Cozy Christmas Murder

by Summer Prescott

  “And what did Andrew say to you girls last night?”

  “He said we should sign up for the talent show. Then Margot and Chloe came over and he knew them, and they were excited, so we all said yes.”

  I could hear myself rambling, but I just wanted this to end.

  Sheriff Morgan didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just looked over his notes. I couldn’t help it…I started to squirm in my seat.

  Finally the sheriff looked up and cleared his throat. “Can you tell me where you were today between twelve and four?”

  I caught my lower lip between my teeth. “How did Andrew die?”

  Sheriff Morgan didn’t answer me.

  “Holly,” Sheriff Morgan said more sternly, “where were you today between twelve and four?”

  I blinked. “Well, after my skiing lesson from Andrew, it was probably noon. I stayed and skied down the bunny slopes for a while, grabbed a sandwich inside the chateau, and then I came back to the condo to rest.”

  “Was anyone with you? Can someone corroborate your story?”

  I saw up straighter in my chair. “Excuse me? Are you saying you think I killed Andrew?”

  I could hear the hysteria in my voice, but I couldn’t help it.

  “Again, I’m just trying to establish a timeline and your alibi.”

  I thought back to my afternoon. “Well, I guess people could have seen me on the bunny slope. And maybe even the person who made my sandwich might recognize me. But then when I came back to the condo, I went straight to my room and stayed there until Ophelia came back and woke me up.”

  Sheriff Morgan frowned and looked over his notes.

  “I’m probably going to have more questions for you tomorrow, Holly. I suggest you stick around your condo, don’t venture too far. If you do need to leave, make sure you have someone with you.”

  “You think I’m in danger?”

  Sheriff Morgan smiled and his eyes twinkled. “No, ma’am. I think you need to have an airtight alibi.”

  I felt like I’d been punched in the gut.

  Sheriff Morgan stood. “Like I said, I’ll probably stop by the condo tomorrow around one to talk with everyone. Please make sure you’re available.”

  “But it’s Christmas. Won’t your family be upset?”

  Sheriff Morgan’s mouth lifted in a sad smile. “Murder doesn’t stop for the holidays. My family will understand.”

  I sucked in a breath. “Murder! So Andrew was deliberately killed?”

  “Yes, ma’am. It looks that way.”

  “Are you sure? Maybe he just fell down the chimney wrong and…”

  I trailed off, frowning. Now that I thought about it, sliding down a chimney didn’t mesh with the injuries Andrew had sustained. Andrew had massive damage to his face.

  “Was something inside the chimney?” I asked. “Because now that I think about it, sliding down a chimney wouldn’t get you the injuries Andrew had to his face.”

  Sheriff Morgan donned his hat, staring intently at me. “Merry Christmas, Holly. You’re free to go. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”

  He turned and walked out of the room, leaving me shaking in my chair. Had I said too much? Did the sheriff think I had something to do with the murder just because I mentioned Andrew’s injuries?

  CHAPTER 7

  * * *

  “Wake up, Holly. Merry Christmas.”

  I was still on the cusp of a dream and didn’t want to leave. I tried burrowing down further into the covers, but my intruder wouldn’t stop pushing my shoulder.

  “What?” I mumbled. “I’m tired. I’m trying to sleep.”

  “It’s after eight on Christmas morning. Get your lazy bones up.”

  After eight on Christmas? How could I have slept so long?

  Then I remembered. Andrew was dead.

  Murdered.

  And we were all suspects.

  I flipped over on my back and faced Ophelia. “I’m scared.”

  “Oh, honey.” Ophelia reached over and brushed a stray curl off my forehead. “We’re all worried. In fact, I’ve been think about it all morning, and I think you and I need to get a jump on this thing.”

  I sat up, the covers pooling around my waist. “What do you mean?”

  “First things first. Let’s exchange Christmas gifts.”

  I clapped my hands and gave a tiny squeal. “I love exchanging gifts.”

