Cozy Christmas Crimes - A Cozy Christmas Box Set Page 3

  Nan, Blake, and I followed everyone back into the large, main office. I scanned the crowd and looked for Cooper, but I didn’t see him anywhere. I had hoped to question him further about what else he’d heard.

  Thirty minutes later we still leaned against the wall and waited for someone to take our statements.

  “Okay, next.” A different uniformed cop motioned us over to where he stood. “Names?”

  We each gave him our names.

  “And how is it you three came to be here tonight?” the cop asked.

  I glanced down at his name plate on his uniform. Greely. His eyes followed mine.

  “Sorry about that,” Officer Greely said. “It’s been a long night. My name’s Officer Greely, and I’ll be asking you some questions. Now, how is it you three came to be here tonight?”

  Blake informed him he worked at Staley & Thomas, and then I told him the position that I held for two weeks and that Nan was my plus one for the night.

  Officer Greely frowned. “So you worked directly with Ms. Eldemire?”

  “Yes,” I said. “Is Margaret going to be okay?”

  Officer Greely shrugged and continued writing in his notepad. “I have no information on Margaret Eldemire’s condition. But I’m sure the detective will want to speak with you since you worked directly with Ms. Eldemire.”

  I bit my lip to keep from crying. Especially when he said he was sure the detective in charge would want to speak to me personally.

  Chapter 4

  “I hope they don’t frisk us,” Nan said as she drummed her fingertips annoyingly on Margaret’s desk.

  Officer Greely had escorted the three of us into Margaret’s office and told us the detective in charge would be with us shortly. That was twenty minutes ago.

  I was tired, had a massive headache, and just wanted to go home and go to bed. The way Blake paced back and forth, I’d say he was in the same boat.

  “How many weapons do you have on you?” I asked. I wouldn’t be surprised by her answer, I just hope Blake’s heart could take the shock.

  Nan patted down her body. “I’d say only five or six. Maybe seven.”

  Blake stopped pacing and looked incredulously at Nan. “You have six weapons on you? Where? In your purse?”

  Nan grinned and stood. I groaned because I knew this meant Nan would all but strip for Blake. “A couple are in my purse, yes, but most are on my body. I have a derringer strapped to my side. Just unzip the side zipper and unleash!” She pulled back the unzipped material to show Blake before zipping it back up. She then wiggled and squirmed until she had the hem of her mini-dress up to nearly her unmentionable to show him her thigh-strapped knife. “This one takes a little more finesse to get out, unless I want to give everyone a nice little show.”

  Blake’s mouth dropped open, and the blush on his cheeks told me he hadn’t been able to look away fast enough.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I can’t take her anywhere.”

  Ignoring us, Nan went on. “Then I have my jewelry weapons. They aren’t as deadly, but they’ll do in a pinch. Trust me.” She reached up and grabbed hold of her necklace. “This isn’t really a three-inch pendant. See.” She yanked on the bottom of the pendant and out popped a skinny blade. “Then this flower ring here. It’s gaudy, right? Well, it could just save your life. If you pop off the flower, you have a nice little thumbtack-like blade that can cut up a perp’s face if he goes to attack you.”

  She made a lunge toward Blake. Laughing, he held up his hands and backed away.

  Nan dumped out her purse on the table. “Then, of course, I have another bladed knife here.” She held up what looked like a lipstick container, but when she pulled the fake lid off, a four-inch blade emerged. “Plus there’s the normal stuff like mace in here, too.”

  Blake shook his head. “Wow. That’s quite impressive.”

  “That’s nothing. I also have weapons I can keep in my shoes, but even I can’t seem to find a weapon to conceal in these strappy high heels. Plus, I have a couple different palm knives.”

  Blake whistled. “Now I know you have to meet my grandfather.”

  Nan made a rude sound with her mouth. “I already told you…I don’t want no old man.”

  “Nan!” I hissed. “Be nice.”

  Blake grinned at me. “It’s okay. Wait until she meets him. Her tune will change.”

