Murder in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (17 page)

We met on the wooden footbridge to talk.

I called him several times and sent text messages and even stopped by his house, but heard nothing for days.

Then, out of the blue, he responded to one of my text messages. He wanted to meet.

I couldn’t get out of the shop until late. The sun was on the horizon by the time we got to the footbridge, and the whole world seemed to turn an ominous shade of red as the day died.

I was nervous. It felt like a handful of rocks were in my stomach, bumping into one another as I walked.

I pulled my down jacket tighter around my body.

I saw him from a distance. He was leaning over the wooden railing, looking down at the frozen river.

“We used to fish off this bridge, my brother and me when we were kids,” he said as I came up to him. “We used to come home with a string full of trout.”

“Listen, Daniel,” I said, my voice shaking. “Thanks for everything you did. For saving me. I’m pretty sure I’d be behind bars right now if it wasn’t for you.”

Daniel shook his head.

“They would of figured it out eventually,” he said. “But how long it would have taken, I don’t know. The sheriff’s not the brightest color in the crayon box.”

I forced a smile.

“No he isn’t.”

“It sounds like this might ruin his chances for reelection,” Daniel said. “The whole country saw his IQ level with this case.”

“Well, it’d be good to get some fresh blood around here,” I said, feeling more and more like we were just making meaningless small talk to replace the things that we really wanted to say. “It’s always good not to let things get too stale.”

He nodded and didn’t say anything more.

I took a deep breath and let out everything I’d wanted to say to him since that day at the Gingerbread Junction.

“What you saw the other day, between me and Evan? It didn’t mean anything, Daniel. I don’t love Evan. I don’t even like him. He’s a bad person. It’s taken me all this time to realize it, but he’s a really bad person. I don’t want someone like that in my life. I want someone like…”

I trailed off. I couldn’t finish the thought for some reason.

There was an awkward silence where he left me hanging like I was one of those trout on his fishing line. We both looked out at the frozen river. A group of ducks were sliding across the ice.

“Do you know why I came back home to Christmas River? Why I really came back home?” he asked.

I looked over at him and shook my head.

“Seventeen years ago I went to California to become a cop and look for my brother’s killer,” he said, leaning against the railing. “It was a convenience store robbery, and the guy who did it was never caught. Nobody cared about the case. Only I cared.”

“Did you ever find him?” I asked.

He nodded his head somberly.

“It took a decade and a half, but I did it. I tracked the bastard down.”

He stopped talking for a moment. The last of the blood-red color drained from the sky, giving way to a dead gray shade.

“What hap—”

“I always thought when the moment came, I’d know exactly what to do,” he said, not meeting my gaze. “I thought I’d be able to control myself. But I was wrong.”

I gripped the railing.

This whole time, I’d sensed there was more to the reason why he was back in Christmas River, and now, it was beginning to make more sense.

“Did you kill him?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head.

“No,” he said. “But I hurt him. I hurt him pretty bad. The department covered for me, even though they shouldn’t have. Anybody else would’ve gotten their badge taken away.”

He sighed.

“But I couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t pretend to be a police officer, a protector, after what I did. And there’s not a day that goes by that I don’t think of what I did to that guy. The way he looked after I got through with him.”

I looked over at him. His face was wracked with guilt.

“I’m sure he deserved it,” I said. “He murdered your brother.”

Daniel shook his head.

“Before, I would have agreed with you,” he said. “But not anymore. I saw a part of myself… I can’t ever accept that part. It was evil. Just pure hate.”

“We all have that in us. That doesn’t make you evil.”

He put his hat back on.

“That’s not an excuse,” he said. “I violated everything I believed in that day. I’m worthless now.”

“I don’t believe that,” I said. “For whatever it’s worth.”

“I thought it would help to come back home,” he said. “To get out in the woods and try and forget about it all. But nothing helps. I still wake up thinking about what I did.”

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and started backing away from me.

“I can’t stay here any longer,” he said. “It’s no good. Nowhere is.”

