A Crime for Christmas

by Carolyn Keene

  —Your Secret Santa

  “I like it!” Joe exclaimed after he read the note I’d written on the notepad, using my left hand to disguise my handwriting. “We flip the script on the anonymous note-leaver who paid off Clark and leave them an anonymous note instead.”

  “We leave this inside the reading-room secret passage somewhere they can’t miss it, and then you hide inside the maze to get an ID on whoever shows up,” I said, filling him in on my plan.

  “And then I jump out, tie them up, and drag them back to the lodge!” Joe offered excitedly.

  “No!” I said quickly. “We just want them to reveal themselves! All you need to do is hide and identify them. Whoever is doing this is mondo dangerous, and you won’t have any backup. The people who chased me earlier today weren’t shy about using guns.”

  “Meaning they could just try to silence me with lead instead of gold,” Joe said, catching on.

  “We’ll let them think you’re a no-show, and then you can sneak back out through a different gate after they leave,” I said.

  “Fine, no heroic subduing of the bad guy,” he sulked.

  “If they do spot you, you can slip away into the maze, where it will be hard for them to follow without getting lost themselves,” I said.

  “But how do I keep from getting lost in the maze?” asked Joe.

  “Easy,” I said, looking out over the maze below. Even with the steady snowfall, the holiday lights strung over the tops of the hedges illuminated the whole pattern clearly. “We map out all the turns to get you just within view of the directions I left on the note—if I’m right, it should be the perfect hiding spot for you to spy on them without being seen. I can also use my binoculars to guide you over the radio. I may not be able to see you on the ground once you’re inside the hedges, but if you do get lost, you can turn on the blinker on your LED light, and I should be able to spot you from above that way.”

  “How do we know they’ll even show?” Joe asked. “They may not use the secret passage again until later.”

  “We don’t,” I said. “It’s a gamble. But do you have anything better to do tonight?”

  “Good point,” he conceded. “Let’s do this!”

  “There’s one call I have to make first,” I said, thinking about Bess and the can of pepper spray she always carries for self-defense. Someone had already tried to take me out once that day, and alone in my room with my cast on, I really was a Sitting Drew. If anyone tried to get in, I wanted to be prepared. I might not have access to store-bought cans of chemical Mace like Bess kept in her purse, but I did know someone with plenty of organic ammunition we could use to concoct our own variation.

  “Hey, Chef,” I said when she answered her cell phone. “I need a quick favor.”

  It didn’t take long for Chef K to whip me up a cup full of habanero powder, and for Joe to rig it over my suite door with fishing line running across the living room to my wheelchair. If anyone tried breaking in through the door while Joe was on his mission, all I’d have to do was give it a yank and they’d get a face full of the same powerful powdered pepper that caused all that mayhem at the opening night banquet.

  “There’s a little bit left over in the coffee cup on the buffet table by the window,” Joe said. “Don’t mistake it for coffee and take a gulp.”

  “Good advice,” I agreed, handing him the two-way radio I’d had Chef K send up with the hot pepper.

  Joe left our bait note on the floor of the secret passage, weighted down by an electric candle so whoever entered the passage wouldn’t miss it. He had navigated his way through the maze to the hiding spot and was lying in wait by ten forty-five p.m., just in case the perp decided to show up early and surprise him.

  All I could do now was watch through my binoculars and wait. The waiting was the hardest part. It got even harder as the snow picked up—and it picked up fast! The hours of heavy, steady snow had suddenly turned into a full-on blizzard! Wind howled down off the mountain, billowing the snow off the ground in great clouds.

  Joe would hopefully be sheltered from the worst of the wind by the maze’s hedges, but the storm was quickly nearing whiteout conditions. Pretty soon I’d be helpless to guide him through the maze if he needed me to.

  There was a flash of light off in the distance, followed by the unmistakable crack of thunder. This wasn’t just any old snowstorm! I’d heard about “thundersnow” before, but it’s such a rare meteorological event, I’d never actually seen it. It would have been really cool if it weren’t happening right in the middle of our operation!

