Read Jolly Dead St. Nicholas Online

Authors: Carol A. Guy

Tags: #Christmas, #Cozy Mystery, #Holiday, #Suspense

Jolly Dead St. Nicholas (16 page)

BOOK: Jolly Dead St. Nicholas
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For some reason the detached, almost icy tone of her voice sent a chill up Adelaide’s spine.

Rising, Fran picked up one of the smaller sealed boxes. She walked to the door connecting the garage to the house and opened it. Adelaide put her mug on the coffee table next to Fran’s, following the woman. That was when Adelaide got another surprise. The garage was full of boxes. She could plainly see that many of them were sealed with tape that looked curled up at the edges, as though they’d been that way for a while. The large words scrawled across the sides—
Living Room, Dining Room, Kitchen
—were sun faded.

Fran must have noticed Adelaide’s expression because she said, “I never fully unpacked when we moved here. I didn’t see any sense. I intended to pressure Douglas into asking for a new pastorate as soon as possible.” She turned, brushing passed Adelaide as she re-entered the living room.

Adelaide stepped inside and closed the door. “Were you that unhappy here?”

“Of course I was. How could anyone miss that? Douglas seemed oblivious to my feelings, of course. I know how people talked behind my back. I often overheard snatches of conversations that were very hurtful. This is a town full of gossipmongers and backstabbers. I’m surprised I lasted a year here.”

Adelaide stared at the woman, feeling a sudden rush of sympathy for her. “I never intended—”

Fran stopped her words with a wave of her hand. “I’m not talking about you, Adelaide. You were always very kind to me. You treated me with the utmost respect. I appreciate that more than you’ll ever know.” She picked up the tray from the coffee table and left the room.

When she didn’t return after a few moments, Adelaide followed. She found Fran sitting at the kitchen table, crying.

“I’m so sorry, Fran. For everything you’ve been through here. Is there anything I can do for you?” Adelaide laid a hand on the woman’s shoulder.

Fran got slowly to her feet. She wiped away her tears. “Just let me get back to my packing. I want most of the small things boxed up before Douglas gets home. The moving people are coming first thing in the morning.”

Adelaide felt a pang of worry. “Will you be all right here tonight?”

“My brother Alex is on his way from Columbus. He should be here any minute. He’s going to stay the night with me, then help out tomorrow.”

Adelaide wondered where Douglas fit into this picture. “Have you told Douglas you’re leaving?”

“Alex and I will talk to him about that.” She looked at the clock, probably hoping Alex got here before Douglas arrived home.

The doorbell rang. Fran breathed an audible sigh of relief as she rushed into the living room. Adelaide followed close behind, figuring it was the brother, since Douglas would hardly ring the bell. She could see she was right. Fran was in the doorway embracing a burly man who looked to be in his mid-forties. He had thick brown hair and alert green eyes. The nicely shaped mustache on his upper lip was just a shade darker than his hair.

Adelaide grabbed her coat and quickly slipped it on. Fran didn’t bother introducing her to the man. As brother and sister moved into the living room, holding hands, Adelaide let herself out, closing the door as she went.

 

Chapter Seventeen

 

 

Adelaide called her son’s cell phone number the minute she left the parsonage. He answered on the second ring. It was almost four o’clock. “Is Douglas still there?”

“He just left, why?” Daniel sounded a little short tempered.

“I need to see you now.”

“Come to the station. By the way I just got a call from Mary Ellen Oliver. She’s coming in to talk to me shortly. Any idea what that’s about?”

“It’s probably best if she tells you herself. I think she wants me there though,” she told him before hanging up.

Adelaide made a detour by her house to pick up some blueberry muffins she had in the freezer. She put them on a plate and popped them in the microwave to thaw, then put them in a covered plastic container. She walked the block to the police station through two additional inches of new-fallen snow. It was still coming down at a good clip. She surmised the prediction of four more inches might be a conservative estimate.

Since it was Sunday, the city offices were closed. Only the police station on the left side of the building’s main hallway was a hubbub of activity. She’d arrived just after shift change, so officers were coming and going. She made a beeline for Daniel’s office. He was on the phone, so she put the muffins on his desk, then went to the kitchenette next to his office to get him a cup of coffee and herself some hot tea. When she returned to his office he was off the phone, eating one of the warm muffins.