  I didn’t want to think of my Nan seeing this man’s grandfather. Mainly because it would mean I’d have to see Blake again at some point, and right now I didn’t think I wanted that. Blake Wellington was not my normal cup of tea.

  The door to Margaret’s office flew open and the detective stormed in. Nan scrambled to put her weapons away as the detective turned and shut the door. His five o’clock shadow was pretty much a thin beard by now, his eyes were bloodshot, and he seemed to have lost his smile about five years ago.

  “My name’s Detective Carlson.” He glanced down at his notepad. “Most of my questions will be for a Miss Adkins.” His hard, gray eyes stared at me. “I assume that’s you?”

  I nodded but didn’t say anything. I was too scared. Blake came and stood behind my chair and slid his hand on my shoulder.

  Detective Carlson led me through a string of questions I’d already answered for Officer Greely. Then he went in for the kill.

  “Did you make the cake that Margaret Eldemire ate prior to her fall?”

  I swallowed hard. “Yes. I told her last week I’d bake her a special cake that was low calorie and low carb so she could enjoy tonight’s party. She’d recently lost forty-five pounds and didn’t want to sabotage her success.”

  I knew I was rambling, but I couldn’t help it.

  Detective Carlson continued to write in his notebook without looking up. “I have countless witness statements saying Margaret had complained of a severe stomach ache from the cake she ate right before she fell.”

  I nodded my head but looked frantically at Nan. She gave me a hard look that said I needed to pull myself together. I swallowed hard. “I’m aware of that, too.”

  “What was in your cake?” Detective Carlson asked.

  I went through my list of ingredients as he continued to write.

  “And what made you decide on pink icing?” Detective Carlson interrupted.

  When I didn’t answer right away, the detective looked up from his notepad. He must have seen the surprise on my face.

  “There was a glob of pink frosting left on the plate. We bagged it for evidence.”

  “Oh,” I said. “Actually, it was pink and white frosting. And Margaret asked me to do it.”

  Detective Carlson nodded. “So Margaret personally told you to make her a diet cake with pink and white icing?”

  “Well, no. Not personally told me,” I said. “Margaret sent me an email yesterday and asked me to decorate it with lots of pink and white fluffy icing.”

  Detective Carlson’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do you still have the email?”

  I nodded. “Well, yeah. I’m sure it’s in my mailbox. Do you want it?”

  “Yes. Before you leave tonight, I need you to print it off and give it to me or another officer.”

  “Of course.” I knew I should add to my statement about the frosting. I just wasn’t sure what to say. “But there was—I mean, something didn’t seem…” I trailed off and Blake squeezed my shoulder.

  For the first time, Detective Carlson’s gray eyes met mine. “Something what? Something seemed off about the cake?”

  I nodded. “Yeah. The frosting really. I noticed it when I was talking with Margaret. Something was wrong with the frosting. It didn’t look right. It looked all powdery. Like the consistency had changed.”

  Detective Carlson stared at me so long, I couldn’t help but squirm. Which I knew was a bad sign. Finally the detective looked back down at his notes. “You work with a Marc Mallard, correct?”

  I blinked in surprise at the sudden change of topic. “Yes, I do.”

  “Did you ever work excl
usively for him?”

  I shook my head. “No. I worked for Margaret.”

  “Did you speak to Mr. Mallard outside of work?”

  I scoffed. “No. I don’t even really—I mean, he’s not someone I’d hang around.”

  Detective Carlson glanced down at his notes again. “And what about a Tanya Clover? Do you know Tanya Clover, Miss Adkins?”

  I frowned and barely held back a wince when Blake’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “No. I can’t say I do. But I only worked here for two weeks. I’m better with faces than names.”

  Detective Carlson gave me a tight smile. “I’ve been informed by the owners of the company that Tanya Clover hasn’t worked here for almost a month. I doubt you would have seen her at Staley & Thomas.”

  “Okay,” I said.

  “So do you know Tanya Clover?” Detective Carlson asked again.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so. Her name doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “I know Tanya Clover,” Blake said.

