On the other side of the stage by the tree was the high school marching band, in uniform with instruments poised.
A lovely girl in her early teens made her way onto the stage in a white dress trimmed in red satin, and Bud greeted her warmly. Her sash said Christmas Angel.
A siren from the firetruck on exhibit not far away sounded one time, indicating that it was 7:00 p.m. and time to begin. The footlights on the front of the stage came on, and Bud approached the mic stand.
“Howdy, there, Creekers and visitors from around the area! Welcome to the kickoff of our annual Paint Creek Christmas Festival!”
The band played the first few rousing bars of We Wish You a Merry Christmas. Then they stopped, and the crowd applauded. Bud described some of the events and festivities.
Then the crowd started shouting for Santa Claus.
“Where’s Santa?”
“Yeah! We want Santa Claus!”
“Santa! Santa! Santa!”
Bud made downward motions with his hands to calm the crowd, and then admonitions of, “Shh! Shh! Shh!” could be heard from the crowd as it quieted down.
“You’ll meet Santa soon enough. But first I want you to meet the young lady who is going to introduce Santa for you. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome this year’s winner of Paint Creek’s Christmas Angel Pageant, and our mascot for the festival. From Paint Creek Junior High School, please welcome Miss Katie Ann Holloway!”
The band played again briefly as the crowd cheered and applauded.
“Oh!” I whispered to Brody. “I’ll bet that's Teddy Holloway’s little girl! Isn’t she adorable?”
Brody nodded.
“Congratulations, Katie Ann,” Bud said. “And, well, every angel has to have her wings. So now, on behalf of the village of Paint Creek, I would like to present you with your Christmas Angel wings!”
More music. More clapping. Bud put the toy store wings on the little girl.
Brody gave me an odd look. “Those look more like butterfly wings, than angel wings, don’t they?”
“Actually, they’re fairy princess wings.”
He gave me another odd look, but I didn’t flinch.
“It takes a trained eye to tell them apart.”
Finally, the moment came, and he gave Katie the microphone. All she said was:
“Heeeeeere’s Santa Claus!”
The spotlights flooded the gate to Santa’s Wonderland as the curtains opened and the band played Here Comes Santa Claus.
The crowd clapped and cheered, and Santa’s elves took the stage first. It was our Deloris first, looking very elf-ish, followed by two of our favorite regulars at the diner, Red and Jake.
Red is in his 70s now and has a crush on Deloris. Jake is still under 50, portly, not very tall, and the owner of Carter & Son Construction Company with his son, Junior, who shares his body type.
Then we heard the first ho-ho-hos and saw an arm waving as Junior came up the steps to the stage. The crowd became uncharacteristically quiet. White powder was wafting off his black beard as he walked to the microphone in…red pajamas!
“Merrrrry Christmas!” Junior said convincingly into the microphone, but the crowd wasn’t having it.
“Where’s your Santa Suit?” A child called out from in front of the stage.
“My suit? Well, um…it was at the cleaners, and Prancer is bringing it in, special delivery, first thing in the morning! Ho ho ho! I thought it might be kind of fun for you all to see how Santa dresses when he’s at home!”
It was a disaster, but it didn’t deter the kids from lining up to sit on his lap. I mean, he was a wonderful Santa, he really was, but the disappointment of the kids was obvious.
The tree did look beautiful, though. When Santa flipped the switch that brought back most of the merriment.
Santa and his elves had just waved their goodbyes on their way to Wonderland and the band had stopped playing when we heard a shrill, shrieking scream from a woman at the life-sized nativity scene near the east side of the park.
“What is she screaming?” I asked Brody?
He looked quite alarmed as he grabbed my arm and started running. “I think she’s screaming, Bloody murder!”
Chapter Three
The Sheriff’s Department was providing security for the event, so there were already several cruisers at the venue, as well as ambulance and fire. The nativity was quickly surrounded with flashing lights, and a deputy was cordoning off a perimeter around it with yellow tape, attaching it to trees and road-block sawhorses. The people were kept back at least 20 feet, but I went in with Brody.
“She’s an ER nurse,” Brody said to a deputy I hadn’t seen before.
