It Came Upon a Midnight Crime: Squeaky Clean Mysteries, Book 2.5 (a Christmas novella)

by Christy Barritt

  “You want to pay him a visit?”

  “Tomorrow morning?”

  “You’ve got it.”

  ***

  The next morning, Riley had a court date with one of his clients, so Chad and I headed out by ourselves. We pulled into an older community in the neighboring city of Chesapeake, stopping at the nicest house on the block. Weren’t the nicest houses always the funeral homes? This one had been grand at one time with three levels and a turret to boot.

  We strode up to the front door, which was unlocked, and walked inside. The lobby was empty and a little run down with matted gold carpet, shiny mahogany tables and extravagant flower arrangements in shades of mauve and country blue. Worse than that was the smell—musty and old. Not exactly what you want to smell when you pay honor to the deceased.

  A thin woman with a neat but oversized black dress suit stepped from one of the side rooms. Her salt and pepper hair was pulled back into a tight bun and her dark eyes struck me as being ever perceptive. “Can I help you?”

  “I was hoping to speak with Benjamin Videl,” Chad started. “I’m a fellow mortician.”

  Her lips pulled into a tight line as she stared at us a moment. “I’m afraid he’s busy right now.”

  “It’s actually concerning an official investigation,” I piped in. It was a good thing I’d decided to wear my one and only suit today. Perhaps I actually looked “official.”

  She blinked. “Investigation?”

  I nodded. “We need his help. We’ve heard he’s one of the best.” As I always liked to say, flattery would get you everywhere.

  Finally, she nodded. “One moment.” She disappeared down a staircase.

  I stared at the little breath mints on the table, along with the boxes of tissues. Wherever I looked, there seemed to be something to remind people of the name of the funeral home, complete with gold script and a curvy line at the bottom. Why did that logo look so familiar to me? Did they have some kind of advertising campaign on TV or somewhere?

  Funeral homes were not my favorite place. Memories of my mom’s memorial service flooded back to me. I remembered all the hugs from well-wishers, the sympathetic pats on the back, the total absence of emotion from my dad, who’d totally withdrawn in the days after her death. To be honest, he’d withdrawn before her death also; afterward it only got worse, though.

  A moment later, a skeleton of a man crept up the stairs. He looked exactly as I thought a mortician might, complete with pale skin and black hair that had been slicked back from his face. He was tall, had a pointy nose, and overbearing eyebrows that just begged to be plucked.

  This was our guy.

  No, I couldn’t think like that. Just because the man looked creepy as he came up from the dark basement of a creepy house didn’t mean he was guilty.

  “Can I help you?”

  I was the first to extend my hand. Moist fingers met mine, and I wanted to cringe. “I’m Gabby St. Claire and we’re looking into several suspicious incidents that have happened in the area lately. Someone told us you might be able to help.”

  Chad nudged himself in front of me. “And I’m Chad Davis. I’m a mortician by trade, but I gave that career up a while ago. It was starting to get to me.”

  The man’s beady gaze slunk back and forth between both of us. His eyebrows were thick and heavy, adding to his brooding look. “How can I help?”

  Chad and I glanced at each other before I finally jumped in. “It’s like this. Someone’s destroying Christmas displays in the area. Embalmed body parts have been found at the scene.”

  His eyebrows shot up. “You think I’m responsible?” His voice sounded eerily calm and steady, and he seemed deathly still.

  Chad shook his head, shoving his hands down into his pockets. “We’re wondering if you know who might be.”

  He shrugged, his eyes focused on Chad with somewhat of a cold calculation. “Why would I know?”

  “We’re chasing every lead, trying to figure out if there are any morticians who are doing some shady things on the side.”

  “I know a few of my colleagues in the area.” He dropped his head toward his shoulder. “But I’m not going to point the finger at any of them. It wouldn’t be very professional.” He crossed his arms over his bony chest and paused. “Why would someone do that?”

