by Lyndsey Cole
“No one could make a more beautiful cookie than the ones she has for this party. I hope people appreciate the artistic talent and the skill needed. So, what’s going on these tables?” Camilla asked.
“No clue, but we’d better find out.”
Before Annie and Camilla had a chance to go back inside the café, a voice hit Annie’s ears and screeched down her spine like fingernails on a chalkboard.
“I doubt the food will be any good,” Annie heard Cookie Snow say as her four-inch heels click-clacked down the hall toward the tables, and the entrance to the Black Cat Café.
Annie’s muscles tensed. She clenched her jaw. Camilla elbowed her and whispered, “Want me to trip her?”
Annie managed a tiny chuckle and her tension was immediately diverted to Cookie and her boyfriend, Daryl Hansen. With a big smile on her face and her sickly sweet voice, Annie said, “So nice of you to bring your Christmas spirit to the party, Cookie. I know Leona will be pleased you’re here.”
“I’m not here to see Leona,” Cookie choked out. “I’m only here to find out what Nelson and Charlene’s plans are for the lot next to my house.” She lowered her voice. “And to sample Leona’s cookies to make sure she isn’t tricking Mrs. Delaney into hiring her for the Christmas Eve gala.”
“Steal her ideas, more like it,” Camilla couldn’t help blurt out. “Your cookies would run and hide if they had to be in the same room with Leona’s works of art.” Camilla reached over and slapped Cookie’s big canvas tote bag. “What’s in here? Tupperware? You could steal a lot of cookies and hide them inside this ginormous bag.” Camilla pointed her finger at Cookie. “I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
Cookie’s eyes popped as wide as one of the silver balls hanging from the Christmas tree and hissed, “Mrs. Delaney always hires me. Leona doesn’t have a chance.” She flung her head back and marched into the Black Cat Café, pulling Daryl along with her.
“Mrs. Claus, I didn’t know you had such a wicked streak,” Annie choked out between her fits of laughter. “Did you see her face change from white to red to purple when you insulted her cookies?”
“She deserved every word I said, and more. Cookie Snow can’t even begin to compete at Leona’s level of artistry. We better get inside and keep an eye on her to make sure she isn’t up to any shenanigans.”
Annie and Camilla walked back into the café just as the atmosphere threatened to explode. Charlene had her back to them but it didn’t take any guess work to tell that she was giving her Santa husband the third degree. Her body was stiff and tense and her voice carried across the room as her menacing words lashed at Nelson. “This is the last time you’ll embarrass me, and that’s a promise!”
Camilla poked Annie with her elbow. “I hope she takes his flask away and manages to keep him under control. The guy’s a menace. And believe me, I’ve been around plenty of poorly behaved men. Why on earth did they ask him to be Santa Claus? I can’t think of anyone more unsuitable.”
“He’s filling in for the guy that was supposed to do it. Paul Ames usually plays Santa but he’s sick.”
Panic filled Leona’s eyes as she butted into Annie and Camilla’s conversation. “Everything is on the edge of falling apart. Nelson is drunk. Jason isn’t here yet playing Christmas songs. And where’s Roxy? I thought you were bringing her dressed up as a reindeer.”
“Calm down before you have some kind of coronary event,” Annie said. “Jason’s bringing Roxy. It didn’t make sense to have her here and risk her getting into your cookies when no one was looking.”
Leona slapped the palm of her hand against the side of her head. “Good thinking. Have you seen them yet? My cookies? I’ve been working on the cookies for this event all week.”
Leona dragged Annie to the table covered with holly, poinsettias and tiered cookie towers. The centerpiece was a red glass, 10-layer tier with a differently designed cookie on each layer. Three smaller tiered towers were arranged on either side of the centerpiece. The arrangement was spectacular and the variety of cookies was more than amazing.
“What do you think?” Leona asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Annie was speechless while she feasted on the scene. “Amazing and unbelievable. Leona, you’ve outdone yourself. How did you find the time?”
