Cozy Christmas Crimes - A Cozy Christmas Box Set

by Tonya Kappes

  Remembering her state of mind at the time that she’d purchased the lock, she took a chance and set the numbers and letters to “2 smart 4 U,” pulling down firmly on the hasp. The lock clicked open with an audible metallic clonk, and she glanced furtively about, making sure that no one had heard. Marilyn quietly crept into her own store like a thief in the night, thankful that she knew how to navigate the space in the dark. She made her way to the walk-in freezer, opening it just far enough to accommodate her slim frame, but hopefully not far enough that the light from it would catch the attention of the officer outside, and slipped in. A blast of frigid air chilled her to the bone. The inside light clicked off when she pulled the door almost closed behind her, leaving it open just a crack so that she didn’t get locked inside. The flashlight app on her phone illuminated the inside of the freezer just enough, showing shelves that were neatly stacked with the ingredients necessary for making her mouthwatering treats.

  Shivering a bit, Marilyn surveyed the contents of the giant refrigerator, taking a quick inventory. She fixed her gaze on the strawberries for a moment, brow furrowed. Removing several boxes from a shelf, she peered into each of them intently, then put them back. She then turned to the shelves which held her large containers of condensed milk, sour cream, and butter. She perused those containers thoughtfully as well, her fingers trailing along them as she puzzled and pondered, her teeth chattering in the cold. Picking up the most recently used container of sour cream, she lifted the lid. It took just one sniff for Marilyn to determine that this carton contained whipped cream filling, not sour cream…and she would bet anything that that filling was poisoned.

  She nearly jumped out of her skin when the door to the walk-in opened, and a strange sense of foreboding shook her when she saw her newest employee step toward her.

  “Hi Marilyn,” Susan said quietly, with a strange look on her face. “I’m sorry about this, I really am.”

  “Sorry about what?” Marilyn’s heart was beating so fast she thought it might burst.

  The cold was seeping into her bones and she felt the harsh metal interior of the refrigerator closing in around her like an icy cave. Somehow knowing that her life depended upon how she handled the next few minutes of this interaction, she smiled sadly and spoke in a low, comforting voice, trying hard to keep her body from giving in to fits of uncontrollable shivering.

  “I know what happened Susan…” Marilyn soothed. “I would be upset too. I can’t even imagine how difficult things have been for you…” she began, only to be abruptly interrupted.

  “Which is why I need that,” she demanded, extending her hand for the container of filling.

  “Why don’t we step outside,” Marilyn suggested, trying hard not to panic. “We can talk about what happened, we can talk about Wyatt—”

  “—don’t say his name,” Susan hissed, suddenly furious. “Don’t act like you knew him. You didn’t. You have your family, so you couldn’t possibly understand,” the enraged woman snarled.

  She reached for the container but Marilyn stepped back, bumping into the strawberry shelf.

  “Please, Susan, let’s talk outside,” she pleaded.

  It felt as though Susan must have turned the temperature down before she opened the door, and if she had…that could only mean one thing.

  “You can’t do this, Susan, my daughter is innocent, and you have let the police know that. If you don’t, you’ll be doing the same thing to me that Fergus did to you. You’ll be taking away the person that I love most in this world…You’ll be just like Fergus Susan, only you’ll be doing it on purpose. Please…for Wyatt,” Marilyn said quietly, remembering in vivid detail the story that she’d seen on the internet earlier.

  Tears welled in the unbalanced woman’s eyes. “Stop saying his name,” she screamed, spittle flying as she became even more unhinged.

  “You loved Wyatt, and I love my daughter,” Marilyn persisted, her teeth chattering so hard that she could barely speak.

  She had to get out of the refrigerator soon, she was so cold that it was beginning to affect her ability to think. She moved toward the door.

  “Stop!” Susan lunged, hitting Marilyn with the full force of her weight.

  Marilyn slammed into a shelving unit, her head knocking into the edge of the shelf as her feet slid out from under her. The deranged woman ran for the door and slammed it behind her as Marilyn stumbled, trying to get to her feet. She launched herself at the door, trying desperately to open it from the inside. She heard the bolt click in to place, her body wracked with pain and uncontrollable shivering. She forced herself to focus, despite the numbing cold that seemed to be overtaking her. There had to be a way to get out, a safety panel or an emergency system.

  Feeling along the cold edges of the door, she came up with nothing but a searing pain jolting through her fingertips. Tucking her hands under her arms, in a vain attempt to bring some warmth back into them, she sat on the floor, conserving body heat, her eyes scanning the other walls. Too cold to even cry, she banged her pitiful fists on the door, screaming in frustration.

