Grim Holiday (Aisling Grimlock Book 6)

by Amanda M. Lee

  Grim Holiday

  An Aisling Grimlock Mystery Book Six

  Amanda M. Lee

  Copyright © 2017 by Amanda M. Lee

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Created with Vellum

  Contents

  Prologue

  1. One

  2. Two

  3. Three

  4. Four

  5. Five

  6. Six

  7. Seven

  8. Eight

  9. Nine

  10. Ten

  11. Eleven

  12. Twelve

  13. Thirteen

  14. Fourteen

  15. Fifteen

  16. Sixteen

  17. Seventeen

  18. Eighteen

  19. Nineteen

  20. Twenty

  21. Twenty-One

  22. Twenty-Two

  23. Twenty-Three

  24. Twenty-Four

  25. Twenty-Five

  26. Twenty-Six

  27. Twenty-Seven

  28. Twenty-Eight

  29. Twenty-Nine

  30. Thirty

  31. Thirty-One

  32. Thirty-Two

  Mailing List

  About the Author

  Books by Amanda M. Lee

  Prologue

  Twenty-one years ago

  “Where are the little monsters?”

  Cormack Grimlock, his dark hair messy and out of place, fixed his wife Lily with a questioning look, armed with a glass of brandy in one hand and a flyswatter in the other. He clearly meant business.

  Lily Grimlock raised an eyebrow as she studied him, amusement and confusion warring for supremacy in the middle of her muddled mind. “To which monsters are you referring, dear?”

  Cormack’s amethyst eyes flashed. His wife’s sense of humor reared its ugly head at the oddest of times. He couldn’t see any reason for it to come out to play now. “The ones you gave birth to,” he hissed. “Your children are the monsters to which I refer.”

  “Why are they my children when you’re agitated and your children when they’ve done something wonderful?”

  Cormack pursed his lips. “How often do they do something wonderful?”

  “Cillian got straight As again this semester,” Lily pointed out, referring to one of their sons. “He always gets straights As. I think that’s pretty wonderful.”

  “Yes, but he also helped Redmond try to break into my safe to look for Christmas gifts,” Cormack countered. “That wasn’t very wonderful.”

  “That’s normal kid stuff,” Lily chided, her hands landing on her slim hips. “You know darned well you did the same thing when you were his age.”

  “I did not. I was a good child. I never got into trouble.”

  Lily wasn’t about to be dissuaded. “You realize I’ve met your parents, right? Your mother tells vastly different stories. In fact, I believe she tells a certain story about you pushing your father’s safe out of a window because you thought you could crack it open like an egg and scoop up the yummy insides without him knowing.”

  Cormack’s smile was sheepish. “You have a memory like an elephant. Has anyone ever told you that?”

  “Just you, dear.” Lily absentmindedly patted his forearm. “No one else would have the gumption to compare me to an elephant.”

  Cormack’s cheeks flushed with color as he recognized the tone. It was the one she kept hidden from the children unless they did something really awful – like shoplifted or tried to set the neighbor’s house on fire because he threatened them with great bodily harm should a baseball fly through his window again. Cormack knew he was in for a long night if he didn’t fix things … and fast.

  “You don’t remind me of an elephant,” he offered, slipping his arm around her waist and tugging her close. She was reluctant, but didn’t put up much of a fight. “You remind me of a beautiful bird – perhaps a peacock – and you should always be on display because you’re breathtaking.”

  “Oh, that was a little forced. You do know it’s the male of that species that has the beautiful plumage? But a resounding attempt.” Lily’s smile reflected genuine amusement as she momentarily rested her head against Cormack’s shoulder. She pressed her eyes shut, basking in his warmth, and then signed. “Do you think they’re asleep yet?”

  Cormack shrugged. “Does it matter?”

  “We need to get their Christmas gifts out of hiding and put them under the tree,” Lily replied, weariness evident. “Aisling and Aidan still believe in Santa Claus, so we need to get everything out quietly.”

  Cormack tilted his head to the side, considering. Aisling and Aidan were his youngest children, seven-year-old twins. They were the most rambunctious of his brood – and that was saying something – as the only girl, Aisling, ruled the roost with an iron fist that made Cormack fear for the sanity of her future husband. “Are you sure they still believe?” Cormack had trouble wrapping his head around that. “Redmond and Cillian haven’t believed for years, and Braden figured it out last year. The odds of Aisling and Aidan still believing when the other three are such blabbermouths seem long to me.”

  “They’d better believe,” Lily said, taking a step back. “I warned Redmond and Braden that there would be dire consequences if they let it slip. Aisling and Aidan deserve another magical Christmas.”

  Cormack knit his eyebrows, confused. “Why didn’t you warn Cillian?”

  “Because he would never tell Aisling and Aidan the truth,” Lily replied. “He has a soft heart and always tries to do the right thing.”

  “I’m starting to think he’s your favorite,” Cormack teased. “You always told me that we weren’t allowed to have favorites.”

  Lily snorted, taking him by surprise. “I don’t have favorites. Each child has specific needs. You have favorites. Don’t bother denying it. Aisling is your favorite.”

