Mistletoe is Murder : A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Bee's Bakehouse Mysteries Book 6)

by Kathy Cranston

  “How did you get in here?” Jessie asked, glancing at the chief.

  Lottie grinned and looked from Jessie to Chief Daly. “Is that some kind of trick question? I’m standing in the doorway—doesn’t that give you a clue? I came round the back so I wouldn’t disturb the meal.”

  She must have sensed that something strange was going on because she frowned and dropped the bag of gifts she was carrying.

  “What is it?” Lottie asked warily. “You two are acting strangely.”

  Jessie didn’t answer. She rushed past Lottie to the door and stared at the frame. “It hasn’t been forced, Chief.”

  He nodded, glancing at Lottie. “So now we have another possibility.”

  Chapter 6

  “Will one of you please tell me what’s going on?” Lottie said, frowning as she looked from Jessie to the chief and back. “This looks more like a wake than a Christmas meal. What are you two doing back here?”

  Jessie shrugged helplessly and looked to the chief.

  “David Fairway has been murdered,” Chief Daly said softly.

  Lottie gasped. “Oh my goodness,” she gasped. “Oh no.”

  Jessie nodded. “Yeah. We just found him. It’s good that you’re here. You can help us—” she stopped seeing the expression on the chief’s face. “Where were you?”

  Lottie nodded, a flush rising up her neck to her face. “I’m so sorry, Jessie. After I dropped off the turkey, I had to go call one of my suppliers. I completely forgot to get an order in for…” she stopped and shook her head. “That doesn’t matter. What can I do to help?”

  Chief Daly sighed. “Jessie, go have a quiet word with Maria. I’ll call the ambulance. Let them know to come round the back way and we’ll update them.”

  “Chief, I know it’s not a priority right now, but do you think you’ll be able to play Santa? All the kids are looking forward so much.”

  His face fell. “Jessie, I know how important this is. But given the circumstances, I think the best place for me is here. We’ll set up an incident room. We’ll try to be as discreet as possible but I’m going to have to spend the rest of the afternoon figuring out what happened here.”

  Jessie sighed and rubbed her forehead. She understood, but she also knew how much those kids would enjoy Santa’s appearance. Springdale didn’t have a large department store, so the only time they got to see Santa in the flesh was if their parents took them to Glenvale.

  “I know,” Lottie said suddenly. “That’s what I can do to help. I’ve got a Santa outfit that I’ve been wearing in the store. It’s laundered,” she said quickly, seemingly interpreting the look on the chief’s face as one of disgust at using a costume from a butcher store.

  Jessie looked at the chief. She could tell from the way he was frowning that he suspected Lottie’s absence had something to do with this.

  Jessie told herself to get a grip. It can’t be true. Lottie’s my friend. I know her.

  “Come on,” Chief Daly said kindly. “Calm down. We can do both. I’ll stick around here until the ambulance shows. I’ll dress up as Santa but we’ll make it quick. I’ll call Stanley and Kendall and get them to escort the kids home in their cruisers. We’ll make it seem like a fun game.”

  “So we can narrow down the suspects,” Jessie muttered.

  “I know it’s not an ideal end to your holiday party,” Chief Daly said, patting her arm. “But it’s better than calling this thing to a halt and locking down the building.”

  Jessie nodded. “I’ll go speak to Maria and open the gate.”

  ***

  As soon as Maria heard her help was needed, she darted out of the café to go open her store. Jessie hurried outside to open the gate that separated the bookstore yard from the café’s.

  She was just about to turn around and go back inside when she heard a sound at the back of the yard by the trash cans. She looked over and saw the cat from earlier rubbing himself against the side of one of the cans. Jessie’s stomach churned.

  “No, little buddy,” she said, rushing over to shoo him away. She didn’t want him somehow getting into the trash and spreading it around the yard. The last thing they needed was an infestation of vermin.

  But he wouldn’t be swayed. He glanced up at her for a second and then his focus returned to the trash can. He purred and rubbed his head against the side.

  “Oh, it’s you Buster,” she said when she spotted the collar around his neck.

