Murder on the First Day of Christmas (Chloe Carstairs Mysteries) (39 page)

     My sister
didn’t bother to read the signature. She didn’t have to.

    
“Nice going, Mom,” I said. “Now Dad will have to join the witness protection program, all because some gangster has the hots for you.”

    
“The hots?” Mom sent me a withering glance. “What kind of talk is that?”

    
Dad only laughed. “I’m not going anywhere. Tony Trianos can send all the gifts he wants. I’ve got a pretty big head start on wooing your mother.”

    
Mom gave him a kiss. “No competition.”

    
I snuck a peek at Jacob, hoping my parents’ affection might be contagious. I couldn’t have explained why, but I had a feeling we’d turned a corner in our relationship.

    
He had given me an iPod for Christmas, preloaded with all of my favorite songs, and it wasn’t the Mini either, which hinted at deeper love and lasting commitment. Jacob gave me a little smile as if he could read my thoughts, and I smiled back.

    
Oh, yeah. His days were numbered.

    
From now on, I’d be relentless. I’d be fearless. I’d be…Mom. It was the one thing I hadn’t tried. I’d grown up complaining about my mother’s brand of sugar-coated manipulation, but now that I was grown up I had to admit that it worked.

    
I would just have to be patient and let my natural charm do its work, but Jacob needed to say some things and I needed to hear some things besides the voices in my head.

    
We cleaned up the breakfast dishes and were making plans for seeing a movie before church when the doorbell rang a second time.

    
“It’s Grand Central around here,” I said, going to answer it.

    
“Merry Christmas Eve,” said McGowan.

    
I smiled. “Back atcha.”

    
“I don’t want to interrupt the festivities, but I thought maybe you guys could use this.” He handed me a bottle of champagne - the good stuff.

    
“Thanks. And if you’ve got any more cases you’d like us to work on…”

    
“Not likely.” But he smiled back at me.

    
“Tell Jacob to give me a call about that scrimmage.”  Given my luck with men, I hadn’t been surprised to learn that my boyfriend and McGowan played soccer in the same league. I’d have to start going to the games again. You know me and soccer players.

    
“I’ll do that.”

    
Suddenly McGowan leaned in and kissed me. Very innocently. On the cheek.

    
“Mistletoe.” He pointed at the greenery over the door.

    
“Actually, that’s holly, but close enough.”

    
“Merry Christmas, Chloe.”

    
“You, too.” Yankee.

    
Later, when my mother and I were alone, packing away the silver in the dining room, I gave her a hug. “We did it.”

    
“Of course, we did. Was there ever any doubt?”

    
We laughed, knowing there had been. Lots of them. But there had been lots of surprises, too. Like how well our differences worked for us, for a change.

    
I hadn’t felt threatened by the poised and pragmatic side of my mother that was so unlike me, and she hadn’t despaired at the emotional, impulsive streak she saw in me. We now appreciated and respected our differences.

    
Respected them. For the first time, I felt the beginnings of a friendship with her - the kind adult women have. The kind she and Bridget have had as long as I can remember.

    
Apparently, her thoughts had been running along the same lines.

    
“You know.” Mom smiled. “I’m not sure this retirement thing is working out so well. I’ve enjoyed being busy the past couple of months and might want to return to work - not full time, but select projects here and there.”

    
“I think you should.” I rubbed a silver knife and placed it back in its case. “Your clients would be thrilled.”

    
“I’d need a partner. Someone with a good eye and loads of talent. Someone I would enjoy working with.” She saw my blank look.  “A daughter, perhaps.”

    
I frowned, wondering where Bridget would find time to do interior design with her crazy nursing schedule and Lily.

    
“You, Chloe. I mean you.” With some effort, she fixed a patient look on her face.

    
I was surprised by her offer and strangely flattered.

    
But…

    
“I don’t know. Would you be the boss?” Negotiating curtains wouldn’t be any easier than negotiating curfews.

    
“Partner. You would have your projects, and I’d have mine. Occasionally, we would collaborate if you think that we could.”

    “I think this last month proves we can. Pretty well, in fact. So, yeah. Partners.”

    
She picked up a silver fork I had placed in the box and gave it another polish. “Now, Chloe, about those panties.”

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A Special Treat for You!

From

Annie Acorn

Writing as

Charlotte Kent

A Clue for Adrianna

Chapter One

     Viewing the tarmac beneath her, Adrianna Montgomery could see Chicago’s Midway Airport’s ground crew loading last minute luggage and truly relaxed for the first time since her arrival home to her condo in Seattle the previous evening.

     “Is this seat taken?” a shy, cultured voice asked from the aisle to her right.

     Turning, she found herself looking into a pair of worried blue eyes.  Reflexively, she straightened the seat belt and lowered the arm that would separate them as she replied, “No, it’s free.  Help yourself.”

     “Thank you.”  The elderly woman joined her.  “I don’t often fly, and I’ve been dreading hours spent aloft beside a crying child.”  With the toe of a tiny shoe, the newcomer pushed a large patent leather handbag beneath the forward seat before fastening her seatbelt.

     A light fragrance of honeysuckle wafted its way towards Adrianna, reminiscent of early childhood summers spent playing in the gazebo behind her great-aunt’s seaside mansion, breezes blowing off the Atlantic lifting her dark curls.  Despite her parents having left her behind as they had traveled the world in search of archeological treasure, those had been happy times.