  I shrugged this time. “Maybe they’re not capable of murder, but they want to send a clear message.”

  “Well, I’m sorry, but I can’t be of any help. I don’t know any respectable person in this business who would do such a thing. It’s horrendous and a disgrace to the profession.” He glared at Chad. “You would understand that.”

  Chad’s hands went to his hips in that casual way that he was known for. “You’re right. I do realize that. But how else would someone be getting embalmed body parts?”

  “Have you considered they might be grave diggers?” Benjamin stared at us, his eyes icy cold.

  Grave diggers? I supposed that could be a possibility. But I had limited resources. There was no way I could check out every cemetery in this area for signs of vandalism. There was also no chance that Detective Adams would share that information with me.

  Besides, there was something about this man that I found unsettling.

  I glanced beyond him. The woman who’d greeted us stood in the dark, halfway down the staircase. She’d been listening the whole time but hadn’t shown her face.

  Was something strange going on here? Or was my imagination out of control simply because I was in a spooky old funeral home?

  Chapter 7

  Do You See What I See?

  “Why aren’t we moving?” Chad stared at me from the passenger seat.

  I leaned back into my seat, turning down the radio, which had begun blaring “All I Want for Christmas Is You.” It made my mind go places I didn’t want it to go—places that included Riley and me having a happy-ever-after. That was one place that should never be visited because it was known as Delusionville.

  I nodded toward the funeral home. “I want to follow him.”

  “Why? Because he looked like an oddball?”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. Something just seemed strange about our interaction. Don’t you think?”

  “Morticians work by themselves. That one works in the basement by himself. And he keeps company primarily with dead bodies. Sure, maybe there was something strange about him, but that doesn’t mean he’s behind these crimes.”

  “That doesn’t mean he’s not either.” I shrugged. “Besides, I don’t have any more leads. I don’t know where else to look and I have no desire to stake out a cemetery trying to figure out if someone is stealing dead bodies.”

  Chad grinned at me. “To see if Santa is stealing dead bodies, to be precise. You did say that’s how the perpetrator was dressing.”

  “Yeah, how weird and Halloween-like would that be? The only thing that would make it weirder would be if they were leaving Thanksgiving meals behind as well.”

  “And Valentines. And maybe some Easter Eggs. Or fireworks.”

  “Aren’t you funny?”

  He rubbed the tips of his fingers on his shirt in mock cockiness. “I’d like to think so.”

  My lip curled in a half smile. “Just one more thing to love about you.” As soon as I said the words, my smile slipped. I did not want him to get the wrong idea about love and me.

  Thankfully, just at that moment, Benjamin Videl stepped out of the back door of the funeral home. He looked both directions before scurrying to a black sedan parked in the driveway. Chad and I were in my van, which was located in the parking lot of a church across the street. Thanks to my tinted windows, I didn’t think he’d noticed me.

  I eased out behind him, careful to stay a respectable distance away.

  Chad’s feet remained propped up on the dashboard. He was as laidback as ever, which really did help to balance my neurotic impulsiveness. “What do you think this is going to prove, Gabby?”

  “Nothing. Something. I don�
��t know. Who do you think I am? Super Sleuth, Avenger of the Ghost of Christmas Present?”

  “That has a nice ring to it. I kind of like it.”

  I slapped his arm. “Are you ever serious?”

  “When we almost died back in November I was pretty serious.”

  I shuddered at the thought. Yes, he was. We both were. That happened when your life was on the line. And it all had been because of a fake Elvis. My life was anything but boring. I’d give it that.

  He wound through the neighborhood and into Norfolk. As Benjamin pulled into a subdivision, he slowed in front of a house.

  A house with thousands of lights and wooden figures, plastic figures, blow-up figures, and everything in-between. The place was a true tribute to the Griswolds from National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation. He paused there, staring from his car window at the spectacle.

  “Do you see what I see?” I mumbled.

  “A star dancing in the night?”

