Cozy Christmas Murder Page 8

“If Rosanne’s husband’s permit had been approved, his new development would have displaced the animal shelter,” Vaughn commented, lost in thought. “Avery, how good of friends were you with Linda?”

  “I wouldn’t call us friends. We hadn’t spoken at all until I came back home and she was at the girls night event. Why?”

  “I have to wonder if she was obsessed with you. Remember, in your book, one of the reasons that the victim was killed was because she’d written a bad review of the protagonist’s new product. The animal shelter alone might not be sufficient motive, but maybe if she thought her favorite author was being attacked…”

  “Let me grab my laptop…I can check my reviews to see if I see her name,” Avery sprinted for the stairs.

  Doris looked at the two officers in front of her, their uniforms and guns making her a bit nervous.

  “Coffee?” she asked.

  “Yes ma’am,” the two men said in unison.

  By the time Avery got back downstairs with her laptop, Doris had all three men, the officers and her husband, happily munching Christmas cookies and washing them down with strong coffee.

  “Okay,” Avery murmured, clicking away at her keyboard. “I just need to pull up my author profile and I’ll be able to see the reviews…and here we go. Let me scroll. I’m probably looking for something more recent, right?”

  “I would assume so, yes,” Vaughn replied, biting into another cookie.

  Her eyes scanned the screen for about twenty seconds, when suddenly her heart skipped a beat.

  “There it is,” she breathed. “It’s a scathing one-star review and the poster’s screen name is MidwestRose. Can you trace it to see if it was Rosanne who wrote it?” she asked Vaughn.

  “Yes, but it probably doesn’t matter.”

  “What do you mean?” Avery frowned.

  “If the killer was motivated by revenge, it doesn’t matter if Rosanne actually wrote the review or not.”

  “The killer just had to assume that she did,” Avery nodded, catching on immediately.

  “That looks like motive,” Dan mused.

  “Yes, it does,” Vaughn agreed. “We’ve got enough to get a search warrant, and I’m thinking that her computer files will tell us all that we need to know.”

  “I doubt it,” Avery mumbled, and everyone in the room stared at her. “She’s smarter than that. She goes to the library every Saturday – I’d check their computers first.”

  “We’ll play it safe and do both, but thanks for the tip,” Vaughn nodded his approval for the first time.

  “Would you boys like to stay for dinner?” Doris invited, much to Avery’s chagrin.

  “Thanks just the same, Mrs. Sanders, but we’ve got a killer to arrest,” Vaughn said grimly, then turned to Avery. “You’ve been a big help in this case, but now you need to stay home and let us work, deal?” he asked.

  “Deal,” the author nodded with a faint smile.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  * * *

  “I think you’re right, this has to be the best party punch I’ve ever tasted,” Kerry held up his empty glass.

  “Go easy on it,” Avery laughed. “There’s enough sugar in there to sink a ship.”

  “Good – I’ll need the energy to play Santa.”

  “You’re playing Santa?” her eyes sparkled merrily.

  “Why do you sound so surprised?”

  “Well, I don’t think even that whole bowl of punch will fatten you up in time, and you don’t have a fluffy white beard,” she stood appraising him, hands on hips.

  The two of them had been having a grand time decorating the children’s museum and turning it into a winter wonderland, complete with fluffy “snow” and twinkling lights.

  “No worries, Santa brought everything he needs,” he held up a padded Santa suit and a full white beard, mustache and wig set.

  “Nice,” Avery laughed. “I’m sure it suits you.”

  “Ho ho ho, watch out, naughty girls get coal in their stockings,” he teased.

  “Fifteen minutes until we open the doors,” the energetic museum director, who was dressed like an elf, popped her head around the curtain on the stage where Santa’s chair was set up.

  “Thanks,” Kerry raised a hand.

  “I guess that’s my cue to go,” Avery commented.

  “Sure you don’t want to stick around and play with the reindeer?” Kerry asked.

  “I’m allergic. Thanks for inviting me to help, it was fun.”

  “I’ll walk you out. It doesn’t take any time at all to slip into uniform.”

  He opened a side door to the parking lot and they discovered a sparkling blanket of snow covering everything, making the whole downtown look clean and bright. Flakes continued to drift lazily down, and when Avery looked up at him, they caught on her eyelashes.

  “Brunch at my parents’ house tomorrow?” she reminded him.

  “Wouldn’t miss it,” he promised.

  “Knock ‘em dead, Santa,” Avery grinned, getting in her car.

  He stood and watched while she drove away.

  **

  After brunch, bellies were full, carols were playing on the stereo, and Avery couldn’t stand to stay in the house another minute.

  “I’m going for a walk, anybody else?” she asked.

  “That’s my girl. You can’t keep her glued to the chair when the snow flies. She’s gotta be outside,” her dad observed fondly.

  “You could use a walk yourself you know,” Doris remarked, nudging her husband. “All those calories.”

  “Snoring burns calories and I’m quite good at that, thank you very much,” Steve replied.

  “I’m game. I love the fresh cold air too,” Kerry stood, heading for the coat closet.

  Avery’s parents exchanged a look.

