A Wee Christmas Homicide (9 page)

Did she? Dan was right. It was none of her business.

He didn’t wait for her to answer. “I came home at dawn, following the plow. Margaret’s light was on. Your place was dark. The town square looked like a picture postcard. I didn’t notice if there were lights on at Thorne’s place, or anywhere else for that matter. I didn’t see anyone out and about except one stray snowmobiler. End of statement.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. I wish I
had
seen something. I didn’t care much for Gavin Thorne, but no one deserves to be murdered.”

“I doubt his ex would agree with you.”

“Well, there you go. She killed him.”

“That would be good.” Liss gave a nervous little laugh. “Well, not
good,
exactly. Better than the killer being someone, well…local.” She shook her head. “I’m babbling again, aren’t I?”

“You’re entitled. Are you going to open the shop today?”

“Not unless Aunt Margaret wants to.” She sent a fulminating glare at the ceiling. “I’ll ask as soon as I’m allowed in.”

“The Emporium is your shop,” Dan reminded her.

“Only half of it. The other half belongs to my aunt.”

He frowned, hearing more than she’d intended in her tone of voice. “Are you worried about that now that she’s back?”

Liss shrugged. “A little. You saw how she’s changed, Dan. I don’t know what to expect next.”

“Change can be good. And if she wants the Emporium back, there are other things you can do.” His smile was gentle. “I might have an idea or two to suggest for your future.”

Liss scarcely heard him. Her thoughts were still on the shop. She’d poured all her energy into making it a success online. She didn’t want to give that up.

“Think positive,” Dan said.

“You’re right. Maybe I’m making too much of the gray hair and the ‘call me Margaret’ and it will all work out just fine.”

Too restless to sit still any longer, she left the cozy corner and returned to her post by the window. The mobile crime lab van had arrived. So had several other official-looking vehicles. Drawn by the yellow crime-scene tape, a crowd of gawkers had gathered in the town square. Liss recognized Lovey FitzPatrick at once.

“See that woman in the bright blue coat?” she asked Dan, who had joined her at the window. “Is she staying at the hotel?”

“Oh, yeah. Ms. FitzPatrick. Quite a character.” Abruptly, his voice hardened. “And here comes the news van. Damn.”

“And to think we
wanted
them here for the pageant…. Oh, my God! The pageant! What am I going to do about tonight’s ceremony? We already had to postpone last night’s event and for tonight I’ve got eight girls set to dress up as milkmaids. If we’re going to have to cancel, I need to call them.”

“Wait a bit longer. Maybe—”

“No.” Liss’s heart sank as she considered all the ramifications. “The Toy Box and the town square are just too close together. There’s no way we can pretend not to see the crime scene tape, and no way that the news media will let us get away with ignoring it. Besides, what’s the point now? The only Tiny Teddies were in Thorne’s shop. They’re evidence, right? No one will be able to do anything with them until the investigation is finished.”

The hard grip of Dan’s hands on her shoulders brought her head up with a snap.

“Are you listening to yourself?” he demanded. “You didn’t get into this for Gavin Thorne’s benefit and there’s no reason why his death, tragic as it is, should bring everything to a grinding halt. Move the ceremony to the hotel. Hell, bring stock from the all shops in town and sell it in the lobby. We have
snow,
Liss. It’s eight days till Christmas. Do you honestly think Thorne would have closed his place if some other Moosetookalook businessperson had been murdered?”

“Crass commercial—”

“Common sense. It’s called making a living. No one expects you or me or anyone else to go out of business just because Thorne got himself killed.”

That he was right didn’t make Liss feel any better about the situation. She couldn’t quite shake the conviction that she’d been responsible for putting the events in motion that had led to Thorne’s murder.

T
he sound of footsteps on the stairs heralded Gordon Tandy’s return to the Emporium. He scowled when he saw Dan.

“Thought you’d have been on your way by now, Ruskin. Didn’t you say you were headed to work when you almost ran over Mrs. Boyd?”

Ignoring the other man, Dan turned to Liss. “I can stay if you want me to.”

