Liss resisted the urge to hang up on her “old friend.” Gina owed her.
It took some fast talking, and a threat or two, but in the end Gina agreed to let Andy go ahead with her plans for the holiday season, bankrolling any additional expense involved in cleaning up after the fire. Satisfied, Liss disconnected.
Dawn was breaking as they drove away from the Christmas tree farm, Liss and Sherri dressed in their borrowed clothing and Dan still wrapped in a blanket.
Two weeks later, in early December, Liss, Dan, Sherri, and Pete drove back to New Boston. Liss had been in touch with Andy almost daily, but she was still astonished to see the progress the young woman had made in her absence. Neighbors had helped clear away the debris from the house fire and cover over the cellar hole. A fresh coat of snow now blanketed what had once been an ugly scar on the landscape.
“This is amazing!” Liss exclaimed as Andy led them past the burned field. Dan and Pete each carried a bright red plastic tarp, while Sherri had charge of two handsaws. “That was such an eyesore, and now you can’t even tell where the charred tree stumps were.”
There was already a family—parents and two children under the age of six—searching for the perfect tree in the lot. The little girl wore a cap with antlers on it. The boy had on a Santa hat. Their delighted laughter filled the crisp winter air.
“We should have brought the kids,” Sherri said.
“Next year,” Pete promised. “Amber will be old enough to appreciate the experience by then. And the long drive won’t be as likely to make her cranky.”
“We’ll see,” Sherri said, and she and Pete exchanged sappy smiles.
Liss felt a moment’s guilt at depriving her friends of the fun that other family was enjoying, but she’d encouraged them to leave Adam and Amber behind. The conversation she intended to have with Andy was likely to contain material unfit for young ears.
“Any new developments?” she asked in what she hoped was a casual voice.
With four avid listeners surrounding her, Andy turtled her head, suddenly self-conscious. “A few,” she mumbled.
Liss sent her an encouraging smile. She could well imagine what the local gossips had been saying about Juliette’s arrest, especially when Kitty and Josie had been taken into custody right afterward. The local paper would have reported the nature of their alleged crimes, and it wouldn’t have taken a rocket scientist to figure out their connection to Dance-Ex.
Andy shrugged. “You probably know more than I do.”
“We’ve had a few updates,” Sherri admitted. “The last time I checked, Kitty and Josie were out on bail, but Juliette, with three counts of homicide against her, will have to remain in jail, awaiting trial. As for Wyatt Purvey, I understand he’s had a complete mental breakdown. He’s in the hospital, being evaluated.”
Andy was nodding. “It didn’t help that his mother had a heart attack when she heard he’d been arrested. He thought she was dying. She isn’t. She’s driving the nurses at the hospital crazy because she insists that her son was framed.”
“Mother love,” Liss murmured, although she had more sympathy for the other mother in the case, Rowena Luckenbill.
“Anything else?” Dan asked.
“Well, Mike Jennings got a crappy deal.”
Sherri stiffened. “What are you talking about? He was instrumental in uncovering Purvey’s other crimes.”
“We figured he’d be acting chief of police by now,” Pete remarked.
But Andy was shaking her head. “The town manager didn’t take kindly to losing both his administrative assistant and his chief of police.”
“Not to mention he was probably a tad embarrassed because he never noticed that Purvey had embezzled from the town coffers,” Liss muttered. She wondered if Beatrice Purvey had stuck her finger in that pie, helping to cover up what her son had done.
“The board of selectmen was some put out, too,” Andy said. “They had a meeting last week and fired the entire police force, including Mike Jennings.”
“Idiots,” Pete said.
The expression “throwing out the baby with the bathwater” came to mind, but Liss couldn’t get a word in edgewise to voice it. Between Sherri’s pithy comments and the expletives Pete showered on New Boston’s town fathers, the air around them came very close to turning blue.
These were all delivered in low voices, in deference to the family coming toward them with their Christmas tree.
“Do you have to take care of them?” Liss asked.
“Mom can do it. She knows I wanted the chance to talk with you.”
Liss’s eyebrows shot up. “Mom?”
Andy shrugged. “Did you really think I could stop her from volunteering?”
Pete and Sherri wandered off in search of their own Christmas tree. At Dan’s urging, he and Liss followed suit, but at a slower pace. Dan was still on crutches.
Although Liss had spent a fair amount of time looking at the trees before this, everything seemed different now that her agenda had changed. Which one would look best in their living room? Was that one too tall? Too full? Not full enough? And was she going to have to go out and buy more ornaments and lights? Some of the joy she’d felt as a child on a similar mission reasserted itself as they spread out.
Dan, ever practical, used one of the crutches to make little Xs in the snow beside each tree that he thought was a possibility. When they’d been through the entire lot, they circled back, taking a second look at each candidate before making a final decision.
“You’re going to have to cut it down.” Dan offered her the saw.
“If you kneel on the tarp, you’ll stay dry.” Andy made the suggestion with the air of one who had given the same advice dozens of times during the past week.
It was a good idea, especially since achieving the correct angle from which to use the saw required not only kneeling, but also lying down full length on the ground. The tree toppled over with a minimum of effort after that and, once positioned on the tarp, was ready to be dragged back to the Quonset hut for netting.