“Go on ahead in, Sheriff, but I doubt if a nurse is going to be able to do anything for this guy. He looks pretty dead.” The officer just kept chewing his gum and seemed very dispassionate, which I suppose is good in law enforcement.
“Oh, my gosh!” I said as we approached the body.
A well-dressed man in his 50s was lying on his back, eyes still open. He was laid out in front of the manger with what must have been a two-foot long candy cane plunged through his chest.
An EMT was kneeling over him, waiting for the crime team.
“He’s dead,” he told Brody and me.
I pointed to the murder weapon. “Is that a real candy cane?”
“I don’t know. Want to take a lick?” He said, snorting a couple of times. “Sorry, ma’am. CSI humor. Actually, no, but it looks pretty real. It’s a real walking cane, though. I’ve seen a few of them around tonight.” He pointed to the bottom 12 inches of the cane a few feet away. “That part is a sheath for a foot-long blade that allows you to use the cane kind of like a sword, or maybe a letter opener, I guess. Must be custom-made though, ’cause the ones they sell in the Christmas Market here are one solid piece. I was able to see that the blade goes all the way through him when I was checking to see if he was still alive.”
“Wait!” I said, looking at the man’s familiar face. “Isn’t that the news anchor from Channel 7?”
“I think so,” the young man said. “yeah pretty sure this is Ed Greely.”
Suddenly I felt dizzy and a little nauseous. I wasn’t ready for another murder – not now; not right before Christmas. The world was spinning, and it was difficult to stand up. I could feel my knees going weak, so I took a step back and took a hold of Brody’s hand. I think I actually fell asleep for a brief moment, but everything looked a little brighter and better when I opened my eyes.
“Brody…”
“Yes, dear?”
“I’m…it’s, um, Christmas, and, you know…”
“I know. You don’t want to be tracking down a killer and thinking about this bloody scene. I don’t want you to either.”
“Are you sure? I mean, we work so well together on these things.” I was feeling a lot better already.
“We do. I might ask for your opinion on some things from time to time. You need your rest, and no stress for a while. You’ve been working too hard and missing meals for two weeks now. Besides, you’ve got a more important mission right now.”
“I do? What’s that?”
“Well, besides running the busiest concession stand at the festival and running a diner too, I saw your brain working overtime when Junior showed up in red pajamas. You have to find Santa a real Santa suit – a proper one, worthy of a great Santa like Junior.”
He was right. That’s exactly what I wanted to do. I don’t know how, but he was really tuned into my every thought and need right now.
“Why don’t you head over to Santa’s workshop now and see how the gang is doing, Merse? I’ll wait for the medical examiner and crime team. We’ll be here late, because we’ll want to get a photograph of everyone in the area before they leave, but we’ll do our best not to interfere with the fun of the festival.”
I smiled at him. No wonder I loved this man.
“Meet me there later?”
“Will do.”
I practically ran back to Santa’s Wonderland. Something felt different tonight. Good different. Maybe it was the Christmas spirit. I felt light as a feather as I ran, and I arrived there in no time at all, almost like Scotty beamed me up.
It was very busy at Santa’s place. The kids didn’t seem to mind the red pajamas anymore, though the parents were still whispering about it.
A little boy, about 5, was sitting on Junior’s lap, punching him in the tummy. “Is that your real fat belly, Santa? Last year Santa had a pillow under his shirt.”
“Ho ho ho, little one! That’s my bowl full of jelly!”
Junior grabbed his belly with both hands and shook it. It jiggled wildly, much to the child’s delight. As for me, I was wondering how I could “unsee” it.
Deloris was making her way down the line of children, handing out candy canes. She bent over, putting her hands on her knees to talk to one really cute little gal.
“What’s your name, sweetheart?”
I couldn’t hear the meek response, but I listened to Deloris for a while.
“Oh, my! Cassandra is a lovely name. You must be about 7, I think.”
The girl nodded.
“Well, I’ve got a special treat for a big girl like you. Do you like chocolate?”
The girl jumped a little and clapped her tiny hands one time.