  “Alright you two,” she warned. “There had better be some pumpkin pie waiting for us when we get back. And Dad, no squirting the whipped cream directly in your mouth, we’ve got company.”

  “Spoilsport,” her dad muttered, his eyes already heavy as he reclined in his favorite chair.

  **

  “Your parents are so great,” Kerry smiled as the newly-fallen snow squeaked beneath their feet.

  Hands buried in thick yarn mittens that her mother had knitted just a few days ago, Avery agreed.

  “Yep, I’m lucky.”

  “Got a question for ya,” he stopped and took her hands in his.

  “Okay,” she looked at him warily.

  “Santa wants to know what you’d like for Christmas,” he smiled tenderly down at her, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face.

  She gazed up at him, a strange warmth flooding through her that had nothing to do with her new mittens, a sweet smile blossoming over her delicate features.

  “I have everything I need,” she replied, enjoying the safety of friendship.

  “Nobody has everything they need,” Kerry stepped closer.

  “You’re right,” Avery nodded. “I need a snowball,” she blurted, then bent down to make one and threw it at him while running away.

  “Oh you’re going to pay for that,” he gave chase as she shrieked with laughter.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  * * *

  “Your ex-husband was never in town on the night that you thought you saw him,” Vaughn Marsh explained.

  “He never left Boise, we confirmed that. When we went to the library, we found all the evidence that we needed, but we searched Linda Brown’s home anyway, and found that she was definitely obsessed with you. She had all of your books prominently displayed, along with framed articles and interviews. Her high school yearbook was open to the page where you had signed it and displayed with the other memorabilia. We also found a significant amount of evidence linked to the crime, which we’re not at liberty to discuss, in her home and in her locker at the antique store.”

  “Wow. Do you think that I was in danger?” Avery breathed.

  “You? No, never. She thought the world of
you. But your ex-husband, and anyone who dared to criticize you…possibly.”

  “That’s just…” she was speechless.

  “Crazy?” Vaughn supplied. “Yeah, it is. We see all types of criminals, and some of them need a hospital more than they need prison.”

  “So, what will happen to her?” Avery asked softly.

  “That’s for the courts to decide. I’ve gathered the evidence, thanks in no small part to you, and handed it over to the prosecutors. They’ll take it from here.”

  “Is she already in custody?”

  “Yep. She’ll stay there until her bond hearing, and considering the nature of her crime, I don’t think they’ll let her out, so she’ll probably be there until her case goes to trial.”

  “It’s strange to think that someone loves my work so much that it literally impacts their life and decisions,” Avery shuddered and shook her head.

  “Well, I’m a fan too, but don’t worry, I don’t read the reviews,” Vaughn cracked a smile.

  “You read my books?” Avery was astonished.

  “Yep, I do. I’m impressed with your grasp of police procedure.”

  “That’s why you thought that I was guilty…because you realized that I know how an investigation would be conducted,” she commented.

  “I never really believed that you were guilty, but I had to at least explore the possibility, given the details of the case,” Vaughn shrugged.

  “Yeah, I know,” Avery let him off the hook. “Well, thanks for coming by to bring me up to speed.”

  “I thought you’d want to know. For what it’s worth, at least you can feel safe knowing that your ex is going to leave you alone.”

  “Yeah, I’m thankful for that.”

  “Divorce can be an ugly thing,” he commented, making no move toward the door.

  “You’re divorced?”

  “Yeah, occupational hazard,” a corner of his mouth quirked upward in a wry smile.

  “I bet. It’s gotta be hard to sit at home wondering if your husband is dead or alive.”

  “Well, if she was sitting at home, we might not be divorced, but she elected to go out and party with men other than me,” he looked down, embarrassed.

  “My ex cheated too,” Avery said softly.

  Vaughn’s head snapped up.

  “You’re kidding. He must be a fool.”

  “At the end, I certainly thought so,” Avery gave him a rueful smile.

  “At the end of my marriage, I was the one who felt like a fool,” Vaughn confessed. “Well, I should be going,” he visibly shook off his memories of the painful past.

  “I’ll walk you out.”

  When they got to the front door, Vaughn turned around, looking as though he wanted to say something.

  “Thanks again,” Avery smiled.

  “You’re welcome. Look, this may be entirely inappropriate, and I wouldn’t blame you if you said no, based upon our interactions up until now, but…would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me sometime?” he asked, a slow blush rising up the back of his neck.

  “I really would,” Avery nodded. “And I’ll try my best not to pick your brain for book ideas.”

  “That’s great,” Vaughn let out a breath, relieved. “Well, I’ll call you,” he stepped out onto the porch.

  “I’ll look forward to it,” Avery grinned and waved goodbye.

  “You sly minx, you’ve got a date with a policeman,” Doris teased from behind her shoulder.

  “Mom! You have to stop eavesdropping,” Avery blushed to the roots of her hair.

  “Who was eavesdropping? I was baking cookies. Not my fault that voices carry. Now get upstairs and finish your book. I’ll bring your lunch up to you,” she waved her daughter away.

  Flushed with nothing but positive emotion, Avery flung her arms around her mother and hugged her tightly for a moment.

