Cozy Christmas Murder Read online

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Cozy Christmas Murder An Authors of Summer Prescott Books Boxed Set

  Christmas Reunion KILLER

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Carols and Killers

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  EPILOGUE

  Spicy Christmas Murder

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  Death The Halls

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  Colorado Christmas Killer

  DEDICATION

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  Windswept Snows

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  Cozy

  Christmas

  Murder

  An

  “Authors of Summer Prescott Books”

  Boxed Set

  By

  Summer Prescott * Patti Benning

  * Carolyn Q. Hunter *Karoline Barrett

  * Jenna St. James * Donna Walo Clancy

  Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder

  Copyright 2017 Summer Prescott Books

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder

  **These books are works of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.

  Author’s note: I’d love to hear your thoughts on my books, the storylines, and anything else that you’d like to comment on—reader feedback is very important to me. My contact information, along with some other helpful links, is listed below. If you’d like to be on my list of “folks to contact” with updates, release and sales notifications, etc.… just shoot me an email and let me know. Thanks for reading!

  Also…

  … if you’re looking for more great reads, I am proud to announce that Summer Prescott Books publishes several popular series by Cozy author Patti Benning, as well as Carolyn Q. Hunter, Blair Merrin, Susie Gayle and more! Check out my book catalog http://summerprescottbooks.com/book-catalog/ for their delicious stories.

  Contact Info for Summer Prescott:

  Twitter: @summerprescott1

  Blog and Book Catalog:

  http://summerprescottbooks.com

  Email: [email protected]

  And…look up The Summer Prescott Fan Page and Summer Prescott Publishing Page on Facebook – let’s be friends!

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  Christmas

  Reunion

  KILLER

  An “Authors of Summer Prescott Books”

  Christmas Cozy

  By

  Summer Prescott

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  Avery Sanders glanced at the clock yet again. Rob had said that he’d be home for dinner at six. Dinner had come and gone and she’d gotten a text from him saying that he was working late and would probably be home around nine. At 11:30, though her stomach was in knots, and she didn’t think that she’d be able to sleep, she went to bed. Hours later, when the garage door hummed open, indicating that Rob had finally arrived…at 3:30 a.m., she wiped the tears from her face and pretended to be asleep.

  Despite having gotten in so late, Rob was up before the sun, and out the door by six. Avery feigned sleep again – she didn’t have the heart to face him, nor did she want to see the truth that she feared in his eyes. She heard his car door slam, while she lie motionless in the bed, then she heard the garage door open and close, indicating that he was gone. Her eyes felt as though tiny grains of ground glass had lodged behind her eyelids, and her head pounded as she slowly sat up.

  Dazed from a flood of emotion and a stupefying lack of sleep, Avery sat on the side of the bed for a few minutes, staring at the pattern on the carpet, unable to function. Her stomach hurt, her throat was dry, and her face was swollen from the torrents of tears that had fallen on her pillow. She’d nearly shuddered when her husband had slipped into bed beside her. The loneliness was practically tangible. A living, breathing thing. Rob stayed on his side of the bed, a chasm of chilling indifference separating the two. Yes, she’d cried all night. No, he hadn’t noticed. No, she didn’t think he would’ve cared if he had.

  Sliding off the bed, her feet hit the floor and she stood, then shuffled toward the kitchen, in desperate need of coffee. Avery went through the motions of fixing the coffee, measuring just the right amounts of grounds and water, and putting them in the stainless steel coffeemaker, without having to think about it, which was fortunate, since her brain was gripped by a grey fog that precluded real thought. She leaned against the dark quartz countertop, staring out the window, not even seeing the beauty of the late Fall morning.

  When her coffee was done brewing, she poured herself a cup and wandered back toward the bedroom, which was a definite break from her typical routine. Normally she would have gon
e to the kitchen table for a bit of breakfast before starting her work day, but the mere thought of food turned her stomach today.

  Avery found herself inexplicably standing in the doorway of the walk-in closet in the master bedroom, staring at the hamper. Rob had come in last night, and stripped down like he always did before bed. His clothes would be in the hamper. What if his clothes told tales? What if they gave her the clues that she really didn’t want to find?

