Chapter 27 #2
So much for having the day off. Since it was a Saturday, and I hadn’t planned on working—even before witnessing a death—I’d scheduled posts to automatically run.
Now I had to rethink that. I tried to remember what the posts were even about, but my brain wasn’t working yet. I needed a shower and coffee, stat.
I wrote back:
Be there in an hour.
Showering and dressing helped to drag me out of sleep’s fuzzy kingdom. I pulled on my coat and gloves. I’d just grab a pastry and coffee to go and eat it at the office. But when I got downstairs, I was faced with chaos.
The last time I saw a line this long in the lobby, it was people waiting to check in.
But I feared the opposite was happening now.
The guests’ faces showed fear, frustration, and impatience.
Rudy and Jack were loading carts with luggage to help guests bring their belongings to their cars.
Grace looked as frazzled as I’d ever seen.
“I’m sorry, but our policy states that we do not issue refunds for early departures,” she explained to a red-faced man at the front desk.
“Even if someone in town is killing people? We can’t even leave early then?” he bellowed.
“You can leave whenever you like,” she said calmly. “But you will be charged for the entire duration of your reservation.”
He slapped his hand on the desk. “Get ready for the worst reviews of your life. I’m going to post about my experience here everywhere!” He stormed off, and the next guest approached the desk, probably ready to argue against the same policy.
The breakfast area was trashed—dirty tables, empty serving platters. Apparently, everyone had gotten up early this morning. Only one slice of bread remained. But at least there was coffee. I filled a to-go cup and cut through the line of angry customers in the lobby to get out the front door.
A sense of unease settled into my bones as I walked to work.
What was once magical now felt ominous. Main Street was down to one lane with an officer stationed to direct traffic.
Police crime scene tape and yellow cones blocked off the area where Susie’s body had lain.
Even the door to the staircase was blocked off, with an officer guarding it.
I wondered briefly how Ellison could get in and out of his apartment.
Rather than the laughter and chatter of tourists, the town was once again crawling with news vans. I kept my head down, avoiding eye contact. As I passed one crew, I overheard a woman reporting live.
In that monotone voice, she said, “We have just confirmed that it was, in fact, a murder. So, we have two confirmed murders here in Christmasville. On top of that, we have received an anonymous tip that there were two prior suspicious deaths that were also possible murders. But authorities have not yet confirmed that report. So, we have to ask, does this picture-perfect town have a serial killer?”
I shivered against the cold wind. Things were about to change here and not for the better. I jogged up the town hall steps and went inside. The phone at the unmanned front desk rang incessantly. Every office was closed and dark except for Carol’s. I took the last sip of my coffee and went in.
“Kelsey!” Carol said. “Thank you for coming. The sheriff should be here any moment with an update. Don’t answer any phones. I’m pulling together a statement.” The words poured out of her on full blast as she paced the office, picking up items and searching underneath.
“Can I help you find something?” I asked.
“Here it is!” She straightened, holding a pen up in the air in victory. “My favorite pen. I can’t work without my favorite pen.”
I recognized the signs of panic rushing through her. She needed me. I was glad she’d asked me to come in. I slipped out of my coat and hung it on the back of the guest chair, then sat down.
“What can I do?” I asked. “Do you need a second set of eyes for the statement?”
“Yes, definitely.” She eased herself down to her seat. “Even though we all know the truth, we have to be sensitive.”
“The truth?” I repeated, confused.
She lowered her voice conspiratorially. “Everyone knows that girl was unhinged. She clearly decided to kill herself because you’re moving on with her man.”
“What?” I gasped. Had Carol not heard the same news the reporters outside had? Or was she so lost in her Christmas fantasy world that she refused to accept it?
“I’m not accusing you of anything, dear,” she continued. “It’s not your fault the girl killed herself.”
“She didn’t kill herself,” a gruff voice announced.
The sheriff stood in the doorway. He had bags under his eyes the size of Santa’s toy sacks. He’d clearly been up all night.
“How would you know that?” Carol asked defensively.
He crossed his arms over his portly belly and leaned tiredly against the doorjamb. “Because she was lured to the roof. She had a text on her phone from someone asking her to meet there.”
