BETTER WATCH OUT

by Christina Freeburn

  “What are you thinking?” The disappointment was gone, worry was in its place.

  “Just that those names are council members. Why would Jenna single them out?”

  “Where’s the sign you saw in the bookstore’s window?” He ignored my question.

  “I don’t know,” I whispered. “People were picking it up. I took it to put it in Rachel’s office. Someone knocked me out and took the sign.”

  “What?” Orville’s head jerked up. “Someone hit you and took the sign.”

  I nodded. “They snuck up behind me.”

  “This happened at One More Page?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was Cassie working there today?”

  I knew where this was going. “I’d rather she didn’t know about this.”

  “Merry, this is serious.”

  “I don’t want her to worry about me. She’s been through a lot.”

  “But she might have seen this person.”

  In every corner of One More Page was a security camera. Rachel had installed them a few years ago when she had a rash of “editors/censors” marking up sections of books they didn’t approve of or wanted to fix. There were a few instances where entire paragraphs of a racy novel were crossed out with a black pen.

  “There are security cameras at the bookstore. Let me call, Rachel. She’ll let you see the tapes.” Before he argued with me, I punched in my passcode and called Rachel.

  She answered on the third ring, sounding breathless. “Is everything all right?”

  “The naughty list was stolen,” I said. “Can you give the police the tapes from your security camera?”

  “I’m sure the police have more pressing problems. Tell Cassie not to worry about the missing sign. We can just have a nice list.”

  “Someone had put Jenna’s name on the list.”

  Rachel gasped.

  “I went to put it back in your office and someone stole the sign. Can you meet Orville at the store? He needs to review your footage.”

  “The cameras don’t work,” Rachel whispered, tears in her voice. “Money has been tight. I had to cut some expenses, and the monitoring service was one of them. The cameras are for show.”

  It was hard to keep a business afloat year-round in a small town. Our best months were October through January. After that visitor numbers trickled down and as the lack of visitors affected everyone’s bottom line, it was hard for locals to spend a lot to support stores, especially one considered “luxury” items: crafts, reading, accessories. If your businesses didn’t focus on necessities, your income took a hit during the rest of the year. One More Page had a few extra months—August to September when school started—of selling than the rest of us “luxury” businesses, but not enough that it would keep the business out of the red during the slower months without having to make some sacrifices.

  I hung up. “The cameras are for show.”

  Heaving out a sigh, Orville pushed up on his knees. His joints cracking as he stood. “I don’t appreciate you doing that, Merry. I would’ve talked to Rachel myself. You have to let me do my job.”

  He was right. That was a huge overstep. My heart went out to him. It couldn’t be easy investigating the people you knew and considered friends. Somebody in Season’s Greetings, somebody he knew, had murdered Jenna Wilcox and Orville had to dig for the truth.

  “I’m sorry. I feel like I have to do something.”

  “From here on out, I got it.”

  Ten

  “It’s Beginning to Look a lot Like Christmas” played from my bedside table. I snagged my phone and swiped my finger across the screen. The alarm stopped. Briefly, I thought of closing my eyes and getting another hour of sleep, but I had a long list of tasks to complete today, including packing for a class that I was teaching at Season’s Living, the assisted living facility where my mom resided. I didn’t want her or residents to be disappointed by being ill-prepared.

  First, I needed to complete the orders I had to mail Monday morning. Any later and there was a chance they wouldn’t arrive on time for Christmas. I fumbled for my eyeglasses, slipped them on, then snuck downstairs and brewed a cup of coffee. I moved around my house like I was Santa sneaking gifts under the tree. There was no reason Cassie should have to be up at six in the morning.

  Carrying my coffee back upstairs, I put together a game plan in my head. Shower. Dress. Complete two orders. Email Bright an update on the orders. Finish preparing for the class. As long as I stayed focus, I’d have it all done by ten before I had to leave for class.

  After making myself presentable, I settled into my office chair and got to work. The first order came together easily. The next one was testing my patience. Too big. Too small. Finally, just right. Exhaustion washed over me. It had taken me fifteen minutes to adjust the size of the font for the personalized Santa nice list I was creating for an order where the customer wanted to add “just one more name.” That one more name required me to adjust the font setting. At this rate, I wouldn’t be done until after Christmas. I had tried to get a good night’s sleep. Between Cassie checking on me every other hour and my mind conjuring up suspects, I had gotten less sleep last night than when my children were infants.

  A message notification popped up on my computer. Bright. I switched over to the window with Facebook opened on it. Usually, I didn’t have any tabs for social media open when I was working, and turned off notifications on my phone, but today I wanted to keep updated on what was being said on the town’s Facebook page. It wasn’t good to be unaware of the gossip when you stood a high chance of being part of it.

  Who was murdered?

  I blinked at it a few times, the question startling me. How did Bright know? I wouldn’t have thought a murder in a small town would reach where Bright lived. Unfortunately, murders weren’t that uncommon in the world—though before a Christmas parade in a Christmasy-named town was liable to turn a story viral.

  I moaned and plopped my head against the leather rest of my office chair. My kids would find out. While it might mean I’d get another visit, I didn’t want my children worried about me. Or thinking they had to become involved because they believed I was involved.

