We Woof You a Deadly Christmas

by Laura Quinn

  “Excusez-moi,” Lana said, gliding toward the trio. “I couldn’t help but overhear the news. Tres rude of Moi, I know, but it sounds like a thrillisimo.”

  Pushing past his wife, Mr. Prescott wobbled to his elegant customer’s side and raised her hand to his lips. “I can’t imagine that you would possess anything remotely ugly.”

  “You’d be surprised what may lurk in my closet,” Lana teased. “I’ll be happy to spread the word in my circle. I know how important it is to support fundraisers. The sooner, the better, naturellement.”

  “All the details are on our website,” Delilah said, handing a business card to Lana. “Clarissa inspired…”

  “Yes, we are inspired to help the needy,” Donald interrupted. “I only hope that my little event will raise plenty of funds. Take my personal card. You’ll be given VIP status, of course.”

  Claire snuck out, dashing back to her own shop. Carrie was finishing setting up the hot cocoa bar upstairs, complete with marshmallows, whipped cream, peppermint sticks, and holiday sprinkles. Her boyfriend, Kyle Beeacham, set up the coffee urns, filled with Coffee and Tea, Naturally's custom festive blend in regular and decaffeinated versions. Alongside, he set up squeeze bottles filled with his famous honey. Barbara set up lukewarm carob cocoa for the dogs on a separate table.

  While her staff enjoyed a sweet break with their visitors, Claire reenacted the scene from next door. She ended by mimicking the flourish with which Mr. Prescott presented his card, nearly hitting Lana in the face.

  “So, no issues with lingering smells?” Barbara asked.

  “Not a whiff, per his highness,” Claire confirmed.

  “He complained about the mulled cider party I had last week, saying the cinnamon overpowered his customers. Like he ever has any,” Carrie said. “Until today, at least. I hear that’s your doing.”

  “I may have helped a little, for his wife’s sake,” Claire said. She stepped aside to take Lana’s call.

  The socialite was laughing so hard, she was practically snorting, a long way from her polished demeanor. “What a riot! He was tripping all over himself telling me about his good works and how important it is to work with local businesses to support the community. My Italian hosts would say he is il buffone!”

  “Just a minute, I think I’m going to be sick.”

  “He even offered to repair my necklace at a substantial discount, which I politely declined. I do feel badly about making those other customers wait, but it was for such an important cause.”

  “You deserve a humanitarian award for saving me from yet another complaint to the landlord, this one with proof from the fire department. My presence alone seems to put him in a lather.”

  “That was evident,” the socialite observed. “I’m quite accustomed to les bouffones, having to deal with Bunny and the like.”

  “Well, I better hop like a bunny to get a special order done for my favorite customer. Thank you again, Lana. You really came through for me.”

  “Then that cancels one of the million times you’ve come through for me. So, get baking. I expect perfezione for Goldie and her friends, don’t forget.”

  “Absolument!”

  “Ciao!”

  The Special Heart Pets van pulled up to the front door and Zac carried in the pamphlets, beds, bowls, and equipment while the harried coordinator brought in three dogs. The paw-shaped balloons plumped up as soon as they came in from the single-digit temperature.

  “Where is everyone?” Bernie asked.

  “I was going to ask you the same thing,” Claire said, taking charge of three of the festively dressed dogs.

  “Diane is sick with the flu and Joy’s waiting to enter her grandmother’s brooch in that contest next door.”

  “That’s where all our customers are. Don’t worry, we’ll be swamped soon enough. I heard they’re assigning times now; I told them to do that from the beginning.”

  Zac set up the portable pen upstairs while Baron visited with his new friends. Bernie hung a laminated card on each pen, outlining the special medical needs for each. He set another card next to the donation jar, which outlined the shelter’s daily expenses. Although several local veterinarians donated their services, medicines and medical equipment drained donated funds quickly.

  Just as the banners and balloons were strung across the banister, Bernie’s wife arrived. Joy changed from her galoshes into her paw-print-decorated pumps after joining her husband upstairs.

