by Darci Hannah
“But tomorrow is Christmas Eve, dear,” Mom reminded with a frown. “Isn’t it too late?”
“No. It’s not!” Rory’s face came alive with the possibility. “The ballroom at the hotel is still decorated. Doc Riggles hasn’t returned his Santa suit. And I know that Felicity Stewart has a stash of that sticky hot cocoa somewhere. Let’s do this again, and this time let’s do it right.”
I nodded. “No judges. Just cookies, hot cocoa, Santa, and lots of holiday cheer.” I looked at Mom. “Will you call Betty? She’ll get the ball rolling. She can tell Doc to put on the Santa suit and get ready for visit number two. Kennedy, can you ring Tuck and let him know what we’re doing? I want him to be a part of this.”
“On it!” She looked up from her phone. “Tuck can help me get the contact information of all the shops and the residents and come up with a media blast. Say the word, and I’ll spread the news.”
“Great. I’ll call Felicity and Ginger. Between the three of us, we should have enough cookies to feed the entire county.”
CHAPTER 45
I was filled with new purpose. We were throwing the town another Christmas festival, and this time I had my family and friends to help me. I had stayed up late into the night, talking with Felicity and Ginger. We had all been so swept up in the Christmas cookie bake-off that we had forgotten the most important part—that we were neighbors and friends. I told them about Sophia Argyle-Huffman, a story of a woman they could both relate to. Although death was always tragic, somehow the woman who had wielded the rolling pin seemed less of a monster than the victim. Felicity, having caused serious damage to her marriage due to her foolishness, was grateful to know that her rolling pin had been found intact. Ginger, on the other hand, hadn’t lost much but her self-esteem. Both women were working to put the bake-off behind them and make amends. The new Beacon Harbor Christmas Eve Festival was a good place to start. Felicity offered to supply all the cocoa. Ginger offered to bring more cookies and a few gallons of her surplus ice cream.
Christmas Eve morning, I was bursting with excitement. I awoke early, played with Wellington, then joined Mrs. Nichols in the bakery kitchen. We had a lighter baking schedule due to the fact we were closing at noon. There were still a few special Christmas orders to be made and picked up, as well as our usual assortment of donuts, sweet rolls, coffee cakes, mini quiches, and muffins. And while it was true that we had plenty of cookies for the Christmas festival, it was Christmas Eve, after all, and Mrs. Nichols and I just couldn’t help ourselves. We baked even more cookies.
When Wendy, Elizabeth, and Tom arrived to open the bakeshop, I brought them up to speed regarding Sophia Argyle-Huffman and her confession to the murder of Chevy Chambers. I then told them about the new Christmas festival that would begin at two in the afternoon.
“Will you please call Alaina and Ryan and fill them in?” I asked. “Tell them to spread the word to all your families as well as to our customers. Free cookies, ice cream, and cocoa at the Christmas festival! Also, I hear Santa will be making one last appearance.”
With my Jeep packed with platters and platters of cookies, I left the Beacon early to help set up the ballroom at the hotel. On the drive over, I gave Rory a quick call.
“Are you on your way to the hotel?” he asked.
“I am. I’m meeting Ginger there shortly. We’re going to start setting up the refreshment tables. Betty is picking up Kennedy and Mrs. Nichols. They’ll come a bit later. Also, Felicity will be over as soon as she closes the Tannenbaum Shoppe for the day. They’re running a big Christmas Eve special. Did I tell you how happy she was to hear that her antique rolling pin has been found intact? She couldn’t believe it.”
Rory was silent a moment. “It was intact, wasn’t it?” he remarked. “There wasn’t a scratch on it. Mrs. Nichols made a similar remark, I think.”
His remarks about the rolling pin sent a wave of chills up my spine. My mind began to race through the sequence of events that had taken place since the live bake-off. Finally, I ventured, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“I hope not. I mean, I am thinking it. I’m not a forensic scientist, Lindsey, but that was an old rolling pin. A killing blow would, at the very least, have cracked it.”
“Maybe not. Like my dad always says, back then they built things to last.”
“Dear God,” Rory uttered, his voice fading like the wind from a luffing sail. I didn’t like the sound of it one bit. “How tall would you say Sophia is?”