  Hearing a noise just outside the door, Marilyn didn’t move, hoping that Susan hadn’t come back to kill her more quickly. Her eyes locked on the handle as she heard the bolt unlatch. The door swung open with amazing force, and towering above her, the light illuminating him from behind was Detective Bernard Cortland.

  “I…I’m…sssssooo…glad…ttttto…ssseeee…you,” she shivered, tears of relief streaming down her face.

  The handsome detective lifted her effortlessly to a standing position, then moved her out of what could very well have been her frosty tomb.

  “Well, you left a message saying you were about to break the law by tampering with evidence. I couldn’t exactly ignore that, now could I?” he teased, surreptitiously looked her over to make sure she hadn’t suffered any injuries aside from being half frozen.

  Marilyn smiled faintly, “You knew I was right.”

  “About what?” Cortland raised an eyebrow.

  She was trembling violently and he wrapped his jacket around her, moving her away from the refrigerator, out the door, and into the balmy island evening.

  “That I knew who poisoned Fergus.”

  She handed Bernard the sour cream container that now felt almost frozen to her fingers.

  “The evidence is in there.”

  Bernard took the tub and handed it off to the officer at the front door, instructing him to “bag it.” He then called for an ambulance and for backup, handling it all so fast that Marilyn was having trouble focusing on him.

  “Ok let’s go,” he said, steering her toward his patrol car.

  “I’m fine, just chilled,” Marilyn protested, enjoying the feel of his hand at the small of her back.

  “We’ll let the EMT’s decide that,” the detective looked at her with concern, putting an arm over her shoulders. “Let’s get you warmed up.” Too cold and drained to argue, she nodded and walked in step with him.

  “So tell me what happened,” Cortland encouraged, loading her into the car and trying to take her mind off of the cold.

  “I was looking for news, so I did an internet search on all of the suspects. When I searched Fergus’s name, I ran into a story about four boys in high school who had been drinking at a party and stupidly decided to get in a car. There was a tragic crash. Three of the boys, Fergus Downey, Fulton Keller, and Bobby Buris, lived, and one of the boys died…Wyatt D’Amico. It turns out that Wyatt had a little sister named Susan. Things really got scary when I looked up the other boys who had been in the car.”

  Cortland raised his eyebrows and took a notebook out of his breast pocket.

  “Fulton died a year ago and his cause of death was never determined. Fergus as you know, was poisoned, and Bobby Buris is alive and living in DC, but probably won’t be for long if you don’t find Susan,” she explained.

  “But why would she seek revenge for her brother’s death now, after so many years?” the detective’s
eyes narrowed.

  “I don’t know. She told the truth when I met her, her husband did die recently, maybe that pushed her over the edge,” she guessed, shaking her head. “She broke down a couple of times when she thought about him. Maybe she was so destroyed emotionally that she just…snapped. And Fergus did try to flirt with her when she first started working for me.”

  An ambulance pulled in behind Cortland’s cruiser.

  “Couldn’t you just drive me to the hospital if we’re going to insist on this?” she sighed.

  Bernard gave her a look.

  “I have to stay here and secure the scene,” he reminded her.

  Marilyn was checked out by the EMT’s, and as soon as they released her, she headed toward home to check on Tiara, stopping when she heard Detective Cortland calling her name.

  “Aren’t you supposed to be securing the scene?” she teased wanly as he jogged over to her.

  The straight-arrow detective actually cracked a smile.

  “Thanks to your detective work, I was able to wrap it up pretty quickly. Miami has their team in there for another sweep, but my work here is done. We picked up the perpetrator as she was packing her bags to leave town. Turns out she has more than a few aliases and has been on the run ever since her husband died…of very suspicious circumstances. Your simple internet search enabled us to catch a serial killer. I thought the least I could do is offer you a lift home.”

  “Oh my, that’s scary, but it’s a relief to know that she won’t be able to hurt anyone else,” Marilyn felt relief flood through her. “Yes, I’d like a ride home, thank you,” she replied, more than ready for some quality time in the company of Bernard Cortland.

  Nodding, he offered her his arm and led her to his unmarked cruiser.

  “I don’t suppose you’d like to drop by for a piece of pie sometime?” Marilyn asked, surprised at her own boldness, as they crossed the street.

  “Only if I can watch you make it,” the detective joked, raising his eyebrows.

  Copyright Summer Prescott 2018

  All Rights Reserved.