“You think I hurt those people?” he asked, looking stunned. “I would never hurt anyone, not for a stupid job like this. I don’t even want to work here anymore, not after this.”
“I’m sorry, Jimmy, but you are going to need to calm down. I am going to call the police.”
“Nick, wait,” Autumn said. She had spotted something on Mrs. Zimmer’s messy desk. Two syringes with the word epinephrine on them. Nick followed her gaze, then they both turned to look at Mrs. Zimmer.
“What is this? This is insane.” Jimmy made a fist and took a step closer. He hadn’t seen their look. Nick rose, tensing.
“Enough,” the older woman said. “Jimmy didn’t do anything.”
“I know he didn’t, Mrs. Zimmer,” he said. “I got this all wrong, didn’t I?”
“What’s going on?” Jimmy said, looking between them.
“I did it, Jimmy. I did it for you and your family, so you would have a nice job to take care of them.”
“W-what? Gramma, don’t say things like that. You don’t have to protect me. I’m innocent.”
“I did it, Jimmy. I knew Benson was allergic to peanut butter, so I sprinkled a little bit of the powder in his drink. I took away those syringes, and hid the keys. I thought if he left, it would give you the opening you needed to get this job. You’ve always dreamed of having your own kitchen, Jimmy. You could have cooked for me every day.”
“Did you do the burners on the stove, too? That almost killed me,” Autumn said.
“I would have been sorry if you died, dear, but Jimmy is my family. I’m not going to be around much longer, and spending the rest of my life in prison wouldn’t be the end of the world if it meant my grandson would be able to support his wife and child. I’m sorry poor Natalie got hurt, but it sounds like she will be just fine.”
“And the salt in the flour?” Nick said.
“I figured if everything else failed, you might be asked to leave if you wrecked Christmas dinner.”
Jimmy stared at his grandmother. “I can’t believe this,” he said. “You did this? You hurt those people? You killed someone?”
“It was for you, dear. You need the work so badly, and I knew that if this man just gave you a chance, you would impress him.”
Nick was shaking his head. “Mrs. Zimmer, please stay in your seat. Autumn, would you call the police? I need to keep an eye on her.”
“I will.” Autumn rose, and edged around Jimmy, who was staring at his grandmother in horror. She hurried to the office and got her phone out of her coat pocket. She dialed 911, and waited anxiously for someone to answer. The kitchen saboteur had been discovered, but she found herself wishing that Nick had been right and it had all been a string of coincidences. Her heart was broken for Jimmy. Maybe his grandmother’s mind wasn’t as clear as it once had been, but there was no getting around the fact that in trying to help him, she had killed one person, and had nearly killed others.
EPILOGUE
* * *
Autumn sat down at the table with her aunt and uncle. They each had plates of pot roast in front of them, with bowls of fruit salad, and piping hot dinner rolls. In the kitchen, two pans of chocolate cake were cooling; she would have to go and frost them in a few minutes. With chocolate icing, warm caramel sauce, and vanilla ice cream, it might not be as traditional as pumpkin pie, but it would still make for a delicious dessert. She thought they had done well, considering what they had been forced to deal with.
They were the only ones who knew what had happened. The other residents hadn’t been told yet. She and Nick had discussed it, and had decided to let them enjoy Christmas with their families. They would address the issue the next day. As some of the surprise over who the culprit was wore off, Autumn realized that she should have made the connection sooner. Mrs. Zimmer had been there each time that something had happened. If only she had been a little quicker on the uptake, Natalie might not have been injured.
Nick wasn’t completely without blame either. He had been in denial that the incidents were linked. If he had simply looked a little harder, he might have discovered Mrs. Zimmer before she got the chance to hurt anyone else.
In the end, Autumn knew that both of them could have done better, but it wasn’t either of their faults. She would drive herself crazy if she blamed herself for this. The important thing was, Mrs. Zimmer had been caught, and wouldn’t be hurting anyone else.
On the upside, Brandon had finally left. She had the feeling that her Uncle Albert had something to do with it, but she didn’t bring it up at the table. She felt bad for Brandon, but she didn’t want to get back together with him. He wasn’t right for her, and she wasn’t right for him. It was time that they both found their own ways without each other.
She hadn’t seen Nick since the police had taken the older woman away. She thought that he might have retreated to his office. She knew that the incident with Mrs. Zimmer had saddened him deeply. He cared about everyone he was responsible for, and had tried extremely hard to convince himself that none of his residents or staff were to blame. She hoped that he would come to terms with things soon, and not blame himself for too long.
“Don’t look so gloomy, dear,” her Uncle Albert said. “This is Christmas, it’s a time to be happy. Your aunt and I are thrilled that you’re having Christmas dinner with us. You did a marvelous job. The pot roast is great. I’m sorry that there was a mishap with the bread, but no one will complain about the dinner rolls once they learn what happened.”
“Thanks, Uncle Albert,” she said. “Merry Christmas. I’m glad I get to spend it with the two of you too.”