“I don’t know . . . Five-foot-six, maybe. She’s shorter than I am. Why?”
“She told Tuck that she was facing Chevy when she hit him with the rolling pin. I don’t think she was. I think she was behind him. We saw the body. Chevy was clearly struck from behind.”
My heart was beginning to quicken. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that I think there were more than two people in that room, Lindsey, and possibly a different rolling pin. Chevy was talking with someone else when Sophia hit him. Who is meeting you at the ballroom?”
“Betty and Kennedy. Oh, and Ginger.”
“Ginger wrote the note. Lindsey, hang on. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
* * *
My conversation with Rory had set me on edge. Ginger had admitted to having an affair with Chevy, just as she’d admitted to writing the note that had lured the cookie judge into the room with the mistletoe. She said she had chickened out and never went to meet him. But maybe she had. She might have even known Sophia Argyle-Huffman. Although it was probably nothing, I knew that my mind would spiral out of control if I let it. I had promised to remain vigilant, and I would. But I wouldn’t let my imagination get the best of me. I still needed to set up for the Christmas festival that I had talked the entire village of Beacon Harbor into having.
I entered the hotel carrying two platters loaded with Christmas cookies and walked to the doors of the ballroom. I opened one and looked inside before I entered. Aside from the giant Christmas tree in the center of the room, the place was empty. I was the first to arrive. If Ginger got there before Betty and Kennedy, I’d see her and give her a wide berth.
Only two tables had been set up, and these were sitting against the far wall. I walked across the empty room and set my cookie trays down on one of the tables. I then looked around, thinking of where the best place would be to set up the refreshment tables.
I was scanning the room when a noise from behind the Christmas tree startled me. I turned and saw the form of a man. A moment later, Bradley Argyle, dressed in his chef’s coat, walked out of the tree’s shadow carrying a tray of cookies.
“I brought you these,” he said with a smile. He came toward me, but for some reason, I suddenly didn’t want to be in the room alone with him.
“By the way,” he said, and paused to set the tray down on the table next to mine. “I don’t appreciate the fact that you found my mother. I specifically told you to leave her alone.”
“I had every intention of doing just that,” I lied as I slowly backed away. “But, um, we found her. And then she admitted to killing Chevy Chambers.”
For some reason, he laughed. “That’s the problem. She would admit to it. She’d admit to anything if she thought it would help me.”
Warning bells sounded off in my ears, causing a deafening whoosh. My instincts knew what my brain was trying to figure out; I was standing in the room with the killer. I took a deep breath and realized I should keep him talking. “Your mother must be very devoted to you. You should count yourself lucky to have her.”
“Ha!” he cried. “Lucky? She has never believed in me. Ever since I was a child, she never let me do anything on my own. In school, she always had to write my papers, fill in my math worksheets, and make my dioramas. Heck, even when I tried to get into college, she had to hire someone to take the SAT for me. She’s a helicopter parent on steroids who never believed in her son’s abilities.” Pained by the memories, he shook his head. Obviously, Bradley had snappe
d. Fascinated and horrified, I took a step backward as he talked.
“That’s why I went to culinary school,” he continued. “She couldn’t figure out how to cheat to get me in, and she didn’t need to. I was good at cooking. Cooking gave me confidence. When I got my first job as a cook and she tasted a meal that I had prepared, she was actually surprised. She was proud of me, Lindsey. Genuinely proud of me. She encouraged me to open my first restaurant. She helped me find the perfect location and set the menu. We were working together. I thought she trusted me.” The hurt behind his eyes as he spoke was visceral. “And then what does she do? She goes behind my back, solicits a food critic, and sleeps with him to ensure I’d get a good review. Again, she thought she was doing me a favor, but again, it backfired. The food critic she picked was a sociopath!” He looked disgusted.
“Your mother killed Chevy Chambers because she slept with him and he lied to her. It was revenge, wasn’t it?”