“Wait,” I said, stepping forward, picking up the space he had created between us. “You can’t—”

“Goodbye, Cinnamon,” he said. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt you. I’m sorry for everything I’ve done to you. See what I mean? See how I’m doing this to you all over again? I’m worthless.”

He turned his back on me and walked away quickly. The bridge shook under his boots.

“Wait,” I whispered.

But he didn’t hear me. He disappeared into the trees as the footpath continued into the woods.

He was walking out of my life, once again. 

Chapter 46

I was working on a batch of cherry pies when I heard the front door jingle.

I wiped my hands on my apron. I yelled that I would be right there as I shoved a pan full of filled pies into the oven.

It had been a relatively quiet morning. A welcome relief after the flurry of tourists looking for macabre stories of the murder.

I had even gotten to sit down with a cup of coffee at one point and read a baking magazine, something I hadn’t done in what seemed like weeks.

But it was approaching Christmas, and the tourists were starting to return home for the holiday. There’d be another wave of them for New Year’s, but we were just beginning to settle into the eye of the hurricane.

I wiped my face free of flour marks and emerged from the kitchen into the dining room.

In the back of my mind, I secretly hoped it was him.

I hoped, hope against hope, that he’d changed his mind. That Daniel would stay. That he wouldn’t leave me and Christmas River behind in his rearview mirror.

But maybe it was for the best. Maybe when a moment passes, you can’t ever reclaim it. Maybe it’s best to leave that white hot love of youth behind in the dirt where you lost it, because nobody ever remains the same. Life changes us. And the two teenagers who kissed that moonlit night by the lake all those years ago were gone. They didn’t exist anymore. All that was left were two adults who brought with them endless amounts of baggage and hurts and pains.

Maybe it was just never meant to be.

That was what I wanted to believe anyway.

The truth, of course, was that I didn’t believe it.

Daniel had left me heartbroken, yet again.

I went to the cash register and looked up.

It wasn’t him.  

“The usual, if you would,” John said, taking off his scarf and coat.

“Well hey there, stranger,” I said, smiling. “Long time no, see. I’ve got a backlog of strawberry rhubarbs nobody’s touched for a week.”

 He smiled back. A real smile. Not the usual nervous one he gave me.

“Yeah,” he said. “Sorry. I left town for a week. Went to go visit my folks and clear my head a little bit. I didn’t get a chance to tell you with everything going on.”

I sliced a big piece of the pie for him, and placed it on the plate.

“I hope your folks are doing well,” I said.

“Yeah. I mean, loud and brash, but that’s normal for them.”

I smiled. I always got the impression that John’s family embarrassed him in some ways.

“Listen,” he said. “There’s something I came over to talk to you ab—”

Just as he said that, a gust of cold air blew through the shop as the front door opened. The door jingle bell slapped back and forth across the glass.

My stomach tightened as he walked in, tracking snow into the dining room.

“You’re so popular these days,” he said. “So much competition I’ve got.”

A groan of disappointment escaped my mouth, which was followed by an awkward silence. 

“Aw, don’t tell me you’re not glad to see me, Cin,” he said.

“What do you want, Evan?” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

I knew this day was coming. Since the competition, I knew he’d be coming around, sooner or later.

“To finish that conversation we started the other day.”

He suddenly looked at John.

“Would you leave us for a moment? Cinnamon and I have a few things to discuss.”

John didn’t say anything. But he stayed where he was. He wasn’t about to back down.

Evan approached the counter, leaning over. He started saying things in a low, honeyed voice.

“It’s finished, Cinnamon,” he said. “I told Bailey that I didn’t want her anymore.”

I cleared my throat, adjusting my stance.

“That’s great,” I said. “What does that have to do with me?”

He smiled. An almost-cruel smile that sent my skin crawling.

“Everything, honey,” he said. “I meant what I said that day. That I can’t live without you. That I’m sorry for what I did. I was a damn fool. I made a mistake. I just… I lost it there for a while.”

“Two and a half years,” I said. “You lost it for two and a half goddamn years.”

