The Case of the Missing Elf: a Melanie Hart Mystery (Melanie Hart Cozy Mysteries Book 2) (12 page)

“Do your employers realize what a treasure you are?”

“I think so.”

“I can’t wait to see you.”

“That’s exactly what I wanted to hear.”

I smiled. “I hope work is going well.”

“It’s fine. Meanwhile, I see you’ve had a bit of trouble down there?”

Josh had a mail-order subscription to the
Cloverton Gazette
. He’d said keeping up with me wasn’t quite enough for him. He wanted to know what was happening throughout the town.

I took that as a good omen. Maybe one day Josh would be willing to move here, a place I loved with my whole heart. A place I never intended to leave.

“Yes. As you read, the man who played the elf in Santa’s Cabin was murdered.”

“Do the police have any leads?”

“It doesn’t appear so. I won’t check in with Gossford until tomorrow morning. Maybe things will have shifted by then.”

“Are you and Ginger doing your best to beat the cops at their game?”

“Please, hush.”

“Well?”

“Ginger took it personally that somebody had the nerve to kill her elf.”

“So I take it that’s a yes?”

“Please, I beg you, don’t tell a soul.”

“I doubt that I have to. I would imagine somebody’s figured it out for themselves by now.”

My thoughts turned to Larkin. “I don’t think so. At least not yet. We haven’t really done much so far.”

“You be careful.”

“Absolutely.” I heard a voice call out from his end of the line.

“Gotta go,” Josh said.

“See you Saturday.”

“Remember, I’m taking you out to dinner. You can make book on that.”

“I will.”

I hung up the phone with a silly grin plastered on my face. I couldn’t help it. Josh had that kind of an effect on me. And he’d elected, despite the heavy workload he faced, to come see me. That thought launched my heart into triple overdrive.

L
ater t
hat day I
managed to corral Toby on his way into Santa’s Cabin. It was afternoon and just about the time I’d figured he’d arrive at work. When I stepped up beside him, he greeted me politely.

“Toby, could you spare me a minute here before you go inside?” Accosting him this way made me feel like a cheap gumshoe detective in some dimestore novel. But I needed to do what I needed to do if I wanted to free Wendy from suspicion.

My turning up a few feet short of his workplace didn’t appear to rattle Toby. “Sure,” he said, “I’ve got about five minutes before I go on duty. What do you need?”

“I’ve heard things got a little tense between you and Jeremy Plummer the other day.”

Toby pulled a face. “Why would you care about that?”

“It’s just that Mrs. Plummer is a new hire. With Ginger being a friend, I thought maybe I should scope out what the trouble is. I’m here to help Ginger avoid any problems.

Toby shrugged. “Our differences have nothing to do with my work here, or his mom’s as far as I can tell.”

“Why don’t you let me be the judge of that?”

I thought my cover story for delving into the relationship between Toby and Jeremy was pretty thin. I wondered if the teenager would read through my bluff and tell me to take a hike. But people often told me I had an open and honest face. I hoped that fact would cover my current lie.

Toby sighed. “It’s about some stuff that disappeared from my school locker.”

“Are you saying you think Jeremy stole from you?”

“I think it’s possible.”

“Has he stolen things from other people?”

“I have a couple of friends who think so.”

“Did you file a complaint with the police?”

“Nah, I don’t have any proof.”

“Is there any reason he could be a suspect just because you dislike him?”

“Yeah. That’s part of the problem. He’s kind of weird.”

“In what way?”

“He doesn’t hang around with us normal kids. He sort of goes his own way. He even claimed he was going to be rich someday.”

Shades of Scroggins’ friend, Lester Porter, I thought. He, too, thought someday Scroggins would turn him into a wealthy man. What kind of a tie could there have been between Scroggins, Porter, and Jeremy?

And what did Jeremy’s mother know of this connection
— i
f it existed? Agnes Plummer had solicited Ginger for the elf job. Was it because she was dying to play Santa’s helper or was there a darker reason she wanted inside that cabin?

“Is that all you wanted to know?” Toby asked.

I glanced back at him and nodded. “Yes, and thanks for your help. You’d better head into work now.”

He shot me a grin and scrambled up the cabin steps.