  Cormack balked. “She’s not my favorite. She’s a holy terror.”

  “That’s why she’s your favorite.” Lily’s grin was impish. “You like it when she bosses the boys around and makes them cry. You like when she tortures them and makes them come running to me to save them from certain doom.”

  “That hardly seems something a father should be proud of,” Cormack scoffed, averting his eyes. He didn’t want to admit there was truth in his wife’s words, but he did enjoy watching Aisling torture her brothers.

  “You also like when she makes you have tea parties and help her organize her stuffed animals,” Lily added, refusing to fall for Cormack’s innocent expression. “You like it when she hides the dresses I buy her in the back of the closet and pretends they were stolen so she doesn’t have to wear them.”

  “Well, that’s just funny,” Cormack protested. “She doesn’t like lace.”

  Lily made an exasperated face. “You also like it when she wants you to read her a bedtime story and reenact scenes from Lord of the Rings.”

  “Speaking of that, I bought her a toy sword this year.” Cormack brightened at the notion. “I hid it in that old wardrobe in my office.”

  “You got her a sword?” Lily was horrified. “She’ll poke out someone’s eye with that thing.”

  “I got her brothers BB guns when they were her age. I don’t see why she can’t have a weapon,” Cormack countered. “It’s not a metal sword. It’s some sort of resin, if that makes you feel better.”

  “Oh, so you’re saying instead of poking out someone’s eye she’ll merely k
nock them out with a heavy imitation resin sword,” Lily muttered, shaking her head. “That sounds so much better.”

  “She wants to be Aragorn.” Cormack refused to back down. “She won’t be young forever. She won’t find the magic in a story forever. Before we know it she’ll be a teenager, mooning over boys … and crying because she thinks she’s fat … and slathering her face in makeup. If you think I’m going to apologize for enjoying her while she’s still a child … well … you have another thing coming.”

  Lily fought hard to keep her face even, but failed, the corners of her mouth ultimately tipping up. “It’s because she’s the only girl. You can admit it.”

  “I will admit nothing of the sort.” Cormack was stubborn when he wanted to be. “I love all of my children equally.”

  “You love them all equally,” Lily agreed. “You favor the youngest.”

  “That is ridiculous.”

  Lily rolled her eyes, amused. She glanced at the huge tree in the corner of the parlor, her eyes roaming the seven stockings affixed to the fireplace mantel before landing on Cormack again. “We have a huge pile of gifts to carry upstairs. We should probably get started.”

  Cormack didn’t bother hiding his scowl. “We should pay someone to carry those gifts up for us. That way I wouldn’t risk throwing out my back.”

  Lily snorted again. “Now I see where Aisling gets that complaining streak. She learned it from you.”

  “I’m pretty sure I should be offended by that comment but I’m too tired to care. Let’s do this. The faster we finish, the faster we can go to bed. The monsters will be up before the sun to see what kind of loot they hauled in this year.”

  “Yes, well, that’s one of the joys of Christmas.” Lily exhaled heavily as she passed the stairwell, pointing herself toward the basement and stopping only when she caught a hint of movement in the small alcove on the other side of the stairs. “Aisling?”

  Cormack jolted at the name, sliding his eyes into the shadows and smirking when he saw his daughter clutching a stuffed dog in the corner. “What are you doing, sweetie?”

  Aisling’s tousled hair suggested she’d lain in bed and tossed and turned for an extended period before letting her baser urges take hold and crept down to the main floor of the large manor house. Cormack was fairly certain her flannel pajamas were hand-me-down Star Wars ones from her brothers rather than the princess-themed set Lily insisted on buying a few weeks earlier. Her slippers sported Yoda faces.

  “I thought I heard something,” Aisling said. “I got afraid and came down because I wanted Daddy.”

  Lily pursed her lips as she stared at her only daughter. The girl was far from a gifted liar, but she could twist Cormack to her demands with minimal effort. “I see. What do you think you heard?”

  Aisling shrugged. “Robbers, probably. I thought maybe they were coming to take my Christmas presents.”

  Cormack grinned as he leaned down, snagging Aisling around the waist and hauling her up so he could look her in the eye. She looked exactly like him, although all of the children resembled him rather than their mother. He smoothed her black hair as he gazed into her oddly sweet purple eyes. “I think that you might be fibbing a bit.”

  Aisling shook her head. “I’m not. I was afraid.”

  Lily had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Aisling always knew how to manipulate her father. It was a gift the only daughter in the Grimlock house managed with minimal effort. Cormack was right when he said he loved the boys as much as he loved Aisling. He did. They couldn’t manipulate him the same way she could, though. It wasn’t only that she was a girl; it was that she was vastly outnumbered, too.

  “Well, I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to you,” Cormack said, his tone solemn. “I promise to keep you safe, no matter what. I won’t ever let anyone hurt you. You know that, right?”

  Aisling shrugged, the ratty dog she slept with pressed between Cormack’s chest and her own. “I think I should stay down here with you … just to be on the safe side.”