     But then, she had grown old enough to accompany them, and the summer visits had ended.  As promised, she had written to her great-aunt of her travels, her childish script filling pages with stories of her adventures – a camel ride in Egypt, a mosaic at a dig in Turkey, a Minoan vase her mother had uncovered on a Greek isle – the list had gone on and on.

     “My name’s Edwina Foster.” Her traveling companion broke through her thoughts. “I’m flying to visit my grandson and his wife.”

     “This trip is strictly business for me,” Adrianna replied.

     “Actually, it’s more than a visit.” The blue eyes now twinkled. “They’re in their mid-thirties, and Ginny is expecting their first child.  Jason has to attend a long conference in New York and didn’t want to leave his wife alone this close to her due date.  They’ve just moved to Captain’s Point, Maryland, and haven’t had time to make friends.”

     “Captain’s Point?”

     “Do you know it?  I hear it’s lovely.”

     “I haven’t been there for any length of time since I was seven – almost twenty years ago, but I liked it back then.  The town was full of little shops, but my favorite memory is of looking for shells on the beach.”

     With a start, Adrianna realized she had just lied.  Her favorite memory had nothing to do with the beach, but rather with the wind-tossed woods behind the giant house.

     One day during the early part of her last summer visit, she had found an old butterfly net stuffed between the croquet sticks and badminton racquets that were stored in a deep closet beneath the staircase. Not wanting to disturb her great-aunt’s pre-dinner nap, she had gone outside to play with it, neglecting to tell the housekeeper where she was going.  Happily chasing a bevy of yellow and white butterflies, she had left the manicured lawn and entered the cool quiet of the woods.

     Other paths covered in pine needles had crossed, joined and then separated from the one that she had followed, and as the sun had set, she had realized that she was lost.  A twig had snapped sharply somewhere behind her, and she had started to run, her way partially revealed through the leaves of the trees by a full moon rising overhead.  Inevitably, she had tripped on a root and fallen to her knees, her right one striking the corner of a sharp pebble as she had let out a cry.

     “Who is it?”  A voice had called out up ahead.

     “Adrianna,” she had responded, forgetting her great-aunt’s careful instructions about speaking with strangers.

     “Stay where you are,” the voice had commanded.  “I’m coming.”

     A light rounded the bend ahead and came towards her, at first blocking her view of the boy who was carrying it.  “What are you doing out here?”  He had dropped a backpack onto the ground.  “Miss Martha will be fit to be tied.”

     “You know my great-aunt?”

     “Everyone knows Martha Montgomery.” He had shrugged, calmly pulling a first aid kit from his pack and cleaning the cut on her knee with water from a Boy Scout canteen.  “These woods aren’t safe at night for a little girl.”

     “You’re here,” she had pointed out.

     “But I’m older, and besides, I’m collecting specimens for my merit badge.”

     At the time, she hadn’t known what a merit badge was, but it had sounded important.  Silently, she had watched as he had applied an adhesive bandage to the cut by the light of his flashlight.

     “I’ll walk you back.”  He had held out his hand, and she had taken it gladly.

     As the aircraft’s engines roared to life, Edwina’s voice broke through Adrianna’s long ago memories.  “I’m sure I wasn’t the first person my grandson called on, but still, it’s nice to be needed,” Edwina admitted.

     “I know they’ll appreciate your help,” she assured her traveling companion.

     Turning towards the window, Adrianna watched as the runway flashed by, wondering if she had ever been needed by anyone – certainly not by her bright, shining parents, who had left her at a Swiss finishing school just two weeks before they had plunged to their deaths from one of the infamous curves
along the Amalfi coast.  And yet, here she was, flying from one end of the country to the other in response to two letters – one that had been more a command than a request and one that had broken her heart.

↓

Another Special Treat for You!

From

Annie Acorn

Murder with My Darling

Chapter One

     “Hi!  Have a seat.  I’ve been waiting for you forever.  Where have you been?”

     So began my conversation with my Chunk of Hunk, Dave Crockett, the courageous and bold sheriff of Missing County, Tennessee, on that fateful morning about which I have decided to tell you.

     Yeah, I know, his name’s kind of weird, but with a face like his, he can get by on it.  Thick black wavy hair, deep blue eyes, and a dimple in each chin – all coming at you from atop a drop dead gorgeous body, and you’ve just about got him.

     Me?

     Why, Sugar, thanks for asking.  I’m a blonde, but the shade depends on which month we’re in.  This month it’s Golden Tiger. Yrraaah!

     What?  Did I scare you?  Now, I didn’t mean to do that.  Please, forgive me.  Now, where were we?

     Oh, yeah, Dave had just managed to amble his way into the Coffee Mug down on Main Street, where I had been waiting for at least twenty minutes.  Well, okay, maybe it was ten, but then, I had known he was going to be late - everyone in town did.

     Having just fished Johnny Brown’s body from the big fishing pool down on Possum Creek, Dave was sure to be having a rather long conversation with the coroner.

     Since Nick Jones, Missing County’s Coroner, also owns the local sporting goods store and deer hunting season was just two days away, well, you get my drift.  Those two guys were sure to talk hunting of more than one kind – deer hunting as well as Dave’s hunt for a murderer.

     Yes, I said murderer, because that is what my drop dead Chunk of Hunk was going to have to go after first.  The bullet hole right smack dab in the middle of Johnny Brown’s skull had made that much pretty clear.