“That’s okay. Gordon has to interview me, and you do have a job to go to. Will you make the arrangements at the hotel for tonight’s ceremony?”

“No problem.”

As soon as Dan had left—with flattering reluctance—and driven away, Gordon greeted Liss in a slightly more personal fashion with a peck on the cheek. “What ceremony?”

“Where have you been hiding? Surely you’ve heard about the Twelve Shopping Days of Christmas?”

“Oh, that. Yes, I did. Thought it was a stroke of genius, if you want to know the truth.”

She acknowledged the compliment with a little mock curtsey and a “Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Sorry I haven’t called lately, Liss, but you know how it is at this time of year. Everybody’s supposed to be happy. Hey, it’s Christmas! The added pressure is just too much for some people. They get drunk and crash their cars. Domestic violence calls increase. And the really screwed-up cases shoot, stab, poison, or otherwise do harm to their nearest and dearest.”

“Lovely job you have. Is that what you think happened here? The ex wife flipped out?”

He shrugged. “It’s too early to say and I couldn’t share any theories with you even if I had one. I need to examine the crime scene.”

“You didn’t do that first?”

He shook his head. “I collect what facts there are before I go in.” He steered her back to the cozy corner and pulled out his notebook. “Did you hear anything unusual last night?”

“No shots fired, if that’s what you mean. The snowplow went by at least once, but I don’t know when.”

He took her through the morning’s events, but since Liss hadn’t seen anything out of the ordinary except a man in a gray coat banging on the door to The Toy Box, the interview quickly came to an end.

“I’ve been wanting to call and ask you out to dinner,” Gordon said when he’d closed his notebook and returned it to a pocket. “The job’s been in the way. Now this murder is really going to interfere with my personal life.”

“Look at the bright side. If you’re spending time in Moosetookalook, we’ll be able to talk to each other now and again. You can come by for coffee.”

“True. Maybe even lunch.” He leaned forward, taking her hands in his. “It’s damned frustrating, Liss. I spend more time than I should thinking about you, and have less time than ever to spend with you.”

“I’d like to see more of you, too, although I’d really prefer it didn’t take a crime scene to bring us together.”

His grip tightened. “Stay out of this investigation, okay?”

“Trust me, I have no plans to get involved. I’ve got too much else on my plate as it is.” She tried for a lighter tone. “It would be a really good thing if you could solve this case quickly. Moosetookalook doesn’t need the bad publicity.”

“My plan exactly, after which I have another plan, a remedy for that other problem…the one where I don’t see enough of you.”

This time the kiss was much more than a peck on the cheek. Liss was still reeling from the impact when the jangle of sleigh bells told her Gordon had left the building. She touched her fingers to her lips. The man did know how to kiss.

Then again, so did Dan.

Just after noon, Sherri knocked on Liss MacCrimmon’s kitchen door.

The first words out of Liss’s mouth were, “Please tell me there’s been an arrest.”

“Sorry, but no. I’m just here to bum lunch.”

“You’ll have to settle for peanut butter and jelly.”

“I can live with that. Heck, I can live
on
that. So, did your two gentlemen friends come to blows?”

“Oh, please.”

“Hey, I caught sight of Dan’s face when he left the Emporium. He was not a happy camper.”

They exchanged idle chitchat while Liss made a sandwich for each of them. Sherri bit into hers and chewed thoughtfully, her eyes on Liss’s face.

“What? Do I have peanut butter on my nose?”

Sherri chuckled. “I was just wondering what kind of Christmas presents they have in mind for you.”

Liss’s eyes narrowed. “What are you getting at?”

“Christmas is a very romantic time of year.”

“Oh, no. Nobody’s getting serious here.”

“You sure? I mean, you ought to give it some thought. Could be there’s a diamond ring in your future.”

“Just because you and Pete are getting hitched, doesn’t mean everyone else wants to tie the knot.”

They ate in silence for a few minutes.

“Damn!” Liss exploded. “Now I can’t get the idea out of my head. Dan did say something this morning about having a few suggestions for my future. And Gordon—Gordon said he thought he might have come up with a way to see more of me. Damn!”

“Hah! Told you so.” Sherri polished off the PB&J and reached for the soda beside her plate.