  “I have to go back at three o’clock. In the meantime, I may as well wear this.” Joy pinned on Santa and his reindeer team, each with different colored crystal antlers.

  “How’s it going over there?” Claire asked. She put on Baron’s candy-striped leash and opened the upstairs gate.

  “Pandemonium,” Joy said. “People are still pulling out time slips from the basket, but I think they should be heading over here soon.”

  As if on cue, the front door began jingling as customers and the curious streamed into the dog bakery. Claire greeted the incomers with Baron, directing them upstairs to warm up with a hot beverage. As the duo walked past the freezer, Baron sat down and looked forlornly at the door.

  “I’m sorry, I completely forgot to give you Auntie Lana’s treat. Peanut butter, bacon or carob chip?” He barked at the last option and settled himself in his kitchen bed to enjoy the ice cream cup.

  “Last Christmas” sounded from the phone in Claire’s apron pocket. Before she could say hello, Emma’s voice spilled out.

  “I saw your text and I know you need my help tonight, but I have cheerleading practice. We weren’t supposed to, but Coach Bella said we had to. If you ask me, she has a serious crush on Coach Bishop. He’s making the team practice extra nights because of the finals. NHHS hasn’t gone to state in like forever, so it’s really a big deal. Now Harry and I have to go to the later show to see the new movie with Chris Hemsworth. He is so hot! You’ll have to meet him. Harry, that is. He’s hot too. Actually, you did see him, in a photo at least. Remember I showed the homecoming album to you? He was my date, my very own Prince Harry. He’s been working out, so he looks even buffer now. Well, anyway, if you really need me, I could come in between practice and before the movie, maybe. Harry’s coach is being such a hard-ass now that they’re in the finals, so their practice might go longer and we might have to wait for the midnight show. So, what do you think?”

  A moment passed before Claire realized that the verbal tsunami had ebbed. “Don’t worry, Emma. I remember what a social life was like. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Claire interrupted, feeling dizzy. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Why did she always seem to age at least twenty years every time she talked with Emma?

  Zac was helping a customer fit a holly-embroidered harness on a squirming labradoodle. Claire signaled him to see her when he was done, then began her work in the kitchen. She sifted the wheat and unbleached white flours for the first batch of puppy cupcakes, then added leveled tablespoons of baking powder. The food processor was grinding peanuts into a smooth paste as Claire poured the dry ingredients into the industrial mix-master. When Zac came back, Claire asked if he could stay after closing.

  “Sure. I could use the extra money for my trip to Peru.”

  “Thank you! Your sister can’t make it, though she said she would come in early tomorrow.”

  “Which means she might be on time,” Zac said.

  Claire laughed. “When you get a chance, call in an order for pizza or whatever you want for dinner. My treat.”

  “Cool.”

  Her years in marketing taught the new business owner to always lead with the good news. After Zac sent his dinner order, Claire told him that Peggy would soon be coming in to help. Despite several months of relatively good behavior by the chronically gloomy employee, the Martin siblings still dreaded working with the young spinster. His displeasure was evident by the haphazard measuring of the oat and potato flours for the grain-free batch of pumpkin puffs. To brighten his mood, she mad
e up silly lyrics to a medley of holiday songs. By the time the next batch was baking, the teen was singing his own freestyle songs.

  With the ovens full of long-baking cranberry-carob crunch rings, Claire took a break with Baron. The cold air felt refreshing--until the wind chill registered. They ran back to the shop and went upstairs to check in with their guests.

  Tyler sipped a cup of hot cocoa while his dog, Wrigley, lapped up a cup of carob cocoa before visiting with the other dogs. The high school principal’s assistant took a brochure from Joy, promising to give it to the NHHS volunteer coordinator and added a donation to the three-legged Husky’s Santa sack. On his way out, he picked up a jingle bell collar and a pawprint-snowflake bandanna made by the Golden Oaks Manor seniors.

  Tyler was nearly knocked to the ground by Deloris Dill, the town’s resident historian and retired school nurse, who burst through the door with her Corgi, Marie. They wore twin coats, the dog’s from Claire’s shop and Deloris’s custom-made to match by Simone DuBois at the neighboring Le Bon’s boutique.