“Lots of coffee and barely any sleep. I want to impress Mrs. Delaney since I put a bid in for her Christmas Eve gala and I think these will put me at the top of the list this year. Finally.” She held up both hands with her fingers crossed.
Annie wrapped her arm around her aunt’s waist and felt Leona relax slightly. “If she doesn’t hire you, she’s blind.”
“Thanks for the support.” Leona reverted back to her all business mode. “Are the tables in the hall ready?”
“Yup. What’s going out there?”
Leona directed Annie to more poinsettias, trays with hors d’oeuvres, which looked delicious but nowhere near as dazzling as the cookie display, and a beautiful basket filled with greens and cut flowers—red roses, white lilies, and silvery pinecones all nestled among fragrant white pine.
“Use your imagination and make it look inviting. That’s the first thing that people will see when they head toward the café. Oh, and wind lights around everything.” Leona headed off to put out another problem but stopped short. “When will Jason be here? I want him playing Christmas music as people arrive.”
Annie checked the time. “I told him to be here by six forty-five. He’ll be walking through the door any minute.”
“Send him to find me so I can get him set up to start playing as soon as possible.” Leona was off again in a whirlwind of energy.
Annie loaded Camilla up with trays of food and she carried the flowers, but another loud outburst slammed her ears.
“Keep your hands off me or you won’t see the light of day tomorrow!” Cookie’s high pitched voice screeched at the drunk Santa.
Leona marched between Cookie and Nelson. “I don’t care if you are Santa tonight, you might end up being carried out on a stretcher if you don’t keep your hands to yourself! Give me that flask. You’ve had more than enough of that poisonous drink!”
Annie’s mouth fell open as Leona grabbed the flask away from Nelson, drained whatever remained down the sink, and threw the flask in the trash. “I think it’s too late, but good for her for finally doing something,” Annie whispered to Camilla. They carried the food and flowers to the tables in the hallway. “I’ll finish this. You go back in but steer clear of Mr. Claus.” Annie got a mischievous glint in her eye. “Tell him that Cookie Snow thinks he’s cute.”
“I’ll do that,” Camilla replied with a snort of laughter. “It would serve her right.”
Annie turned back to the table to finish uncovering the trays of hors d’oeuvres. She snuck a small slice of a tart smothered with ricotta cheese and diced tomatoes and popped it in her mouth.
“I saw that,” a deep voice said close to her ear.
Annie jumped and spun around. “Don’t you dare tell Leona I sampled her food before the party started,” Annie warned Jason.
“Or what?” He tilted his head and raised his eyebrows. A lopsided grin spread on his face.
“Or no Christmas present for you,” Annie threatened with a pretend angry voice. “As much as I’d prefer for you to stay out here with me, I think you and your little reindeer companion better go inside before Leona has a meltdown. This party is about to put her over the edge unless everything settles down and goes smoothly.”
“Hah. If something goes wrong, it’s all because of this hideous sweater I have to wear. It has to mean bad luck.”
Several other people followed Jason inside before Annie was done and was able to join the growing crowd inside the Black Cat Café.
Camilla rushed to Annie’s side as soon as her head passed underneath the mistletoe hanging in the doorway. “There’s a problem.”
Chapter 3
“Look at Nelson,” Camilla said. “Something’s wrong.”
“Of course there is, he drank too much,” Annie said while she shook her head. “This is not good.”
As the two women stared at the disheveled Santa, he listed to the right, as if in slow motion, and toppled off his chair with a dull thud when he landed.
With most people in the Black Cat Café enjoying Leona’s cookies, music from the piano, and Roxy howling along with the Christmas carols, no one else seemed to notice Nelson sprawled on the floor.
Annie pulled Camilla along with her to somehow try to stuff Nelson back on his chair. They each grabbed an arm and got him to a sitting position. He grinned at Camilla. “I knew you’d be back, Mrs. Claus,” he slurred.
“Get in your chair and stay there if you know what’s good for you,” Camilla threatened. As the two women heaved Nelson off the floor, he managed to slide onto the chair with a loud groan.
