twenty-five. And there was another one on the floor…

  With blood on it.

  Hobbs’s blood.

  And one pan missing…

  It hit me probably as hard as Honey had hit Hilroy and Hobbs.

  Hobbs had seen the frying pans and realized one was missing. I don’t know how he’d deduced the murder weapon had been part of this set, and was likely Honey’s, and that obviously Jared hadn’t stolen it. I don’t know why Bitty sent him to pick up a donation for the shelter, or why Honey had cracked him in the head, but he was bleeding profusely…and I had to get him help.

  I was so stunned, I almost couldn’t move. I didn’t know this Honey. This wasn’t the Honey Crowley I’d grown up with. This woman with her hard eyes and mouth thinned in anger wasn’t my grandmother’s friend. The woman Nana had sat next to at Saturday night Bingo and made quilts with in a sewing circle.

  Then it occurred to me…I didn’t know where Walter was either. He’d never allow this. Was he hurt?

  My pulse pounded in my ears, hard and fast. “Where’s Walter, Honey?”

  She frowned at me. “At the VFW Hall, playing poker. Don’t you worry about where he is. You just be quiet while I figure this out. You hear me, or I swear on my life, I’ll use this on you!”

  Shifting position, my feet made the floor creak, in turn making Bowser stir and growl in a low hum. “It’s okay, buddy. It’s just me. We’re old friends, remember?” I cooed at him.

  But Bowser clearly had a short memory, and Honey didn’t like me talking to him one bit. “You hush, Hal! Let me think!”

  I decided to try a reasonable approach to appeal to her gentler side. She might be gruff, but she wasn’t compassionless.

  “Honey, what’s going on? Tell me and I’ll help you. I told you yesterday in the store I’d help you. Whatever you need. Tell me what I can do to make this better,” I pleaded as my head spun.

  Her shoulders crumbled a little then. “What can you do to make murder better? He was going to take everything, Hal! Everything we own! I had to do something before Walter found out!”

  I heard the panic in her voice, saw the terror in her eyes, but I wasn’t at all sure she wouldn’t hurt me. Hurt Hobbs. I mean, she’d murdered someone. Honey Crowley had murdered a man. I almost couldn’t breathe from the reality.

  But I needed to know why. “How, Honey? How did he do that? What was Hilroy going to take?”

  Tears began to stream down her face, streaking her makeup. She used her shoulder to wipe them
away while she kept that gun pointed at me without so much as a quiver of her hand, a finger solidly on the trigger.

  “What was he going to take? What was he going to take!? Everyyyything!” she wailed. “He was going to take everything. All of it. The store, our home. All of it! And he was going to turn it into a commercial nightmare of plastic Santas and gimmicks and the whole town would have hated me! I couldn’t let that happen!”

  As my mind tried to process what she was saying, Hobbs began to stir, and Bowser showed his very sharp teeth again in response.

  Gulping, I swallowed back my fear and managed to spit out, “How? How could he do that? You said you told him you wouldn’t sell the store.”

  She barked a disdainful laugh. “He tricked me, Hal! That’s how. He tricked me into signing something I thought was going to give us a lot of money. But he lied! He got me to sign something that left us with nothing!”

  Oh no. He’d done to Honey what he’d done to those poor people in New York. “Okay, okay,” I said in an understanding tone. “I get it. Hilroy was a scum bucket. But kill him? Honey, we all would have pitched in to help you and the store. You must know that! Why would you kill him?”

  She shook her head, her mussed, freshly dyed hair garish against the kitchen lights as tears flowed down her face again, streaking her thick makeup.

  “No, Hal. No one could help us. When he came back here after doing what he’d done, gloating like some overblown rooster in a hen house, telling me he was going to drag us out of here like criminals and threatening to call the police to remove us, I couldn’t take it anymore!”

  “So you killed him?”

  Holy really bad swear word. Every time I said it out loud, it didn’t become any more believable. If anything, it made it all so much worse.

  She clenched her teeth, her sagging jaw growing hard. “I hit him with the first thing I could find, and I kept hitting him, and when I dropped it, I grabbed the frying pan and hit him again. He made me so angry with his ugly sneer, and flashing his money and power at me like a neon sign. It just happened, Hal!”

  “The reindeer hoof stamp…” I muttered, my racing thoughts spilling from my mouth before I could stop them.