  If the police didn’t release it, I probably shouldn’t, I responded.

  I was hoping you’d say you didn’t know. Bright ended the message with a sad face emoji.

  Hard not to when I was in charge of the parade.

  So, it did happen during the parade. How horrible? How many people saw?

  I hovered the mouse cursor over the Google icon. Don’t look, I scolded myself. I didn’t need to fill my head with all the rumors that were going around the internet, just the ones in my home town. Before. No one saw anything. That we knew of.

  Had someone? I envisioned the parking lot of the church where the sleigh had been parked. No one had been there when I arrived. Had Norman possibly seen someone before he left? He had told the police no, but his memory wasn’t the best right now.

  Are you there? Are you okay? Merry? Concerned messages filled my screen.

  I’m fine. I just remembered something. I should call the police.

  Is someone with you? You should call your son.

  I’m fine. There’s no reason to call my son or have a babysitter. I didn’t see anyone but there was someone there who might have. And this person might not realize they know something.

  I wanted to keep my explanation as vague as possible while also reassuring Bright I was okay. I didn’t think she’d be able to contact either of my children, but I didn’t know for sure. There was a chance one of my children—Scotland—friended her on Facebook to monitor our friendship. My son wasn’t keen on the fact that I was best friends and in business with someone I only knew through social media. In the almost eight years we’ve known each other, we only talked on the phone once and have never met in person.

>   The situation sounds dangerous to me.

  It’s not. If I think something is wrong, I promise I’ll ask for help. I signed off, trying to block from my mind that I hadn’t come away unscathed. Someone had hit me in the back of the head for a sign. Who?

  I didn’t have time to ponder it. There was a phone call to make and a long list of orders to complete before I left for my class. I called the station, hoping to catch Orville before he was off-duty. The administrative assistant put me through to him.

  “What can I do for you, Merry?”

  “Last night, Norman said he hadn’t seen anyone in the parking lot or around the church. I’m worried that he might have and could be in danger. He’s been having trouble remembering things.” I relayed what happened last night.

  “He didn’t remember about the parade?”

  “No. He was confused on why all the floats were there.”

  “That is concerning. I’ll stop by Norman’s on my way home and chat with him. See if a good night’s sleep has him remembering anything. I appreciate you letting me know.”

  “You’re welcome. What should I—”

  Orville cut me off. “Do what you’re doing now. Any concerns bring them to me or another officer. Don’t be surprised if you get a call from a reporter. The best thing to do is tell them no comment or to contact the town’s public relations department.”

  “Jenna was the town’s PR person.”

  Orville drew in a deep breath. “That’s right. Tell them to call the police chief.” He hung up the phone.

  The tone of Orville’s voice changed when I reminded him of Jenna’s job. With her travel agency, it made sense for her to act as the town’s spokesperson. It was a part-time job that blended in perfectly with her business. Did it relate in some way to her murder?

  I popped onto the town’s website and hopped around the site. There wasn’t anything there that would make someone want to kill. The time of the parade, the businesses participating, emergency contact numbers, phone numbers of churches that could help with electric bills or financial help for the holidays. All the best about Season’s Greetings, not one thing about any shortcomings the town or its residents might possess. And if I didn’t want any customers taking to the internet to talk about mine, I needed to get back to work.

  I closed the window and returned to my design software. Adjusting my noise-cancelling headphones, I hit the blinking button on the Cricut. Since I had a slight headache, I was blocking out the machine noise. The mat fed through and the first project of the day was being cut. A few days ago, I had uploaded a picture of the naughty and nice lists to my Etsy page and received some orders for them. Even though the lists were the last things I wanted to create, I didn’t want to cancel them since customer service made or broke a crafting business.

  If you got a reputation of being flaky, or even worse, a scammer, you were done. Merry and Bright Handcrafted Christmas wasn’t just me. I didn’t want to disappoint Bright or push off too many orders onto her shoulders. The last few weeks she’d been picking up the slack. It was time for me to do my part.

  Pulling the vinyl from the mat, I held it up to the window, inspecting it. Perfect cuts. A shadow loomed over me. I startled, dropping the vinyl onto the floor. Ebenezer raced into the room and dragged the project under the desk.

  Cassie stood behind me, wearing my Buddy the Elf shirt and looking a little sheepish. I slipped off my headphones.

  “I hope you don’t mind I borrowed your shirt,” Cassie said. “I wanted something holiday themed to wear to work today and I don’t have anything. I knew you had a ton.”

  I heard paper—vinyl—crinkling. I hoped it was his paws and not his teeth causing the sound. Imitating a guinea pig, I lowered myself onto my hands and knees and shimmied under the desk. “That’s fine. If you need to borrow anymore, just let me know.”

  “I will. That’s why I started your wash for you. Some of your best shirts were in the hamper.”

  “That’s not for you.” I scooped up Ebenezer and carried him back to the door. I placed him in the hallway and he plopped over, looking at me with pathetic eyes. “You’re not allowed in here. That won’t work on me.”

