How the Finch Stole Christmas

by J. R. Ripley

  “All this effort to fix things at Christmas House Village, make everybody happy . . .”

  I pulled my hand back. Something weird was going on and I couldn’t figure out what it was. “What’s wrong with that?”

  “Nothing. Nothing is wrong with it, Amy.” The corners of Derek’s mouth twisted downward. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?” My hands gripped the arms of my rocker.

  Derek appeared saddened. “Because there’s not going to be anymore Christmas House Village—not Finch’s, not Kinley’s. Nobody’s.”

  “I don’t understand.” I felt the ground slipping from beneath me.

  Derek ran a hand along the side of his neck. “Cozy Towne Inn is purchasing the business from Finch’s ex-wife.”

  I pushed my eyebrows together. “Why on earth would the Cozy Towne Inn Corporation want to buy Christmas House Village?”

  Derek looked at me. When he saw that I still didn’t get it, he filled me in. “Because they intend to tear it down and build a new Cozy Towne Inn.”

  “What?” I gasped as if I’d been hit in the stomach with a sledgehammer. “You mean, right here in downtown Ruby Lake?” That couldn’t be possible.

  Derek took my hand. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you, Amy.”

  My mouth went dry. “What about the town? What’s everybody else going to think?”

  Derek’s lips pulled tight. “It won’t matter what they think. The property doesn’t belong to them.”

  “But is that possible? Doesn’t the town have to approve a transaction like that? I mean, don’t they have to approve the development? A hotel—” I couldn’t come to grips with the news yet. “That’s quite a change from a quaint village of historic homes.”

  “It’s all perfectly legal. There was nothing the planning and zoning commission could do to stop it.”

  I fell into a chair in disbelief. “It’s one thing to imagine Christmas House Village with somebody else’s name on it. It’s impossible to imagine it gone!”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I wish I had some good news, but I don’t.”

  “Wait,” I said. “You knew all about this, didn’t you?”

  Derek paced in front of me. “You mean about the pending sale?” I nodded and he said yes.

  “Why didn’t you say something? Why didn’t you tell me?” Why did I feel like I had been stabbed in the back?

  “Because it’s my job, and I owe my clients my complete confidentiality. They trust me.”

  I jumped to my feet. I felt a tightening between my eyes. “I trusted you, too.”

  Derek stepped toward me but I backed away. “You can still trust me, Amy.” His hand reached for mine, but I left him hanging until he pulled his hand back.

  There was softness in his voice, but I wasn’t hearing it.

  “No, I don’t think I can, Derek.” I snatched his coat and thrust it at him.

  Derek lowered his head. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Amy.” He gripped my hands in his, then let them go. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

  My heart lurched as he walked away.

  31

  I sat alone in my apartment and I moped. When I was done moping, I moped some more.

  I would have kept on moping except that it was seven o’clock at night and Kim was banging on the apartment door.

  I rose, zombielike, and let her in.

  “Come on in.”

  Kim wore a bright red scarf and a black wool coat open to the waist. Underneath, she wore a bulky white sweater and blue jeans. “Are you okay?” she asked as she unwound her scarf and let it drop to the floor.

  “Good as it gets.” I sniffled. I had already shared my news with her on the telephone. I had settled on a pair of dark blue corduroys and a blue wool sweater. The color matched my mood.

  “Have a seat.” I waved to the sofa and went to get a bottle of wine and two glasses. So far, I’d been feeding my sorrow on chocolates. I had already devoured three-quarters of a box of Otelia Newsome’s best assorted from Otelia’s Chocolates, located conveniently across the street.

  “Are you sure you want to go through with this?”

  I extended my hand and Kim took one of the glasses I held by its stem. “Yep. Everything’s ready. Riley brought the suit.”

  I gestured toward the big canvas sack on the floor, leaning against the kitchen counter. “He made me promise to have it back by tomorrow.” I unscrewed the cap on the sangria and poured us each a glass. “He also made me promise not to mess up the costume. The Christmas show starts tomorrow. It won’t be much of a show without Santa.”

