Christmas Shop Murder

by Linnea West

  She turned and walked quickly towards the kitchen with the box of donuts in her hand. I followed along behind without her telling me to because I needed more details. I didn't like how wrapped up this family already was in a murder.

  By the time I got to the kitchen, my mother had gotten a plate out of cupboard and was cutting into a donut with a fork and knife. She hated to get her fingers dirty, so she ate everything with a fork and knife. As a kid I thought that was normal until I ate dinner at someone's house and noticed that I was the only one who asked for a fork to eat a hot dog on a bun.

  I knew she must be extra stressed if she was eating a donut. A few years ago, my mother decided to try to be healthier and sweets was one thing that she had mostly cut out of her life except for special occasions. Eating a donut on a day that wasn't a holiday meant she was not feeling like herself, especially after all of the sweets we had ingested the day before.

  "Okay Mom, start from the beginning. What happened?"

  "The police came up and knocked at the door. They asked if Tank was home and when I said he was, they told me to go get him. Thankfully he was in the living room with your father, so I was able to get both of them at the same time."

  She stopped and took another bite of her donut. It was almost like looking into my future. I couldn't help myself. I grabbed one of the donuts and took a big bite. The sweet taste almost made me forget why I had to go home in the first place. Almost.

  "So then what happened?" I prompted after waiting and chewing a while.

  "The police officers were very polite and said they needed to take Tank in to question him about the murder," my mom said quietly. "They didn't outright say it, but Tessa I think he is a suspect."

  As much of a surprise as this appeared to have been to my mother, a part of me had seen it coming. I had hoped the cops would go a different direction, but Max had been right there to hear both Rich and Tank threaten Claire as she left the store that day.

  "I'm glad Dad could go with him," I said. "But I think you are right. Unfortunately, he made a threat towards Claire as she was leaving the store the day before Thanksgiving and he wasn't exactly quiet about it."

  My mother nodded, but I could see the tears forming in her eyes. While she was feeling sad, I was feeling anger. Someone had done this to Claire and now my brother was being blamed for it. I knew I had to do something about it. We moved over to the kitchen table and for a while, my mother and I sat in silence, eating our donuts.

  "Mom, I think you should go rest," I said. She looked exhausted. I know she had been up almost as early as I had because on Black Friday there were usually guests who wanted some coffee and a to-go breakfast while they were on the way to do their shopping.

  She hesitated for a moment, looking out the window. The trees in the yard were bare and it was the point in fall where everything looked brown and dead. The snow of winter was always welcomed because it covered up the barren landscape in a beautiful, sparkly cover.

  I was glad to see some snowflakes in the air. If there was anything that could give us a small happiness boost, it was snow. My mother often said that no matter what month of the year it was, snow was always beautiful and I had to agree.

  "It's okay Mom," I said. I reached over and held her hand. It was small and bony, a reminder that while she wasn't old yet, she was getting older. "I'll watch the desk. I think you should go lie down for a little while. Or maybe you could keep working on your plan for the holiday decorating contest. Either way, I think you need to go take a break."

  She took a deep breath before nodding. We stood up together and walked out of the kitchen to the staircase. My mother went up a few stairs before coming back down and wrapping me in a big hug. We stood for a while, she and I, hugging and supporting each other both physically and emotionally.

  "I love you Tessa," she said in my ear. "I'm so sorry for everything you've been through today."

  "You don't have to be sorry Mom," I said. "It isn't like you caused any of this."

  "I know, but as a mother you are supposed to be able to help your children and protect them from things," she said. "And today you've found a murder victim and your brother is being questioned by the police about it. I feel like I've failed you."

  We were hugging so close that I couldn't see my mother's face, but her shaking voice and the wetness on my shoulder told me she was crying. I squeezed her hard, not wanting to be the first one to let go. I only stopped when I felt her arms start to loosen from around me.

  My mother stepped back and put on small hand on my face. She smiled through her tears before turning to head back up the stairs. From where we were standing, I could see one of the guest rooms on the second floor had police tape across the door. That must have been where Claire was staying and the police had been fast in searching and securing it.

  I headed over to the desk where I'm sure I would sit bored out of my skull for a while, but it might be good to give my brain a break. I thought about which card game I should play on the computer. I rotated between a few different ones and today I'd need to figure out which one would distract me the most.

  But in the back of my mind, there was a niggling thought that I just couldn't get rid of. I wanted to figure out who did this to Claire, if only to clear my brother's name. I wanted to get into Claire's room and look around. I wanted to go back to the store to investigate. But I shouldn't do that. It wasn't my job to figure it out.

  I sat down behind the ancient desktop my parents owned to keep track of bookings and guests. I pulled up the games menu and decided on good old solitaire. I opened it up and as I changed the card back picture to be a picture of Santa Claus, I decided to just try and forget about what happened that day. The police were on the case and didn't need me to interfere with their investigation. That would be easier said than done, of course.