Following a trail of cute hand-lettered signs, they reached the overhead door at the far end of the Quonset hut. It had been left open to give customers access to the two netters, but nothing else inside was as Liss expected. Gone were the John Deere tractor and the piles of miscellaneous junk.
Christmas music from hidden speakers greeted her first, along with a profusion of Christmas decorations. They led the eye not toward the netters, but rather to a section of the interior that had been partitioned off. It had its own door, with a sign above it that said SANTA’S GIFT SHOP. Smaller signs told customers that it was heated inside—welcome news after spending time out in the cold, hunting for a tree—and that there was free hot cocoa available.
“Go ahead in,” Andy said. “Mom will take your money and give you a receipt while I put your trees through the netter. If you had little kids with you, I’d let them turn the crank. They get a huge charge out of that.”
The small gift shop was a revelation. A sales counter on wheels was to her right as Liss walked in, a smiling Mrs. Dutton—the embodiment of Mrs. Claus—seated on a stool behind it. On top were an iPad with a PayPal attachment, a receipt book, a pocket calculator, and a display of maple syrup bottles in various sizes, all provided by a local farm.
“Help yourself to hot chocolate,” Mrs. Dutton invited Liss, gesturing to a small table that held a hot-water dispenser, packets of cocoa, a stack of Styrofoam cups, a mug full of wooden stirrers, and a roll of paper towels to mop up spills.
Liss had expected to see wreaths for sale, but she was unprepared for the wide variety of stock displayed in such a relatively small space. There were wreaths, but there were other Christmas decorations, as well, and they were not the boxes of colorful balls of the sort found in any store during this season. Each one was unique, made by a local craftsperson. With a low whistle of appreciation, Dan went to inspect them more closely.
Autographed copies of children’s b
ooks by a Maine author were nicely arranged on a second small table, the one title with a Christmas theme displayed so that the front cover rather than the spine faced out. Colorful knitted throws, hats, and scarves filled the rest of the shelf and table space, all of them for sale. Sweaters, it appeared, were reserved for Andy.
That young woman joined them after netting the trees, humming along with Bing Crosby’s rendition of “White Christmas.”
“Where’s Pete?” Sherri asked.
“He’s tying the trees to the rack on top of his car. I’m not allowed to do that for customers. Gina says it gets tricky legally if a tree falls off. If the customer does it, though, anything that happens is his own fault.”
“I am seriously impressed by everything you’ve accomplished here,” Liss told her young protégé. “If Gina isn’t able to sell the place right away, I’ll lobby her to let you continue to sell trees here until your own crop is ready.”
“Already talked to her,” Andy said. “She said she’ll consider it if the profits are good.”
Liss jumped when a Klaxon sounded.
“That’s the alarm for the driveway,” Andy explained. “A customer’s about to drive into the parking area. Gotta go.”
Mrs. Dutton watched her daughter leave, a smug expression on her face. “She rigged that up herself,” she announced with pride. “And when someone walks in front of the sensor on the corner of this building, coming back with a tree, we get another signal. That one sounds like sleigh bells.”
“Clever.” Liss couldn’t get over the change in Mrs. Dutton’s attitude. As she pulled out her wallet to pay for her tree, she risked a question. “How come you used to be so opposed to having Andy help out here?”
Her shrug was an exact duplicate of her daughter’s. “Seemed like that Ms. Snowe was taking advantage of her. Oh, she gave her money to stock the house with groceries, and she kept to the bargain her father made with Andy to look after the place, but she never said one word about a raise. Wouldn’t you think that after seven years my girl would be entitled to one?”
“Yes. Yes, I do,” Liss told her, “but it sounds as if Andy has figured out how to deal with Gina Snowe. Maybe better than I ever have.”
A short time later, they were in the car and headed home. Liss was feeling rather pleased with the way things had worked out for Andy. She tried not to think of the other, less happy outcomes.
“Damn shame about Mike Jennings,” Dan said.
From the backseat, where she and Sherri sat, Liss saw Pete meet his wife’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He gave a slight nod. Liss turned in time to see Sherri’s lips curve into a small, satisfied smile.
“What?”
It was Pete who answered. “I phoned Mike after I finished getting the Christmas trees tied down. There’s a job opening up in Carrabassett County. One of the old guard is about to retire, and we’ll need to hire a new deputy. Mike’s definitely interested. It seems his attachment to his old hometown isn’t quite as strong as it used to be. He’s not only willing to move, but he’s also eager.”
“Good to know.” Sherri’s smile turned into a grin. “Because if the county job doesn’t pan out, there might just be an opening for another police officer in Moosetookalook. This time around, I’m planning to take a nice long maternity leave.”
KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by
Kensington Publishing Corp.
119 West 40th Street
New York, NY 10018
Copyright © 2014 by Kathy Lynn Emerson
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
Library of Congress Card Catalogue Number: 2014945535
Kensington and the K logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.
ISBN: 978-0-7582-9283-4
First Kensington Hardcover Edition: November 2014
eISBN-13: 978-1-61773-616-2
eISBN-10: 1-61773-616-3
Kensington Electronic Edition: November 2014
Ho-Ho-Homicide (A Liss MacCrimmon Mystery Book 8) Page 25