  “Watch where you’re going,” she snarled as the terrified young man ran out the door. She stomped to the counter, pushing past the customers and barked at Zac to get two cups of cocoa from upstairs. She gave him a dollar bill to donate to the rescue group. “And don’t be cheap with the toppings,” she called out after him. “I need to warm up. A senior could freeze to death outside.”

  She ordered a warmed mincemeat pie for Marie while they defrosted in the canine café. Claire packed it to go, but Deloris insisted it be plated, explaining her friend Betty was holding her place in line. The pudgy pooch gobbled down the pie while her similarly-shaped owner downed both cups of cocoa. She chased Peggy upstairs to get another cup for her friend, then sipped a little off the top so it wouldn’t spill.

  The afternoon sped by as the shop was flooded with regular and new customers. The rescue group stayed an extra hour to take advantage of the steady stream of visitors, ending with a full jar and several applications.

  Barbara smiled at the total from the register report and briefed Claire. “I have to admit; the antique event did result in quite a few new customers for us.”

  “See,” said Claire, “It’s karma. Help others and you will be helped.”

  “Too bad he won’t appreciate it,” Zac said. “Maybe karma will catch up to him some day, like maybe a fatal accident?”

  “I’m sure even he hasn’t done enough to deserve that,” Barbara said.

  “I’m not so sure,” Claire wondered aloud, before turning to notice an empty display case. “Oh my goodness, that was fully stocked an hour ago.”

  “Baron charmed a group of ladies who came in from next door before we closed.”

  Zac chimed in, “Yeah, they were pretty pissed off with el jerko giving them the runaround. I guess he wasn’t prepared for so many people to come in today.”

  “Anyway,” Barbara continued, “each one bought a box full of our luxury treats.”

  “The pair of you and Baron are an irresistible force!” Claire said. “I can’t thank you enough for handling everything out here so I could bake. I think I might just get all our orders done tonight, with Zac’s help.”

  “Are you sure you don’t need me to stay?” Barbara asked.

  “No, go home and get some rest. I’m so grateful you came in early. I’ll see you Tuesday. Zac, you go ahead and take a long break. It should be pretty quiet now.”

  “Are you sure I shouldn’t stay longer to help?”

  “Nope,” Zac said, handing Peggy’s winter wardrobe to her to hasten the process. “I’m sure one person is enough. You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen. Or was that too many witches who spoil the spell?”

  Peggy eyed her coworker warily as she put on her long coat, earmuffs, scarf, and mittens. Claire hoped that the superstitious employee didn’t return with elderberry leaves, a previously shared defense against witches.

  As predicted, only a few customers and the pizza delivery man came in, allowing Claire time to straighten up the store and inventory the treats needed to refill the cases. Baron barked, announcing closing time. Claire turned off the neon sign and locked the front door, then put on her coat and took Baron out for a quick walk. They ran into Mrs. Prescott in the back door as they returned.

  Claire braced herself for a Donald-sent missive about the earlier charade. “Oh, I was going to call you to explain about that earlier, but we got so busy.”

  “No need, my dear,” the antique dealer’s wife said. “We’ve had so many customers come in with treasures to be evaluated, that Donald had to make future appointments to give them their full evaluations. Some people only wanted to enter their treasures in the contest, and they still donated at least $20 per item. It’s been marvelous! And that’s in addition to the business from that lovely woman, your accomplice, I believe.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Claire admitted. “I thought I would try eliminating any possible problems from last night, without involving you. It seems to have worked and I’m glad you had such a successful day.”

  “I don’t know how I—we--can thank you for all your help.”

  “You can save a place in line for me. I’m going to look in my basement to find some doozies.”

  Once the antique store owner left, Claire sighed. “Thank heavens that’s over. Oh, I hope I haven’t jinxed it. Good grief, now I sound like Peggy.”

  “What did Mrs. Grumpy Pants want, anyway?” Zac asked. “Did he send her over to complain about the fire chief’s visit after all?” Zac asked.