“It seemed like such a good idea at the time. Two attractive, personable men, both interested in being more than friends. I wasn’t able to choose between them, so I decided to go out with both of them. It was supposed to be oh-so-civilized and, eventually, I was
sure
I’d be able to pick one over the other.” Liss fingered the nubbly pattern on the tablecloth, a grim expression on her face.

“Didn’t work, huh?”

Liss shrugged. “I’ve gotten to know both Dan and Gordon much better over the last nine months, and if I’d been aiming to be lifelong friends with them both, I’d be completely satisfied.”

Satisfaction, Sherri thought, in line with the old Rolling Stones song, was probably the one thing Liss was
not
getting.

“After all this time, shouldn’t I know it if I’m in love? And if I’m not, doesn’t it seem unlikely I ever will be?”

“Can you see yourself having sex with one or the other of them?” Sherri asked.

“Sure. They both get the old juices flowing. But that isn’t the same thing, and I’m not about to sleep with two men at the same time.”

“You haven’t actually seen much of either one of them for the last few weeks,” Sherri reminded her.

Liss sighed. “Maybe that says it all. Proposal of marriage or not, I’m going to have to choose one of them soon…or dump them both. A fine heck of a note,” she added in a mutter. “Here I am, only a couple of years short of thirty, and I’m still doing a dog paddle in the dating pool!”

Sherri polished off lunch without further comment. She sympathized, but only to a point, and was glad she had only one ornery man to worry about. “How’s Margaret doing?”

Liss chuckled. “After Gordon left, I went up to her apartment. I found her lying on the sofa, one arm over her eyes. She moved it just far enough to squint at me and tell me to go away because she was having an attack of the vapors.”

Sherri laughed out loud. “Margaret Boyd never had the vapors in her entire life.”

“Well, she’s decided she wants to have them now. She said she thought those Victorian ladies had a good thing going. Slightest little setback and they’d take to their fainting couches.” Liss made a derisive sound. “They had to, I told her. They were stuffed into corsets laced so tightly they couldn’t breathe.”

“And here I thought you were a fan of Gothic novels.”

“Only some of them. If one of them has a TSTL heroine, it makes me want to throw the book across the room.”

“TSTL?”

“Too stupid to live. You know the type. They hear a loud noise in the basement—or the attic, or the crypt—and they charge right in, unarmed and without backup, to find out what it is.”

“Usually wearing a flowing white nightie, right?”

“Only in the cover art.”

Since Liss had finished clearing the table, Sherri stood. “Are you going to open the shop this afternoon?”

“No. Margaret needs time to collect herself and she won’t have any peace if she can hear customers coming and going downstairs. It was a shock finding a dead man.”

“Of course it was.”

“Margaret’s also upset because she didn’t think she was much help to Gordon. She was up early, you see, but the only sounds she can remember hearing were normal. You know—engines revving, the snowplow doing its thing.”

Liss took a bag of kibble out of a cupboard and refilled the cat feeder. As if by magic, Lumpkin appeared, closely followed by the black kitten.

“What about you, sport,” Sherri asked the cat. “Did you see or hear anything suspicious?”

“I don’t think you want to hear Lumpkin’s thoughts today. He’s not happy about his little buddy there.” The kitten insinuated itself between Lumpkin and the food, but for a miracle Lumpkin allowed the incursion.

“Are you going to keep it?” Sherri asked.

“I don’t know yet. The owner may still turn up. Why? Are you looking for a pet for Adam?”

“I wouldn’t mind, but my mother would have fits.” Ida Willett had moved in with Sherri and her son when she’d divorced Ernie and now cared for Sherri’s son while Sherri was at work. Sherri tried not to rile her. Finding a good day care provider wasn’t easy and it cost a small fortune.

The kitten stopped eating to strop itself against Lumpkin’s front legs. The larger feline bristled and hissed.

“Get over it,” Liss told him. To Sherri, she said, “If no one claims it by Christmas I’ll probably call the vet and make an appointment for a rabies shot and all the other vaccinations it needs.”

Sherri wasn’t at all surprised. Liss had a kind heart. “Have you named it yet?”