  “I know! I don’t think anyone else is up yet,” Ophelia said. “I’m going to go make us some coffee, then we can sit upstairs in front of the big window and drink our Christmas coffee and exchange gifts.”

  “Sounds great! I’ll meet you up there in about five minutes.”

  After Ophelia left, I ran to my bag and pulled out her Christmas gift. I couldn’t wait for her to see what I had gotten her this year. Now that Ophelia and I had finished our Master’s degrees, we each had a very small increase in pay from the school. I’m not ashamed to say I used my increase to benefit both of us this year.

  I threw on a clean pair of yoga pants, my favorite Christmas t-shirt, and Ho-Ho-Ho Santa socks. Reaching for the hairbrush, I quickly yanked it around my head. Satisfied I was rocking the Christmas spirit, I grabbed Ophelia’s gift wrapped in gaudy Santa with dancing elves wrapping paper, and headed upstairs.

  “Perfect timing,” she sang out as she carried over a tray with two coffees and a tin of assorted Christmas cookies she’d made earlier in the week. The closer she got, the more excited I was for her to open her gift.

  “Coffee first,” Ophelia said as she handed me a steaming cup.

  I took a sip and my eyes crossed. “Good night! What’s in this?”

  Ophelia gave me a sly smile. “Secret.”

  “C’mon. Tell me.”

  Ophelia laughed. “A little bit of Kahlua, Irish cream, and Rye. You pour it into a glass then light it on fire for about twenty seconds, then pour it into a glass of either chicory coffee or regular black coffee.”

  “That’s such a crazy combination,” I said as I took another sip. “But it sure works.”

  “If I were home, I’d whip up some homemade brandied whipped cream to spread on top.”

  My mouth dropped open. “How do people drink this and still function?”

  “It’s a special occasion coffee. It’s not like you drink it in the morning to get you going.”

  I chuckled. “Too bad. I could probably get used to this.”

  I dipped one of my cookies in the coffee and bit into the soft dough…and couldn’t help the moan. I sometimes think Ophelia missed her calling.

  “Want your gift first?” I asked excitedly.

  Ophelia laughed and set her mug on an end table. “You must be proud of it.”

  I grinned. “I am. You’re gonna love it.”

  “I’m not gonna lie,” Ophelia said. “My gift to you benefits both of us.”

  I laughed. “Mine, too!”

  “We’re so good together!”

  I snorted. “I think that means we’re selfish.”

  “Nah,” Ophelia said, picking up her coffee. “Good together.”

  I thrust my gift-wrapped box with an attached envelope at her. “You first. Box, then the envelope.”

  “Love the wrapping,” Ophelia said sarcastically.

  I don’t wrap well. My theory is the person is just going to rip it open, so why worry what it looks like. Ophelia shook the box and smiled when she heard a rustle inside. She grabbed hold of a Santa’s hat and ripped off his face and the face and body of the elves around him.

  “Nice,” I laughed.

  I grabbed another cookie and munched, watching her wrestling with the box.

  A few seconds later, she pulled out a black apron that declared in bright pink letters that Mornings Are For Mimosas! “I love it!”

  “Now the envelope.” I put my coffee down on the tray and leaned in close, anxious to see her face.

  Ophelia carefully slid her finger under the flap and lifted. Reaching in, she opened the paper an
d read. “Omigod! This had to cost a fortune!” She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I can’t believe you did this! You got us cooking classes for a year!”

  “It’s once a month for a year. Each month will be a different chef, specializing in a cultural dish, dessert, and drink from that area. All the participants make it together, and then we can take the recipes home.”

  “Oh, Holly,” Ophelia catapulted herself off her chair and practically jumped in my lap. I was knocked backward from the force.

  “So you like it?”

  “Oh, please,” she swatted me playfully on the arm. “You know I love it.” She looked back down at the paper. “I just can’t believe you did it.”

  “I’m not gonna lie. I got on one of those sites where they offer these daily outrageous coupons, and I got a pretty good deal.”

  “I don’t care,” she said. “I’m just so excited I can’t even tell you.”

