Death by Eggnog

by Alex Erickson

  He took the coffee with a muttered, “Thanks,” sipped, and then grimaced.

  “Turn yourself in,” I said.

  “I can’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t.”

  “You can’t stay here.” I glanced at his backpack and wondered if that’s what he’d been hoping for. “It’s bad enough you’re sitting here now.” Knowing Buchannan, he’d probably slap me with a harboring a fugitive charge for even letting Robert through the door.

  “I know.” He stood, looking as defeated as I’d ever seen him. “I should go. I’m sorry I bothered you.” He started for the door.

  Watching him walk away looking as if I’d kicked him caused indecision to flare through me. If Robert was guilty, I couldn’t let him go. He needed to pay for his crimes. But what if he was telling the truth? If someone else killed Chuck, then Robert might be able to help solve the case. Maybe he knew something that would point to the real killer. If he left now, I might never get the chance to ask him.

  “Wait,” I called, just as he reached the door. “Don’t go.”

  Robert stopped and turned, a sly grin on his face. “I knew I could count on you.”

  I bit my lower lip to keep from calling him a name and kicking him out. The whole depressed, defeated man had been an act to get me to feel sorry for him. I should have known it from the start.

  Still, letting him go would only get in the way of justice, whether he was guilty or not.

  “Go wash your face,” I said. “You’re filthy. The bathroom is right down that hall. We can talk once you get back.”

  He nodded, dropped his backpack by the counter. “Thank you, Krissy.”

  Don’t thank me yet, I thought, but wisely kept my mouth shut.

  Robert strode down the hall, whistling. I waited until I heard the sound of running water before grabbing my phone. I hurriedly clicked on Paul’s name and typed him a quick text before shoving my phone back into my purse. Robert returned just as I was back where I’d started, sipping my coffee with a slightly shaky hand.

  “You don’t know how relieved I am,” he said, walking into the kitchen to stand next to me. “For a minute there, I thought you were going to leave me hanging.”

  “The murderer needs to be caught,” I said.

  He nodded and grinned, the old Robert showing through. “Think I can get a hug?” He spread his arms wide, as if he expected me to leap at the chance.

  “Not on your life.”

  His smile faltered before he shrugged and sat down. “It’s okay. Trisha wouldn’t approve of you coming onto me anyway.”

  I took another long sip of coffee to hide my grimace. I’d felt bad sending the text to Paul, but the more Robert spoke, the less bad I felt.

  “How are you going to do it?” he asked. “Clear my name, catch the bad guy?”

  “You need to come clean with me, Robert,” I said, setting my mug aside. “If you killed Santa, you need to tell me right now. And if you didn’t, I need to know who might have.”

  “Of course,” he said. “It was Brad.”

  I stared at him, waiting for him to go on. “Brad who?” I asked when he didn’t.

  “Brad Clusterman.” He stared at me, then sighed as if annoyed I didn’t know who he was talking about. “The guy who thinks he’s hot stuff. He was hitting on Trisha earlier.”

  Ah, the good-looking elf. “Why do you think Brad did it?”

  He shrugged. “He seems the type, doesn’t he?”

  I closed my eyes and counted slowly to ten. Then to twenty, when that didn’t work. “You can’t accuse someone of murder, just because you think they ‘seem the type.’”

  “Well, he does.”

  “And you can’t accuse someone just because you don’t like them either. This is serious business.” I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Did you see or hear anything that would indicate someone wanted Chuck dead?”

  Robert shrugged, pouting. I think he wanted me to rush off and accuse Brad of murder, just because he didn’t like how the man had hit on his latest girlfriend. Considering the fact that Chuck had done the same thing before he ended up dead didn’t look good for Robert. It made it sound like he had a vendetta against anyone who so much as looked at Trisha. It wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to think he’d killed Chuck and hoped to blame Brad, just to get them out of the way.

  “Robert,” I said, growing not just annoyed, but exasperated by his lack of cooperation. “I can’t do anything if you don’t help me.”