  Chapter Nine

  A while later, I went up to my room to grab a book to read. When I moved back in with my parents, I had to move back into the only room that wasn't really taken which was my parent's library. We had our own section of the bed and breakfast that was private, just for the family. It had two bedrooms: one for my parents and another plush guest suite that Tank lived in. That left only the library to be my room. On one hand, it was nice for me because I loved to read and I was literally surrounded by books. On the other hand, it made it harder for anyone else to get a book. But I didn't plan on living with my parents forever. I just needed a bit more time to get back on my feet.

  As I browsed through the shelves looking for something light to read, there was a soft knock on my door frame. I turned and saw my mother standing there. She still looked worried, but at least now she looked a little more well rested.

  "How are you feeling?" I asked.

  "Better," she said. "But I still haven't heard anything from your father or Tank."

  That couldn't be good. I could only assume that meant they thought he was a suspect. He'd been at the station longer than I had been questioned this morning and I was the one who actually found the body.

  "I'm sure we will hear from them soon," I said. I hoped that I wasn't lying to my mother. I realized that it was close to dinner time and I was sure she hadn't thought about eating. We typically ate home cooked, healthy meals, but I had another idea for this weird evening.

  "Mom, I'm going to call Mike's Pizza and order us a pepperoni for delivery," I said. I knew not to ask or she would insist on making something much better for us. She nodded and went back to her bedroom to wait as I called for the pizza.

  Mike's Pizza was hands down the best place to get pizza in Shady Lake. It was locally owned and had been around since my mother was in high school. In fact, her best friend had worked there at one point. Shady Lake had a couple of chain pizza stores, but Mike's was the best. Their secret was that instead of using shredded cheese, they used sliced cheese on top of their pizza. It sounds weird, but it is a total game changer.

  After I made the phone call, I went down to sit in the f
ront window and wait. When my mom came down the stairs, she stopped and looked at me for a moment before disappearing into the kitchen. She came out again holding paper plates and some forks.

  "Let's eat upstairs in the family room," she said. That was so out of character for her that it made me worry. As kids, we always begged to eat dinner in front of the television and she insisted we eat at the table. In fact, I can count on one hand the times we actually got the treat of eating in the family room.

  "Okay, you go up and I'll bring the pizza when it gets here," I said.

  My mom nodded and walked back up the stairs with the supplies in hand. I hoped they wouldn't take too long with the pizza because I wanted to be able to spend time with my mother. The pizza was partly my way of distracting us until we heard from Tank and my dad.

  My phone buzzed as I looked out the window. I flipped it open to see a message from Clark Hutchins.

  I heard that Tank was brought in. Are you and your family okay? What can I do to help?

  Clark was the other man I have been casually dating. Unlike Max who was a lifelong Shady Lake resident, Clark was the handsome stranger in town. He had moved here when he took a job as a social studies teacher at Shady Lake High School.

  He must have just gotten back into town from celebrating Thanksgiving and heard about everything that happened. Clark was Tank's football coach and had taught him a few times so I knew that his concern wasn't just for me, but for Tank as well.

  My mom is really shaken up and my dad is there with him. They've been there all day. We don't really know what is going on. There isn't much you can do, but thank you for offering.

  As I hit send, the doorbell rang. I opened it up to find a scraggly looking, long haired high school boy holding a pizza box. He shifted back and forth from one foot to the other as I handed him the money and took the pizza. The kid stood there a little longer, looking like he wanted to say something.

  "You can keep the change," I said, thinking he wanted to make sure of the reason I had given him the amount of cash I had.

  "Thanks," he said, continuing to stand on the front porch nervously looking around.

  I looked at him for a moment before I grabbed the door and started to close it in his face. I wasn't really sure what else to do. The boy put his hand up on the door to stop me from shutting it.

  "Um, by the way, I know Tank and I know he would never do something like that," the pizza boy said. He looked all around the porch, but not at me. "He's a good guy."

  "Thank you," I said. Even though bad news travels fast in a small town, so do well wishes.

  The boy stood there for another moment before turning, carefully descending the stairs and getting back into his rusty old car with a giant sticker for Mike's Pizza on the side of it. As he rumbled out of the driveway, I shut the door and headed upstairs.

  My mother had settled herself onto the couch they had bought last year, pulled a knitted blanket over her lap, and turned on the television. None of us watched much television, but she had picked a station that played old sitcoms so the laugh track was going full-force as I came in. It was oddly comforting.

  I put a slice of pizza on each plate for us and handed one to my mom before sitting down next to her. As I bit into the greasy, cheesy slice of pizza, I promised myself that I would make a New Year's resolution to eat better. If I kept it up with the donuts and pizza, my already tight pants weren't going to button soon.

  My mother's phone rang and she grabbed it off of the coffee table so fast I almost didn't see her hand shoot out from the blanket. Her face went pale as she looked at who was calling. I knew that meant it was something to do with Tank. She hit the button to answer and lifted it to her face.

  "Hi honey, how is he doing? Uh huh. But he won't say where he was that night? They can't hold him very long, can they? That long? Really? Well let me know when you know more."

  She hit the end button and put her phone back on the table as her hand shook. I had been hungry for another slice of pizza, but now I wasn't so sure.