  I had asked him to borrow the Santa Claus costume for me. He’d gotten it from the community theater. His butt was on the line if I let anything happen to it.

  “Let’s hope there are no bullet holes then.” Kim filled her glass and drained it in a matter of seconds. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to stay in? We can drink away our troubles.”

  I took a drink to show my support. “That’s all well and good for tonight, but what about tomorrow and the next day?”

  Kim shrugged and refilled our glasses. “We could move to Florida.”

  “Florida is for snowbirds. I prefer real birds.”

  “And I prefer burying my head in the sand like an ostrich,” groused Kim.

  “That’s a myth.” I laughed.

  “Really?”

  “Really. What would happen to you if you buried your head in the sand?”

  Kim thought for a moment. “I’d suffocate?”

  “Bingo. Ostriches have got to breathe, too.”

  Kim nodded solemnly. “I never thought of that.”

  “Last one,” I said, lifting my glass. “I have to drive.” Chocolate and sangria in small quantities might be good, might be very good, but all that chocolate and sugar sloshing around in fruity alcohol was beginning to do strange things to my stomach.

  And my head.

  We sat in silence a moment. It was just the two of us. Mom had gone with her sister to do some volunteer work at the high school where she’d once taught. They were helping supervise the school’s Christmas float construction.

  “Have you talked to Derek, I mean, since . . .”

  I felt a tear roll down my cheek. “No.”

  Kim snatched her purse from the cushion beside her and pulled out a pack of tissues. She handed me one.

  I ignored the flimsy tissue and grabbed the pack. “Thanks.” I pulled a couple of tissues loose and wiped my runny nose. “I don’t think I can trust him anymore.”

  “He was only doing his job, Amy,” Kim said softly. “Do you think Dan tells me everything that happens at his job? He’s a police officer. There’s probably a lot more that he doesn’t tell me. More than I’ll ever even know.”

  My lips drew a straight line. “Derek’s not a cop. He’s a lawyer.”

  “Who has to respect his clients’ privacy.”

  “Not helping.” I rubbed the ball of tissues under my nose.

  “I talked to Mr. Belzer today. He confirmed that Mr. Finch’s ex telephoned him this afternoon, as a courtesy, to tell him that she has decided to sell to Cozy Towne Inn.” Kim swirled her glass. “I guess she felt running Christmas House Village was more trouble than it was worth. Especially with her being so far away.”

  I nodded sourly. “Like Tyrone’s kids. Only worse. Now, instead of a name change from Kinley’s to Finch’s, Christmas House Village will be razed to make room for Cozy Towne Inn. Speaking of Tyrone’s kids, I still can’t figure out what part Toby Kinley might have played in all this.”

  “Maybe his being here is only a coincidence,” suggested Kim.

  “Maybe.”

  “But it’s the end of an era, all right.”

  I huffed out a breath and set down
my wineglass. I didn’t like coincidences. “Are we going to talk or are we going to do this?”

  “You can’t avoid this conversation forever, Amy.” She stood. “And you can’t avoid Derek.”

  Kim was right but I was sure she knew that, so there was no point in my telling her.

  I went to the kitchen and picked up the big sack containing the change of clothes. “Ready?”

  Kim nodded and I helped her swap her street clothes for the Santa suit. Kim held up the fluffy white beard. “Do I really have to wear this?”

  “You want to blend in, don’t you?”

  “What I want to do is disappear.” Kim grumbled but hooked the beard over her ears.

  I giggled.

  Kim glared at me. “That’s it, I’m taking it off! In fact, it’s all coming off!” She grabbed angrily at the black vinyl belt around her waist.

  “No.” I grabbed her arms. “You look cute. Adorable. Really.” She stopped resisting and I released her arms.

  We walked downstairs and out to the minivan. I hopped behind the wheel and Santa climbed in beside me. It was all I could do to stifle my laughter.