  “Our first class is in January.”

  Ophelia gave me a big, slobbery kiss on the cheek then sat back down in her chair. “It’s funny, but my gift to you sort of revolves around this, too.”

  I held out my hands. “Then give it to me!”

  She thrust the Christmas bag into my hands and laughed as I tossed out the tissue paper and reached for the gift wrapped in glittery pink ribbon. I pulled the gift out of the bag, lifted the ribbon, and started laughing. “No way!”

  The ribbon was holding together about ten different gift cards to various places in Kansas City that specialized in food and wine pairings, along with a few breweries that served food.

  “I put about twenty bucks on each,” Ophelia said. “So we should be able to cut our food bill in half when we go.”

  I swallowed past the knot in my throat. I really thought I’d miss the ex this morning and want to do nothing but wallow in self-pity. But the truth is, until that very moment he hadn’t even crossed my mind. And that was because I had a best friend who knew me better than anyone, who looked out for my best interests, and who never wanted anything from me in return but my happiness. I wiped a tear from my eye and looked at her. “You’re the best. I really mean that. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time. I’m so glad we met our first year.”

  “Stop! You’re gonna make me cry,” Ophelia said. “This is Christmas, a happy occasion! I say we drink a little more coffee, eat some more cookies, and then get down to business.”

  “What kind of business?”

  Ophelia turned serious. “We need to start looking at suspects and motives. I don’t like how it was left last night with Sheriff Morgan. It was so late when we got back that we all just went to bed, but I want to know what he said to you and what he asked you. Because if it was the same thing he said to me, it doesn’t sound good for any of us.”

  I sighed. “Agreed. I’ll run down and get paper and pen. You fill up the mugs with more of your delicious boozy coffee, and we’ll get to work.”

  Ophelia grinned. “Deal.”

  A few minutes later I returned with my journaling notebook I always carry and a pen. Things were about to get serious. I snagged another sugar cookie—this one shaped like a Christmas tree with lots of colorful sprinkles on top—and waited for Ophelia to begin.

  “I’m assuming Sheriff Morgan asked you the same thing he asked me,” Ophelia said. “Questions like how did I know Andrew? And where was I between noon and four? Those types of questions?”

  “Yes.”

  “I know our answer for how we both met Andrew. I told him I was skiing from noon to about three-thirty. At least, I think by the time I got back to the condo and woke you up it was like three-thirty.”

  I nodded and looked out the window. Snow was falling gently from the sky. “I remember that because you ribbed me about sleeping the afternoon away and I needed to get up. I told him I skied with Andrew until about noon, then I skied the bunny slope alone for about an hour. I grabbed a sandwich from the snack bar, then came back to the condo to take a nap. I don’t really remember sleeping heavy, just drifting in and out.”

  Ophelia blew on her coffee then took a small sip. “So, on the far-left side of the paper, write each of our names, skipping lines. Then divide the paper in half and on one side put how each person knows Andrew, and on the other side put where each person was from noon to four.”

  I did what she requested and then spent some time filling in my information and then Ophelia’s. “Do we know for sure any other answers?”

  “I’m not sure,” Ophelia said as she grabbed a cookie and began to nibble. “I think we know bits and pieces. We know Margot and Chloe knew Andrew ahead of time and that they were jealous of anyone who seemed interested in him. I mean, they practically threatened your life and his life after he flirted with you a little.”

  I shuddered. “That was a little weird.” I snatched another cookie, dunked it in my coffee, and took a huge bite. “Do you know how Andrew died? I couldn’t get Sheriff Morgan to tell me.”

  “Didn’t you see him when they pulled him out?”

  I shrugged. “Sort of, but not really. I think maybe I was throwing up, or I just blocked it out or something.”

  Ophelia closed her eyes then took a big gulp of her coffee. “It was bad, Holly. I’m not exactly sure what was down the chimney, but when that guy pulled Andrew’s upper half out of the chimney, his face wasn’t even there. I don’t know what the cause of death would be, but I’m assuming he bled to death or his heart gave out from shock. Something like that.”

