Murder for the Holidays

by B. T. Lord

  Cammie watched for several moments before reaching out to grab it back – she’d never be able to live with herself if she allowed a delicious lemon tart to go to waste. She was stopped mid-air when Jace abruptly placed his hand on her arm.

  “Five seconds to a clean getaway,” she murmured as she allowed him to lead her off to the living room where they sat down and spent the rest of the evening watching “It’s a Wonderful Life” with Jimmy Stewart and Donna Reed, followed by “The Bishop’s Wife,” starring Cary Grant and Loretta Young. It was eleven pm when everyone finally called it a day and went upstairs to bed.

  Cammie abruptly awoke out of a sound sleep. For a moment she didn’t know where she was. Rolling over, she almost fell off the tiny bed. She managed to catch herself just in time as it all came flooding back to her. Back home she and Jace shared a king size bed and she was accustomed to not only stretching out but cuddling with him when she’d awaken in the middle of the night. Now however, she was consigned to a bed the size of a two by four plank and if she wanted to cuddle with Jace, she’d need to climb onto his bed and practically sit on him. She sat up and pulled her hand through her auburn curls. What had awakened her? The neighborhood was silent, the only sound a low even breathing from Jace’s bed. Glancing over in the darkened room, she could just make out his dim figure asleep beneath the covers.

  She leaned over and saw the red display on the small clock on the night table telling her it was 2:30 in the morning. She was about to roll back over when she realized she had to go to the bathroom. Trying very hard not to awaken Jace, she climbed out of bed and made her way to the door in the darkness. She opened it and stepped out into the hallway where thankfully Pamela had a night light plugged in that allowed her to see where she was going. She found the bathroom, did her business and was on her way back when she heard a step on the staircase. Without thinking, she scooted back into her bedroom and peeked out through the crack in the door. A few moments later in the gloom set off from the tiny nightlight, she saw Harold appear on the landing. What surprised her was not that Harold was climbing the stairs so early in the morning, but that he appeared to be dressed in street clothes. She waited until he entered his bedroom and shut the door before she shut hers.

  She climbed back into the bed and lay there, her mind filled with questions. They’d all gone to bed at the same time. Where had he gone at such an hour? Was the argument preying on his mind that he felt the need to go out? Was the sound of his arrival back at the house responsible for awakening her?

  Just what was it about the argument with Long that was eating away at Harold and Pamela? If what Samantha said was correct and it had turned physical, were they terrified he was going to be sued for assault?

  If she were back in Twin Ponds, it wouldn’t be difficult to interview the participants and bystanders and get to the bottom of what the argument was about. But she was out of her jurisdiction. Here in Beachport, she was simply a visitor. Her badge meant nothing. Still, her mind swirled with possibilities and she fell asleep no closer to a solution.

  The next morning dawned grey. Once again, a dusting of snow had fallen during the night, adding to the light layer already glistening on everyone’s lawns.

  It had taken Cammie a long time to fall asleep after her near encounter with Harold. When she’d finally drifted off, it was into a deep hard sleep. She rolled over in bed and noticed the covers of Jace’s bed pulled back. She sat up and saw he was gone.

  “Damn!” she exclaimed as she jumped out of bed. The last thing she wanted was to be the last one down to breakfast. Having made the decision to put her best foot forward, she could just picture the Northcotts’ disapproving faces as they held up their meal until she came down. Or worse – believed her to be some kind of lazy layabout. She swiftly showered, threw on a sweater and jeans and ran down the steps. To her relief, it appeared Aunt Pru hadn’t come downstairs yet.

  Harold was sitting in the living room, a cup of coffee in his hand as he absently stared at the fire in the fireplace. He was so preoccupied he didn’t hear her step on the stair. The man looked as though he hadn’t slept. His face was drawn and exhausted.

  Not wishing to disturb him, Cammie skirted the living room and went into the kitchen where she found Jace and his mother deep in conversation. He had a coffee cup in his hand and was casually leaning against the counter, but she instantly felt the tension in the air. It increased when they saw her and immediately shut up. Praying the two weren’t discussing her, but guessing they were, she plastered a smile on her face.

