I had coveted the ultimate edition of Cricut and planned to buy it this weekend, but it wasn’t in my budget since I bought the RV. A large portion of my savings, and the money I had painstakingly saved for my son’s college tuition, went to the purchase. My children’s father had offered to pay the full amount, but I wanted—needed—to help with their tuition. Scotland’s job with the Morgantown police department offered tuition reimbursement, so he was going that route to finish his degree. I hoped Cassie spent the money responsibly. Not my worries. It was on her dad. Samuel was careful with “his” money yet had a habit of frittering away others’ money on marketing schemes, business ventures, and whatever else he thought would make his life better. One of the reasons for our divorce.
I bought a recreational vehicle. I responded.
Did you win the lottery? Heard someone in West Virginia won a nice wad of cash. Show me the outside. Following the words was a row of happy face emoticons.
While I was out there, I’d hook everything up before the light completely vanished. In the few minutes I had spent messaging Bright, the sun slipped further behind the mountain. I had stopped at Ace Hardware and picked up duct tape, rope, gloves, garbage bags, and an array of tools to have on hand in case I needed to make any repairs. The RV appeared in perfect condition, but I was sure there was another reason—beside Cassie’s new stepmother Bonnie wanting the teen to move into it—that had made her sell it to me. Cheap.
The air had a bite of cold. The unseasonal warmth was leaving, and true winter weather was on its way. I dared say even some snow. I just hoped it didn’t fall until I returned home. There was no way I wanted to drive the beast in the snow. I messaged Bright a few pictures of the vehicle then started hooking up the electrical, water, and sewer hose. Before leaving home, I had watched a lot of videos on YouTube on how to accomplish the task.
My phone pinged. It pinged again. And again. Bright had a lot to say about my RV. I went inside into the warmth, took a bottle of water from the refrigerator, and curled up in the leather recliner that faced the thirty-two-inch flat screen TV. This was the traveling life. All the comforts of home. Crafts. Christmas movies. Snacks.
Ebenezer squealed. A long, drawn out pitiful noise. Poor guy. He was used to roaming around. He had never chewed on any product before, but I had also never had my pieces out in the open where he could nibble on them. I had four-foot wooden trees made from pallets, boxes of hand-painted wooden and ceramic ornaments, stacks of decals, and garland cut from weatherproof material, stored in the living quarters.
My phone pinged again. I forgot about Bright. Tilting my hip up, I pulled my cell phone from my pocket, eager to see what she had to say about the on-the-go Merry and Bright studio. Unexpected tears pricked my eyes as the words pelleted my heart.
What were you thinking? Bright messaged in all capital letters, followed by what seemed like hundreds of question marks. I can’t believe you bought that.
The sadness ebbed away as anger built. I was a grown woman. I could purchase whatever I wanted. It was my money. My parents’ investments and my father’s life insurance paid for most of my mom’s care. I met our monthly expenses every month with a few sacrifices here and there. I was always waiting “until” before I embraced what I wanted to do, and today decided to go for it.
I love it. I banged the virtual letters of the small keyboard. The mobile craft studio will help our business grow. I can go to more craft shows. No more hotel costs and minimal for food.
I think getting an RV is a great idea, Bright responded. I’ll even chip in. The mobile studio benefits me too.
I felt heat licking my cheeks. Was that why she was upset? Because I had made a huge business purchase without consulting her? I had no intention of splitting the RV purchase. Sorry for not running it by you first.
Get over the money thing. My issue is the who you bought the RV from. That RV looks like the one Samuel “bought you” as a present for your mom to move into.
My cheeks flamed. I was caught. Samuel hadn’t liked the amount of money I was contributing to my mom’s care, so his great idea was moving her into the trailer, “She’ll love living close to you. You’re great at taking care of people.” The plan had nothing to do with what was best for my mom, the purpose was to free up funds for Samuel’s business ventures. It was the start of the end of our new marriage.
Cassie’s new stepmom felt it was time for the high school senior to “adult” and part of the plan was for Cassie to live in the trailer. After being gifted the RV, Cassie figured if there was no motorhome to live in, the woman couldn’t kick her out of her house, so she drove it over to my house and offered to sell it to me.
