Murder by Christmas (Edna Davies mysteries)

by Young, Suzanne

  Now, seated with Charlie and Edna at the kitchen table, Gran poured tea as she pondered what Charlie had just told her. After a moment’s thought, she shrugged.

  “Must have come after midnight, then. I was right here in the kitchen, baking until nearly twelve. After that, I went upstairs to bed and watched television for a while. Carol says I turn up the volume too loud.” She wrinkled her nose, looking much like a mischievous gnome. “I probably do. Probably why I wouldn’t hear if someone knocked on the window last night. I took my recipe box up with me for a little bedtime reading.” Her face lit up when she added, “I’m making the soups at the restaurant tomorrow.”

  Although ostensibly only visiting from Thanksgiving through the New Year, Gran had quickly become reacquainted with old friends and, through one, had assumed, rather than been given, a part-time job at Krispin’s Kitchen. The owner had been a childhood friend and neighbor of Gran’s in Westerly.

  “Have you heard from Carol?” Edna wanted to ease the conversation back to the mystery voyeur without appearing to be as alarmed as she felt.

  “Yes indeed,” The older woman brightened. “She called last night. Got to Chicago just fine. Says everything’s going okay and she’ll be home tomorrow or the day after.”

  “I’m concerned about those footsteps on the deck, Gran.” Apparently, Charlie was thinking along the same lines as Edna. “It looks like he came only to look in the window, not knock on the door.”

  Gran frowned at the detective. “It could have been anyone. I told you, only strangers go to the front door. Everyone else comes to the back, including deliveries.”

  “But not in the middle of the night,” he said.

  “Now don’t you go trying to scare me, young man. If you think you know who it was, spit it out. What are you trying to tell me?”

  Edna put out her hand and patted Gran’s forearm. “We’re only guessing, Gran, but we wonder if someone might be looking for Carol. We don’t want to frighten you, but we do want you to be aware of what might be going on.”

  “You mean those men who are on trial?” Gran looked from Edna to Charlie and shook her head in disbelief. “Why would they be after Carol? Everything she knows is on tape now. She’s only in Chicago to answer a few last-minute questions.”

  “As Edna said, we’re just guessing at this point.” Charlie reached across the table to hold Gran’s hand for a second. “We won’t know for sure until we know who came to your house last night.”

  “Are you thinking someone might threaten me to get at Carol?” What they were suggesting finally seemed to be sinking in. Gran now looked worried. Edna was certain the concern would be for Carol and not for Gran herself.

  Charlie shook his head. “I can’t say what they might be up to.” He frowned as he stared into his tea mug before raising his eyes to Gran’s. “You’re right about one thing. It doesn’t make much sense, since everything your granddaughter knows about the arsonists has been captured in her photographs or is part of her sworn and videoed statement. The horse is already out of the barn, so to speak.”

  “I’ll be so glad when that darn trial is over. Maybe then they’ll leave Carol in peace.” Gran’s words came out through gritted teeth and her hands were clenched into fists but her eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she finally seemed to accept their warning.

  “I’m sorry if I’ve alarmed you, but I don’t think you’re in serious danger.” Charlie said. He reached over to squeeze her hand. “Whoever it was only looked in the window last night.”

  Edna wondered if the implication in Charlie’s words would occur to Gran, that if the person had been serious about entering the house, he could have broken the window or forced the back door. She shuddered at the thought and returned her attention to what Charlie was saying.

  “Carol is safe with the agents in Chicago, and we’ll keep an eye on things around here. We’ll catch your Peeping Tom. Just make sure to keep your doors and windows locked.” He paused briefly before adding, “And you might want to pull down the shades after dark.”

  Still concerned for Gran’s safety, isolated as the elderly woman was, Edna asked, “Did Carol leave her car with you or park at the airport?” She was remembering something she’d learned from a television program, and an idea formed in her mind.

  “I have the car, so I can get back and forth to the diner. A friend drove Carol to the airport.”

  “Does her Kia have one of those remotes with a panic button?”