Deloris gave her a few pieces of foil-wrapped chocolate and had a huge smile when she turned to see me standing with my arms folded behind her. She stopped smiling.
“So, how are the awful little monsters treating you tonight, Deloris?”
She walked away from the line to talk to me. “What are you looking so smug about, Mercy Howard? They’re awful, as usual, but I’ve been on my best behavior.”
“I see that. Who’s the little darling you gave the chocolate kisses too?”
“That’s Cassandra Breen. I suppose she has some potential as a decent human being. So, what’s all the fuss down by the nativity scene?”
I winced. “It’s not good. I’ll tell you all about it later. Where’s Jake?”
“Oh, he’s in the big barn out back, trying to get the old wagon ready for hay rides. Hopefully he’ll have it working by tomorrow. It’s got a broken axel. Red’s taking a nap with the invisible reindeer, so it’s just me and Junior holding down the fort.”
“Good, then. I’ll let you get back to your drudgery with the children of the corn.”
I noticed a very lean young pre-teen girl lurking several paces from Santa’s big chair, just behind Junior’s peripheral vision. She had been watching him very closely, and now she was glancing at me repeatedly. She looked to be 11 or 12, with spindly, lanky arms and legs – but still healthy-looking. And, well, she had rather pointy ears sticking out from under her hay-colored straight hair.
Maybe “lurking” is the wrong word, as she really didn’t seem sinister. I felt compelled to go over and talk to her, so I made my way around the back of Santa’s throne.
“Hi!” I said cheerfully, not wanting to frighten her. “I’m Mercy Howard. Are you one of Santa’s elves?”
She giggled. “A pixie, actually.”
Her big green baby-doll eyes were like bottomless pools of joy, and I thought I was going to fall into them.
“He’s really a wonderful Santa Claus, you know,” she said with a timid smile. “And I’ve seen the best – the real St. Nick himself.”
“Right, well, he is great with the kids, and he has such a kind and generous heart,” I said. “I just have to help him find a good Santa suit tomorrow, so he can look like the great Santa he is. Maybe the department store will have one.”
“No. A department store suit will not do.” She looked at me now like she was sizing me up for some reason. She looked at Junior as he warmly brought another child onto his lap and then reached into her pocket.
“Here,” she said, handing me a green business card made of translucent plastic.
I looked at the unique card, which had red ribbon printed around the border with a candy cane at the very top. It just said Cupcake at the top, and in the center of the card it said Ferdinand’s Mystical Emporium.
“So, you are…”
“Cupcake, yes. That’s me.” Her eyes diverted downward. “My parents wanted a girl.”
“Oh! So, you are…”
He looked a little upset now.
“I mean, of course I know you’re a boy. It’s a good masculine name, really.”
He smiled. “Do you really think so?”
“Well, it fits you, and you’re, you know, quite…masculine.”
“But I’m not a boy. I’m a man. I’m 35. Promise me you will take this Santa Claus there in the morning, Mercy,” he said, pointing at the card.
I just looked at his eyes again. I felt like I really wanted to go there as soon as possible.
“Promise me.” He took my hand in his oddly warm, silky hands.
“Yes! Yes, of course, Cupcake. But…how do I get there?”
“Just turn right when you see the wooden windmill right after you cross the old bridge over Paint Creek. Ask for Ferdy. Ferdy will give you the right suit.”
I knew the windmill, and there was no road there.
“But…”
“Just follow the card, Mercy. The card will get you there.”
I felt like I could trust him, as I looked at the card and rubbed my thumb across his name.
“Okay, Cupcaaa….”
He was gone! I looked up, left, right behind me. There was no sign of Cupcake. If I hadn’t still had the odd calling card in my hand, I would have thought I was going crazy.
“Ho ho ho!” Junior said to the kids. “Santa’s got to go and feed Rudolph and the other reindeer now! I’ll be back in 15 minutes! Be good for Santa, now! Ho ho ho!”
I followed him out behind the Wonderland set. Red was sound asleep on a bench in the back.
“Junior!”
“Hi, Mercy. I was getting kind of hungry, so I was just going to run the Old School booth to get a snack.”