  “I didn’t mean to scare you,” Cassie said, picking up the list of names for my customer’s naughty list and putting it on my desk. “I wanted to let you know I was leaving, and Ebenezer seemed really upset that he wasn’t with you.”

  “He just doesn’t like the fact he’s not allowed in the craft room. I try to keep this room as allergy free as possible. No fragrances. No pet dander.”

  “I’m sorry. He just looked so sad pawing at the door.”

  Ebenezer wasn’t happy that there was a part of the house closed off to him. With his short stubby legs, I had thought it would be hard for him to get upstairs. Nope, he had found a hop-jump gait that worked. The guinea pig was relentless.

  “I’ll be taking a coffee break soon.” I was going to need more than one cup to get through the day. Of course, once I went downstairs, Ebenezer would decide to play in the tunnels Paul and I made for him. If I was available and wanted some snuggles, Ebenezer had something better to do. The critter wanted my undivided attention when I was working or on the phone.

  “Do you need a ride?” I asked. Cassie had driven me home in my car. Her vehicle was still at One More Page.

  Cassie waved goodbye and bounded down the stairs. “No, my co-worker Garrett is stopping by to pick me up.”

  “Wow, Rachel must be expecting a lot of business this morning.”

  Cassie paused at the door and turned slightly to face me, her cheeks blushing a bright pink. “He’s off until this afternoon but offered to take me in this morning. He was there last night and knew I drove you home.”

  “Should I plan dinner for two?” I hoped the answer was no but made sure my voice didn’t hint at my preference. When my children first moved out, I was lonely and hated the quietness and not having anyone that needed me. After some time being alone, I was starting to like my freedom and having no one else’s schedule to consider.

  “Nope. I’m going over to Grandma’s to cook dinner.” Cassie’s expression softened. “I’ve never made dinner for us before and Grandma agreed as long as I came over to her place. She’s not up to leaving her house.”

  “That’s wonderful.” I maintained a light and airy voice even though I wondered if Helen was going to tell her granddaughter the truth about her health. It wasn’t my place to hint at anything.

  Cassie eye’s widened and she dipped her head. “You can join us if you’d like. I’m so sorry for not inviting you earlier. You’ve had me and grandma over tons of time.”

  “I have a back log of orders. The parade put me behind schedule, and I’ve been looking forward to a quiet evening at home. I have some chili in the freezer I’ll thaw out and put some Christmas music on in the background.”

  “If you’re sure…” Cassie trailed off. There was a beep.

  “Your ride is here. You should get going.” I turned back around, giving my attention to the computer screen. If Cassie pressed enough, I’d relent, and if Helen was planning on telling her granddaughter the truth about her health, I didn’t want my presence to alter any plans. I fussed with the image on screen even though I had already cut out the design. Which was on the floor and might be torn thanks to Ebenezer. Quickly, I undid the changes.

  Cassie clomped down the stairs, smoothing down her hair. There was a bounce to her step.

  Someone should be checking up on the guy Cassie was interested in. I needed to ask Rachel some questions about him. All I knew was that he was a little flaky. He had showed up for work late yesterday, making Rachel late getting to the parade. Once again, I was focusing so much on my issues, I was ignoring Cassie. I jumped from my chair and ran down the stairs.

  “Cassie…” The front door closed. Too late. I opened the door and step
ped onto the porch. The car, a gray well-kept sedan, was almost at the corner. Drat. I couldn’t see the driver. I stopped myself from racing outside and waving down the car. That was a little too dramatic. Besides what would be my excuse for flagging them down? Changed my mind about dinner? Wanted to appraise the guy she liked?

  Someone had to look out for Cassie. The only one Cassie had was me. It was my duty to find out about this guy and make sure his intentions toward her were pure. You don’t even know if he likes her. He might just be being neighborly.

  That was true. Was it safe to err on the side of caution? I had wanted to know about the guys my daughter Raleigh had been interested in, and the girls Scotland dated, wasn’t it normal to wonder about the boy that caught Cassie’s eye? Or had my belief in seeing the good in everyone taken a hit? The world had shown me a little of its dark side when Samuel was murdered and now it lurked in my mind.

  I didn’t want to dwell on it but could no longer pretend it didn’t exist. I’d talk to Rachel and if she didn’t know much about Garrett, I’d see if Scotland could dig anything up on him, unless that would get my son into trouble at the police department. The last thing I’d ever want was to create a problem for my children.

  The doorbell rang two times. One after the other.

  “I’m coming.” I hoped the unexpected visitor didn’t mind a Christmas tree sweater that lit up. Not that I planned on pushing the button to get the lights twinkling. The flashing lights bothered me after a bit. I only turned them on when I either wanted to entertain a child or annoy an adult.

  I opened the door. A furious Sarah Heath marched into my house. Her pale beige, almost colorless, trench coat flapped open around her calves, revealing her calf-length brown skirt. Her dark hair was twisted into a knot and dangled in a blob near her neck. The heels of her beige pumps click-clacked on the hardwood floors as she stomped into my living room. She glanced around, a distasteful look crossing her face as her gaze landed on Ebenezer.

  He whistled at her, angry and drawn out. He didn’t like the woman.