He looked away and back at me.

“It’s all in the past now, honey bun,” he said, reaching over and stroking my hand. “We’ve got our whole future ahead of us now. I’m back, Cinnamon. I’m back and I’ll never do that to you again.”

I bit my lip and felt my eyes welling up with tears.

I wanted to kick myself. I didn’t even know why I was crying. It was just a reaction. I was overwhelmed with so much emotion, I couldn’t control myself.

“Aw, see,” Evan said, dipping his head so he could meet my lowered eyes. “I know you still love me. I’ve known it the whole time. You belong to me, Cinnamon.”

You belong to me…

It was that last line that really did me in.

That last line that broke me down.

The last line that really hit it home.

I pulled my hand back like I was escaping the sharp teeth of a striking rattlesnake.

“Get out of here, Evan,” I said, my voice quiet and shaky.

He looked deep into my eyes and we both knew, in that instance, that the tables had turned.

That I was the one now who had the power.

“You don’t mean that,” he said.

“Get
OUT
of here,” I said, raising my voice. “Or so help me, I’ll throw you out myself.”

He stood up straight, looking at me with pained eyes, or whatever insincere emotion he really felt.

“It’s over, Evan,” I said. “It has been since the moment you stepped out on me.”

He stood there for a moment, stunned.

And then he shook his head angrily.

“All the same,” he said, backing away. “You’re all the same. But that’s okay. There’s a million out there just like you who’d love to take what I’m offering.”

“Then find yourself one,” I said. “And leave me out of it.”

He gave John a hateful look and then opened up the front door, slamming it hard behind him. I watched him stomp across the street, like a child throwing a tantrum.

And I hoped that would be the last time I ever saw Evan.

That he was now, officially and finally, out of my life forever.

Chapter 47

“I’m sorry about that,” I said to John when I’d regained my composure.

I sat down across from him at his booth, the uneaten slice of strawberry rhubarb between us. Something I rarely did. But because nobody was coming in, I had a little extra time.

He held up his hand.

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Something like that always seems to come up when we’re about to talk,” I said, rubbing my hands nervously on my apron.

“Well, you’re a busy lady,” he said.

“Thanks, uh, thanks for having my back there, too,” I said. “It’s nice to know I have someone I can count on.”

“I’m glad to do it, Cinnamon,” he said, poking at the pie with the prongs of his fork. “I’ll always be there for you if you need me.”

I nodded, and took a deep breath. I stared out the window at the Christmas decorations lining the snow-covered streets, and then I looked back at him.

It was time to tell him. To do the right thing.

To tell him there was no chance of this ever going beyond what it was now. 

“Listen, John, I’m glad you came in today,” I said. “There’s something I’ve been wanting to talk to you about.”

He reached across the table and placed his hand on mine. It was warm and gentle.

“You don’t need to,” he said. “I already know how you feel about me.”

I raised my eyebrows.  

“I’ve always known it, but I saw it clearly that day that Daniel guy came into the shop. I saw something in you then that I’d never seen when I’ve looked at you.”

I sighed.

“I’m that easy to read, am I?” I said.

He shrugged.

“It’s easy to read a woman when she’s not in love with you.”

I bit my lower lip.

“I feel like a real…” I said, struggling to find the right word to describe the poor way I had acted. “A real ass. I should have told you sooner. I didn’t want you to think I was leading you on or something.”

“I know,” he said. “I wanted something that just wasn’t working. I wanted it so badly that I couldn’t even see that it wasn’t working. But listen, Cinnamon, I don’t mind. Really. Not anymore.”

“Not anymore?” I said.

He smiled. A bashful kind of grin that I’d never seen on him.

“Well, that’s why I’m here,” he said. “I wanted to ask you something.”

“Oh?” I said.

I couldn’t possibly think of what he meant.

“I know this is kind of formal, but we both thought that it would be wrong to sneak around behind your back. But I just wanted to ask you if you’d mind if Kara and I… you know. If we started seeing each other.”