“Oh, Lindsey. Simple Lindsey. She wasn’t trying to kill Chevy Chambers. She was trying to bribe him again. She roped her friends into stealing your cookies because she had convinced them that I needed a leg up in the competition. I got mad at her and told her not to come to the live bake-off. But she didn’t listen. When I saw her and her friends in the crowd, I knew they were up to something. Fortunately for me, it seemed that everyone was up to something. You remember. I baked a damn good cookie. It won the first round, and yet she still had the gall to push that reprobate under the only sprig of mistletoe in this place and make out with him. I followed her there. I saw the whole thing. It was disgusting. She was selling herself all over again to a man who had less scruples than an alley cat. Chevy was encouraging her and laughing at her the whole time. What choice did I have? She is my mother! And she was making a fool of herself without even caring about the consequences.” He shook his head in disgust.
“Well, I cared,” he hissed, frightening me. “You guessed it, didn’t you? You know that I snuck up behind him and put a stop to it.”
“I . . . umm, didn’t know until just now.” Why did I say that? How stupid of me! Clearly, confronting a murderer had freaked me out. Then, to my horror, Bradley flung open his chef’s coat and drew out a marble rolling pin. With his face contorted with rage, he brandished the heavy implement like a sword, then waved it wildly about his head.
The moment I saw it, I knew it was the murder weapon.
The rolling pin stilled in his hand. “When she saw what I had done, and that Chevy was dead, she ran back and stole Felicity’s rolling pin off her baking station.” He rolled his eyes at this—as if she was the crazy one. Unfortunately, Mommy Sticky Fingers wasn’t the only brand of crazy in the family. “Even then, she was trying to put the blame on someone other than me. Felicity was an easy target. But I killed him! And now she wants the world to believe that she did it. Don’t you see? She won’t even let me claim credit for that!”
He spat on the carpet in anger. “You know what? She deserves to be in prison. She can’t try to help me from there. I only wish I had thought of this sooner.”
Bradley was unhinged. It wouldn’t take him long to realize that he’d just confessed everything to me. He might have been crazy, but he wasn’t stupid.
“You’re right,” I said. My plan this time was to throw him off guard. “It’s undoubtedly better. Your secret is safe with me.” I smiled, then bolted for the door.
I’d made it two steps before I was grabbed by the hand and flung backward, crashing into the empty table. The rolling pin was in his hand. He raised it over his head. He brought it down with crushing force, but not before I rolled out of the way. The solid marble landed next to me, cracking the table. I kicked him, then got to my feet, but I was instantly shoved to the ground. As I scrambled toward the doors, I screamed at the top of my lungs. “Help! Help!”
He grabbed me by the leg and tried to haul me back. I fought against him, but his grip was strong. I felt like a frantic rabbit caught by the leg while the hunter tried to club me to death. His first attempt had gone wide. Yet I knew that eventually the hunter would win.
The moment I thought about the hunter, the ballroom doors burst open, and Rory ran inside. I knew how fast he could run. Like that poor hare, unaware that it had been caught in the hunter’s sights, Bradley Argyle never knew what hit him.
CHAPTER 46
With the murder of Chevy Chambers finally solved, the town had a lot to celebrate. For me, however, the horrible incident with Bradley Argyle and his deadly rolling pin was still fresh in my mind. But with each excited child and happy adult who entered the ballroom, my spirits began to lift. Rory, of course, had begun the process by immobilizing Bradley first, then hugging me until I stopped shaking. Betty, Kennedy, and Mrs. Nichols had arrived shortly after Rory, pulling me into their warm circle of comfort as the police arrived to whisk the murderer off to jail. The ballroom had been the scene of chaos. Police and hotel staff filled the room, giving statements and removing the broken table. The only person not entirely happy that Bradley had been apprehended was Chad, the restaurant manager.
“I’m sorry he almost killed you, Lindsey, but he was really talented in the kitchen. I wish this could have waited until after our New Year’s Eve party. It’s sold out, and now I don’t have a chef.” Chad, standing with arms crossed, couldn’t hide the worry on his face.
Kennedy glared at him. “You ridiculous man! No one wants to eat on New Year’s Eve. Stock up on liquor and put out loads of charcuterie boards and hors d’oeuvres. I’ll text you some ideas. Now shoo.” She waved him off like a pesky fly, then she gave me another hug. “Pay no mind to him, Linds. You’re the hero of the day. You caught the baddie, and now you’re saving Christmas too.”