My phone rang. It was my neighbor and best friend, Ruby Owana.
“Hi, Mercy! I’m at the Old School concession stand looking for you.”
“Great! I said. “Grab a couple Philly cheese steak empanadas for Junior and come to the big barn behind Santa’s Wonderland. Junior just has a few minutes.”
“And two beef stew ones and a ham and cheese!” Junior said loud enough for her to hear.
“I’ll be right there!”
“Thanks, Mercy. It would have been awkward for me to walk over there in my Santa outfit.”
“That’s what I want to talk to you about, Junior. Let’s go see how your dad is doing with the hay wagon.”
I told him to be at the diner early for breakfast, and then we would go and find him the prefect Santa suit.
“But we’ll eat breakfast first, right, Mercy?”
“Yes, Junior. And when we get back we’ll have your second breakfast.”
“K. But I’ve checked all the thrift shops, and I couldn’t find anything. I finally found these red pajamas at the Supersavers Mart in Ballers Ferry.”
“Well, I got a tip that we might find one at some shop by the old windmill.”
“The old windmill? There’s nothing out there but swamp and quack grass.”
I pulled on the big barn door of the old shed, but it wouldn’t budge.
Junior put his big hand on the end of the door, flicked his wrist, and it opened right up. “It slides, Mercy.”
“Thanks.” I didn’t bother telling him that I was trying to slide it.
“Dang! Dang! Dang!”
Jake was obviously frustrated and irritated when we found him inside. I heard a hammer or wrench or something banging onto some kind of metal underneath the big wagon he was trying to get ready for the hay ride.
“What’s the problem, Pops?” Junior asked his dad.
“The axel is not only broken in two, but its totally rusted right to the wheel hu
bs. I just don’t know how we’re going to get this thing moving, son.”
“No problem,” Junior told him. “It’s Christmas. We don’t need a hay ride; we need a sleigh ride. I’ll bring the torch tomorrow. We can cut those wheels off and put some runners on it.”
Jake and I looked at each other. I let his dad do the talking.
“Junior, this is Kentucky. That inch of snow we got this morning is almost gone. And, that was probably close to half the snowfall we’ll get all winter long.”
Junior didn’t flinch. “Sometimes we get more. Besides, I’m Santa, and Santa needs a sleigh. We’ve already got some horse that we can dress up like reindeer, and I’ll drive the sleigh.”
“We can’t do all that by tomorrow…”
“We’ll get it done as soon as we can. For sure, it’ll be done in time for the Parade of Lights on Christmas Eve.”
“Hello-oo!” Ruby sang as she came inside with Junior’s snack. “Look who I brought with me! Lucille was looking for you, so I brought her here for you, Mercy.”
Lucille Gildemeister was the one who organized the whole festival every year. She was a very professional and sophisticated lady.
“Oh, thank God I found you, Mercy,” she said, quite animated and, it appeared, on a mission.
“Hi, Lu…”
“Well, my daughter-in-law, Marcy, just informed me that she is going skiing in Aspen and won’t be able to manage the Parade.”
“The Parade of Li…?”
“Imagine that! So, it got me thinking, who can I get on short notice who can pull this off?”
“Who?” Oh, no…
“So, I thought Marcy – Mercy! That’s it! Mercy Howard!”
“But…”
“I know you’ll do a wonderful job, Mercy.”
Oh, there is absolutely no way…
“It’s a great opportunity for you, and the whole town is counting on a fabulous parade. I can’t really depend on anyone else. We wouldn’t want to ruin Christmas for everyone, now, would we? So, what do you say, Mercy? Will you produce the parade for me?”
Absolutely not!
“Wha…why, of course, Lucille! I’d love to! It would be an honor.”
She patted me on the shoulder. “Good girl. The participants are all set, the funding is taken care of. You just have to make sure they’re ready and in compliance with all of the rules. Then, just line them all up, and make it go! This old bucket of bolts will have to be ready to carry Santa, too,” she said, patting the side of the wagon. “I’ll have the requirements and entrant list sent to your little café in the morning.” Then she turned and left.
Candy Canes & Corpses Page 31