  “Thanks, Mom, you’re the best!”

  Carols

  and

  KILLERS

  An “Authors of Summer Prescott Books”

  Christmas Cozy

  By

  Patti Benning

  CHAPTER ONE

  * * *

  Autumn Roth pulled the smoking pan out of the oven, letting it drop onto the stovetop along with the dishtowel that she had used as a makeshift oven mitt. “Ow, ow, ow,” she said, dancing over to the sink and thrusting her hand under the cold water.

  “This is all your fault, Frankie, for chewing up the real oven mitt,” she said, looking down at her dog. The little terrier was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor, her stumpy tail wagging happily at all of the commotion. Her wiry blonde fur stuck out in all directions, making her look as if she had just licked an electrical outlet. She didn’t look the slightest bit ashamed of herself, which wasn’t surprising. The terrier lived for mischief.

  Autumn turned off the water and dried her hands on a clean towel. She eyed the mess on the pan. The steaks themselves looked fine, but the foil was still smoking from where the grease had caught fire. She had been trying to save herself some cleaning, and instead had almost caught her house on fire.

  “Well, at least flame-roasted steak sounds fancy,” she said. “Brandon probably won’t even notice. And the pasta salad turned out well. Now all that’s left is the dinner rolls — and dessert, of course.”

  She continued chatting to Frankie as she pulled the frozen dinner rolls out and began to line them up on a clean pan. She had always been a chatterbox, and that wasn’t something that she could just turn off when she was alone. At least having the dog there made her feel a little bit less crazy.

  The dinner that evening was important to her, and she wasn’t about to let the near-disaster with the steaks get her down. She and Brandon had been seeing each other for exactly a year. Ever since he had told her that he just wanted a quiet meal at home together for their anniversary, her dreams had been filled with the sound of wedding bells. He knew she didn’t want a public proposal. This evening together at her house would be the perfect time for the two of them to get engaged.

  In her mid-thirties, Autumn felt the pressure as her biological clock ran toward its expiration date. She wanted kids and a husband, the whole shebang. Watching her niece and nephew grow up had only made her want that life all the more. Brandon might not be the fairytale prince she had dreamed of as a child, but he was kind and responsible, and most importantly, he was interested in her.

  Autumn opened the oven to let it air out, then opened the kitchen window a crack to help her house clear of smoke. She checked the clock, then left the kitchen with Frankie at her heels. He would be here soon, and she wanted to freshen up.

  She had just finished primping her hair in the bathroom when she heard a knock at the door. Frankie took off like a bolt of lightning, barking frantically. Autumn hurried back into the kitchen and unlocked the door, welcoming Brandon in over the yapping.

  “Settle down, Frankie,” she said, exasperated. “You know who it is. Sorry, I swear she’ll get used to you eventually.”

  “It’s okay,” Brandon said as he pushed the door shut behind him. “How are you doing?”

  “Great,” she said, beaming at him. “I visited my aunt and uncle earlier, and they’re both doing well. I spent the afternoon cooking for our dinner tonight.”

  “I told you not to go to any trouble,” he said. “I just want to talk.”

  “It’s no trouble. You know I love cooking. Here, let me take your coat.”

  She brushed the snow off of it and hung it up in the little closet by the door. While he took his boots off, she cracked open the oven to check on the rolls. They were almost done.

  “Go ahead and sit down, I’ll bring the food out.”

  “Autumn, I —”

  “It’s getting cold. I put the steaks in too early, I should have cooked them last. Go on, sit down.”

  He vanished into the other room while she bustled around, putting the steaks on plates and taking the bowl of pasta salad out of the frid
ge. She carried the food out to the dining room, then returned to the kitchen for the bottle of wine she had bought earlier that day. She checked the rolls once more, but they still weren’t ready. She would just have to remember to get them out in a few minutes.

  At last, she sat down at the table across from Brandon. Smiling at him, she poured herself a glass of wine and passed the bottle to him. He put it down on the table.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I told you not to go to all of this trouble,” he said.

  “It wasn’t any trouble,” she said. “I wanted to do this. For us. Can you believe it’s already been a year?”

  He sighed. “This is exactly what I wanted to avoid.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Autumn, I told you I didn’t want to do anything for our anniversary. All I was going to do tonight was stop by, so we could talk. I didn’t know you were going to make such a big production out of all of this. It’s just making it harder.”

  She felt her stomach twist, but she forced herself to keep smiling. “Making what harder?”

  “I don’t think we should see each other anymore, Autumn. We can be friends, but that’s it. That’s all I want.”

  Autumn was floored. She had been expecting for him to propose, not… this. Things had been going well, hadn’t they? They had fun together, they never argued, they liked the same things. She had thought that he was as happy as she was.

  “Brandon, I —”

  “No, let me keep talking,” he said, interrupting her. “I want to say this before you get mad at me. I know it’s cliché, but this has nothing to do with you. It’s me. I’m just not ready for a committed relationship like this. I know that you want more, but I don’t. It isn’t fair to you if I keep leading you on. I care about you enough that I want you to be free to go and find someone who is really right for you.”