“Merry Christmas,” he replied, smiling at her. Her aunt, unable to speak, patted her arm instead and gave her a lopsided smile. Unable to imagine how frustrating it must be to be unable to speak, she gave her aunt’s hand an extra squeeze.
“I love both of you, you know that, right? There’s nowhere I would rather be.”
“You know the funny thing?” her Uncle Albert said. “There’s nowhere I would rather be either. If you would have asked me five years ago if I wanted to spend Christmas in an assisted living facility, I would’ve probably had a heart attack from laughing so hard, but right now I just feel lucky that I get to spend it with my wonderful wife and my niece. The people here are good people, and it has really started to feel like home to us. Part of that is thanks to you, Autumn.”
“I know what you mean,” Autumn said. “This town has really become home to me, too. I’m going to do everything I can to stay here, even though the store will be shutting down.”
She knew that she was going to take Nick’s offer. Her uncle was right. This assisted living home was a good place, and the people here were like family to her. She would keep working at Green River Grocery until it closed, and then she would come here to start her new job, and her new life. Just a few weeks ago, she had thought that her life was falling apart before her eyes, but now she felt the beginnings of hope. She had a chance to start a new career, one that she was excited about, and she hadn’t made what might have been the mistake of her life in getting engaged to Brandon. She only had one life, and she didn’t want to just live it, she wanted to enjoy it, and make the world a better place while she did.
Spicy
Christmas
Murder
An “Authors of Summer Prescott Books”
Christmas Cozy
By
Carolyn Q. Hunter
PROLOGUE
* * *
Despite the heavy chill in the air, the clouds hadn’t shed a single snowflake all December. Even driving into the winding foothills, where the slate gray sky seemed like it was pressing in on the land, there was no sign of the festive white specks that every child so longed for around the holiday season.
Henrietta White, however, didn’t have snow on the mind. In fact, any semblance of Christmas spirit was absent from her thoughts completely. If anything, she was glad for the clear weather as she drove her tiny German car back and
forth along the winding rural road. The foothills just outside of Culver’s Hood, Nebraska, had a habit of growing dangerously slick this time of year. However, the dry skies were a comfort to her.
Rocky outcroppings and green aspens dotted the landscape around her, and a little winding creek followed along the path of the road, guiding her toward her destination.
She hadn’t planned to make the forty-five-minute drive into the hills, but unforeseen circumstances had forced her hand. She didn’t even bother calling into work and instead climbed right into her car when she’d received the anonymous note.
Glancing down at the plastic cup holder, she eyeballed the piece of folded up paper. It had been slipped under her apartment door around six a.m. A series of loud knocks had forced her to run and retrieve the strange note. She had, of course, also checked the hallway outside to no avail.
Whoever had been so kind as to leave the threat hadn’t stuck around to be seen.
Upon reading the haphazardly scribbled lettering, she’d thrown on her winter coat, grabbed her purse, and bolted out the door. That was why she hadn’t the time to call into work or make any other preparations.
No need to raise unnecessary suspicion.
Biting her lips nervously, she wished she’d had a moment to grab some coffee before heading out of town. However, it had been completely out of the question. She needed to get this cleared up here and now before it went any further.
The last thing she needed was some foolish imbecile breathing down her neck—not when she was so close to victory, to freedom.
Henrietta grabbed the little note from the cup holder and unfolding it, she double checked the address that had been printed there. Glancing up, she checked the road signs. A small post, nearly hidden by a roadside tree, pointed the direction she needed to go.
Gripping the wheel, she pulled off and headed into a heavily wooded area. The little back road bobbed up and then down a few times, forcing her to put her car into gear. Rounding the bend, she made one final ascent toward the cabin.
Only one other car, which she didn’t recognize at all, sat parked under the trees. Pulling her own car in next to it, she turned off her engine and got out, grabbing the note in her right hand.
The greeting of mountain silence hung around her—the kind of peace only the winter season seemed to bring. If it weren’t for the stressful situation laid out before her, it might almost be enjoyable.
No time for lollygagging, she thought, putting her purse over her shoulder and making sure the envelope was still there. The building had Christmas lights in the windows which were lit up, as well as a tree. Walking up the wooden steps to the front door, each one creaking under her weight, she knocked with a heavy hand.
She waited, listening.
Footsteps shuffled about inside, heading toward the door.
Moments later, the door swung open. Her eyes widening, Henrietta nearly cried out in shock about who she saw standing there, but never got the chance.
A loud series of pops, followed by the scent of gunpowder, filled the air.
Henrietta groaned, stumbled backward, and fell dead on the cold hard ground outside.
CHAPTER 1
* * *
Friday, December 22nd – 3 Shopping Days Until Christmas
“That’ll be twenty dollars, please,” Margo Hanratty chimed cheerily as she bagged the pre-wrapped Christmas package—four bottled hot sauce jars in a stylish red and white box with a red ribbon tied around it.
“Oh, I just know Ben is going to love it,” the woman gushed, shuffling around in her purse and pulling out her wallet. Undoing the clasp, she opened it and pulled out the bill. “I’m so glad I stumbled over this little shop. I thought for sure I’d never be able to find him a present this year.”