It was a steal, I typed.
That’s what you should worry about. I can’t believe you trusted Samuel.
I didn’t, I responded back quickly. Cassie owned it. I bought it from her.
You know what they say about the apple and the tree.
Protectiveness zapped through me and a familiar anger burned in my gut. My hands clenched. Mama Bear was roaring to life. There was one thing that made me furious, bordering on murderous, anyone going after my cubs. And in my heart, Cassie would always be one.
And you know what they say about assumptions. I messaged back.
I know you care about her, goodness knows someone should. I stalked her Facebook page. She posted horrible things about her father and later apologized to him. Then she wrote you were heartless and wanted karma to strike you down. She knew the divorce was his fault but thought you should’ve stayed for her.
And I had. For a month longer than I should have. I hadn’t wanted to be another woman who up and left Cassie. Samuel had lived in Morgantown when Cassie was a baby but moved back to Season’s Greetings after Cassie’s mother left them, leaving a note stating she wasn’t the mother type. Since then, I believed Samuel had searched for a mother for his daughter and kept failing. There was a stepmother before me. And a fiancé before her. Now, her current stepmom was trying to force her out of her home.
I had fallen for Samuel when I was at my neediest. For the last twenty-three years, the focus of my life had been my children. The jobs I took were based on what was best for them and their schedule rather than for me. When my youngest, Scotland, got a job at the police department in Morgantown and moved, I went into a tailspin. I questioned every decision I had made and wondered about my purpose since I was no longer primarily a mom. The one thing I feared more than anything in the world, besides harm coming to my children, was being forgotten.
My children had warned me about Samuel. Neither Raleigh nor Scotland had liked the man. I believed it was because I hadn’t dated anyone since their father and I divorced, and my children always wanted me back with their dad, even disregarding the fact their father was remarried. I should’ve heeded my children’s advice about Samuel.
Ebenezer whistled and pressed his body against the cage. Did I want to risk him stinking up everything? I could put the Christmas trees and totes in the outside storage crawl space. Since I wasn’t driving anywhere, my concern of the trees hitting each other and scratching off the green paint was no longer valid.
Ebenezer needs out. I’ll send you pics of the booth tomorrow.
It’s a guinea pig. You don’t have to walk it.
But he does need to be aired out. He stinks to high heaven. I didn’t want to fight with Bright. She was my best friend. It was best to end the conversation now.
“You need a bath.” I reached into the cage and paused. Earlier, I had held Ebenezer under my nose. I hadn’t smelled him.
Ugh! Cassie must’ve hidden rotting food in the RV. No wonder she sold it to me for half the going rate. I walked right into her master plan for revenge. Would my creations—my work—absorb the stench? Once again, my heart got in my way. I left Ebenezer in the cage. Until I found what Cassie hid in my RV, I didn’t want Ebenezer roaming around. He
might eat it and get sick. Maybe whatever was causing the smell wasn’t Cassie’s fault. Our town was being overrun with feral cats and one might have gotten trapped somewhere. I wasn’t aware of a way a cat could wiggle itself into the main living space, but cats were resourceful creatures and capable of anything.
First thing: emptying out the living quarters. I laid a couple of plastic garbage bags on the ground near the hookups, then wrangled out a wooden tree and placed it on the bags to protect it from dirt and any rocks that might scratch the paint. The security lights in the trailer section of the parking switched on. At least I didn’t have to carry the flashlight with me. It was hard enough lugging out the trees without supplying my own light source.
“Merry Christmas, Mama said you need help.” The deep rumble came from behind me.
Smiling, I turned and greeted Abraham. “I could use it. I have a lot of trees to bring outside.”
At six foot two and a solid wall of muscle, Abraham was an opposing figure. His expression was always serious, lending itself to the menacing nature of his appearance. It was deceiving. Abraham was a sweet soul in a fear-inducing body. He had a cognitive disability, which made him miss social cues and caused his mother a lot of angst as people took his ignoring personal space as a threat. It brought joy to my heart knowing she felt safe to send him over to help without following him.