I stayed behind and watched him go, wondering about Jeremy, and Scroggins, and sudden wealth.

~~~

That night, after having consumed a startlingly good lasagna dinner, Wendy and I settled into the living room. She explained that one of her favorite programs was on TV. “I hope you don’t mind if I watch it.”

Nero hopped up onto her lap and pranced about briefly before settling in. I’d had a close call a time or two up in my bedroom with the feline, but so far, he hadn’t outright attacked me.

“Watch away,” I told Wendy. “I’ve heard some good things about the show. I’m looking forward to seeing it.”

Of course, I hadn’t heard a thing about the program, but she didn’t need to know that. If the TV show kept her happy, so be it. She had enough to deal with just now.

Wendy nodded with satisfaction and clicked the remote. I watched as the TV sprang to life.

I’d kept the conversation neutral during dinner. Partly, I refused to interrupt my first  homemade pan of lasagna with any other thoughts. I still couldn’t quite believe the delicious dish I’d consumed had been assembled by me.

Wendy had been a hard taskmaster, making me not only put together a salad, but also whip up a homemade salad dressing. Talk about smug. I was so pleased with my accomplishments that my feet probably wouldn’t come back down to the ground for months.

But at the first commercial break, I broached a subject that had been bothering me. “Wendy, were you aware that there’d been a teenager hanging around with your cousin?”

She turned her large eyes on me. “Do you mean the Plummer boy? Sure, I knew about him. Barnaby employed the kid to run errands.”

“Really? What kind of jobs did he give the kid. Do you know?”

“No, dear. I never interfered in Barnaby’s doings. If I had, he’d have walked out on me in short order. The man might have been down on his luck, but he had his pride.”

“But I thought you said Barnaby didn’t run any kind of operations on the side. So weren’t you curious about what the kid was doing.”

“Oh, no. I think he sent the boy to grocery store once in a while. I think it was a kindness really. Just  little jobs that brought in some spending money for the kid. Of course, I didn’t know anything about his warehouse plans back then..”

“But you knew about Jeremy?”

“Who?”

“The Plummer boy.”

“Oh, is that his first name? Yes, I saw him come and go, but I never met him. Then, I saw him one day with his mother. That’s how I knew he was a Plummer.”

The program returned from commercials, Wendy turned away from me and refocused her attention on the TV. And I sat there wondering about two grown men and a teenaged boy. What kind things would they have been having him do?.

As the program rolled toward its inevitable conclusion, I sat in my chair thinking about business gambits, empty warehouses, con games, and Jeremy Plummer and his mother. But try as I might none to figure out a connection, none of it added up to anything concrete.

At the end of the sitcom, I excused myself and rushed upstairs to my bedroom. Grabbing my cell phone from my purse, I punched in Ginger’s number.

“Hello there,” she said after a single ring.

We exchanged a couple of banalities before I got down to business. “Can you meet me for breakfast tomorrow?”

“Sure. What’s up?”

“We need to chat.”

“Hmm, that sounds mysterious. Can you give me a clue?”

“I’d rather fill you in over breakfast.”

“Okay. I’ll meet you at the Shopping Cart?”

I thought Ginger might hang up on me if I suggested meeting at Roger Bradley’s restaurant. I’d give anything to know why Ginger disdained him. She usually viewed each new male face in Cloverton as a choice offering put up for her personal enjoyment. But not this time. And I couldn’t figure out why not.

“Fine,” I said. “If that’s your choice, that’s where I’ll be.”

Then, I spent most of the rest of the night, staring out my bedroom window at the carriage house. I couldn’t turn off my mind or stop wondering who had murdered Scroggins and why. The only thing I did know was that I couldn’t let Ginger walk blindly through her job at Santa’s Cabin. We needed to chew on this possible connection between Scroggins and Porter and Jeremy and Agness and the possibility of blackmail.

~~~

Wednesday dawned cold and clear. The snow glistened. A north wind held most people captive inside their warm homes. The rest of us, apparently, had all decided to have breakfast at The Shopper’s Cart.

The place was actually a grocery store, but in one corner it offered a small eat-in restaurant that was usually stuffed when it came to breakfasts. When I arrived, the eatery was filled with chilly customers ordering up hot food.