  I swerved my head toward him, instantly picking up on his Christmas song reference. “We’ve been hanging around for way too long.” I pointed to the decorations just as Benjamin pulled away. “That’s the house he’s going to hit tonight.” I nodded confidently as hope surged in me.

  “I have to admit. That did seem eerie. You could be right.”

  I glanced over at Chad. “We’ve got to be there to catch him.”

  ***

  “This was not what I thought you had in mind.” Chad turned toward me and scowled, the expression obvious despite the big white beard covering his face.

  I readjusted my halo and smiled. “I think this is perfect.”

  Tucked beneath the folds of my angel dress was a camera so I could snap pictures as evidence. I also had on a coat with my cell phone in the pocket, just in case. I’d invited Riley, but he had practice for the Living Christmas Tree.

  Earlier, Chad and I had paid a visit to Wanda, the homeowner. She was in her forties, plump with curly brown hair, and had the biggest eyes I’d ever seen. We explained about the other homes that had been vandalized. Her mouth had dropped open in horror. She’d agreed that we could set up our “sting” operation in hopes of catching the culprit.

  Since the woman had some life-sized mannequins displayed in her front yard, we blended right in . . . when we could stay still, at least. The cold made my nose run and my eyes water. We’d been standing here for an hour already. A line of cars had continuously driven past. This house was probably a yearly tradition for many spectators wanting something obnoxious to gawk at. I wondered if Jesus ever imagined his birth would turn into something like this. I wondered if it pleased or disappointed him.

  There I went, thinking about Jesus like he was real. But maybe he was. Why was I being so resistant to the idea right now?

  Soon, the owner would turn off the lights and “retire” for the night. That’s when the culprit would strike.

  Chad remained still and only moved his lips—just as I’d instructed him. “Couldn’t we have just stayed in the car for the same effect?”

  “It wouldn’t have been nearly as much fun. Plus, he might have seen the van and recognized it.”

  Suddenly, everything went dark. I saw the curtain move, and Wanda waved ‘okay’ to us. I nodded back to her. We told her not to come out and talk to us, just in case someone was watching. We didn’t want to blow our cover.

  Without the lights on, everything seemed spookier, like we were in some kind of Christmas ghost town.

  The minutes ticked by. The wind caused the branches of some nearby trees to clack together. The full moon above us seemed like an omen of bad things to come. Pine needles on a nearby evergreen swished together, almost as if nature was whispering about us.

  Then everything got quiet. Too quiet?

  Movement in the side yard caught my eye. My heart sped as perspiration sprinkled across my forehead. What was that? A deranged killer planning a sneak attack?

  A screech cut through the air. My scream caught in my throat as I jumped toward Chad. My hands trembled as I grasped his arm. “What was that?”

  Chad pointed in the distance, a smile pulling at his lips. “A cat. Just a cat.”

  Just then, I saw the feline’s eyes glowing green from the grove of pine trees. It wasn’t just a cat, either. It was a black cat. I let out an airy laugh and released my death grip on Chad. I brushed myself off and raised my chin, acting like I’d known the whole time. “Of course.”

  I realized that Chad was right—this was a bad idea. My legs hurt, my skin felt like it had a layer of frost on it, and I wondered if Benjamin Videl was even going to show up here tonight at all.

  Chad kept himself entertained by singing the Twelve Days of Christmas. I chuckled uneasily under my breath as he tried desperately to think of what objects went with the numbers. Eleven chicks a dancing? Seven sluggers slugging? I couldn’t do much better.

  Of course, the way my thoughts were going didn’t take me down the entertainment route. No, I was thinking about Five Golden Teeth, Four Strands of Hair, Three Crime Scenes, Two Sitting Ducks, and the Ear of a Dead Wise Man.

  My bones felt brittle from the cold, but my nerves felt even more brittle as the minutes ticked by. At midnight—I’d just checked my watch a few minutes earlier—a car swerved into the driveway.

  I braced myself, ready to run in case the car kept going and tried to run us over. The driver slammed on the brakes and cut his headlights. My shoulders loosened some—but only temporarily.