  Tears fell from my eyes, and I rubbed the center of my chest. The thought of what Andrew must have gone through during those last moments had my heart aching for him. “Who would want to do something like that to him? Surely you don’t think Margot or Chloe could be capable of that?”

  “I honestly don’t know. I’m hoping Sheriff Morgan will be able to tell us more when he gets here today,” Ophelia said.

  I closed my eyes and pushed out a breath. “We know Margot and Chloe knew Andrew, but the rest of us didn’t. Helen and Bitsie are from Colorado Springs and had never heard of him or met him before. So why would they have a reason to kill him?” I let out a gasp. “Omigod! I just remembered! Last night before we went on to do our act, I saw Margot and Clive fighting. Do you think that’s important?”

  Ophelia shrugged. “It might be. You definitely need to tell the sheriff when he gets here today what you saw.”

  “Doesn’t this freak you out knowing someone here might be capable of murder?” I hissed. “I told you this would happen! We would be the unlucky ones that actually bunked with axe murderers!”

  Ophelia chuckled. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. What about alibis?”

  “Well, I came back to the condo around one-thirty or so, and I didn’t see or hear anyone until you came into our bedroom around three-thirty.”

  “But I told you that Helen had said she’d been back since around one-thirty or two and was upstairs in the condo while you were home.”

  I frowned. “I know. Is that weird that I never heard her? I mean, we must have just missed each other if I got home around one-thirty and so did she.”

  Ophelia shrugged. “I don’t know. She just looked sad curled up on the sofa. I bet she didn’t move much from there, just stared out the window. That wouldn’t require much noise.”

  “I guess. What about Bitsie?”

  “Well, she was shopping all afternoon from what I understand. Helen said Bitsie was going back into Winterdale after she dropped Helen off.”

  “And we believe her?”

  “Well,” Ophelia said, “we don’t have a reason not to.”

  I thought about that for a minute. We also didn’t have a reason to believe anything Helen told us, either.

  “And then we have Margot and Chloe,” I said. “I have no idea what they did.”

  Ophelia frowned in concentration. “I can only account for two times when I saw them. I have no idea the exact time on a clock, but I know I did see them
a couple times on the slopes.”

  “Were they always together?”

  Ophelia gasped. “You know, I saw Chloe once and Margot wasn’t around! I remember because Chloe and I finished the end of the ski together and I waved to her. She didn’t see me…or at least she didn’t wave back. She looked angry, now that I think about it. She headed toward the direction of the chateau.”

  I looked down at my paper and frowned. “We have a lot of blanks and a lot of questions unanswered.”

  “But it’s a start,” Ophelia said as she put the lid on the cookies. “I didn’t like the implications Sheriff Morgan was making, so I think we need to be in on this. Do you know he suggested I not go anywhere unless I have another person with me? For an alibi he said!”

  I bit my lip. “He told me the same thing. I’m really worried.”

  “We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

  I looked at the clock on the wall and did some calculations in my head. “If it’s a little after nine, it’s a little after five in Hawaii. That might be a little too early to call Mom and Dad and wish them Merry Christmas. Maybe I’ll jump in the shower and then call them.”

  “I called mine this morning and talked for a while. When they asked how things were going, I told them we were having a great time. I didn’t think it would be in my best interest to tell them about Andrew.”

  I sauntered into the kitchen and poured another cup of coffee with all the fixings. “I don’t think I’ll tell my parents what happened, either. I don’t want them to worry any more than they already are. When I told them what we were planning on doing here, they had the same axe murderer thought as I did. No sense telling them they may be right.”

  CHAPTER 8

  * * *

  Around noon, Ophelia, Helen, Bitsie, and I sat down at the table to eat a sandwich and chips when the doorbell rang.

  No one moved. We all just stared at each other.

  Helen glanced at the clock. “He’s early. He said around one o’clock, didn’t he?”

  “Maybe it’s not him,” Bitsie said.

  I pushed back my chair. “I’ll go see.”