I spotted Ginger at the back of the room. With a fierce glare at passing diners, she had snagged, and now held fast, a place for us at a small table.

“What’s the deal?” she asked, as I joined her. “This place is always busy, but I’ve never seen it like this.”

“There’s nothing like cold weather to give me an appetite.” I peeled off my parka and grabbed a menu. “I guess I’m not alone.”

Jasmine Hargrove turned up to take our order. Just out of high school, she was perky and an excellent antidote to the blustery weather just beyond the restaurant window.

I opted for a full breakfast platter. Ginger ordered toast and orange juice. We both nodded enthusiastically, when Jasmine asked if we wanted coffee. She quickly filled our cups and then dashed off with our orders.

In her wake, I returned my attention to my friend. “Are you feeling okay?”

Normally, Ginger was grumpy when we met this early in the morning. She much preferred lunchtime sessions.

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Ach,” she groused. “We’re not even a week into Santa’s Cabin, and I can’t wait to close the thing down. It’s draining every drop of energy out of me.”

“Oh dear, I’m afraid I’m not going to make your job there any easier.”

“You better walk carefully. I won’t look kindly on anyone who makes that place any more challenging than it already is.”

“Good thing I wore my running shoes, then.”

She folded her arms over her chest. “Okay, spill it, Just what have you done?”

I swallowed and paused for a moment, reluctant to deliver my news. “Ah… I’ve been checking into the trouble you told me about. The trouble between Toby and the Plummer boy.”

“And you’ve found something I won’t want to hear, haven’t you?” She tossed up her hands. “Just great. Didn’t I tell you to ignore things that could mess up the works?”

“You indicated something like that, yeah. But I’m a reporter. I’m constitutionally unable to ignore unanswered questions.”

Ginger sighed and shook her head. “Okay. Go ahead. Spill it.”

“I thought about keeping this to myself, but in the end I couldn’t.” I paused for a beat. “You see, I’ve learned that Toby suspects Jeremy stole something from his school locker. He also thinks the kid may have done the same to some of his friends.”

Ginger looked confused. “What’s that got to do with Santa’s Cabin?”

“I checked with Wendy. She say backs up Porter’s contention that Jeremy used to run errands for Scroggins.”

“So?”

“Well, think about it. Jeremy worked for Scroggins, who just happened to play the elf in Santa’s Cabin. And suddenly, before the ad for a new elf even hit the street, Agnes called you and said she wanted the job?”

Ginger shook her head. “If there’s a connection there, Melanie, for the life of me I can’t see it.”

“Okay, I can’t put it together, either, but I’m telling you that you should be careful. You need to keep an eye out in case there’s something funny going on. I think there’s not a connection between Scroggins and Porter and Jeremy, but Agnes may be tied in with the men, too. I mean don’t you find her volunteering for that job odd?”

“Let me tell you, the only thing funny going on inside that cabin is being done by my blasted Santa Claus.”

“Is he still drinking?”

“I don’t think so. But I can’t imagine how he landed the job. Even I’m better with children than he is.”

That’s not good, I thought. “Well, if I were you, I’d keep an eye on Agnes, as well.”

“Oh, joy. I’ve been hoping I could depend on her to keep things running smoothly. This is so not what I needed?”

“Whatever, but I think it advisable.”

“Thank God for Toby. So far he’s the only person in that cabin I can trust.”

“Well, at least you have someone to rely on.”

“What about the murder? Do you have any fresh leads on that?

“Only what I’m trying to tell you. Maybe whatever got Scroggins killed in some way is tied  to Jeremy and his mother.”’

“That makes my skin crawl.”

“Exactly.”

“So  you’re saying one of them could be the killer?”

“I think it’s a possibility.”

Ginger shook her head and sighed. “Why me?”

“This isn’t about you, Ginger.”

“Why couldn’t you have come bearing dreadful news about dear old’ Santa. A tale so slimey, I could justify firing him?”

“Sorry, other than his being a class one letch, I haven’t found anything negative about the man yet.”

“Have you tried?”

I sat back stunned. “No, I haven’t,” I admitted.