  There was another flash of lightning, this one close enough that I could see the bolt pierce through the storm. The Grand Sky Lodge went dark before the sound of the thunderclap reached us. The only light in my suite now came from the electric fireplace. Outside, dim solar-powered emergency lights went on around the grounds, but the decorative holiday lights were entirely dark—including the ones over the maze. Between the power outage and the blizzard, Joe would be left practically in the dark!

  I’m sure he’s fine, I told myself. If he thinks he’s in trouble, he’ll turn on his flashlight and I can try to guide him that way.

  I hadn’t known Joe very long, but I got the impression he’d see hiding out in a thundersnow blizzard, waiting for a bad guy, as more of an adventure than a predicament.

  Still, the chances of the perp venturing out in this storm were slim, and Joe’s safety came first. If the storm got any worse, it would be hard for him to retrace his steps even with the directions.

  It was time to call Joe in.

  I had just picked up my walkie-talkie when I glimpsed more lights in the distance beyond the maze. Only these were coming from the ground, not the sky, and they seemed to be getting closer.

  I lifted the binoculars and struggled to adjust the focus to see through the storm. The lights cutting through the snow definitely weren’t lightning. They were headlights from two small vehicles. I might not have recognized what they were if I hadn’t seen the lights just like them cut through the mist on the horse trail earlier that day.

  Snowmobiles.

  My two sleigh-ride saboteurs were back, and they were headed straight for Joe.

  The headlights came to a stop down the hill from the maze and shut off, turning my binoculars’ field of vision dark. But it was only dark for a moment. A jagged bolt of lightning pierced the sky, illuminating the silhouettes of two hulking figures carrying chain saws. A second later it was dark again.

  I dropped the binoculars and grabbed the walkie-talkie.

  “It’s an ambush, Joe!” I whispered urgently into the walkie-talkie. “They’re going to cut through the maze with chain saws! Get out of there now!”

  Only there was no answer. Not even static this time. Just awful silence. My walkie-talkie battery wasn’t working!

  I pulled out my cell phone and frantically opened my call log to find Joe’s number. I was about to press it when I saw the “No Service” icon on the top of the screen. The storm must have knocked out the cell towers along with the power.

  My heart nearly beat out of my chest as I struggled to see anything through the curtain of snow. Our trap had been turned around on us and there was nothing I could do.

  No, not nothing, I told myself.

  I struggled out of my chair, ignoring the pain in my ankle as I stood up and unlocked the window. There was a loud creak as I yanked it open and yelled into the raging blizzard, hoping my voice would reach the maze over the storm.

  “Run, Joe!” I screamed, my voice disappearing into the howling wind and snow.

  Snow billowed in through the open window, causing me to shiver, but there was another draft of cool air I didn’t expect, and this one was coming from behind me.

  It suddenly occurred to me that the creaking I’d heard a moment before hadn’t come from the window opening at all.

  “Shut up and sit back down,” a strangely familiar angry voice snarled behind me.

  I turned around slo
wly. I wasn’t alone in the suite anymore. A person in a ski mask stood in front of an open secret door in my room. The door had been concealed by the breakfast nook. So much for my precautions! That wasn’t my only surprise, though.

  The person had a shiny new ax gripped tightly in their fist.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  The Grinch

  SNOW BLEW IN THROUGH THE open window, landing at my feet to remind me that Joe was still outside with chain-saw-wielding attackers bearing down on him. It was a double ambush!

  “I said sit down,” the masked intruder snarled again, and slammed the ax into the breakfast nook table.

  “I’m only sitting down because I’m not used to standing and my ankle hurts,” I said as I got into the wheelchair again. I wasn’t going to give the intruder the satisfaction of thinking they could bully me.

  “Get over here,” he or she growled back through clenched teeth.