“I’ll get them for you, Merry Christmas.”
For years, I’ve explained to Abraham that my name was just Merry, but he had latched onto the way I explained my name and the two are forever linked.
“Thanks. I could use the help.”
Abraham stepped into the living area. “It smells horrible in here.”
“I know.” I followed Abraham into the RV. “I think someone left some food in here before they sold it to me, or a cat got stuck somewhere and died.”
Abraham spun around, a horrified expression twisted his features. “A cat died? I love cats. Cats are nice to me.” His pitch amplified with every word.
I grimaced, regretting voicing my cat theory. Abraham loved animals. Most times more than people. What if it was a dead cat? I didn’t want that image stuck in Abraham’s head. My gaze fell on Ebenezer. Perfect.
As Abraham carried out the last tree, I picked up Ebenezer’s cage and grabbed a blanket off the bed. The temperature had dropped, and I wanted Ebenezer to stay warm. Technically, he wore a fur coat, but I wasn’t sure how long it would take to find the source of the smell and didn’t want Ebenezer to lose a lot of body heat.
Abraham placed the tree on top of the pile then tucked the garbage bags around them. “Keeps them nice and dry. I love Christmas trees. You did a good job on these, Merry Christmas.”
“As a thank you for helping, you can pick one to take home.”
Abraham shook his head. “Helping doesn’t require a present. I help because it is the right thing to do.” He tilted his head and smiled. “Who’s your friend?”
“This is Ebenezer. I was hoping you could keep an eye on him while I tidied up the RV. Ebenezer hasn’t had any fresh air today. I brought a blanket out for him since it’s cold.”
“I can do that for you.” Gently, Abraham took the cage from me. “That’s an awfully big blanket. It won’t fit inside his cage.”
“It’s to cover it.”
Abraham frowned. “Then Ebenezer won’t be able to see the stars. I’ll let him use one of my gloves as a blanket. We’ll sit by your trees and protect them until we can move them inside.”
My heart sparkled. Abraham was such a sweet soul. “Your hands will get cold. Ebenezer will be okay not looking at the stars.”
Abraham pulled out a pair of wool gloves from his coat pocket. “I carry extra in case someone needs them.”
If more people were like Abraham, the world would have less strife. I walked back up the stairs and flipped the switch for the slide-outs to open. The stench blossomed. I gagged and covered my nose with my hand. I ran back to my bedroom and dug out a pair of knee length socks embroidered with reindeer. I unrolled them and tied one of the socks around my nose the other around my mouth. Thankfully, I had the foresight to pick up gloves and trash bags. I was going to need them.
I opened every window. The smell was strongest around the kitchen and dinette, the best place to start the search. I ran my hand over the dark gray granite counter top that doubled as a sink. Tears dotted my vision. I swiped them away. This was a minor annoyance. Before long, this would be an aggravating memory that one day I’d laugh and roll my eyes about. I stuck my finger in the hole of the granite cutting board that hid the kitchen sink and lifted it. Nope, not in there. Too easy. Cassie would make me work for the solution.
Retrieving a step stool from the pantry, I thoroughly checked the upper cabinets. Right now, the cabinets over the fridge stored supplies I might need for personalizing some of my products. The 12x24 mats fit up there perfectly along with paint and brushes for any necessary touch-up to the wooden trees.
I crawled under the dinette. The smell felt thick here. The dinette seats were also storage. I remembered that from when Samuel and I originally toured the RV at the dealership. Cassie had given me the spiel of all the storage space I’d have for my crafts: underneath storage compartment, the bed that was over the driver’s area, under bed storage in the bedroom. She listed them all except for the dinette. There were small half-moon smudges of dirt on the edge of the upholstery. Yep. This was the place.
“I should’ve searched this—” I yanked the seat up.
The smell smacked me in the face. Breath clogged in my throat. Samuel, neck tilted at an awkward angle, stared up at me. His body was squished into the five-foot-long space. One hand near his ear, the other palm up on his chest. Brown eyes opened and vacant. I swayed. The room darkened.