  I stared at the car. It was a dark color. Black maybe? Black, as in, Benjamin Videl’s car?

  I tried to remain perfectly still, but more than anything, I wanted to glance at Chad, to exchange “that look” that proved we were onto something.

  I couldn’t believe Benjamin had pulled into the driveway. Didn’t he have more sense than that? It seemed awfully brazen to me.

  He climbed from the car, a bag slung over his shoulder. My throat went dry at the sight. What was in that bag? A head? A hand? Some other kind of decomposing body part?

  His gaze scanned the life-sized decorations in front of the house. What was he planning? A bombing? At least he hadn’t run us over—yet.

  I could see the confusion on his face as he paced through the front yard, examining each of the figures there. That’s when my nerves starting tightening. Examining each of the figures? That was definitely not something I’d planned on. I figured the person behind these acts simply came, did their deed, and left.

  I tried not to breathe. I knew my breath would be frosty in front of me. But how long could I hold my breath without passing out? That remained to be seen.

  The man was clearly Benjamin. We’d been right.

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out a . . . lighter? Was he planning to burn this down? He walked right toward Chad and me.

  I could feel myself turning blue from lack of air. I couldn’t hold my breath much longer, and some psycho just might be planning on setting me on fire.

  He got closer, that lighter extended out in front of him.

  Suddenly, Santa-Chad burst to life. “No!” Chad yelled before tackling Ben the Mortician.

  Benjamin dropped everything and began flailing his hands in the air and screaming like a girl as Chad pinned him on the ground.

  Had we just single-handedly saved Christmas?

  So it appeared.

  Just then, all the lights came on. Wanda scrambled from the house, her phone in hand, and her eyes wide with worry. “Did you catch him? Did you catch the man behind this?”

  Chad stood, half of his beard now wrapped around the side of his face. He pulled Benjamin up by his coat. “We sure did. And it’s all thanks to you.”

  Wanda gasped, lunging forward and swatting at Chad. “Let go of him!”

  “Why would we do that? He tried to set us on fire!” I tried to hold her back, tried to protect my friend from the mayhem. The woman was stronger than I thought, especially when she elbowed me in the gut before scrambling toward Benja
min.

  “Because this man’s my husband! He put up all of these Christmas decorations.”

  Chapter 8

  Police Navidad

  I sat in Benjamin Videl’s house, along with Chad whom I’d pulled into this mess. He wasn’t very happy with me. I couldn’t blame him either. He could be facing assault charges and both us could be charged with trespassing. I wondered what Riley would say if I asked him to post bail or represent us?

  “Ms. St. Claire, you have some explaining to do or I will be calling the police.” Benjamin Videl narrowed his eyes at me.

  I dug my hands into the upholstered sofa, finally deciding to sit on my fingers in an effort to regain feeling in my frozen digits. “It’s like I told you. I followed you and saw you drive past this house today. You lingered outside for long enough that I got suspicious.”

  “I’m allowed to drive past my own house!” Benjamin nearly came out of his seat, lunging toward me with fury glowing in his eyes.

  I held up my hands, prepared to defend myself both physically and verbally if need be. “You didn’t even go inside! You just lingered outside on the street in your car. That’s called suspicious in my book.”

  “I wanted to make sure all of the lights and figures were working properly! I knew I wouldn’t be getting home until late tonight because my part-timer called in sick again.” He pointed toward his front yard. “This is what I love to do. I add to my Christmas collection every year. I’ve made the newspaper with my light shows. I love Christmas. I don’t want to destroy it!”

  I bit my lip. I’d really messed up this time, hadn’t I?

  “Why would you think my husband was guilty in the first place?” Wanda waited for my response. She stood between us like a referee. Only I’d been the one who’d been stuck with a penalty.

  Chad cleared his throat, still drowning in his Santa costume. “We narrowed down a list of possible morticians in the area who might be guilty.”