  Where did I know that voice from? It was muffled by the face mask, making it harder to discern, but that made me realize it had also been muffled when I’d heard it before. Only last time it hadn’t been by fabric. It had been by static. It was the same voice I’d heard screaming at someone over the radio when Bradley’s channels got crossed on the slopes after I broke my leg!

  Not that the revelation did me much good. It had sounded familiar that time too, and I hadn’t been able to place it then, either. Figuring out where I knew the voice from didn’t have me any closer to knowing who it belonged to.

  If I could keep them talking, I might be able to figure it out.

  “I think I’d rather stay where I am, thanks,” I said, trying not to let the fear show in my voice.

  The masked perp let out a cruel laugh and pulled the ax from the table. “Don’t make me come get you.”

  I gulped. There was an even more pressing reason to keep them talking than figuring out their identity: staying alive!

  I’d taken precautions against someone trying to get at me while Joe was outside, but the intruder’s surprise secret door had rendered those precautions useless. I glanced from the powder-filled coffee cup a few feet out of reach on the buffet table over to the suite door, where Joe had rigged the hot pepper trap. I had two last lines of defense; one of them was out of reach and the other was out of range. If I could somehow get the intruder to move under the door, I could pull the fishing line to unleash the trap.

  “In case you hadn’t noticed, my chair isn’t going to fit through that passage,” I pointed out.

  The intruder grunted. Apparently they hadn’t thought about that.

  “We could just go out the door instead,” I suggested, and began wheeling myself over, hoping they’d at least move toward the door to cut me off.

  They didn’t.

  “Stop!” the person bellowed, slamming the ax down again with so much force it cleaved a chunk of wood from the table.

  I stopped.

  “You’ll walk,” they growled.

  “Not gonna happen,” I replied.

  “Then I’ll drag you,” they threatened. “Your choice.”

  I wanted to kick myself as I looked at the suite’s doorknob, where the tiny sleigh bells Jackie had given me the day I broke my leg, so we could be twinsies, hung uselessly. I’d put them there to alert me if anyone tried to get in, but they didn’t do much good against a burglar who didn’t bother with doors—at least not ones you could see.

  I’d been pretty proud of myself for figuring out that the lodge’s built-in shelves hid concealed doors, but I’d made the mistake of assuming that was how the perp had snuck into Grant’s suite and everywhere else. I hadn’t been thinking about the other original built-in furniture the lodge also had. Like the benches and breakfast nooks. Too bad I hadn’t hung one of Jackie’s bells from there instead.

  “That’s it!” I blurted aloud, realizing that there was another place Jackie’s bells had turned up that was equally unexpected. The ones little Kelly had found on the rolling staircase in the reading room. There was no way someone with a broken foot could have dropped them there.

  “Stop jabbering, and get moving!” the intruder shouted. Only this time, it dawned on me why I hadn’t been able to place the voice.

  The person’s voice was normally so chipper and cheery, it had seemed impossible to imagine it as anything else. The venom coming from the bad guy in front of me was totally out of character with the super-happy, jingly woman with the clumsy limp I thought I knew.

  “The bells were a nice touch, Jackie,” I said. “No one would ever suspect someone who limped around in a walking boot and jingled everywhere they went of sneaking all over the lodge, breaking into people’s rooms and committing sabotage. It gave you the perfect alibi.”

  “It was pretty brilliant, wasn’t it?” Jackie commented as she pulled off the ski mask, revealing the fresh stitches in her forehead. “It’s about time you figured it out. It was getting stuffy under that thing and making my stitches itch.”

  “Your foot wasn’t really hurt, was it?” I asked.

  “I think I would have made a decent actress, don’t you?” she replied, giving the wall an enthusiastic kick with her supposedly broken foot. “They don’t call me Jackie-of-All-Trades for nothin’.”

  “Pretending to be a nice person is a pretty rotten talent, if you ask me,” I spat. I felt totally betrayed. I had genuinely liked Jackie and had been touched by how much she seemed to care about me getting enough rest—when in reality she was the one responsible for my broken leg the whole time.

