Case of the Holiday Hijinks

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by Jeffrey M. Poole




  Case of the

  Holiday Hijinks

  By

  J.M. Poole

  www.AuthorJMPoole.com

  Smashwords Edition License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.

  This book is a work of fiction. All characters and locations appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or real locations, is purely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America

  For a complete list of titles available by Jeffrey M. Poole, including the best-selling fantasy series Bakkian Chronicles and Tales of Lentari, and the cozy mystery series Corgi Case Files, please click here!

  Case of the

  Holiday Hijinks

  By

  J.M. Poole

  Table of Contents

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  TEN

  ELEVEN

  AUTHOR’S NOTE

  Acknowledgments

  I’m very thankful to get this book in the hands of the readers before Christmas. I tried so very hard to get Case of the Fleet-Footed Mummy out by Halloween but, sadly, it didn’t happen. This time, I made it!

  There are several people that made this book possible. First off, my wife, Giliane. She puts up with my incessant babbling and questions about Pomme Valley all the time. We even have some serious disagreements with how the town is run, but thankfully, we’re able to work them out. 

  Once more I need to thank the members of my Posse. You guys & gals are the best support team any author could hope for! Thank you very much for all your work!

  Once more, my hat is off to Felipe de Barros, artist extraordinaire. This is the second cover he’s done for me and I’d have to say that I couldn’t be more pleased. Well done, Felipe!

  Last – but certainly not the least – I want to thank you, the reader, for giving my book a shot when there are so many hundreds of thousands to choose from.

  I hope you enjoy the story! Happy reading!

  J.

  For Giliane –

  I am the world’s luckiest guy to have you by my side! Here’s to many more years together!

  ONE

  “I‘m really not too comfortable with any of this.”

  “Zack, relax. She’ll never know.”

  “But it feels like I’m trying to hide this from her.”

  “You are trying to hide this from her. Trust me, what Jillian doesn’t know cannot hurt her. I’m certainly not going to tell her. Are you?”

  It felt like I had a full-blown fever raging through my system. My face felt like it was on fire. What if someone saw the two of us in here? Let’s face it. Jillian seems to know every single person in Pomme Valley. What if someone lets it slip to her that I was having lunch with her best friend? What would people say? Forget that. What would Jillian say?

  “Would you relax?” Hannah teased. “You’d think that… wow. Why is your face so red? Are you feeling okay?”

  “I’m just nervous,” I admitted.

  “Why? Because we’re deliberately doing this behind Jillian’s back?”

  I nodded, “That about sums it up.”

  “Look, all I’m trying to do is help you pick out the perfect Christmas present for Jillian. I know her better than you and I’ve known her a lot longer.”

  “I know that, but it still feels wrong. I’m just not a big fan of sneaking around.”

  “You’re a good man, Zack,” Hannah told me, giving me a wistful smile. “You and Jillian are perfect for each other. I am so happy for the two of you.”

  I wasn’t too sure what to say to that. If memory serves, Hannah was the friend of Jillian’s who was in an abusive relationship but refused to leave her husband. Maybe she was trying to maintain the appearance of a normal family because she was ashamed? I don’t know. I do know that Jillian has tried – numerous times – to help Hannah out should she ever be willing to leave Dylan, her husband.

  “Neither of us want to take things too fast,” I reminded her as I side-stepped around any reference to anyone being in a happy relationship.

  “And that’s commendable,” Hannah said. “Since this is the first Christmas that you two will be spending together, your first gift for her should be a meaningful one.”

  “Okay. So, what do I get her? What does she like?”

  Hannah sat back in her chair. She was silent as she considered the question. While she was contemplating her reply, I decided to get a refill on my soda. We were having lunch at Wired Coffee & Café, a favorite hangout for coffee-addicts everywhere. The only reason I liked coming here was sitting in the corner. The tall, shiny machine with the 19” LCD display beckoned enticingly as I approached. It was a soda machine, but the kind where you get to choose what base soda you want and then add customized flavorings to it. For the record, I just tried adding raspberry to my Coke Zero. I’ve liked practically every combination that I have tried, and since I like raspberries, I figured the two would be a good mix.

  Wrong.

  So now I’ve chosen an orange/vanilla mix to add to my soda. I’ve always been a fan of orange creamsicles. One sip had me smiling. Oh, yeah. I’ll have to remember that one. I headed back to the table and noticed Hannah was watching me approach. I truly did feel sorry for her. Jillian had mentioned that Hannah spent so little time at her home that she might as well have slept at her store. And, in case you didn’t know, Hannah Bloom owned and operated Pomme Valley’s one and only florist shop, The Apple Blossom. I could only wonder what type of abuse Hannah had been forced to take. Hopefully that dick of a husband wasn’t physically abusing her. Jillian has never said and I’ve never asked. Maybe I should have.