  Gran thought briefly before nodding. “Yeeesss,” she said hesitantly, obviously trying to understand what the question had to do with their recent conversation.

  “Take the car keys upstairs when you go to bed and put them somewhere handy. Maybe under your pillow,” Edna suggested. “If you hear someone trying to break in or if you think someone has gotten into the house, set off the car alarm. That should also make the lights flash, so keep the car in the driveway and not in the garage, at least until Carol comes home. In the off chance the noise and lights don’t chase off an intruder, I or one of the other neighbors will hear the alarm and call nine-one-one.”

  Gran nodded and her expression brightened slightly. “That’s a good idea. I’ll do it.”

  “There’s another thing,” Charlie said. “In your comings and goings from the house, have you ever seen someone riding a bicycle in the neighborhood?”

  “What a strange thing to ask,” Gran said, picking up her tea mug to take a sip.

  Charlie explained about the mysteriously moving bikes while Edna and Gran sipped tea and nibbled cookies. When he reached the last incident of the bicycle being found leaning against the dumpster at the new restaurant, Gran spoke up, her face alight with interest.

  “That’s my friend’s diner. I’ll ask Priscilla if she’s heard any scuttlebutt from her customers.”

  “Priscilla?” Edna didn’t recognize the name.

  “Priscilla Powell. She’s the manager at Krispin’s Kitchen, my friend’s daughter.” Mentioning the newest cafe in town made Gran’s eyes sparkle. “Have you been there? Faye--that’s my friend, Faye Krispin--her plan is to provide good, wholesome food at reasonable prices that students and pensioners can afford. I’m delighted she’s letting me work there. A few of us are volunteers, you know. That’s one reason she can keep prices down. For the first time in my life, I’m working for tips.” She laughed at the idea.

  “What do you do at the Kitchen?” Charlie asked.

  Edna thought his question was aimed at keeping Gran from realizing the implications for her granddaughter, and she liked him for his sensitivity. She wondered anew if his relationship with Starling was cooling. She hoped not.

  “Oh, I do a little of everything. Mostly I help out in the kitchen, but sometimes I wait tables for a few hours in the evenings, for the dinner crowd.” She beamed with pride. “I’m even learning to run the cash register.”

  “Will you be working tonight?” Edna asked and hurried to explain. “I’m having a tree-trimming party this evening, and I’d be pleased if you could join us.”

  Without hesitation, Gran accepted. “I’m off today because I’ll be working late tomorrow night. Priscilla’s been invited to a Christmas party, so I’ve volunteered to lock up. I’d love to come to your party.”

  “Wonderful,” Edna said before the thought of Gran locking up struck her. “Will you be alone at the diner tomorrow night?” she asked, glancing at Charlie to see if he was as concerned as she felt.

  “Oh, no. There’s a handyman who sweeps up, washes dishes and does general odd jobs for his meals. I’m sure he’ll be around,” Gran’s hazel eyes twinkled and the smile lines at the sides of her eyes and mouth deepened. “As a matter of fact, he’s another old friend from my childhood,” she said in voice that made her sound as coquettish as a schoolgirl.

  “Oh?” Edna grinned at Gran’s obvious pleasure.

  “He’s called Codfish,” Gran confided to her audience. “Great name for an old fisherman, don’t you think?”
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  Edna and Charlie agreed, happy for the widow. Edna, thinking how mysterious were the ways of Fate, wondered if Gran knew the history of her house’s former owner and Codfish McKale.

  Chapter 9

  Edna and Charlie soon left Gran to her baking and returned to the Davies house to get ready for the party that evening. Charlie stayed long enough to help pull out Christmas decorations from among unpacked boxes in the basement and carry them upstairs. He promised to arrive half an hour earlier than everyone else that evening to string the tree lights.

  Glancing at the clock, Edna thought she’d phone Albert before getting too wrapped up in party preparations. His doctor’s appointment had been that morning, so besides wanting to hear his voice, she hoped to get the latest report on his knee.

  “Hello, dear,” he said, obviously having read the caller-id display before picking up.