  “No, she wanted to thank me for the extra business.”

  “He couldn’t tell you?”

  “He was already gone.”

  “Of course,” Zac repeated. He volunteered to take Baron for a walk, with a stop at the coffee house to see his new crush who just happened to be on break.

  While they were gone, Claire warmed a Baron’s dinner, sneaking in a few kibbles. She grabbed a slice of pizza for herself, then worked on her laptop to design labels for the puppy shower treats. Baron and Zac returned a short while later, accompanied by a young lady he introduced as Kara.

  “Zac said it would be okay if I came in,” the pretty visitor said. She wore a University of Massachusetts sweatshirt beneath her coffee smock. “I had to see where this adorable boy works.”

  Zac’s cheeks blazed red, at first due to the attention, then at realizing the attention was meant for Baron. Kara breezed around the shop, cooing at all the bakery treats.

  “I made these,” the high school senior said, pointing to the mini-mincemeat pies. “I made mincemeat out of that task, in less than 3.14159 minutes per pi.”

  Kara laughed at the corny math joke, sealing Zac’s affection.

  “Would you like some mega mocha cocoa with extra espresso?” Claire asked, breaking the awkward silence that followed. “Your boss made me a special supply to help fuel late baking nights.”

  “No, my break’s almost over and I better not be late. I already got in trouble today for putting cream in the skim milk dispenser.”

  “That could get you killed around here,” Claire said, though neither teen paid attention. Kara accepted Zac’s chivalrous offer to walk her back. Hungry from his walk, Baron finished his dinner, though most of the kibble remained in the bowl.

  “Sorry I was gone so long,” Zac said. He threw his coat in the office and returned to the kitchen. “Isn’t she amazing?” He rolled out fondant as he expelled her virtues.

  Two hours after the store closed, they finished their priority list, including Lana’s rush puppy-shower treats. Once the cases were replenished, Claire insisted that the teen leave, as she just had to prepare the entrees.

  Zac opened the door to leave, but turned around. “I think I’ll stay till you’re done. I see Mr. Prescott’s car out there, and I don’t feel right leaving you alone with him here.”

  “He left hours ago; I wonder what he’s doing back now?”

  “Nothing l
egit, I’m sure,” Zac said. “I’ve met enough of my dad’s clients to know when someone is up to no good.”

  “It has been a long day. Let’s call it quits. “I can make the pizzas in the morning,” Claire decided. Baron rolled on his back, waiting to see if she meant it.

  Zac jumped in his car, letting the windshield wipers clean the snow off his car. Claire noticed the fresh tires tracks next to the Cadillac, wondering who the visitor might have been. She brushed every square inch of her car, twisting to peer in the darkened windows of Donald’s car. Baron, wary of the extended surveillance, stuck his head out the window and barked a single, loud “woof!”

  Claire jumped, caught her breath, then escaped into her car. “Okay, we’re going home,” she told the impatient pooch. “Next time, maybe you could be more subtle? You scared the Dickens out of me!”

  Chapter 3

  Sunday, December 3rd

  Visions of ginger-bones danced in Claire’s head for what seemed just moments before the alarm rang, and she cursed herself for extending her shop’s hours for the holiday season. Fueled by a can of double-shot espresso, she took a short run around the neighborhood with Baron before heading to work. Marti pulled in behind her with a box of pastries from Olde World Bakery. Baron’s tail wagged at high speed when he saw Clarence and Darrow.

  “I thought you might need a little extra sugar today,” Marti said. Her dogs barked and pulled to get to their friend.

  “You read my mind! What are you doing here so early, though?”

  “I’m feeling much better today and figured you could use some help before opening.”

  “You’re the best!” Claire said, rescuing the box before it fell. She locked the door behind them so the furry friends could run around both floors of the shop. “It was a crazy day yesterday; it feels like I was just here and…”

  Baron barked at the front window, joined by the beagles’ baying. Marti looked outside and reported, “There’s someone banging on the antique store’s front window. I suppose it’s too much to hope it’s your landlord with a complaint against them for a change.”