  “I just wish that they’d release a home version of that soda machine,” I mused as I sat back down in the booth. “That thing is awesome. I’d buy one without a second’s notice.”

  Hannah smiled at me, “What flavor did you get?”

  “Umm, I guess you could call it ‘orangesicle Coke Zero’.”

  “Orangesicle soda? I was getting ready to make a face, but it actually sounds kinda good. Not the Coke Zero part, but an actual soda without the fake sugar.”

  I grinned, “You sound like Jillian.”

  “So what would you like to know about her?” Hannah asked, taking a sip from her iced tea.

  “What does she like?” I asked. “What does she hate?”

  Hannah sat back in her chair and studied me. She looked at the notebook that I had brought with me. She stifled a giggle.

  “You really are a writer, aren’t you?”

  I shrugged, “Yep. Don’t mind me. I’m going to be taking some extensive notes here and then lock ‘em in my safe so I won’t ever lose them.”

  Hannah laughed, “Smart man, Zack. Okay, let’s see. How much do you know about her?”

  “Only what she’s told me. She was married once but lost her husband to cancer.”

  “Michael. Yes, that was rough on her. It’s taken her a long time to heal, Zack. Don’t even think about breaking her heart.”

  “I wasn’t planning on it,” I assured her.

  “Jillian has lived in Pomme Valley all her life,” Hannah continued. “She�
�s an only child. She’s one of those people that knew from an early age that this is the town she wanted to call home. I’ve never heard her express any desire to live anyplace else.”

  I nodded, “I knew she grew up here. I always figured she stayed put due to family and friends.”

  “That’s only part of the picture,” Hannah told me. “Look, I’m telling you this so that you’ll understand what the concept of home means to Jillian. This is where she’s happy. This is where she belongs.”

  I nodded. Hannah pointed at my notebook.

  “It’s at this point you’ll want to start taking some notes. Are you ready?”

  I flipped open my notebook, took out my favorite mechanical pencil, and nodded my readiness. Hannah stared at my open notebook for a few moments. I heard her clear her throat, so I looked up and gave her an expectant look.

  “What type of books do you write?” she suddenly asked.

  I’m sure the color drained right out of my face. I had yet to confide in anyone about what I write, which, by the way, were romance novels of the steamier variety. Not smut, but serious romance stories. I hadn’t even told Jillian. That day will come. I spent years living in Arizona without a single person knowing what genre I wrote in. I’d just as soon keep it that way, so I was going to have to be careful not to let anything slip.

  “Ummm, I never really mentioned it. Why do you ask?”

  Hannah smiled at me the way a cat would smile at a canary. My throat suddenly felt like it was on fire. I didn’t like that face. She was acting like she knew something. I hastily gulped down my soda. I’m also sure my face was as red as a lobster.

  “Because I want to see how long it’ll take you to admit that you’re ‘Chastity Wadsworth’.”

  My soda spewed everywhere. Thank goodness I wasn’t facing Hannah at the time or else she’d be covered with sticky soda pop. Bystanders turned to regard me curiously.

  “Well, that confirms that,” Hannah said, between giggles. “I knew it, Zack. I just knew that you were Chastity Wadsworth.”

  “Would you stop saying that out loud?” I gasped. “How the hell did you figure it out? Please tell me that you haven’t told anyone else.”

  “Your secret is safe with me, Ms. Wadsworth,” Hannah giggled.

  It pleased me to see that she was blushing just as much as I was. I pulled several napkins out of the dispenser and tried to mop up the mess I had made. Leave it to me to have a huge mouthful of soda when someone determines my romance writer pseudonym and then confronts me with it.

  “How did you put it together?” I asked, dumping a handful of the sodden napkins into the trash.

  Hannah waited until I was back at the table.

  “I’m a huge fan of your books,” Hannah told me as she leaned forward. “I’ve read everything that you’ve published and had wondered what had happened to you when you didn’t publish anything for a few months late last year. I figured out that’s when your wife died, am I right?”

  I sighed, “You’re right.”

  “Then you started writing again, only it wasn’t the same. I could tell that the fire that you had, the passion that drove you, well, it was missing from your books.”

  “My critics called it my ‘unique edge’,” I told Hannah. “I can’t write if I’m not happy. And in Phoenix, looking around my old house, and expecting to see Samantha come walking around the corner at any time, it hurt. I couldn’t write there. I needed a change of scenery.”

  “And that’s when you moved here!” Hannah finished for me. “That’s when you started writing again! I could tell you had become happy. Your books reflected that.”

  “I am happy here,” I admitted, giving her a sheepish grin as I did. “It’s strange. I own two dogs, an award-winning winery, and have started dating when I thought I’d never love again. Never say ‘never’, Hannah.”

  “If I bring you some books, would you sign them for me?”

  I felt the flush creeping back up my neck.