  “You’re supposed to be good at this stuff,” he said.

  I wanted to scream, but before I could, a siren rose in the distance and was rapidly getting closer. Robert didn’t seem to notice at first. And then, slowly, he raised his head to look at me, brow furrowed.

  “You called the cops?” The hurt in his voice almost made me feel bad.

  Almost. “No,” I said, wishing Paul would have come without sirens blaring. I’d texted them, so it wasn’t exactly a lie.

  Robert rose to his feet, grabbed his backpack. “I need to get out of here.”

  “Robert, you need to stay and explain yourself. Everything will be fine if you’re honest.”

  “I can’t.” He looked wildly around, as if unsure which way to run, before breaking for the door.

  Well, crap. I’d hoped this would go smoothly, that Paul would arrive and take control of the situation, and Robert would tell us everything, but now, the man who very well might be a murderer was looking to bolt.

  I couldn’t let that happen.

  Knowing it was going to end badly for me, I rushed forward and grabbed Robert by the arm, just as he opened my front door. I yanked as hard as I could in a vain attempt to drag him back into the kitchen where I’d sit on him until Paul arrived if I had to.

  It would have been a good plan if I’d spent more time doing push-ups over the last few months instead of sitting around watching Christmas specials.

  Robert jerked his arm free and threw the door the rest of the way open. He looked panicked now, which would only make him do something else stupid if given the chance. I had a feeling that if he ran now, he would not only drag himself down, but Trisha and me as well.

  The sirens were close, but not so close I thought Paul would get here before Robert was gone. Steeling myself for pain, I forced myself to act. I dove through the doorway, tackling Robert from behind. Surprised, he went down easily, and we went flying off my front stoop, which was thankfully not very high off the ground. We hit with a pair of grunts, pain shooting up my arm where my elbow hit the frozen ground. We rolled so that I was on my back, Robert on top of me, back facing me. I immediately wrapped my legs and arms around him, clinging to him as if for dear life.

  “Krissy, stop it!” he whined, fighting against my hold.

  But I refused to relent. “You’ve got to face this,” I said, wincing as his elbow glanced off my cheekbone. It wasn’t on purpose, but it made me angrier at him. “Stop fighting me!”

  Thankfully, the police cruiser pulled into my driveway just then, but it wasn’t Paul. Officer Garrison got out of her cruiser and approached, hand on her gun, but she didn’t draw. She frowned down at us, not quite sure what to make of us now that Robert had gone limp atop me.

  “He’s the man you’re looking for,” I said, air being pressed from my lungs. Robert was heavier than he looked.

  Garrison hesitated a moment longer before removing her zip strips. She pulled Robert to his feet, read him his rights, and zipped him up, before leading him to her cruiser. She returned a moment later to ask me a few quick questions, all of which I answered honestly.

  Then, with a backward glance that said she still didn’t quite trust me, Garrison got into her cruiser and drove off, Robert sitting sullenly in the backseat.

  Body aching, I watched them go. Robert glanced up once before they were gone, eyes so full of hurt and betrayal, I actually felt bad.

  Turning away in shame, I headed back inside, idly noting both Jane and Eleanor Winthrow
standing outside, watching me. So much for giving her a better impression of me.

  With a tired sigh, I entered my house, closed the door behind me, and being thoroughly fed up with the day, I prepared myself for bed.

  7

  I didn’t sleep well that night. Between my aches and pains from practice, and the memory of Robert’s accusatory gaze as the police drove him away, I couldn’t get my mind to relax. I was surprised to find I believed him when he said he didn’t kill Chuck, which was funny since I’d wanted nothing more than for Robert to go away ever since he’d moved to Pine Hills. Now that it was looking like he wasn’t just going to go away, but quite possibly, be put away, I found I sort of missed the idea of him being around.

  Weird how the mind works.

  I got out of bed nice and early, still sore, still tired, but with my brain working overtime, laying around wasn’t happening. I needed a distraction, something that would keep my mind off Robert and his predicament. It was out of my hands now. The police would do everything they could to make sure the real killer was put behind bars. There was nothing left for me to do.