  “Hello yourself, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

  They chatted for a few minutes before Edna asked, “What did the doctor say this morning?”

  With enthusiasm, Albert told her about the new leg brace he’d been given. It was adjustable, so he could begin to bend the knee and start the process of strengthening muscles again. She was happy to hear the optimism in his voice that he’d be “good as new in no time a’ tall.”

  “With this increased mobility, I can probably get Roger to drive me home tomorrow.”

  Not wishing to quash Albert’s excitement, Edna said, “It’ll be best if they bring you home when you all come down for Mary’s Christmas Eve open house. It’s only three more days, dear.” She thought of something that might help to cheer him up. “Starling and Grant will be flying in that day. If there’s enough room in the rental with Karissa and the children, maybe you can drive down a little early with them.”

  She was relieved when Albert seemed to accept the plan. “Good idea. I’ll call Grant as soon as we hang up.” After a brief pause, he said, “You’re probably right about my staying with Diane, too. I have another checkup day after tomorrow, so it will be best if I stay here a couple more nights.”

  They chatted for a few minutes longer before Edna promised to phone again the next evening and rang off. In the kitchen, she turned the radio to an all-music holiday station before making unadorned popcorn and putting whole, fresh cranberries into a bowl, ready for stringing with needle and thread. One of her favorite traditions was the red and white garland for wrapping around the tree until the day after Christmas when it would be hung outside for the birds to enjoy.

  She put a dozen eggs in a pan to boil while she prepared a dip with equal parts cream cheese and mayonnaise, along with thyme, garlic powder and freshly ground pepper. She cut celery and carrots into strips and arranged them on a plate with an assortment of crackers to accompany the bowl of herb mix. Finally, before going upstairs to don her red velour pants suit, she searched through the Christmas boxes for the special tin-lined pot she used to make her grandmother’s mulled wine recipe. Her grandmother insisted that the pot be used for nothing else or it might add unwanted flavors to her favorite holiday beverage.

  Shortly before her guests were to arrive, Edna deviled the eggs, mulled the wine and heated cider. As she was making these last-minute preparations, she began to wonder why Charlie hadn’t shown up. The time-consuming job of untangling and stringing the lights around the tree would delay the rest of the decorating.

  She forced her mind to other things. Anticipating with pleasure the arrival of Tom’s nephew, she remembered a special gift she could cross off her list. Searching the closet where her paints were stored, she found the portrait of Tom Greene she’d sketched shortly after the handyman’s death. She studied his face, thinking as she did so, I wish you could be with us this evening.

  Rummaging in her office cupboards, she found a cardboard tube she’d saved from a roll of heavy-duty aluminum foil. Cutting the cylinder to the width of the sketch paper, she then rolled the portrait and slid it into the tube before wrapping it with red Christmas paper. She added a green bow and a small note “To Danny” and leaned the package against the wall behind the tree. Still Charlie hadn’t arrived.

  When she looked at the clock, Edna realized that Mary should have been there by now, too. Usually, she was early rather than late to Edna’s parties.

  “I wonder where everybody is,” Edna muttered to Benjamin, seconds before the doorbell rang.

  Greatly relieved, she hurried down the hall, knowing it would be Charlie. Mary always let herself in through the mudroom. Edna’s heart sank when she flung the door wide--nearly calling “Where have you been?”--only to see Gran standing on the stoop with a bowl of homemade chocolate turtles in her hands.

  Where was Charlie, Edna wondered, beginning to feel anxious that she hadn’t heard from him.

  “Am I too early?” Gran brought Edna out of her trance by handing her the bowl and pushing past her. “Brrr. It’s getting mighty cold. They’re saying it might drop below zero tonight.” When Edna didn’t respond, Gran turned back to look at her with a quizzical frown. “Is something the matter?”

  “Not at all,” Edna assured her, trying to smile and hide her concern. She mentally shook herself to clear her mind and began again. “I mean, no, you’re not too early and yes, something is wrong. Charlie isn’t here and the lights haven’t been strung yet. I also expected Mary to be here by now, but you’re the first to arrive. I’m sure everything is fine and they’ve just forgotten the time.”