  Detective Carlson frowned and waved his pen back and forth between Blake and me. “And are you and Miss Adkins in a relationship?”

  I gasped. “No! I just met Mr. Wellington tonight. I don’t even know him that well.”

  Detective Carlson turned to Blake. “But you remember Tanya Clover from when she worked here?”

  Blake nodded solemnly. “Yes. And, yes, I also remember the last thing she said before she walked out the door.”

  “What?” I practically cried. “What did she say? I’m so confused about everything.”

  Blake squeezed my shoulder gently again. “She basically threatened to find a way to kill Margaret.”

  “There you go!” I cried. “There’s your murder suspect. Her and Marc Mallard. He’s been running around here threatening Margaret and Linda Sellars all night. Oh, and he threatened Blake.”

  Blake nodded. “That’s right. Marc had a bone to pick with Margaret.”

  “Did you put Marc down on your list of suspects?” I asked.

  Detective Carlson ignored my question. “So, Miss Adkins, you’re telling me you’ve never been in contact with Tanya Clover or Marc Mallard outside of the work environment?”

  “Is there a reason you’re asking my granddaughter these questions?” Nan asked sharply.

  Detective Carlson stared at Nan coldly. “I was informed you were in the workroom performing CPR on the deceased. Are you a nurse or doctor? Or did you just decide to enter the room and perform CPR on the body?”

  Nan’s nostrils flared. “I’m retired now. But I’ve been in the medical field longer than you’ve been alive.”

  Detective Carlson’s eyes narrowed at Nan’s jab. “So you might be able to recognize foul play when you see it?”

  Nan shrugged but didn’t say anything.

  Tears filled my eyes. “What’s going on? I don’t understand.”

  Detective Carlson gave me a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’m just trying to get a clear picture of what went on here tonight. Get an idea of why someone would want to murder Margaret Eldemire.”

  I gasped. “Murder? What makes you think she was murdered? She just fell.”

  “Who put the cake in the workroom tonight?” Detective Carlson asked, ignoring my outburst.

  Once again I was frustrated by the sudden change in topic. “I did. Well, I mean I took it to the workroom and Margaret moved some desserts around so there would be room for her cake.”

  “Besides yourself, who else had access to the cake before Margaret ate it? Do you know?”

  I shrugged. “I guess anyone. Anyone who’d been in the workroom, at least.”

  Detective Carlson flipped his notepad closed. “Who knew you brought the cake tonight besides Margaret? Anyone else?”

  “I don’t know,” I said angrily. “Margaret put my name down on the sign-up sheet last week stating I would bake her a special cake.”

  Detective Carlson didn’t say anything for a full twenty seconds…he just looked from me to Blake to Nan to back at me. “That’s all the questions I have now, Miss Adkins. If I need you for further questioning, I’ll have you come down to the station.”

  My pulse kicked up a notch and sweat popped out all over my body. If I didn’t know better, I’d think Detective Carlson had just informed me I was a murder suspect.

  Chapter 5

  Nan was texting on her phone the next morning when she shuffled into the kitchen in a pair of elf pajamas. I knew better than to carry on a full conversation with her in the mornings until she had a cup of coffee.

  “Okay.” Nan laid her phone on the counter and took her first gulp of hot coffee. “I have just agreed that you and I will meet up tonight around nine with Blake and his grandfather for drinks at O’Malley’s.”

  “What? No! I have nothing in common with Blake. I don’t even really like him.”

  Nan snorted. “Liar.”

  “I don’t feel right partying when Margaret just died.”

  Nan rolled her eyes. “You didn’t know the woman that well. What’s your next excuse?”

  I sighed. I knew there would be no way around the ridiculous hook up. “Fine, I’ll go. But first I need to stop by Tanya Clover’s place. See if she can give me some insight into any of this.”

  Nan frowned then took another sip of her coffee. “Do you think that’s wise? Didn’t Blake say last night that she threatened Margaret’s life?”

  “I think it’s wise because that detective made it sound like I’m a suspect. Like either I was in cahoots with this Tanya Clover woman or Marc Mallard.”