  “What if they won’t let us in?” Kim asked as I drove.

  “Who’s going to stop us? Eve Dunnellon is in the town jail and Mr. Finch is dead. I’ll bet we can go anywhere. Especially with you in that Santa suit.”

  Kim tugged self-consciously at her outfit. “It makes me look fat.” She glanced at her reflection in the windows. “And hairy.”

  I couldn’t help myself. I snorted. Kim thumped me in the upper arm.

  “Careful!” I admonished her. “I’m driving!”

  Without further ado, we made it to Christmas House Village, lights aglow, shoppers buzzing around with gift bags. Had they heard the news? Did they know that this was to be the last Christmas at Christmas House Village?

  The lights were on in Derek’s apartment. I had told myself I wouldn’t look, but I rarely listen to myself.

  I drove slowly into the alley behind Elf House and cut the engine.

  “Why are we parking here? Anybody could see us. We’re in Eve’s parking spot.”

  “That’s the point. I want everybody, or at least the real killer, to know exactly where I am.”

  Kim shook her head. “I still think you’re crazy to want to make some killer come after you. You could get hurt. Seriously, as in dead.”

  “Don’t remind me.” I pushed my hat down over my head, extracted the key from the ignition, and locked the minivan behind me while Kim climbed out the other side.

  We left the alley and followed the dimly lit path between Elf House and Reindeer House.

  “Here’s where we part company,” I whispered.

  “I don’t know about this.” Kim shivered and I didn’t think it was only because of the near-freezing temperature.

  “Just follow the plan. Walk around. Blend in.”

  “Fine.” Kim started to move away.

  I grabbed her sleeve. “Remember to keep an eye on me.”

  Kim gulped and nodded. “I will. But you’re putting a lot of faith in me, Amy. I hope it isn’t misplaced.”

  I grinned at her. “I’m sure it isn’t. Have you got your phone?”

  Kim nodded. “In my front pocket.” She had left her purse at my apartment.

  I watched from the pathway as Kim headed out to mingle with the shoppers. There was a crowd full of parents and their children in the area of Candy Cane Corner, where the petting zoo filled with sheep, goats, and llamas, was set up behind a white picket fence from Thanksgiving through New Year’s.

  The first thing I wanted was a better look at the alley and the window that had played a part in setting the scene of Franklin Finch’s suicide by hanging.

  The back of the house was poorly lit and the attic itself was dark. But it wasn’t all that farfetched to imagine someone spotting another person entering the house. Due to the pair of oval windows along the wall of the staircase, that same person could fairly easily see anyone passing the second floor on the way to the attic. All they had to do then, was yank a rope—a rope that maybe if looped loosely enough would slip free and slither out the window. Leaving no one any the wiser.

  It would look to any casual observer like Finch had just hung himself.

  At least, that appeared to have been the plan.

  And it hadn’t been a bad plan.

  Though it had taken a bad person to devise it.

  I felt fingers digging into my left shoulder and screamed. “Hey—” I spun around, flailing my arms as I did.

  “Whoa!”

  “Oh, it’s you!”

  “Are you okay, ma’am?” It was Leo, one of the security guards. He held a flashlight in his left hand.

  I tasted blood in my mouth. I had bitten my tongue. “Yeah, sorry. Are you okay?” I had clobbered him pretty good.

  Leo nodded and ran his beam along the fence. “I was leaving for the day and saw you standing here. I thought maybe you were lost.”

  “No. I was on my way inside.”

  “If you’re looking to do some shopping, I’d hurry if I was you. Christmas House Village closes in less than an hour.”

  I thanked him and watched him disappear around the corner. After that, I hurried toward the front. Not that I was scared, but there was nothing further to see in the alley.

  There was no sign of the killer and no sign of Kim. Hopefully, she was nearby.

  In case she was, I gestured to Elf House and pointed upward, indicating that I was now, as I had explained earlier, about to head upstairs to the loft.