“I want to go home and lie down,” he mumbled.
Annie left Camilla at Nelson’s side to hunt down Charlene and figure out what to do with her drunken husband. Charlene was in a hot discussion with Cookie about a waterfront lot that she and Nelson owned. “Nelson said he’d sell to you? I don’t know anything about that,” she said angrily. “We’ve never agreed about what to do with that lot and this certainly isn’t the place to be discussing it.”
Charlene twirled away from Cookie right into Annie. “Oh, I need to get away from that woman before I do something I’ll regret.” Annie linked her arm with Charlene’s and pulled her off to the side.
“Listen, Charlene, Nelson is in no shape to be here. Especially not in the roll of Santa. You have to take him home before he ends up passed out under everyone’s feet.”
Charlene rolled her eyes. “I knew having Nelson put that Santa suit on was a horrible idea, but when Paul called me and said he was sick, I had no one else to ask at the last minute. Where did Nelson get that booze from, anyway?”
Annie shrugged and scrunched her mouth to one side. Nelson was Charlene’s husband and if she couldn’t keep track of his drinking, how did she expect anyone else to?
“No idea but the damage is done. How can we get him to your car?” Annie wanted to nudge Charlene along before the whole event turned into a big disaster for Leona.
Before any plan was in place, Camilla frantically waved them over to where she stood, propping Nelson on his chair. His chin rested on his chest with his fake Santa beard trailing between his legs as he slumped forward as far as he could go. The only thing keeping him on the chair was Camilla with one hand gripping the collar of his Santa suit and pulling him back from a complete dismount off the chair.
Annie quickly surveyed the café and, fortunately, with all the delicious food, spiked punch, Christmas music, and ugly sweaters, no one else, except Leona, was tuned into the passed out Santa.
Unfortunately, as Annie looked at her aunt, Leona’s face faded from a healthy pink to a ghostly white and her eyes danced around the room frantically. Mrs. Delaney, the owner of the Heron Inn and the hostess of the glitzy Christmas Eve gala, coming up in two weeks, had just entered the café. Cookie Snow was already at her side with a wide smile and huge hug, dragging her away from the beautiful cookie display and right toward Camilla hovering over the drunken Santa.
Annie ran interference just as Nelson managed to lift his head and reach with both hands to grab Cookie’s waist.
She screeched and stepped sideways.
Nelson’s unfocused eyes closed, spittle dripped from the side of his mouth, and Camilla’s hold on him was not strong enough to break his pitch to the floor.
He landed in a heap of plush crimson mixed with white fur and shiny black leather. His white-trimmed hat came to a rest on Mrs. Delaney’s shiny red heels.
Jason’s Silent Night song ended and silence blanketed the café.
Deathly silent.
Charlene kneeled next to her husband. “Nelson.” She shook him and scolded, “Nelson Abbott. Answer me.”
Nelson groaned. “I just need some fresh air,” he slurred through his alcohol muddled brain. It was quite apparent that he wouldn’t be making it through the night as the party’s Santa. Even after he got a lungful of fresh air.
By now, everyone was crowded around Charlene and Nelson. Annie’s dread almost paralyzed her, but when she heard Nelson groan, she managed to push the gawkers away and encourage them to get back to enjoying the Christmas party. If that was even possible.
Jason started up with the Christmas songs and Leona, along with her helper elves, walked around with trays of punch. Both spiked and plain, or at least that was supposed to be the plan. Annie took over Leona’s tray, not at all sure what she was offering, or even caring, and sent Leona to schmooze with Mrs. Delaney before that situation deteriorated further with Cookie trying to brainwash Mrs. Delaney against Leona.
All in all, the Christmas party was spiraling into a complete and utter meltdown.
Leona’s fiancé, Danny, managed to half drag, half slide Nelson to the French doors overlooking the outside porch. The cold December air rushed through the open doors and helped lower the temperature of the overheated café. The plan was for Danny to prop Nelson up outside until he got some color back in his face, have Charlene take him home, and avoid having him disrupt the party any more than he already had.