  “Good morning, Pamela. Hey Jace, you should have awakened me,” she said as she grabbed a mug and poured herself some coffee.

  “You were sound asleep. I didn’t want to disturb you.” He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. Out of the corner of her eye, Cammie caught the disapproving look on Pamela’s face before it disappeared under a smile that was as fake as her own.

  “There’s some blueberry muffins on the table. I can also make you some eggs and bacon if you’d like,” Pamela said.

  Cammie put her hand up. “That’s okay. I love blueberry muffins.”

  Pouring a packet of sugar and half and half into her coffee, she once again noted the woman’s swift disapproving look. Glancing over, she noticed Pamela took her coffee black.

  Are you really ready to hang me upside down because I like cream and sugar in my coffee? Really?

  Cammie swallowed her irritation. Making sure to keep her smile fixed in place, she took her cup and sat down at the table. Reaching out, she grabbed one of the muffins and pulled it apart. She popped a piece into her mouth and almost choked. She quickly took a gulp of coffee and caught her breath as the dry mass finally made it down her throat.

  “Is there anything I can do to help you get ready for Christmas Eve dinner?” she said once she was sure she had her voice back.

  “Thank you, but Pru and I have it under control.” Pamela turned back to her son. “As I was saying, I believe Pru would love a gift that’s somehow knitting related. She’s been doing more of it since Roy died. I think it’s some form of meditation for her. Perhaps some skeins of yarn. She adores autumn colors. There happens to be a yarn shop off Main Street on Sand Road where you should be able to find what you’re looking for. On the way back, you can stop off at the market and pick me up a bag of potatoes. Have to make sure we have enough mashed potatoes for our Christmas Eve dinner. In fact, I’ll make you a list of things you can get for me.”

  Before Jace could respond, she took her cup of coffee and left the kitchen. He threw Cammie a concerned look.

  “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she’s trying to keep us out of the house. Yesterday it was the Christmas tree. Now it’s going out to buy her groceries.”

  “And to purchase Aunt Pru some yarn,” she said as she got up and threw her arms around Jace’s waist. “There’s enough worry around here to stop a bull moose in its tracks. Let’s not add anymore to the mix.”

  His response was to pull her tighter against him.

  They remained this way for a moment before Cammie gently let him go and returned to the kitchen table. She scooped up the remains of the muffin and wrapped it in the paper towel before tossing it into the garbage. A moment later, Harold entered, closely followed by Pamela.

  “I was going to wait until Christmas Eve dinner to make the announcement, but I don’t see why we need to wait.” He looked expectantly at Jace while Pamela hovered near his elbow. Her face was blank, but Cammie saw the tension in her jawline.

  “What’s up, Dad?” Jace asked.

  “Your mother and I have decided to move back to Twin Ponds.”

  Shit! Cammie thought as she felt her smile slip. She ducked her head until she was sure her expression of dismay was gone. She glanced over to Jace and saw the surprise on his face.

  “I thought you and Mom loved it here. You made the move specifically to be closer to the ocean.”

  “That’s true. But we miss being with
family. You and Pru are so far away. If we move back, we’ll only be a few hours from Pru and moments from you.”

  Yoo-hoo! And me too! Cammie inwardly fumed.

  “I called Cal Spencer this morning and told him to start lining up some houses for us to look at after the first of the year.”

  Jace was dumbstruck as he stared at his parents in disbelief. “The first of the year?” he finally said. “Isn’t that a bit – I dunno – fast? I mean, don’t you want to at least wait until spring after the snows have melted?”

  Harold threw his arm around his wife’s shoulders. “In case you haven’t noticed, we aren’t getting any younger. Whatever time we have left, we want to share it with our only son.”

  Shit! Shit! Shit!