  Cormack smirked. “And maybe get a gander at Santa Claus while you’re at it?”

  Aisling made an adorable face. “Maybe, but that’s not why. I’m really afraid.”

  “Okay, well … .” Cormack broke off, unsure. “How about I take you upstairs and sit with you until you fall asleep? That way I’ll know you won’t be afraid.”

  Aisling licked her lips. “How about you sit with me down here until I fall asleep?” she countered. She was a shrewd negotiator under normal circumstances, but Lily knew she wouldn’t win this one. She couldn’t. Lily and Cormack had to clear out the parlor so they could carry up the gifts without witnesses. That meant each child had to be locked into his or her room for the night.

  “I’ll either go upstairs with you and sit for a bit or you can go upstairs alone,” Cormack argued. “Those are your only options.”

  Aisling clearly didn’t like that answer because her eyes filled with tears, as if on cue, and she added a sniffle for good measure. “Do you want me to be afraid?”

  That little act wouldn’t work on Lily, but Cormack always melted at the tears. Aisling knew that, which was why she always had them at the ready when she wanted something.

  “Aisling, I don’t ever want you to be afraid. You know that.” Cormack looked as if he was wavering until Lily sent him a firm headshake and he stiffened his spine and focused on his lone daughter. “I think you’re trying to manipulate me in an attempt to see Santa.”

  “That’s a dirty lie!” Aisling was affronted. Lily had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing. Whenever one of her brothers picked up a new catch phrase she adopted it within hours. She’d picked up that little gem from Braden a few days ago.

  “If Santa sees you spying you won’t get any gifts,” Lily interjected, drawing Aisling’s attention from her father’s face. “Do you want to be the only one who doesn’t get gifts tomorrow?”

  Aisling looked caught. “Is that true, Daddy?”

  Cormack shrugged. “I don’t know. Have you been a good girl this year?”

  “I’ve been an angel.”

  The fact that Aisling could say that with a straight face almost caused Lily to snort again. “Yes, an angel who terrorized her brothers every chance she got.”

  Aisling shot Lily a dirty look, clearly unhappy that her mother insisted on interrupting her manipulation of her father. “I was good.”

  “You were good,” Cormack agreed, avoiding eye contact with Lily as he moved toward the stairs. “You’ll get gifts. I promise. You have to go to sleep first.”

  Aisling wasn’t quite ready to give in. “But … I’m not tired.”

  “You will be soon.” Cormack pressed his lips to her forehead, barely sparing Lily a glance as he climbed to the second floor. He knew he was abandoning her with the bulk of the work, but he refused to force Aisling to bed without coddling her a bit. It went against his very nature. “I’ll read you a story. How does that sound?”

  “Any story I want?” Aisling never missed the chance to negotiate.

  Cormack nodded. “Any story you want. How about Treasure Island? I think you’ll like that one.”

  “I want you to read me The Shining.”

  Cormack stilled, his eyes full of wonder and mirth. “That will give you nightmares.”

  “I already saw the movie.” Aisling lowered her voice to a creepy squeak. “Red rum. Red rum. Red rum.” She crooked her finger and furrowed her brow, causing Cormack to laugh.

  “The Shining it is.”

  Lily watched them from the bottom of the stairs, her heart conflicted. Cormack teased that the children were monsters, but he would spoil Aisling if he didn’t stop caving to her whims.

  “Tomorrow,” she muttered, shaking her head. “Tomorrow I’ll talk to him about spoiling the children.”

  She honestly meant to follow through. When she died more than ten years later, though, she was still reminding herself that it was important
and something she should deal with soon.

  Children were meant to be loved and not spoiled, after all. That, of course, was one lesson Aisling Grimlock never quite learned.

  1

  One

  Present Day

  “Touch him to make sure he’s dead.”

  “You touch him.”

  “I told you to do it first.”

  “I’m not doing it … he’s clearly dead.”

  I pinned my twin brother Aidan with a dark look as I stared at the dead Santa Claus in the alley behind the shopping mall. Chris Pringle – no joke – expired while relieving himself next to a large Dumpster in the back of one of Oakland County’s most popular shopping destinations. As a grim reaper by trade – I’m not making that up either – I, Aisling Grimlock, was dispatched to collect his soul for ferrying to another plane of existence.

  I was used to that. I grew up in a reaping family, so I understood how death worked. That didn’t mean I was keen to suck the soul of Christmas’ patron saint while standing in an alley that bore a striking resemblance to a rest stop bathroom … and that was before you took the scent of stale urine into consideration.

  “I can’t believe Dad gave me this job,” I grumbled, jerking a hand through my dark hair and frowning when I touched the bangs I had cut in on a whim a month ago. I wasn’t sure what to think about them, but I was leaning toward outright hate. On the flip side, the white streaks I added to distinguish myself from my lookalike brothers were fading fast. I made a mental note to find time to stop at the beauty shop before the holidays hit. I had to look my best this year, something I never worried about before, and I found my attention split between multiple problems as I stared at the dearly departed mall Santa. “He knows how I feel about Santa Claus.”