  She stared at the hamper, torn. On the one hand, she felt like a paranoid, overprotective and clingy wife, who didn’t trust her husband. On the other hand, she felt the truth beckoning her from within the confines of the wicker basket in front of her. It wouldn’t hurt to look…no one would ever have to know that she suspected her husband of lying when he said he was working late. If she found nothing, she’d feel like an idiot, but if she found…something, life as she knew it would change forever.

  Avery took a large gulp of coffee, regretting it almost immediately when it hit her stomach, then set the cup on a shelf in the closet, and moved toward the hamper. Standing within inches of it, she stared down at the woven lid, her fingertips moving back and forth across the reeds.

  “This is ridiculous,” she muttered, flipping the lid open. “I’m going to do this and find out once and for all that I’m just being insecure.”

  The shirt and trousers that Rob had worn to work the previous day weren’t in the hamper, and for a moment, Avery stood, puzzled. Then realization hit. He must’ve taken his clothes down to the washing machine on the main level this morning. Anger grew as she recognized what might be an attempt to hide his bad behavior from her. Stomping downstairs, she headed directly to the laundry room.

  Rob’s clothing wasn’t on the floor in front of the washer, nor was it in the bag to go to the dry cleaner. Avery strode directly to the washing machine and lifted the lid, finding her husband’s clothes balled up inside. He’d poured the powdered soap in, but had apparently forgotten to push the start button. With trembling hands, she reached in and plucked a sleeve of his shirt from the machine, shaking the soap off and pulling the shirt out.

  She closed her eyes, brought it to her face and inhaled. She caught of whiff of something that was very faint, but slightly sweet…was it perfume? The powdered soap was unscented, and she couldn’t tell if she actually smelled anything on the fabric or not. Feeling silly and a little embarrassed at her concern, she held the shirt up, and a faint spot near the breast pocket caught her eye. Bringing it closer, she saw what looked like a beige smudge…the kind of smudge that happens when a woman who is wearing makeup brushes against fabric.

  Avery realized that a woman’s face had been close enough to her husband’s heart to leave a smudge on his shirt. Was it an embrace? Had they cuddled? Did they kiss?

  Her heart dropped like a stone and she began to shake uncontrollably, sinking to the carpet in the closet. Wild sobs ripped from her chest as she began to accept that which she had never wanted to know. Rob was cheating on her.

  The thought tore through her, tumbling around in her brain creating a vortex of emotion that threatened to drive her mad in its intensity. She cried, she screamed, she dry-heaved and cried some more. A frenzied need to know seized her, and she went through everything that he owned. Every pocket, every drawer, every shoe was inspected as a possible clue. She found ticket stubs to movies that she hadn’t attended with him, credit card receipts for expensive meals, and, as a final dagger to her aching heart…tucked into the inside pocket of his charcoal blazer, was a key card to a local hotel.

  Slumped in a miserable heap in the middle of the bedroom floor, Avery surveyed the mess that she’d made, noting that the ruins around her were nothing compared to what her life had just become. She didn’t bother to clean up, what was the point? Spent, and nearly fainting from the adrenalin crash, she picked herself up from the floor, kicked a pile of Rob’s workout clothes out of the way, and headed for the shower.

  Pain and rage had given way to numbness and determination. When she got out of the shower, she’d use a bucket load of concealer on her face to disguise her dark and puffy eyes, dress in a casual, but flattering outfit, and go see the first divorce attorney who would take a walk-in appointment.

  Avery had confronted her ever-absent husband weeks ago, and he’d concocted a story about being ultra-busy at work. When she’d talked to the wife of one of Rob’s coworkers, she’d learned that business was so slow that many of the guys were arriving late and leaving early. She should have heeded her instincts, but Rob had assured her that there was nothing going on. She may have been a fool then, but she was determined not to be one now. He’d had his chance to come clean, and they might’ve even recovered from the infidelity, but he’d lied. She’d laid her heart bare, and he’d looked her in the eyes and lied. She was done.

  CHAPTER TWO

  * * *

  When she saw the snow-laced fields in the distance, as the plane touched down in Champaign, Illinois, Avery’s heart flooded with doubt. Had coming home been a good choice? She hadn’t lived in her hometown for years, and had no idea what to expect. She would stay with her parents until she could get back on her feet, which shouldn’t take too long financially, but might take a very long time emotionally.