  Lottie had adopted a cat from the shelter in Stanleyton weeks before. Jessie had yet to meet him, but she and Julia had bought him the little leather collar as a gift.

  Sighing, Jessie leaned forward to pick him up. Her heart shot up her throat when he hissed menacingly at her. Jessie backed away in fright but he seemed to calm down. He still wasn’t vacating the trash area. Jessie was about to give up when something caught her eye.

  She frowned.

  “Okay, go away now, Buster,” she said gently.

  She tried to get closer to the thing, whatever it was. The red stood out a mile against the dull steel of the can and the gray wall.

  But he wasn’t giving up.

  Jessie pretended to walk away, but as soon as she turned back, Buster was back again. She realized he wasn’t interested in the trash, but whatever was behind the can. She rushed back inside to get some food to lure him away. Then she thought of something.

  She might not like what she found back there.

  “Chief,” she hissed in a stage whisper, spotting the chief in the corner of the kitchen.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  Jessie gestured to the door. “There’s something outside. Behind the trash can. I can’t get to it because whatever it is, Buster is fascinated with it.”

  Her stomach churned. She just hoped it wasn’t blood or other…

  Chief Daly must have seen her fear. “Come on. Let’s go see.”

  He paused when he reached the door and saw the cat. He turned and looked around the kitchen. Jessie watched his observant eyes scoot over every inch of the place until they finally landed in the near corner. He hurried over and picked up the broom.

  “Don’t hurt him,” Jessie said cautiously.

  Chief Daly chuckled. “I’m not going to hurt him, Jessie dear. What sort of monster do you think I am?”

  Jessie watched skeptically as he crossed the yard, holding the broom out in front of him as he went. Then it clicked. He wasn’t going to use it to frighten the cat—he was going to snatch the red thing away without getting scratched.

  To Jessie’s amazement, he got it first try by holding out the handle and easing it below the red bundle. He lifted it in the air, far from Buster’s reach and carried it back to the doorstep. Jessie rushed ahead and grabbed a pair of latex gloves from the kitchen. They were much too small for the chief’s huge hands but they were the only thing she had.

  She had tidied the yard just the day before—and there had been nothing there. This couldn’t be a coincidence.

  Jessie took a deep breath as the chief leaned over and carefully unfurled what they could now see was a pile of red fabric.

  She didn’t need to ask what it was. That was obvious.

  It was a red jacket, the kind you found in costume stores. Part of a Santa suit with white faux fur lining the edges, and a black fake leather belt around the middle.

  “Oh my,” Jessie gasped. “What if Ricky was right? What if he spotted somebody dressed up as Santa? They disguised themselves and laid in wait until they could get David alone. Or else they lured him in there and then used it to get away.”

  He shook his head and stared at the fabric. “That’s a lot of ifs, Jessie.”

  She bit her lip. He was right, she knew. Except… Jessie shook her head. “It is. If you don’t know David. He’s in here most days.” She stopped. “Well, he was,” she said, continuing in a whisper. “And every time I spoke to him he’d tell me every last detail about his stomach problems. If somebody knew that…”

  “They
could have reliably assumed he’d leave the table sooner or later to come out here,” the chief finished. “That’s true, Jessie. And if that’s the case, it means it was somebody familiar with him.”

  “That’s the thing,” Jessie muttered. “David didn’t really discriminate when it came to sharing details about himself. The guy was an open book. That doesn’t explain why someone would kill him, though.”

  Chief Daly’s expression darkened. “Somebody obviously had it in for him.”

  A commotion outside alerted them to the fact that the ambulance crew had arrived.

  “Okay, Jessie,” the chief said. “I’m counting on you to keep everybody’s eyes on you and not out the back.”

  Chapter 7

  Jessie was sweating from nerves by the time she finally saw the EMTs reemerge from the corridor that led to the restrooms. She hadn’t planned on making a speech, but that was the only way she’d been able to think of diverting people’s attention away.