“Who?” I asked.
His eyes cut to mine. “We’re not releasing that information quite yet. But soon.”
Carol scoffed. “Just because someone met her up there, that doesn’t mean they pushed her. She could have tripped. She could have gotten depressed over what the person said and—”
“Carol,” Kris interrupted. “We have to face reality here.” He counted off on his fingers.
“Isabella Redstone. Susie McCulley. Mary Babbage’s family is going to the press.
And the Dennis Sudbeck case is officially reopened.
We’re bringing in reinforcements from the state. The FBI might even get involved.”
Carol sat as still as a statue for one long moment. Then her lower lip began to tremble. “It’s all over, isn’t it? They’re all going to leave.”
Kris gave a sympathetic sigh. “At this point, we need to focus on safety rather than the economy.”
Her face crashed into her hands. “I couldn’t save them,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “So many businesses need this month to survive.”
I didn’t want her to break down and cry. Not in front of the sheriff. And not when we needed her leadership the most.
“They’ll be fine,” I said, forcing an unnatural level of optimism into my voice. “Business owners save for bad times. And this is a bad time. They’ll scrimp, they’ll cut, and they’ll make it through to the other side.”
Though, even as I said the words, I knew that wasn’t true for everyone. Namely the Christmas Creek Inn. Grace had told me they didn’t even have the money to hire an extra person. She may lose it all. But we had to stay positive and keep the town running.
Carol lifted her eyes to mine. “We need to go dark. No posts.”
I nodded, agreeing completely. “Should I interact with comments?”
“No, it would just encourage more,” she said. “My statement should suffice—for now.”
That felt weird. Without posting or dealing with comments, I didn’t know what else to do. This wasn’t the best time to try to negotiate new partnerships with businesses. “So, I do … nothing?”
“For now,” Carol said. “Don’t worry, you’ll still get paid …”
Her voice trailed off, and I filled in the obvious for now.
If the town needed to cut someone from the budget, I was the newest hire.
And Carol could just do my job poorly like she’d been doing it before.
I couldn’t believe this was happening. I could lose my job.
My new life here. My new friends. Ellison. Everything.
“I need to head back,” Kris said. “We obviously have a lot going on at the moment.”
“I’ll need to rewrite my statement,” Carol muttered. “But maybe if we have a positive spin.” She paused. “Sheriff, you have a name from the text. Will you be making an arrest?”
He looked up from his phone. “It’s happening right now.”
“W-who is it?” I stammered. If the person who sent the text killed Susie, then he or she most likely killed the others as well. This murder mystery could be over and solved. Maybe everything wouldn’t spiral to hell. Maybe we could reclaim the rest of the season if the killer was caught.
Kris’s eyes shifted to mine, and I froze in my seat.
“Who is it?” I asked again.
“I have to go,” he said plainly.
He marched off, and I turned to Carol for some sort of explanation. She shrugged, equally as confused. It seemed like he didn’t want to say the name in front of me. He certainly didn’t think I did it, or I’d be sitting here in cuffs right now. So, the only other explanation was … no.
I shot up from my seat, leaving my coat behind and rushing to the door.
“Kelsey, wait!” Carol called. “Where are you going? We have to work on the statement!”
The cold wind stung my face as I pushed open the door and darted down the steps. The news crews were clumped together down the street. Their cameras were focused on a police cruiser parked in front of the door where Susie went up to the roof.
“Hey, watch it,” someone snarled as I stepped on a foot.
I couldn’t tear my eyes from that door. The sheriff had made his way to the area and stood beside the cruiser. The news crews and lookie-loos muttered and speculated. Then the door opened, and the crowd gasped.
A female officer led Ellison out, his hands handcuffed, his hair disheveled. Kris opened the back door of the cruiser and put his hand on the top of Ellison’s head, ready to guide him into the car.
“Is that the killer?” someone shouted.
“What’s his name?” a woman yelled.
A monotone voice reported, “We are looking at live footage of a suspect’s arrest in the Christmasville slayings.”
Ellison’s eyes scanned the crowd, panicked and wild. He found me, and my heart hammered in my chest.
“I didn’t do it,” he mouthed. “I didn’t do it.”