  I hoped I knew what I was doing. I hoped the murderer was watching and would follow.

  And I hoped like I’ve never hoped for anything before in my entire life that Kim called the cops and they caught the murderer before the murderer caught me.

  I had Christmas presents to wrap, to say the least. Being murdered would put a definite crimp in my plans for my future. Not that that future appeared to include a certain lawyer any longer . . .

  The shop was busy, the elves were busy assisting customers, and nobody paid me any attention. I walked around the interior for a few minutes and was relieved to see Santa on the front porch. I waved and Santa gave me a thumb’s-up.

  I also saw Max, in uniform, prowling the walkway.

  Mrs. Fortuny was working the cash register. She gave me a puzzled look but otherwise was too busy to pay me any mind.

  I unzipped my puffy pink parka and sauntered over to the stairs and started climbing. I heard some soft sounds coming from the offices but ignored them and continued up.

  I paused and looked out one of the windows between the second and third floors. It was dark but I was certain I could be spotted from the alley.

  On the third floor, I stopped outside the loft. I was having second thoughts followed by third and fourth thoughts.

  What if Finch’s killer was inside? What if they had a rope and were waiting to tighten it around my neck?

  I bristled and felt a cold wind sweep over me—odd, considering I was indoors and the wind couldn’t reach me.

  Before I lost my resolve completely, I wrapped my fingers around the door knob and turned it. The door opened with a creak I normally only heard in horror movies.

  “Steady, Amy,” I whispered. “There’s nobody here and you don’t believe in ghosts.”

  I stepped into the dark loft. Besides, Kim should be inside now, mingling on the first floor, waiting to see who came up after me.

  Then all she had to do was call the police and all I had to avoid was having my throat wrapped in a rope necktie.

  I crossed the silent room to the window and looked down, resting my hand on the window sill. The alley was deserted.

  I turned at the sound of feet. A tall figure stepped through the open doorway and flicked
on the lights.

  It was William. He wore a Christmas House Village outfit and was dressed like a giant nutcracker. Hadn’t Kim noticed him?

  A nutcracker with a very sturdy cane in his hand.

  I stayed near the window. “William! What are you doing here?” My heart raced like it knew there was going to be no tomorrow.

  The big man leaned against his cane. “Irma told me you were here.”

  “I just wanted to . . .” I couldn’t come up with a plausible excuse for being there.

  “This is private property, Ms. Simms. I’d hate for you to make it necessary for me to—”

  “To what? Murder me? Like you did your boss, Franklin Finch?” Hopefully, Kim was listening outside the door, as we had planned.

  William began to smile. “Somebody must have spiked your eggnog.” He waggled his cane in my direction. “You’re talking crazy now.” His voice filled the room.

  “You would do anything for Irma, wouldn’t you?”

  William blinked at me. “Why, yes. Yes, I would,” he replied evenly. “Now, if you don’t mind?”

  It might have been stupid, but I said, “And if I do mind?” I folded my arms over my chest.

  William’s hands went into the front pocket of his trousers. He held up his cell phone. “Then I’ll have to call security.”

  I blew out my breath. “Fine, I’m leaving.” I took a step, then paused and extended my arm. “You first.” No way I wanted that big guy standing behind me with a deadly cane just waiting to whack me in the skull when I wasn’t looking.

  William shrugged and moved to the door, turning only to make sure I was following. I clumped down the stairs after him and moved outdoors. Through the porch window, I saw him inside conferring with Irma Fortuny.

  I wished I could read lips.

  I turned and scanned Christmas House Village. I spotted Santa across the way on the lawn between Nutcracker House and Sugarplum House. In the distance, my ears picked up the clang-clang of the sidewalk Santa at the street as he rang his bell.

  Where was our killer?

  Had Kim found something? Or someone?

  I waved and headed over, lowering my head into the cold wind. I had forgotten my hat and gloves.