I wasn’t sure it was true, but I loved her confidence. There was a reason Kennedy was my best friend. Besides the fact that I loved her, she always had my back.
With the tables filled with refreshments, and villagers pouring through the ballroom doors, Mrs. Nichols came up beside me.
“I find that there is something extra special about a village gathering on Christmas Eve to celebrate this sacred night when our Savior was born. It’s the season of warmth, made more special by the spirit of giving.”
“And Christmas cookies,” I added, making her smile. “You know, I’ve always tried to pull off the perfect Christmas. This,” I said, gesturing to the crowded room, “might not have been my sugarplum vision, but I think it’s loads better. A celebration before the celebration. And you, Mrs. Nichols, are now part of our family. You will come to my Christmas Eve dinner at the lighthouse tonight, won’t you? Afterward we’re all trudging through the snow to St. Michael’s Presbyterian Church for the midnight service. Betty says it’s not to be missed.”
Mrs. Nichols gave me a hug. “Christmas happens as it will. There is no right way to celebrate. It’s about joy. And I am so happy to be considered part of your family. I must run home, but I will be there for dinner.”
Shortly after Mrs. Nichols left the hotel, Felicity came through the ballroom doors with her husband and two handsome young adults. One look and I knew that her son and daughter had made it home for Christmas.
“Lindsey!” Felicity waved as she pulled the young adults over to meet me. “You will never believe what happened. My Christmas wish came true! Can you believe it?” Her large eyes misted over with tears of joy as she spoke. “This is Kara and Kevin, my children. They decided at the last minute that they didn’t want to celebrate Christmas alone. We’re celebrating as a family! I promised them that this year is going to be different, very low-key,” she assured everyone within hearing. “They get to decide on the traditions they want to celebrate and the food they want to eat, even if it is chicken Parmesan.” This she said with a smile, looking at her husband. “I’ve put Stanley in charge of the Christmas music. I don’t even care if ‘Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer’ plays over and over. Whatever he thinks is best.”
That made me smile. I knew how hard it
must be for Felicity to let go of her ideal Christmas, but I was happy she did. She was realizing that Christmas was not about her and her rigid ideas, but about the importance of family. I was truly happy for her. After I’d greeted Kara, Kevin, and Stanley, Felicity shooed them off to the refreshment table. “It’s really remarkable. I know this may sound odd, but I think your Mrs. Nichols had something to do with it. She came to my store that day I saw you. She saw that I was . . . well, unhappy. Then she asked me, if I could have one Christmas wish, what would it be? Of course, I told her that all I wanted was for my children to come home. She asked a little bit about them and then told me”—she lowered her voice—“she told me she’d let Santa know.”
I started to laugh. “She does that. It’s so cute. Kennedy once told me that Mrs. Nichols was rocking a look. What she meant was that Mrs. Nichols is a kindly old woman who looks like Mrs. Claus, so she’s embracing the spirit of the season and acting the part for us. Believing with all your heart, she once told me, is a powerful gift. Maybe it was Stanley who convinced them to come home. But I’ll let Mrs. Nichols know that your Christmas wish came true.”
It was so good to see Ali and Jack Johnson and all their grandchildren. The kids, all five of them, were making a beeline for Santa. I thought Doc Riggles was playing Santa until he strode up beside me with Betty.
“If you’re here, who’s over there?” I asked, pointing to the festival’s version of the North Pole, designed and donated by Felicity Stewart, who really was the queen of holiday décor.
“Bill Morgan,” he said with a grin. “I’ve had my time in the Santa chair. I felt it was time to share the privilege. Bill’s grandkids are going to love this.”
Betty and Doc then proceeded to the refreshment table. While Betty put some cookies on her plate, Doc went straight to the ice cream. Ginger gave him a generous scoop of fudge ripple. It was at that moment her daughter, Kate, ran over to her. Ginger abandoned her scoop and took her daughter by the hand. The two ran to the dance floor and began wiggling and shaking to “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree.” Rory had taken charge of music with his holiday playlist. He was hitting it out of the park.