“You look tired, Mother,” he commented between bites.

“You look tired also, my son,” she countered.

He smiled and took a sip of the coffee. “Okay, what’s up?”

She told him about her visit to Susan. “She claims she spent the afternoon with Douglas.”

“Where?” Daniel had stopped eating. Now he was making notes on a yellow legal pad.

“Some special spot they frequented, out beyond Wrigley’s I think.” She stopped short of telling him about Mary Ellen’s revelation.

“When he was questioned on Saturday evening he said he was with Fran and she backed him up. Then earlier today she came in to recant, claiming she didn’t know where he was yesterday afternoon.”

Adelaide nodded. “I visited Fran after I talked with Susan. She told me she’d lied for Douglas then came here to tell you the truth.”

Daniel sat back, exhaling slowly. “So, maybe Susan and Underwood were together. He probably didn’t want to admit it because he was still trying to keep the affair a secret.”

She could tell he wasn’t convinced. “Susan claims she broke it off with Douglas that afternoon.”

“Do you believe her?”

Adelaide shook her head. “No, I don’t.”

“She showed up here with Mark Cardosa. He’s representing her.”

“I know. She told me. I think she bowed to some family pressure there. But in view of the way things are looking, it might not be a bad idea.”

Daniel suddenly stood up, looking out through the glass partition. “There’s Mary Ellen Oliver.” He signaled for her to join them.

Adelaide turned around just as the librarian came into the office. She acted very nervous as she took the chair next to Adelaide’s. She didn’t remove her coat and fidgeted with the small leather purse on her lap.

When she finally spoke, her voice was tremulous. “I thought about it, over and over. I decided instead of making the chief come to my place I should come right in here to make my statement. I’m so glad you’re here, though, Adelaide.”

Adelaide patted the woman’s hand. “Just tell Daniel what you saw.”

Daniel glanced between the two of them, a look of bemused curiosity on his face. “Okay, what’s this all about?”

Slowly, Mary Ellen told about sighting Douglas Underwood and Susan Hatfield driving west on State Route 550 out of town. She pinpointed the exact date—two weeks before. “It just seemed so odd. I mean it was a Thursday evening, she should have been at choir practice. I know it lasts from seven to eight-thirty, same as ours. I’m not in our choir, of course. Can’t carry a tune. But I do know the schedule. They were in her car, the blue Honda. They looked very…cozy in the front seat.”

Daniel called to Ken Lafferty, one of the younger officers on the force who was filling out some paperwork at his desk. As he entered the office he nodded a greeting Adelaide’s way. Originally from Rosewood, Ken was tall and muscular with thick black hair and cobalt blue eyes.

“Show Miss Oliver to one of the vacant desks, Ken. She needs to write out her statement,” Daniel directed. He turned his attention to Mary Ellen. “Officer Lafferty will get you set up out in the squad room. Just write down what you told me, then sign and date it. Thanks for coming in.”

Mary Ellen smiled at him, then gave Adelaide a grateful look. She followed Ken Lafferty from the office, clutching her purse to her chest.

Once Mary Ellen was out of earshot, Daniel said, “I’m more convinced than ever that those two conspired to kill her husband so they could be together. Problem is, we have no real proof. We need to find that murder weapon.”

“It could be anywhere, you know.”

“We’re not even sure exactly what it was, but the ME says the blade was flat and thin. The wound track in Hatfield’s neck was three inches deep, but from the shape of the wound he thinks the blade could be longer. Anything come to mind?”

Adelaide’s mind felt fuzzy. She was just too tired to think clearly right now. “Not offhand.”

“I even had two officers searching the alleys, looking in garbage cans that were in plain sight, but no dice. There wasn’t a can sitting out in the alley behind the parsonage, either.”

“I believe they keep it in the tool shed behind the house until pickup day, which is Monday afternoon in that neighborhood.”

“Well, we’re applying for search warrants. With any luck by tomorrow morning we can begin serving them.”

“Don’t forget to include their cars in the scope of the warrant,” she reminded him.

Daniel smiled. “Cars are included, believe me. I’m certain the weapon is gone by now, but we have to do something. Officers have started re-interviewing the people who were at the bazaar yesterday. We’re hoping someone will recall something important. We’re also talking to Jerry’s clients to see if anyone had a grudge for any reason.”