Of course, plans have a nasty habit of going astray.
Once the French doors were closed and the cold air shut out, most of the people in the café got back to the important business of talking, singing, and having a great time.
Most people, but not all.
Charlene was fit to be tied. She grabbed a glass from Annie’s tray and vented, “I don’t want to leave just because he broke his promise to me about not drinking and now he can’t even walk. He can sit outside and freeze for all I care.” She tilted her head back and drained the glass.
At the rate Charlene’s drink disappeared, Annie hoped it was one of the nonalcoholic ones. Otherwise she’d be joining her husband.
Camilla covered a laugh with the back of her hand. “I couldn’t agree more with you, Charlene. Let him cool off out there and you can take him home when you’re good and ready.”
“Hey, Mrs. Claus, how about some help with the sing-a-longs,” Jason called over his shoulder as he raised his eyebrows toward Camilla.
Camilla placed her empty glass on Annie’s tray and leaned on the piano. “Ready when you are,” she told Jason.
Somehow, with the festive music, the party was back on track with Nelson all but forgotten while Camilla sang every song that Jason threw at her. After others had a glass—or three—of punch, spiked or not, they joined in too.
Annie meandered around the café with her little reindeer Roxy at her side. Even Leona had a smile on her face while she showed Mrs. Delaney each and every decorated cookie design.
“And this one was the most difficult,” Leona said while holding the snow globe cookie. “I had to work in miniature to get the scene just right.”
Mrs. Delaney oohed and aahed appropriately with one hand lightly resting on Leona’s arm. “For my Christmas Eve gala, I’ll need dozens of cookies but certainly not the variety that you have here tonight. Maybe the snow flakes, the Santas, and the Christmas trees. These are almost too beautiful to even take a bite out of,” she said after she nibbled the antlers and head off of a cute reindeer.
The sound of a sleigh bell made Annie turn around. Camilla stood on a low bench holding a leather strap with bells. She shook it vigorously up and down. “Everyone’s attention please. It’s time to vote for the ugliest sweater. Everyone ready?”
A chorus of happy yeses answered her question.
Charlene pulled on Camilla’s arm to get her to lean down for a second.
Camilla’s hand covered her mouth and her eyes darted to the French doors.
Annie’s gaze followed and the blood froze in her veins.
Nelson, who everyone had forgotten outside in the bitter cold temperature, was in a heap in a pile of snow. The colo
r in his face matched what he was lying in. It didn’t take a detective to figure out that Nelson Abbott, Santa Claus for the evening, would never be picking the ugly sweater winner.
Chapter 4
The police arrived in minutes.
Detective Christy Crank, her hair pulled back into a tight bun, took command of the room as soon as her five-foot-three-inch presence walked under the mistletoe.
“Okay. Sorry to interrupt this lovely party, but if everyone cooperates, I’ll be out of your hair shortly.”
“Was he murdered?” someone near the cookie tower asked.
“Why would you ask that?” Detective Crank zeroed in on the questioner who quickly found something on his ugly sweater to pick at. “I need everyone to sign this guest list so, in the event that we have further questions, I’ll know where to find everyone. Understood?”
A low murmur traveled around the room. Half eaten cookies and partially empty glasses were quickly discarded like ten year old fruit cakes as everyone glanced out the window at the unfolding scene around Nelson.
No one wanted to risk a similar fate.
Just in case something suspicious was the cause of Nelson’s death.
“Annie,” Detective Crank called, “I need to talk to you. Now.”
Annie knew when Christy had her work voice on, and tonight there wasn’t even a hair’s breadth room for misinterpreting her tone. It gave Annie chills when she remembered the first time she met Christy Crank after the discovery of a dead body at the shore of Heron Lake. Their relationship bounced up and down ever since then. And to be honest, it was way more down than up. This couldn’t be a repeat of that nightmare, could it?
Christy made her way to the far side of the room, away from the line of guests giving another policewoman their name and contact information. Annie met her in front of the French doors.