  Yet, why wasn’t I convinced?

  After a quick shower, I got dressed, grabbed my purse and keys, and headed out to brave the biting cold.

  Death by Coffee had a decent amount of business this morning, despite the chill in the air. Even though I’d only had to walk a short distance from my car to the front doors, my nose and ears were stinging and my eyes were watering like fountains. The wind ripped right through my coat and settled into my bones, causing me to shiver nearly nonstop. Once inside, I hurried to the counter where Jeff was taking orders.

  “What can I get you, Ms. Hancock?” he asked, forcing a smile. His voice only quavered a little this time, which was an improvement. Ever since he’d started manning the register on his own, his nerves seemed calmer, though I doubted he would ever truly be comfortable talking to strangers. I mean, he could barely look me in the eye half the time.

  “Black coffee and one chocolate chip cookie,” I said, choosing my usual, rather than the eggnog. After the murder, I wasn’t quite ready for it yet. I eyed the display case and considered getting something else to eat as well, but my stomach was doing odd little flips. I wasn’t sure I could keep anything down; not until I got my mind off everything that had happened. “That should be it.”

  Jeff hurried back to fill my order. Vicki was upstairs, hanging more Christmas decorations around a shelf dedicated to holiday books. A small Christmas tree stood in the corner with a pair of gifts beneath it. The idea was that customers could donate gifts that would remain beneath the tree until Christmas Eve. Then, we’d have a small party where we’d hand them out to kids whose parents couldn’t afford to spend much money during the holidays.

  I should have been here to help. Guilt made my face warm as Jeff returned. I paid him, and then turned to head upstairs.

  “Krissy,” Vicki said, giving me a quick hug and smile. “What brings you in this morning?”

  “I should be here,” I said. “I want to help out with all of this.” I nodded toward the tree.

  Vicki beamed. “I just put it up this morning. It wasn’t hard, so don’t worry yourself. A couple of older ladies asked about it the moment we opened the doors. They bought a few books on the spot. Thankfully, they had wrapping paper in their cars because I forgot to bring some in.”

  While I was glad people were already buying for the kids, it didn’t make me feel any better. “It might get busy,” I said. “I could help decorate so you don’t get overwhelmed.”

  Vicki shook her head the entire time I talked. “We’re fine,” she said when I was done. “Jeff and Lena can handle most everything now, and I don’t mind being here. I love this time of year.” She sucked in a happy breath, eyes practically glowing. “You are going to enjoy your vacation. I don’t want to see you in here for anything but a quick visit.”

  “But . . .”

  Her hands went to her hips and she gave me a stern look that was ruined by the twitch of her mouth as she fought back a grin. “We can handle it. If you want to help pass out the gifts on Christmas Eve, that would be great. Otherwise, no!”

  I sighed, but relented. I wasn’t even sure why I was so intent on coming back to work. Vicki was right; they were handling things just fine. A break would probably do me a lot of good, especially since I was committed to the play.

  Shoulders slumped, I said my good-byes, and carried my coffee out into the cold. It was time to do what I’d originally set out to do.

  Shopping has always been a problem for me. Money had never really been an issue when I lived at home, and even now, I could afford to buy gifts for everyone without stressing about my bank account.

  But for some reason, the moment I stepped into a store to buy a gift for someone, my mind went blank. Nothing seemed right. I always felt I was letting my friends and family down and struggled to come up with the perfect gift, despite the fact they told me I was overthinking it. I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to disappoint.

  Pine Hills didn’t have a mall in which I could wander aimlessly for hours. Instead, various locally owned shops lined the downtown area. I had yet to go on a full blown shopping trip since I’d moved here, and found it oddly refreshing to visit smaller shops where I often knew the owner and employees, at least by sight. Sure, there might not be as much in the way of brand name stuff in the mom and pop stores, but there was definitely something to be said for handmade items, a certain love for the craft you didn’t find in mass manufactured goods.