  “I will if you keep my identity secret. Don’t tell anyone, not even Jillian.”

  “You haven’t told Jillian that you’re a romance writer?” Hannah asked, clearly surprised.

  I shook my head, “No. Not yet. I will, don’t get me wrong, just not yet.”

  “I can’t believe that she hasn’t asked what kinds of books you write,” Hannah commented.

  “She has, on a couple of occasions,” I admitted. “Thankfully something else always comes up and the subject is changed. I will say, though, that I’m running out of ways to deflect the question.”

  “And if she’s not only heard of your books but read them, too, what then?” Hannah asked.

  “Then I’m sure we’ll both get a good laugh out of it,” I answered. “Now, enough about me. Back to Jillian.”

  “Right. Now, what was I saying about her?”

  “You mentioned that she has lived here her entire life and, from the sounds of things, will never want to move away. I’m just not sure how that is supposed to help me pick out a gift. What, should I go down to the local cemetery and pick out a nice plot to give her? That’s kinda morbid, don’t you think?”

  It was Hannah’s turn to choke on her drink. She slapped a hand over her mouth but it wasn’t in time to prevent iced tea from dribbling down her face. I grinned and pulled a few more napkins from the dispenser. I also noticed that the dispenser was close to running out. I handed her a few and tried to keep the smile off my face. Thankfully Hannah returned the smile.

  “I like you, Zack. You have a terrific sense of humor. I’ve sure made a mess, haven’t I?”

  “Please,” I scoffed. “You didn’t even make it off the table. Mine made it all the way to the next table over.”

  “Continuing on,” Hannah said, wiping her hands and her face with the brown napkin, “after Michael died Jillian was able to purchase one of PV’s historic houses, the one that she’s had her eye on since she was a little girl.”

  “She’s told me this,” I said. “She purchased Carnation Cottage. It’s a nice house. I’m sure that place had one helluva price tag.”

  “Michael was very wealthy, not to mention that he had taken out a large insurance policy. He was a lot like you, Zack. He was caring. He never wanted Jillian to have to worry about anything in the event that something happened to him.”

  “Cancer,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s a shitty way to go.”

  “The worst,” Hannah agreed. “When Michael passed Jillian became determined to help people with all the new-found wealth she had acquired. She’s donated to the hospital, renovated much of the high school, and…”

  “I’m surprised that they haven’t named anything after her,” I interrupted. “If she’s given that much to the hospital, or the school, don’t they customarily rename something as a way of saying thanks?”

  “Oh, they wanted to,” Hannah said, giving me a smile. “The hospital wanted to rename their entire west wing after her. The high school wanted to change the name of its auditorium. To say that Jillian was less than enthused would’ve been an understatement. She forbade anyone from plastering her name onto anything.”

  “I wonder why,” I mused to myself.

  “She’s a fairly private person. She likes to hang out, be with friends, and be with you,” Hannah told me, “but she doesn’t like the attention.”

  “What else does she like?” I asked as I went back to my notebook.

  “Lasagna.”

  I started scribbling, “Who doesn’t?”

  “Vegetable lasagna.”

  “Oh. Ugh. She doesn’t like the traditional meat variety?”

  “Oh, that too, but her favorite is spinach lasagna.”

  My stomach churned at the thought. My parents had made a spinach lasagna for dinner one night when I was little. My stomach recoiled then just as much as it was doing now. Spinach didn’t belong in pasta. I know some of you people enjoy it, but I wasn’t one of them.

  “She loves Crystal Rose champagne.�


  I groaned again.

  “Have you heard of it?” Hannah asked, surprised.

  “Champagne? Of course. Can’t stand the stuff.”

  “No, I’m sorry, not just any brand of champagne but Crystal Rose. Have you heard of it?”

  “No. Is that bad?”

  “It’s four hundred a bottle.”

  “For a damn bottle of bubbly? Who in their right mind would shell out that much money for a lousy bottle of…?”

  “Zack?” Hannah interrupted, stopping me mid-rant.

  “What?”

  “It’s Jillian’s fa-vo-rite,” she slowly repeated. “She loves it.”

  “Oh. Crap. It figures. Is it sold here in town?”

  Hannah shook her head, “No. You have to purchase it online. Look on the bright side. It comes with free shipping.”

  “For four hundred a bottle it had better be drop shipped here by private helicopter.”

  “Continuing on,” Hannah said, suppressing a smile, “she loves chai tea drinks, made with…”

  “Soy,” I interrupted, recalling the horrible drink that I had mistakenly bought a few months ago when Jillian and I had first stopped off to get a drink together. I shuddered.

  “I’m not doing too well, am I?” Hannah asked as she studied my face.

  “It’s not helping so far. Keep going. There’s gotta be something in there that I can get her.”

  “Her favorite flower is the carnation.”

  I nodded. I already knew this. In fact, I even knew which color was her favorite.

 

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