  It had been risky—if anybody had grown bored and escaped to the bathroom, they would have come face-to-face with the ambulance crew. It was the most nerve-racking ten minutes of her life. She wasn’t really a speech person. In fact, most of the times she’d been required to give speeches in Springdale so far had been to create diversions during investigations.

  I could never have predicted a year ago that this would be how my life panned out, she thought.

  Jessie smiled and looked around the room. She wasn’t done yet even though her speech had fulfilled its purpose. She couldn’t exactly stop without thanking everybody.

  “Okay, I’m sorry folks. A few more thank yous and you all can get back to your delicious pie. Courtesy of my Aunt Bee and Lainey. Thank you, Mel and Julia, for helping out with the decorations, though we really have to thank our fourth graders for that. And—”

  Jessie stopped and stared at the back of the room. She grinned.

  “And I’m going to have to pause there,” she laughed. “Because it looks like Santa is here.”

  Several young heads whipped back to follow her gaze. Their little faces lit up when they saw who was there.

  “Ho, ho, ho, kids,” the chief boomed. “I hope you’ve all been good girls and boys?”

  A mass of little bodies surged toward the front of the room where the chief stood.

  Except for one.

  “That’s not Santa, Mom,” Ricky said loudly.

  Karen couldn’t have flushed more violently. “Shh, son. Don’t be silly. Of course it is. Look.”

  “No, Mom,” he said, solemnly. “It’s not. I saw Santa earlier. That’s not him.”

  “Ricky!”

  “It’s true. It’s not hiiim.”

  Jessie glanced at the chief. It was clear he hadn’t heard—he was too busy trying to corral the kids into a line in front of the booth.

  “Sure it is, little guy,” Jessie said kindly.

  “Is not,” he snapped, turning around and waving his hands in frustration.

  “I’m sorry, Jessie,” Karen said, looking mortified. “I have no idea why he’s behaving like this. He’s usually such a good kid. Thank you for going to so much trouble.”

  Jessie smiled. “It was no trouble. It was so nice to have everybody here together.”

  Jessie looked around the huge table. There were many more empty chairs now, but she couldn’t stop thinking of the gaps earlier. Who else hadn’t come? Was it their killer? She’d need to look at the list of invitees to try and figure it out.

  She walked toward the kitchen, passing her smiling, happy friends. If only they knew what had happened while they were eating, she thought. She was glad they’d been able to keep from spoiling the afternoon for everybody, but Jessie felt like she’d burst from holding it in. It seemed like it was gnawing at her.

  Lottie was leaning against the kitchen counter when Jessie entered.

  “What are you doing back here? Did you get something to eat?”

  Lottie shook her head. “No. I planned to but let’s just say my appetite disappeared when I got here and found out what happened.”

  “I know what you mean,” Jessie said. “I had already eaten. Why are you in here?”

  Lottie shrugged. “Probably the same reason as you? I don’t want to go out there and pretend like everything is fine after what happened.”

  Jessie nodded. She knew the feeling. Sighing, she went to the drawer where they kept order books and other documentation. She rummaged inside until she found what she was looking for. The invite list. She grabbed a pen and leaned against the counter as she scanned through the list.

  It was no use, though. None of the names jumped out at her. She knew Lottie was one of the missing attendees, but she couldn’t think who might be the other. She started at the top again, this time focusing on each name and trying to remember if she’d seen them around the table or not. It took a while longer than the first way.

  Finally, her eyes landed on a name she hadn’t said for a long time. Mysty. Jessie shook her head. Mysty had taken off to her sister’s for the holidays. Her absence was no surprise—they must have forgotten they needed one less space. The knowledge didn’t help Jessie.

  “Who on earth could do this?” Jessie muttered.

  Chapter 8

  “Jessie Henderson, are you trying to avoid—”

  Aunt Bee must have seen the look on Jessie’s face then, because she stopped and her face fell.

  “What’s the matter, dear?”

  Jessie gestured for her to close the kitchen doors. They had latched them open while the ambulance crew was working.

  “What’s happened?” Bee asked.