Screaming, I slammed the lid down and collapsed onto the dinette. I flung myself off, clipping my cheek and arm against the dinette table. Pushing myself backward on my hands and derrière, I put distance between me and the awful truth. My back pressed against the wall.
Gasping sobs escaped from me. I brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around my legs, rocking myself back and forth to try and settle my heart and mind.
Samuel was dead. Murdered. In the RV I had just bought from his daughter.
Oh God, what had Cassie done?
Two
“Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!”
Abraham screamed my name. Shook my arm. I couldn’t move. React. Talk. I felt so cold. My gaze wandered over to the dinette bench.
Whatever expression was on my face caused Abraham to rush over and reach for the seat. “I’ll get it out.”
He thought there was a dead animal in the storage compartment. I couldn’t let him see Samuel. I sprung to my feet and grabbed his arm. “Don’t open it!”
Too late. Abraham stumbled backward, a look of horror on his face. He stared at me with wide eyes. “That man. He’s dead.”
I nodded. What else could I do? The police. Call the police. With a shaking hand, I pulled out my cell. How would I explain it? How could I? I didn’t know what was going on. Why was Samuel in my RV? Dead.
I grabbed Abraham’s arm. “We have to leave.”
“That man. Did he hurt you?” Abraham glared at Samuel’s body.
“I didn’t know he was in there. He scared me when I saw him.” I tugged Abraham toward the door.
“How did he die?”
“I don’t know. We have to get out of here.” Cassie’s name flittered into my head. No. Not possible. The voice of suspicion was persistent. Why was she so insistent on selling you the RV today?
Abraham refused to budge. “Maybe he needs our help.”
“No, he doesn’t.” My voice took on a high-pitch, nearly hysterical quality. “Let’s go.”
“Merry? Abraham? What’s going on?” Grace, Abraham’s mother,
stood on the threshold of the RV.
Relief flooded through me. I pulled her aside and whispered furiously what I discovered in the seat storage area as I kept an eye on Abraham. He was still standing in front of the dinette with his hands tucked into his back pockets. The tilt of his head suggested he was struggling with my “don’t touch” order.
“Abraham, where’s Ebenezer?” I threw out the only idea that might get him away from the bench.
“He’s outside near the trees. You screamed. If someone screams that means they’re in trouble. I came to help.”
Grace took her son’s hand and pulled him away from the dinette area, avoiding looking at Samuel’s body. “I am so proud of you for protecting Merry. I thought something was wrong, so I called the police. Can you wait near our trailer and point out Merry’s to them?”
Abraham nodded. “I’ll bring Ebenezer with me so he doesn’t have to stay out in the cold.”
“Thank you,” I said. “That’s a wonderful idea.”
“We should wait outside.” With a steadying grip on my elbow, Grace led me out.
I shivered. She unwrapped one end of her shawl from her shoulders and draped it over me, pulling me to her side. We stood there, side-by-side, staring at my dream that had now become my nightmare. The stars twinkled overhead. I gazed up, wishing with all my might this was a horrible dream. The cold penetrating through the shawl, and into my body, told me this was reality. A horrible reality I’d have to explain to the police. But how?
Why was Samuel—a dead Samuel—in my RV? The RV that his daughter had sold me. Was that why she was desperate to sell? My stomach clenched. I placed a hand on my stomach and drew in small puffs of air.
“What happened?” Grace tightened the shawl around us.
“The RV smelled horrendous. I was looking for what was rotting. I didn’t know it would be my ex-husband.” My body quaked. Bile rose in my throat. I sucked in breaths through my nose, hoping to settle the sick feeling.
This was supposed to be a fantastic weekend. The beginning of my dreams coming true. I could expand Merry and Bright Handcrafted Christmas and make it my only full-time job. No more seasonal jobs. Focus on Christmas crafting year-round. There was travel in my future. The RV allowed me to visit the places in the United States I had read and dreamt about.
NOT a CREATURE WAS STIRRING Page 2