  “I am a nice person,” she insisted. “As long as you don’t mess with me. And you’ve turned into a royal bee in my bonnet. So let’s get going before you get me really peeved.”

  “There’s no way I’m just walking into that passage with you,” I stated.

  “It’s a lot easier than the alternative,” she said, tapping the ax against the table. “I might actually consider paying you off like your little note said if I had enough gold to spare and thought you’d actually take it.”

  “So Mrs. Bosley’s gold rush treasure is real?” I asked, momentarily forgetting about my dire predicament.

  “It’s not Mrs. Bosley’s,” Jackie snapped. “She may have told everyone the legend, but I’m the one who found the hidden passages and the map.”

  “There’s a map?” I asked. Even with Jackie threatening me with an ax, it was hard not to get excited about the legend being real.

  “Part of one,” she revealed. “I found it on a torn piece of parchment in one of the passages. I’ve only uncovered a couple of small pouches with a few nuggets so far, but I’m close to the mother lode, I know it! If you want to help me find the rest, I’d be happy to cut you in for a small percentage.”

  My brain was racing. Gold really was the motive, but I still had a million questions.

  “What does your revenge campaign against Chef K have to do with the gold?” I asked, ignoring Jackie’s attempt to bribe me. “She doesn’t know anything about the treasure and couldn’t care less. She thinks it’s a ridiculous fairy tale. All she wants is to be left alone to cook.”

  “Oh, it’s not revenge,” Jackie said matter-of-factly. “She’s just in my way. I tried to be nice. I even took her one of my famous fruitcakes as a welcome present when she first got here, but she kicked me right out of the restaurant, fruitcake and all!”

  “You sabotaged the trail that broke my leg, spiked a banquet hall full of people with hot pepper, nearly lit the restaurant on fire with the menorah stunt, stunk up the entire lodge with rotten cabbage, set out animal traps, tried to send Chef K off a cliff, and framed Marni for it all because she turned down your fruitcake?!” I asked indignantly. “Someone’s a little sensitive about their baking.”

  “I didn’t do it because of the fruitcake, silly,” Jackie said, her mood lightening. “She banned everyone from the restaurant. According to my map, there’s a secret tunnel leading to an old gold mine behind the wall of the room the contractor uncovered during the renov
ation. If I’m not allowed near the kitchen, I can’t get to the treasure.”

  “So there is another secret passage hidden behind the new pantry shelves Chef K put up!” I exclaimed. My hunch about the uncovered chamber hiding other secrets was right. “That’s where you think the treasure is?”

  Jackie just smiled. “Being sugary sweet usually opens all kinds of doors for me, but not that one. It’s her own fault, really. Miss Fancy-Pants Chef is just too grumpy for her own good. I’ve been working here my whole life and she strolls in from the city one day and thinks she can hog the place all to herself. The nerve!”

  “So you decided to take her out?” I surmised.

  “You make it sound so sinister, dear,” Jackie said. “But it sure would make getting into that room a lot easier if she wasn’t around anymore. I had hoped to just pester her into leaving, but she’s near as stubborn as you are! I’m afraid more drastic measures were necessary.”

  A lot of the edge had left Jackie’s voice and she sounded almost chipper again. She actually seemed to be enjoying talking about her crimes, which wasn’t too surprising, considering how much of a self-proclaimed talker she was. That worked for me. The longer I could keep her talking, the more time I bought myself.

  “Why target Representative Alexander?” I asked. “Is there a connection between the gold and the pipeline?”

  “The pipeline?” she replied. “Oh, how cute! The detective is confused! I’d be as happy as anyone else here if the pipeline took a hike, but I don’t have anything to do with all that.”

  “Then what were you looking for in his room?” I asked.

  “The same thing I was looking for in all the rooms,” she said. “More secret doors with hidden passages that might give me another way into the tunnel behind the chef’s pantry. Although I have to admit, it is kind of fun snooping into other people’s secrets along the way. But I’ve searched the dickens out of the entire lodge and can’t seem to find another way into the tunnel anywhere.”