“Well, I’m glad you found something you think he’ll like.”
“Oh, yes. It’s perfect.” Handing the money over with a wide smile, she picked up her bag and hugged it to her chest.
Margo let out a light laugh. “I do find that most men enjoy their hot sauces.”
“Oh, I know that Ben is just like that, always dousing my cooking in some condiment or another. Sometimes, I wonder if he can taste the food at all.”
This time, Margo laughed out loud, her usual cackle ringing through the shop and adding to the overall cheer of the already Christmassy environment. “When my husband was alive, he was just the same. Of course, it didn’t help that I run a business that’s all about hot sauce.”
The woman’s eye went wide. “Oh my, so you mean you’re THE Spicy Senora?”
“That’s me!” she beamed proudly.
“Did you come up with every one of these hot sauce flavors?!” she exclaimed, motioning to the busy shop behind her and the shelves that were filled to the brim with bottles of various sizes.
“I did, indeed. I come up with every new recipe we sell.”
The woman mouthed an inaudible “wow.”
“It started about fifteen years ago. I was just whipping up some hot sauce in my own kitchen. I took it to the City Summer Barbeque and people loved it. My husband suggested to me that I should try selling it, and the rest is history.”
“That’s amazing.”
Picking up one of the business cards next to the register, Margo held it out to the woman. “Here is my card.” The drawing of a woman with full red lips, wide eyes, and hair made completely out of red, orange, and green peppers stared up from the card. “If you look at the picture closely, you can see that it’s me, just with slightly different hair.”
“Heavens, it is you!” she exclaimed excitedly, taking the card in her hands.
“That has the address of the shop here as well as our website.”
The customer looked from the card up to Margo with a giddy smile that only the Christmas season could produce. “My, dear. I just have to say, I adore your hair.”
“Oh, yes. I loved the artist’s choice to make it out of peppers, as well.”
“No, no. I mean your real hair. I like that a woman our age is still brave enough to show some spunk.” She clutched one hand into a fist and pumped it triumphantly.
Blushing slightly, Margo ran a hand through her short spiky doo which had been dyed a bright reddish color. “Why, thank you. With a nickname like Spicy, it only seemed fitting.”
“Well, I love it.” She held up her bag and nodded. “And thank you immensely for this. I know Ben will love it.”
“I know he will.”
“I just hope I picked out the right flavors.”
“Well, these are our signature batches. Jalapeno, Habanero, Chipotle, and Louisiana. You can’t go wrong.”
“I’m sure you’re right.”
“If your husband likes the Signature Gift Box, bring him on back here to the shop and try some of our small batch and specialty flavors.”
“I most certainly will,” she agreed. Giving a little wave, she headed off.
Letting out a heavy sigh, Margo leaned in on the wooden countertop, glad for a small break. While the shop was busy with customers, most of them were still looking at the items—trying to pick the perfect stocking stuffer or extra gift for the season.
The upbeat twang of Joy to the World, a popular country singer’s rendition of the famous Christmas song, played softly over the speakers. The room, mostly made up of browns and reds, with wood paneling and display shelves, was decorated with long green garlands and white Christmas lights.
Among the chaos of attempting to run a full-blown business, and up selling her newest Christmas specials, Margo found the peace and happiness in the season. Even with it being her first year without Don, her late husband, she felt blessed to have her daughter and her daughter’s fiancé to spend the next few days with.
Almost as if in response to her current train of thought, the front door’s swinging bell rang and her daughter walked in. She looked glowing behind her tightly wrapped wool scarf and knit cap. Her nose and cheeks had a cheery redness to them—a sure sig
n of the chilly weather and the coming snow.
“Sandra, you made it,” Margo gasped thankfully.
Stepping behind the counter and removing her scarf, Sandra smiled. “Of course I made it, Mom. I couldn’t leave you hanging high and dry during the Christmas rush, now could I?”
Not waiting for her to finishing taking off her hat, Margo embraced her daughter in a tight hug. “Oh, I love you.” A brief swell of emotion climbed its way up inside her, and she repressed the tears that were begging to get out.
“I love you, too, Mom,” Sandra replied as her mother let her go.
Completely in control of her emotions again, Margo slipped off her red apron with the Spicy Senora logo on it (the usual uniform of the shop’s employees). “You wouldn’t believe how crazy it’s been.”
Sandra glanced around the room at the people all crowded in and browsing the shelves. “I can see that.”
“This is nothing. This is literally the first break I’ve had from the register in the last three hours.” She held out the apron to her daughter.
“What happened to Henrietta?” she asked, taking the apron and slipping it over her head.
“I haven’t the slightest idea, hon.”
“Wait, she didn’t call?” Sandra gasped, her mouth falling open.
“Nope. Not so much as a peep out of her. If she was sick, you’d think she’d at least call ahead to let us know she wasn’t going to be in today.”
Cozy Christmas Murder Page 15