  The muffin Cammie had eaten was now wedged like a rock in her stomach. Afraid she was about to toss it back up, she said, “Cal is a great realtor. I’m sure he’ll be able to find you a terrific house.” She turned to Jace and rested her hand on his arm. “Won’t that be great, Jace? Now you’ll be able to visit more often with your parents.”

  He threw her a look as if she’d lost her mind. She ignored it as she turned back to the couple. “If you have that shopping list, Jace and I will get going. I’d like to get all the shopping done before it starts to snow. It looks like it’s going to start up again any minute.”

  They were barely in the truck when Jace rested his palm against Cammie’s forehead.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “I’m making sure you’re not feverish.” He took his hand away. “I think I need to get you an appointment with Doc. Obviously you’re not well.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Then you’re delusional. You actually said it was a good idea that my mother and father move back to Twin Ponds.”

  “What else was I supposed to say? ‘Your decision to move back is going to make our lives a friggin’ nightmare?”

  Jace shrugged as he pulled away from the house. “Ugh,” he sighed. “It is going to be a nightmare, isn’t it?”

  She glanced at him. “Is that what you and your Mom were talking about when I went into the kitchen this morning?”

  He hesitated, then sighed again. “She wanted to know why I love you so much.”

  Cammie smiled as she pointed to herself. “Isn’t it obvious?” When he failed to smile, she reached out and squeezed his arm. “Jace, there’s obviously something else going on. Maybe it’s the argument your dad had with Mr. Long. Maybe it’s something else.”

  “You’re not going to tell me you think the argument has something to do with their sudden decision to move back to Twin Ponds?” he asked.

  “Well, now that you mention it…” She saw the depressed look on his face. “Look, until they decide to confide in you, if they decide to confide in you, you have no choice but to let it go. Christmas is in a few days. Let’s just try to enjoy it.”

  He nodded. “Another reason I love you. Despite the possibility of Mom and Dad moving back to Twin Ponds, you’re determined not to let it ruin our Christmas.”

  “I am pretty wonderful, aren’t I?” she joked as she turned towards the window so he wouldn’t see the misery in her eyes. Harold and Pamela back in Twin Ponds. Back in their faces – back in her face.

  Santa, don’t fail me now. I’m really in need of a miracle here.

  Reaching downtown, it took them a few minutes to find the yarn shop. It was a small hole in the wall establishment, but when they emerged ten minutes later, they’d bought four skeins of a deep red and brown soft merino yarn Aunt Pru could use to knit a scarf. Or a shawl. Or a noose for Cammie if Harold and Pam really did end up moving to Twin Ponds.

  The supermarket was ten minutes away. They found a spot in the parking lot and as they emerged from the truck, they noticed a commotion down the street near the Christmas tree. There were flashing police lights and a small group of people gathered that immediately caught their attention.

  “I hope there wasn’t some kind of accident,” Jace said as they stood in the cold. “I can’t imagine having a loved one hurt or killed just before Christmas.”

  “Whatever it is, it looks like the police have cordoned off the area,” Cammie responded as she stood on her tiptoes and tried to peer down the street.

  They turned away and went into the market. They quickly found the items Pamela had written down on her list and got into the checkout line.

  There was a middle-aged couple standing in front of them. When they reached the register, it became obvious they knew the cashier – a red haired woman who looked to be the same age as the couple.

  “What’s all the ruckus down the street?” the shopper asked.

  “Didn’t you hear?” The cashier responded as she scanned their items quickly. “A jogger found a body under the Christmas tree early this morning.”

  The couple gasped. “Oh my God! What happened? Was the person hit by a car? I honestly don’t know why they left that island in the middle of a busy street—"

  The cashier interrupted. “Wasn’t a car accident. That loan officer from the bank – what’s-his-name - was shot right in the stomach. He bled out all over Natasha King’s Christmas display that she spent months working on.” She shook her head sadly. “It’s totally ruined now.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Cammie and Jace caught their breath. After the couple left and the cashier turned to ringing up their items, Cammie replied, “We couldn’t help but overhear the conversation. Have the police caught whoever shot the loan officer?”