  "That was your father," she said. "He said that he and Tank are still going to be there for a while. Apparently they can hold a suspect for quite a while if they are suspected of something as bad as murder and Tank says he was busy Thanksgiving night, but won't actually give his alibi."

  She started to softly cry and I leaned over to give her a hug. I wished I could give my dad a hug too. I can't imagine how hard it is to sit in and listen to your son be questioned as a suspect in such a heinous murder.

  I couldn't believe the police still wanted to hold him. They really had nothing against him besides the facts that he had a key to the store, is big enough to have actually physically done it, and for some reason won't provide an alibi. I had to admit it looked fishy, but there were no clues actually tying him to the scene.

  But when small town cops have something big like this happen, they tend to jump to a conclusion and then develop tunnel vision to anything else. I don't have anything against the cops. Heck, I'm dating one. But they weren't used to big investigations and I think they get a little too excited when they have to do one.

  We went back to watching the television for a while. A man and a woman were involved in some sort of slapstick routine where they were trying to pack a suitcase to go on vacation but they couldn't quite get it shut. It was funny, but I just couldn't bring myself to laugh at it. The humor paled somewhat in comparison to the real life situation we were dealing with.

  "Tessa, could you do something for me?" my mother said quietly once the end credits started to roll. "I don't really want to ask you. In fact your father would absolutely kill me if he knew I was asking you."

  "What is it?" I said. I put my hand on her arm. She often looked much younger than her fifty-five years, but right now she looked older. The day had really taken a toll on her.

  "I need you to look into this situation and find something so that we can prove Tank had nothing to do with it," my mom said. "You are so good at solving these things. Now I need you to solve this. You don't need to interfere with the investigation, We just need something small that will point them in a different direction. I'm counting on you."

  I took a second slice of pizza and thought about it for a moment. Obviously I wanted to help my family, especially my brother. But I wasn't really a detective. I've stumbled my way through a murder investigation before and I like to listen to true crime podcasts. I still don't have any training or anything though. How in the world was I going to do this?

  "I'll do it," I said. I didn't really have a choice. I needed to get Tank out of there.

  Chapter Ten

  The first thing I needed to do was to get back into the Christmas Shop and look for clues. But I couldn't ask Sue for help. As much as I believed she didn't do this, she was a suspect. I didn't want to ask a suspect for help because I'd accidentally done that before and it had almost gotten me shot.

  My mother and I had stayed up almost all night watching old sitcoms together on the couch because neither of us could go to sleep. We had changed into our pajamas and gotten ready for bed but both of us had drifted back to the couch, hoping we would hear Tank and my dad coming in.

  Once it hit four in the morning, I called Mandy and asked if I could help her make donuts. She was bright and peppy and agreed immediately to my help, although I was a terrible baker and didn't provide much actual help. After changing into a pair of jeans and an older top that I knew would be covered in flour by the time I was done, I headed towards the Donut Hut.

  When I walked into the familiar warmth, Mandy was chipper as always. She had a carafe of coffee and a mug ready for me as she was busily frosting donuts. She smiled as I walked in and hung my jacket before pouring myself a cup of coffee. I had text her the night before, so she knew what was happening with Tank and she knew that this was another situation where I needed a little time before I'd talk.

  I drank the first cup of coffee fast and was distracted enough by pouring myself another that I
hadn't noticed Mandy had warmed up a breakfast sandwich for me. I thanked her before taking a big bite. Then I told her all of the details that I knew about the murder and the investigation. When I was done, she stopped frosting and looked up at me.

  "And now you want to go looking for your own clues, right?" she asked. She knew me too well.

  "Yes," I said, hanging my head a bit. "But only because my own mother asked me to. She is so distraught over Tank being a suspect and she wants me to find something to get the police to look the other way."

  "I hate to tell you, but that will be sort of hard to do," she said as she artfully added sprinkles to the donuts. "Trevor said the police are not really investigating any other suspects, at least as far as he can tell."

  Trevor is Mandy's boyfriend and not only is he an emergency dispatcher, but he also is pretty good friends with several of the police officers in town. To me, the fact that he has a steady job is about his only redeeming factor. I've never quite understood what Mandy sees in him, but they've been together for over a decade now and live together above the Donut Hut.

  "I don't suppose there is any way you can come with me to the Christmas Shop, right?" I asked. I really needed backup, but I also didn't want to make Mandy lose track of everything she needed to do. The Donut Hut was run on a shoestring budget, just barely making enough to keep afloat and make sure Mandy could pay all of her bills. I didn't want to do anything that may endanger that, including getting her wrapped up in a murder investigation.

  "I figured you were going to ask," she said. "Let me pop one more tray in the oven and then I'll have a chunk of time to come with while they bake."

  I put my jacket on and once she put the tray in, I handed her jacket to her. She set a timer on her phone for fifteen minutes so that we didn't lost track of time and we popped out the door into the cold.

  When we got to the Christmas Shop, I looked around and besides the police tape that was still over the door, no one was around. If the police really thought they had their suspect in custody, I really doubted they'd have anyone watching the store.