  “I should probably go with you,” Nan said.

  “No!”

  Nan looked at me sharply. She wasn’t used to me telling her no, and she obviously didn’t like it.

  “I can do this on my own,” I said. “I won’t be gone that long. I’ll call Tanya and see if I can stop by.”

  Nan sighed. “Fine. But this morning we find you something decent to wear tonight. Obviously Blake is into you if he’s willing to overlook your funeral dress last night and still date you tonight.”

  “Ha ha. Very funny.”

  Nan grinned and poured herself another cup of coffee. She opened the cupboard and pulled down a bottle of Irish cream. “Something tells me I’ll need this after I see your dismal wardrobe.”

  I said nothing as we shuffled off to my bedroom. Mainly because I knew Nan was right.

  It only took five minutes to lay all my clothes out, but it took another hour before Nan finally picked an outfit. I had no idea I could mix and match my clothes so many different ways.

  Relieved I could finally get my day started, I decided not to call Tanya. I thought taking her by surprise would work best for me. I Googled her address and jumped in the shower.

  By the time I drove through Piper Springs, it was almost eleven. Piper Springs isn’t all that big when you compare it to Topeka, Kansas City, or Olathe. We’re just a medium-sized town of about twenty-five thousand people situated off Hwy 73. I’ve lived here since Nan took me in. It’s a great place to grow up…parades on major holidays, enough community entertainment for kids and adults, and even though it has a small-town feel, it’s still big enough you could go days without recognizing someone.

  I slowed down to a snail’s pace to check out the numbers on the mailboxes. When I found the right address, I pulled into the driveway and shut off my car. Tanya’s place was a modest two-story wooden house with a wide front porch big enough for a porch swing, rocking chair, and side table. A big inflatable Santa was staked in her front yard.

  By the time I hit the porch stairs, the front door opened. Leaning casually against the door jamb, a middle-aged woman with straight, copper hair and matching glasses stared me down. “If you’re selling something, I’m not interested.”

  “No, ma’am. I came to talk with you about Margaret Eldemire.”

  Tanya scowled. “You’re too late. The police just left.”

  My brow furrowed. “Too late?”


  She pushed herself off the door jamb. “Yeah. Aren’t you with the police?”

  “No. My name is Amanda Adkins, and I worked for two weeks as Margaret’s administrative assistant while her regular girl was away.” I watched Tanya’s face for any trace of guilt. Not that I really thought she had somehow sneaked into the party and killed Margaret, but since I was running on fear of being arrested, I would accept any theory as to how Tanya could have killed Margaret.

  Tanya scowled. “I’ve already spoken with the police. I don’t have to talk with you.”

  She moved to slam the door in my face, so I lurched forward and shoved my foot in the doorframe. “Please. I’ll only take a minute of your time.”

  Tanya hesitated a moment longer before she pushed her door open. “Come in. But only for a few minutes.”

  “Thank you!”

  Tanya held up the coffee cup in her hand. “I have some Sugar Plum Spiced Tea on the stove for the holidays. Would you like a cup?”

  “That would be great.”

  I followed her through her front room and around the back of the house to the kitchen. “I love your wooden floors. Are they original or did you recently put them in?”

  “I put the hardwood in about two years ago. They’re made to look old and authentic.”

  I nodded. “You succeeded.”

  Tanya gave a small laugh and motioned for me to sit down on a barstool. She reached inside a cupboard, pulled out a Christmas mug, and poured me what was left in the kettle.

  I blew on the tea, and a pleasant smell of cinnamon and clove assailed me…along with a slight hint of sweet fruit. “I love this smell.”

  “It’s my favorite around the holidays.” Tanya leaned against the counter, mug still warming her hands. “Now, what can I do for you, Miss Adkins?”

  I took a tentative sip then set the mug down. “I know you said you already spoke with the police, but I wanted to ask you a couple of my own questions.”

  “Why?”

  I bit my lip and looked away. I wasn’t sure how much I should tell her. I decided to play it semi-straight. “I made the cake that the police think may have somehow killed Margaret.”