“It’s too soon.”

Sherri glanced at her watch. “Nope. It’s too late. I’ve got to get back to work.” She couldn’t suppress a grin or control the tremor of excitement in her voice.

Liss’s eyes narrowed. “Have you been at the crime scene all this time?”

“Yup. And I’m going to stay on the case.” She preened just a bit. “You are looking at their local expert.”

“Better you than me!”

“I even provided Gordon with a clue.” She leaned closer to her friend and lowered her voice. “You can’t tell anyone this, Liss, but all the Tiny Teddies, the new ones, are missing.”

“Are you sure? Maybe he sold them already.”

“How many did he have?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know for certain where he got them or what costumes they were wearing. Not kilts. I’m pretty sure of that much.”

“And?”

Liss hesitated, but her internal debate didn’t last more than thirty seconds. “I don’t want to get anyone in trouble, but this
is
a murder investigation. Tell Gordon he should probably have a little talk with Eric Moss.”

Liss meant to stay clear of the murder investigation. She had other things to worry about—the change in venue for the ceremony, the presence of frustrated shoppers in town, and the press, not to mention possible proposals of marriage. And yet one question kept nagging at the back of her mind as she spent the afternoon making phone calls and fending off reporters: had the presence of Tiny Teddies in The Toy Box been responsible for Gavin Thorne’s murder? Each time the possibility surfaced, she shoved it firmly aside, even when it was asked by the same smiling television newswoman who’d covered the five golden rings ceremony.

On the theory that the best defense is a good offense, Liss left the safety of her own house for the porch of the Emporium when she saw the news crew head that way. She’d already made a brief statement about how saddened the entire community was by the loss of one of its members. She intended to make an announcement about the evening’s entertainment—they’d decided to wait until tomorrow to continue the ceremonies—and then retreat.

The woman with the microphone wasn’t interested in Liss’s spin. She had her own agenda. “Surely you must have some idea why he was killed? I understand Mr. Thorne had been charging outrageous prices for the remaining Tiny Teddies.”

“I really can’t speculate.” Liss heard the hint of panic in her own voice and wished she’d left well enough alone. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sudden chill that had nothing to do with the freezing temperature.

“Were the Tiny Teddies stolen by the killer?”

“I have no idea.”

“Any idea how many are left, then?”

“I have not been inside The Toy Box, and even if I had, I don’t think I should be telling you anything. Talk to the police.”
Vultures,
she thought, moving closer to the entrance of the shop. Next they’d be asking her what she knew about Thorne’s love life.

Instead, the reporter latched onto an even more troubling subject. “Is there any connection between this murder and the last one to take place in Moosetookalook?” The woman’s eyes were avid, as if she scented blood in this line of questioning.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Liss had one foot on the porch but turned back, eyes flashing with annoyance. “Mr. Thorne didn’t even live here back then. I repeat: if you have questions about his death, talk to the police. The only news story I have for you concerns tonight’s portion of our Twelve Days of Christmas Pageant.”

“A little heartless, isn’t it? Going on with the festivities when there’s been a death?”

“I am certain that Mr. Thorne would have wanted us to continue as planned.”

That was certainly true. As Dan had suggested, had someone else been murdered, Thorne would have been the last one to miss a sale because of it.

“However,” she continued, “tonight’s portion of the program has been postponed until tomorrow night and the combined seventh, eighth, and ninth days of Christmas will be celebrated at The Spruces, a lovely old hotel that has just been completely renovated. You may recall that it opened to the public last July. The festivities start at six o’clock.”

Firing the last part of her announcement over her shoulder, Liss scuttled inside the safe haven of Moosetookalook Scottish Emporium and shut the door in the reporter’s face. Instinctively, she engaged the dead bolt and was glad she had when someone turned the knob, then rattled it aggressively. Fists thudded against the wood, louder than ordinary knocking.

Determined to ignore the clamor to be let in, Liss stood with her back pressed against the inside of the door. The second round of pounding was violent enough to reverberate through her entire body. Or maybe that was trembling. She held one hand out in front of her and, sure enough, it was shaking.