  I was browsing a knick-knack shop that had once been a clothing store named Tessa’s Dresses. The previous owner was long gone, and had been replaced by a friendly older woman, who sat behind the counter on a daily basis. Everything inside had been made locally and I was careful not to knock anything over as I looked for something that would be a perfect gift for one of my friends. Who? I had no idea. As I was examining a ceramic cat, someone tapped me gently on the arm.

  “You’re the new girl, aren’t you?” the woman asked.

  I only paid her a quick glance before saying, “I’m just browsing,” and going back to the cat. I wondered if Vicki would like it. It was short-haired, and didn’t have the white spot under his nose, but it did kind of look like Trouble.

  “I don’t work here,” the woman said with a fluttery laugh that I recognized from somewhere. “You’re Krissy, right? Remember me? Asia?”

  “Oh!” I said, looking at her fully now. I hadn’t recognized her without her elf costume and two tag-along friends. “Asia! What are you doing here?” I glanced at the price tag on the cat and then quickly put it back on the shelf before I accidentally broke it and was responsible for the outrageous price.

  “Looking around, I suppose,” she sighed. “Trying to get my mind off things. I’m still a little shaken up, to be honest. I can’t believe something so terrible happened right there.” She shuddered.

  “It was pretty horrible,” I said.

  “I heard you used to date the killer.” Her voice turned interested as she followed me down an aisle full of Christmas ornaments. “Did you ever suspect him of being capable of such a thing? I spent these last few weeks with him and never once did I think Rob could kill anyone.”

  Rob? He never used to like it when someone called him that, but I guess that was just something else he was trying to change about himself. “I’m as shocked as you are,” I said, feeling mildly uncomfortable talking about it. It’s one thing to know a killer. It’s an entirely different animal to have actually dated one. People always looked at you like you should have known.

  Of course, I still wasn’t entirely convinced he was the one who’d offed Chuck.

  “I was talking with Greg and Prairie earlier. They are both positive Rob killed him. They’ve heard the awfulest things about him recently.”

  I was curious as to what they’d heard, but didn’t want to get involved. “I’m sure a lot of it has been blown out of proporti
on,” I said, wishing Asia would drop it and let me go about my shopping in peace. Was this how people felt when I started asking them about people involved in a crime? If so, I was really going to have to reconsider my methods.

  “Well, a few of us are thinking of having a memorial for Chucky. He might not have been anyone’s best friend, but he was one of us. You should come!”

  “I don’t know,” I said, feeling guilty for some reason. I mean, I didn’t know anything about most of the cast, let alone Chuck. I was an outsider, having just joined the group. Robert was the only one I’d known before the play, but he was now in jail. And while Prudence had been showing me the ropes, it didn’t equate to being fully integrated within the cast.

  Going to the memorial would make me feel more like a fraud than I already did. Yet to turn it down would make it seem like I didn’t care about the man’s death.

  “We’ll see,” I said, going for the middle ground.

  Asia clasped me on the arm and gave me a warm smile. “I’ll get you the details as soon as they’re finalized.” And then she spun away, tiny purse hanging from the crook of her elbow, finally leaving me alone.

  I tried to continue shopping, but my mind was now firmly stuck on Robert, and by extension, Chuck’s murder. It’s kind of hard to get into the Christmas spirit when you kept seeing Santa lying there with a knife in his back.

  Giving up for the day, I left the store and made the cold walk back to my car. It felt colder, but that could simply be because of where my head was rather than an actual drop in temperature.

  I drove home, preoccupied, barely seeing anything around me. It was a wonder I didn’t drive off the road and into a ditch. This was supposed to be a time of joy and giving, yet I was thinking about murder and death. I wasn’t normally a morbid person, but this time, it hit a little too close to home.

  I parked in my driveway and was halfway out of my car before I noticed someone getting out of a smart car beside me. She wore a furry, hooded coat, which left her face mostly concealed. I caught a flash of blond hair and a pair of wide, pretty eyes, I recognized.