“Where did you get the list of clients?” Adelaide was pretty sure that information was supposed to be kept confidential.

“We persuaded the secretary to print it off.”

Adelaide wasn’t really friends with Marsha Burns, the woman who worked in the Hatfield insurance office. She knew she lived in Rosewood and was single. Since Adelaide usually just dropped her premium in the slot in the insurance office door each month, she had very little contact with the woman. “I don’t imagine Susan will be happy when she finds out Marsha gave out that information.”

“I don’t think Ms. Burns cares. There’s no love lost there. Anyhow, she thinks she’ll be out of a job very soon.”

Adelaide thought about that for a moment. “Surely Susan will keep the office open. She has to have some source of income.”

Daniel smiled. “Oh, I think that three-million-dollar life insurance policy will do her just fine. If she’s not convicted of her husband’s murder, that is.”

Adelaide’s mouth fell open.

“Another tidbit of info from Ms. Burns,” Daniel said. “Also we’re hoping we can get something incriminating off their computers. Unless the hard drives have been erased. Then it could be tougher.”

“There are computer experts who can retrieve erased files, Daniel.”

“Oh, we have one of those
experts
standing by.”

Adelaide wasn’t sure who he was talking about. “You could ask for the FBI’s help in that regard.”

Daniel said, “Who needs the FBI when we’ve got Alex Shane? He will be the one reviewing those computers when we get our hands on them.”

Adelaide felt her stomach drop. She recalled how Daniel had gone to bat for the teenager when he’d been caught hacking into the library’s mainframe, where he erased all of the overdue book fines. “He can’t do that. He’s on probation.”

“He’s working on the side of truth, justice and the American way, now. It’s part of the deal.” Daniel took another muffin. “What else did Susan Hatfield have to say?”

Adelaide knew she’d get no more out of Daniel about Alex Shane or his role in police matters. The subject was closed. “Susan told me the affair with Douglas began while he was counseling her because of marital problems.”

Daniel seemed very interested in this. “So, the Hatfields were having problems before Underwood got into the mix?”

Adelaide nodded. “She said he was jealous of her, always accusing her of flirting with other men. She wanted them both to go for counseling but he refused, so she went alone.”

Daniel glanced at his watch again.

“Do you have somewhere else to be, Daniel?” Adelaide stood up to go. She wanted to get home so she could put her feet up. A relaxing evening sounded very good right now.

Daniel looked a little sheepish. “Brenda’s cooking a special dinner tonight. She even bought some expensive wine. She says I need some TLC after what has happened.”

Adelaide suspected part of that TLC would be Brenda staying the night again. Well, they were obviously good for each other, so she was happy for her son.

As Adelaide left the police station she waved to Mary Ellen, who was still sitting at one of the desks meticulously writing out her statement.

 

* * * *

 

Reverend Douglas Underwood felt his stomach clench as he pulled up in front of the parsonage. After the awful interview with the police, he’d gone to the one place in town where he could not only lose himself in the crowd of sightseers, but feel just a modicum of peace—the falls.

The exquisite display of lights illuminating the cascading water nearly took his breath away, especially with the snow falling all around. Further down a walking path was an elaborate nativity scene with life-size figures. In a small clearing surrounded by snow-covered fir trees sat a quaint looking cottage the size of a child’s playhouse. It was adorned inside and out with multi-colored lights as well as other decorations. Through the front window you could see a lighted Christmas tree. Further into the room a fake fireplace bathed the entire scene in a yellow glow, giving the impression of warmth. Figures representing a father, mother and two children were sitting on a chintz covered sofa. The father held a book open, as though reading a story. On the hearth, a small dog lay snoozing.

He’d walked through the dozens of illuminated displays, listening to the visitors’ excited exclamations as they came upon one surprise after another. A live petting zoo was at the end of one path. He’d stood for a while watching as gleeful children interact with the various animals. Horse-drawn sleighs provided scenic rides over snow-covered trails. The air was chilly and damp with the aroma of pine and roasting chestnuts adding to the ambience. All in all, he’d found the experience as relaxing as anything could be at this time in his life.

BOOK: Jolly Dead St. Nicholas
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