  “Not yet, as far as I know.”

  “What a terrible thing to happen, especially at this time of year,” she continued. “His family is going to be devastated.”

  “Oh, he didn’t have a family.” The cashier looked to the right and left, then leaned in slightly. “I know it isn’t polite to speak ill of the dead, but I don’t believe in sugar coating a person after they’ve died. The truth is, that man was not a nice person. He ran the loan department like his own personal fiefdom. He took pleasure in turning down hard-working people who needed a loan. In fact, I heard the bank president was on the verge of firing him. It’s karma, if you ask me.”

  “Do they have any idea when he was murdered?”

  “Sometime during the night is all I know. The jogger found the body at around 6:30 this morning.”

  Cammie’s blood ran cold as they paid for the groceries and slowly walked out to their truck. They didn’t say a word until they were inside the vehicle.

  “That sounds like the same man your father had the argument with yesterday,” she said.

  “Dad is not a murderer,” Jace snapped angrily.

  “Babe, I didn’t say he was.”

  “I hear a but in there.”

  Cammie hesitated saying anything. She didn’t want to add to Jace’s concern. But after hearing about the murder, Harold’s appearance on the stair at 2:30 in the morning took on a more sinister turn.

  “Look, last night something woke me out of a sound sleep. I got up and went to the bathroom. As I was coming back to bed, I heard someone on the stair. I scooted into the bedroom and saw your dad on the landing.”

  “Yeah so?”

  “It was 2:30 in the morning. And he was fully dressed.”

  Jace jerked his head around sharply and stared at her for a few seconds. His blue eyes hardened before turning his gaze back out the front windshield. He remained silent, but she saw his shoulders curl in as if the air had been knocked out of him. She reached out to him. “It may not mean anything.”

  Jace abruptly turned on the ignition and pulled out of the supermarket parking lot. They were halfway back to his parents’ house before he spoke. “Dad has always been punctual about bedtime. The only time he hasn’t gone to bed at 11 is on New Year’s Eve.” He pursed his lips. “This isn’t good,” he muttered under his breath.

  “Jace, don’t get wound up. He hasn’t been himself since we arrived. Maybe he was worried Long might sue over the argument and co
uldn’t sleep so he decided to go for a walk. Or maybe he got dressed and meant to go for a walk but sat downstairs in front of the fire instead. We just don’t know. Nor do we know if the victim really is Walter Long.”

  Cammie was surprised to see a flash of anger crease his face. “Don’t mollycoddle me, Cammie. Unless Beachport has a supply of loan officers who make it a point of being a complete shit, it has to be Long who was killed last night. The same Long who Dad had an argument with yesterday morning. And now you tell me a man who has always gone to bed at 11 and gotten up at 6 is now coming up the stairs, fully dressed at 2:30 in the morning. It’s completely out of character for him. That stretches the bounds of coincidence, don’t you think?” He caught himself, his anger now turned to disgust. “God, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t take it out on you.”

  “It’s alright, sweetheart. You have every right to be worried. We’ll figure it out.”

  Her heart broke for him. In spite of his parents being difficult when it came to his relationship with her, she knew how much he loved them. They’d always been there for him, supporting him and encouraging him throughout the years. She saw the battle within him, and the fear that his father just might be a killer.

  Snow started to fall as they turned down the street that led to the Northcott home. Cammie knew that if the local police didn’t know about the argument between Harold and Walter Long, they soon would. And as soon as they found out, they’d be knocking on his door.

  It was exactly what she would do.

  Drawing nearer, she realized how right she was. A police cruiser was parked in the driveway. Cammie glanced at Jace and saw the tension in his jawline. She immediately took out her ID and badge from her pocket as they climbed out of the truck, grabbed the groceries and hurried inside.

  A sandy haired police officer was sitting with Pamela and Pru in the living room. At the sight of her son, Pamela jumped up from the sofa and hurried to him.

  “Oh thank God you’re here,” she said tearfully.

  “Who are you?” the police officer asked.