  “Well, let’s go see what we can do about those lights.”

  Gran’s cheerful, take-charge command was what Edna needed to snap out of her funk. She led the way to the living room where Benjamin scurried before them to jump into his bed by the hearth near a low fire. Edna had put Christmas discs in the player and Nat King Cole was singing “Deck the Halls” as they entered the room. The women had just begun to untangle strings of lights when the doorbell rang again.

  “Happy holiday,” Kevin said, handing Edna a bouquet of red roses and white lilies when she opened the door.

  She was again struck by how much the man resembled his uncle.

  “Merry Christmas,” Gran greeted as she walked up behind Edna to meet the new arrival.

  “Happy holidays,” he replied, unzipping his parka.

  Gran looked at Edna with raised eyebrows. “Doesn’t anyone say ‘Merry Christmas’ anymore?”

  Before she could answer, Kevin said. “It’s not politically correct these days.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes, and Edna couldn’t tell if he was talking with tongue in cheek or not.

  Apparently, Gran chose to think not. “I’m sorry, young man, but it’s just as ‘P.C.’ as saying ‘Happy holidays.’ Perhaps more so.” Gran’s tone was gentle but firm. “Do you know why?” Edna could tell that Gran was about to tell them, regardless of their answers.

  “Christmas,” the elderly woman continued without waiting for a reply, “is the celebration of the birth of the Christ Child, which is why it is called ‘Christmas.’ It is also a federal holiday, signed into law by President Ulysses S. Grant in eighteen-seventy, so even if you’re not of a faith that worships Jesus, it is still right and proper to celebrate ‘Christmas’ as a holiday and refer to it as such.” She smiled, giving Kevin a nod as if pleased to have shared her knowledge. “Now, do you think there’s something wrong with that?”

  Having dropped his jacket onto a nearby chair, Kevin grimaced playfully and threw up his hands in mock surrender. “I give up. You’re right. It’s ‘Merry Christmas’ for me from now on.”

  Slightly uncomfortable with his exaggerated capitulation, Edna urged her guests toward the living room.

  Kevin volunteered to string the lights, and Edna helped by untangling the cords. Gran said she’d make the garland and went to sit in Edna’s wingback chair near the fire to string popcorn and cranberries while she softly hummed along with the carols.

  “You must be used to cold winters, coming from Michigan,” Edna said, wanting to put Kevin at ea
se.

  “No, ma’am. Not used to it at all. I moved up here from Texas.”

  Edna was confused. “I guess I misunderstood. I thought you grew up in Michigan.”

  He smiled as he walked around the tree, pinning lights along the branches. “I did, but I joined the army right out of high school, traveled around a bit and ended up at Fort Hood. After twenty-five years, I figured enough was enough, so I took my walking papers. After my discharge, I decided to see something of the state before heading back to the U.P.”

  When he paused to plug the next string of lights onto the chain, Edna asked, “Yoo-pea?”

  “That’s what we call the northern part of Michigan, the Upper Peninsula. Yes, ma’am, I’m a Yooper, or at least I was until I joined the army.”

  “And you stayed in Texas after you left the service?” Edna enjoyed hearing about the travels of others, curious now whether Kevin moved to Rhode Island purely to work for his cousin.

  “Yes, ma’am. I traveled around the state some, working odd jobs. I’m a country boy, so I took ranch jobs instead of heading for the cities. When Cousin Norm offered to make me a partner in his business, I thought it might be nice to live near family. I haven’t been in this part of the country since I was in high school, but I remember Uncle Tom’s farm and how pretty it was here in the fall.”

  “You finished with those lights?” Gran came up to the tree, holding up her popcorn and cranberry garland, effectively ending the conversation.

  While Kevin obligingly threaded the garland around the upper branches, Edna and Gran opened boxes and bags of ornaments. Edna’s favorites were the gold medallions for the members of her family, each with the person’s name and date of birth.