  Chief Daly pushed through the swinging doors and dropped his now-empty Santa sack in the corner, muttering to himself.

  “Oh,” Bee said, wrapping her arms around herself. “Oh no.”

  Jessie sighed. “I’m sorry, Aunt Bee. “We tried to keep it from everybody. I didn’t want to ruin the day.”

  Bee crossed the kitchen and put her hands on Jessie’s shoulders. “Tell me.”

  “It’s David Fairway, Beatrice,” the chief said. “We found him in the bathroom. He’s been murdered.”

  Aunt Bee looked around wildly. “What? Are you kidding? Here in my café?”

  “I’m afraid so,” Jessie whispered.

  “Who would do such a thing?” Bee was shaking her head, looking around the kitchen. “He wasn’t the most personable of men, but murder?”

  “When did you last see him, Beatrice?”

  Aunt Bee looked bewildered. “I… I don’t know. I know he was here—I remember saying hello to him as the guests arrived. But after that…”

  Jessie shook her head. “Same here. It’s okay, Aunt Bee. Maybe he was sitting at the other end of the table.”

  “True. Jessie, people are beginning to leave. I thought you two might want to get out there and see them off. We can discuss this later.”

  “Wait,” Jessie frowned. “I thought we needed to keep everybody here and that your officers would take the children home? Isn’t now the best time—we’ve got everybody here together after all.”

  Chief Daly shook his head. “I don’t think that’s necessary, Jessie.”

  “What?” she asked, her mind reeling. She’d worked on investigations with the chief before and in the past he had always emphasized the importance of establishing suspects as soon as possible. “But we don’t know who did this. Now’s our best shot.”

  The chief set his jaw. “Oh I believe we do.”

  “But… what?” Jessie asked.

  Aunt Bee took her arm. “Come on, dear. We should go thank our guests. You two can discuss this later.”

  Chapter 9

  The sinking feeling had stuck with Jessie for the rest of the day and had returned at dawn when she woke and found herself completely unable to get back to sleep again.

  The chief hadn’t spelled it out the day before, but he hadn’t needed to.

  “But why?” Jessie argued as soon as she’d
closed the door to the chief’s office.

  “You know why, Jessie,” the chief said with a sigh. “Come on. You know how important it is to be impartial in cases like this.”

  Jessie thought about it. She knew what he was getting at, but no matter how much she tried to see his point of view, she couldn’t get there.

  “She’s not the only one in the town with a meat thermometer. That’s grasping at straws.”

  The chief shook his head. “It would be. If that were the only piece of evidence. But it’s not.”

  Jessie’s heart sank. Of course it wasn’t—she knew that. But it seemed so outlandish. Lottie was the straightest person Jessie knew. Sure, Jessie had seen her blow up at people but this didn’t seem her style.

  “It was planned, wasn’t it? Whoever did this had to have thought it out. They risked a lot doing it in a crowded café. That doesn’t sound like Lottie.”

  Chief Daly shrugged. “I hear what you’re saying, but that doesn’t hold much water when you compare it to the evidence. The thermometer. Lottie’s absence. The Santa jacket, which we’re testing for DNA. You saw yourself how her cat was drawn to it.”

  “Wait,” Jessie said, shaking her head. “Why would she do that? Why would she draw our attention to the fact that she owned one knowing that she’d just used it to disguise herself to commit murder? That seems like a stupid thing for a murderer to do. And why would she wear it at all? A bright red suit isn’t much of a disguise.”

  “Jessie,” he said. “I know all of that. But on the balance of facts.” He cleared his throat. “Lottie had a very public run-in with David last week. Did you know he owns her store? It sounds like he intended to put up the rent. She was outraged.”

  “I didn’t know that,” Jessie said slowly.

  She bit her lip. She and Lottie had been spending a lot of time together in recent months. Lottie hadn’t even come across as stressed to her.

  The chief shook his head and twisted his monitor around so Jessie could see it. “You won’t have seen this. Nobody has.”

  “What is it?” Jessie asked, leaning forward and frowning. It looked like a grainy video on pause mode.