  Stepping into the terminal, which looked much the same as it had when Avery left, she took a deep breath and decided that the change would be good for her. It would have killed her to have stayed in the same town where she’d lived. The thought of running into Rob with his girlfriend was more than she could bear. He’d been distant for quite some time, but for some reason, she still loved him. Her hurt and feelings of betrayal would’ve been simply too much to bear in the town where they’d laughed and loved and ruled their own little world. When she left her beautiful Boise, she’d said goodbye to the memories, good and bad, yet somehow they still managed to haunt her.

  Avery’s mother, Doris, frowned and tut-tutted when she saw her daughter.

  “You need to eat,” she chided, squeezing her daughter tightly, the warmth of her hug bringing tears to Avery’s eyes.

  “Don’t listen to your mother,” her dad, Stephen, muttered, pulling her close. “You look great.”

  “Thanks, Dad,” Avery gave him a ghost of a smile.

  “Grab her bag, Stevie,” Doris ordered. “We have to get this girl home and feed her.”

  **

  Stepping back into the home of her childhood, and unpacking her bags in the room that she’d grown up in, felt like a giant step backwards. She hadn’t been able to live successfully within a relationship, and when it had gone sour, she’d come running back to mommy and daddy. Heaving a frustrated sigh, Avery finished putting her clothes away and stashed her empty suitcases in the closet, wanting nothing more than to slip beneath the chenille throw on her bed and sleep the day away.

  “It’ll get better you know.”

  Avery looked up, not even realizing that her father had been leaning against the door frame, and she jumped a bit, turning around at the sound of his deep, mellow voice.

  “I know,” she looked down, her voice barely a whisper.

  “It’s okay to not be tough all the time,” Stephen crossed the room and enveloped his daughter in a bear hug.

  Avery drank in the scent of wood smoke and cologne, a fragrance that she remembered from childhood, and, safe in her dad’s arms, she let go in a torrent of sobbing that left the front of his plaid flannel wet with her tears.

  “Why is this so hard?” she sniffed, gaining control again after a few minutes.

  Wiping a stray tear away with his thumb, Stephen smiled fondly down at his daughter.

  “You loved him,” he said simply. “That doesn’t just disappear overnight, but sometimes the best thing that we can do in relationships is to walk away when the time is right. You have a fresh start here, Avery. Make the most of it,” he advised. “And don’t be afraid to cry. Your mother and I used to kiss your boo-boos, remember?” he chuckled, heading for the door.<
br />
  Avery nodded and smiled. “Thanks, Dad.”

  “Now wash your face and come down to lunch before your mother has a fit.”

  “I will. Don’t wait for me, though. I need a minute.”

  “Take your time, we have a microwave,” Stephen grinned and shut the door on his way out.

  Avery sank down onto her bed and took a deep, shuddering breath, wanting to pull herself together before she went down to eat her mother’s delicious home cooking. She hated the fact that she felt on the verge of tears all the time; hated the fact that food, no matter how well-prepared, turned to sawdust in her mouth. But most of all, she hated feeling lonely and betrayed, staring at the ceiling at night, missing the husband who had become distant more months ago than she could remember. What was so wrong with her that he’d sought love and companionship elsewhere? What more could she have done to hold his attention and affection?

  Wallowing in the whys and hows weren’t going to help her move forward, so she had to keep reminding herself to focus on the future and shake off the past. Heading for the bathroom, bag of toiletries in hand, Avery vowed to wash herself clean of travel sluggishness and wayward thoughts. It was a new day, she was in a new location, and it was time to start her new life.

  CHAPTER THREE

  * * *

  Avery Sanders had been more than glad to hear from her agent that her latest mystery was climbing the charts. The boost in rankings on the best seller list would mean that she didn’t have to worry about money while writing her new book and trying to settle into newly-single life. The accomplished writer had taken her father’s advice seriously, and was planning to start living out her new life doing all the things that she’d wanted to do while she was married, but had been too preoccupied with the demise of her relationships to do.

  Doris had dragged her to a yoga class in the morning, under much protest, but Avery was shocked at how relaxed she’d felt afterward. The warmth in the instructor’s voice had nearly brought her to tears more than once, but the final pose, where she lay flat on her back, with a lavender-scented pillow over her eyes, had allowed every last ounce of tension that she’d been carrying to ebb out of her, leaving her feeling better than she had in a very long time. After that, Doris had taken her to lunch, and now she was settling in to write. There was some research to be done on some of the forensics in her latest book, and she was chomping at the bit to get to it.