Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Aaron wasn’t at breakfast the next morning. Though that didn’t mean he was in shackles at the Christmasville jail, if they even had one. He could have slept in or gotten an earlier start. I took a long sip of coffee and picked at my muffin.
“Something wrong with that?”
I looked up to find Rudy, Grace’s son, giving my muffin the once-over.
“I can get you another one if you don’t like cinnamon and walnut,” he said.
“Oh, it’s not the muffin’s fault,” I said, smiling. “I’m just not that hungry. I had kind of a bad night.” I thought about mentioning Mary and finding her body, but Rudy was just a kid. I’m sure once word got around, Grace wanted to have that conversation with him herself.
He frowned and pushed a lock of his shaggy blond hair out of his eyes. “Anything we can do? I can have Angelica bring thicker pillows or an extra blanket to your room.”
“Not that kind of a bad night,” I said. “The bed is perfect. It was my brain that wouldn’t shut off.”
“Ah.” He sat in the empty chair opposite me. “I’ve had those nights a lot since my dad passed.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” I hadn’t even actually thought about Grace having a husband. She seemed to handle the inn pretty well by herself.
Rudy shrugged. “It’s been over a year now. We’re getting used to it. Though it was rough at first.”
“I can imagine,” I said.
“So, you’re working for the town, right? Social media stuff?” he asked.
“Yep, that’s me! Have any suggestions for locations or attractions that would appeal to the teen audience?”
“Sure. Teens would like our secret barn parties, but we can’t exactly advertise that.”
“No,” I said, chuckling. “And I’ll pretend I didn’t hear it.”
He thought for a moment, scrunching up his freckled nose. “But, for real, maybe the hedge maze? That’s somewhat cool. Most of the other stuff here is little kiddie.”
“That is true,” I said. I couldn’t imagine teens getting excited for pictures with Santa or a cookie decorating contest.
Rudy put his chin in his hands, which made him look less like a teenager and more like a little boy. “So, tell me about the outside world.”
I faked a grimace. “It stinks. You can only hear Christmas music two months a year.”
“Travesty. Can you get hot chocolate in July?”
“Only if it’s iced.”
Rudy gasped. “The humanity!”
I chuckled. “I know it may seem insular, but this is a really nice place to grow up.”
“I wouldn’t know anything else,” he said, glancing around the dining room.
I hadn’t really thought about it that way. Moving here as an adult was one thing. Being born here and never leaving was another. “You will in a couple years, though, right? Are you going to college?”
“Planning on going to University of Southern Maine. They have a Tourism and Hospitality program.”
I leaned back in my chair, impressed. “Wow, you’ve got it all planned out!”
“More like my mom does.” He made a worried face. “I just hope I don’t come off as a total weirdo. Like, everyone else in my classes will be from normal places.”
“Well, I’ve met quite a few teenagers in my day, and you seem just as sarcastic and obnoxious as the rest of them, if it makes you feel any better.”
He covered his mouth as he laughed. “Gee, thanks.”
“Seriously. Don’t worry about it. You’ll fit right in.”
“Thanks, Ms. Hendricks.” He lifted his apron over his head. “And now it’s time for me to head to school.”
I waved as he hurried away. It must be hard, balancing high school and working at your family business. And I’d had no idea Grace had been going it alone for the past year after her husband passed. I made a mental note to reserve a day on the calendar to feature the inn on the town’s socials.
Strangely, that little talk had brought my appetite back.
I scarfed down the muffin and headed to the town hall.
I had no idea what I was walking into. I didn’t know if Carol would be a crying, snotty mess or what.
But I could be supportive today. My boss had lost an employee and friend. Whatever she needed.
Apparently, what she needed was to get a new Douglas fir for the town hall lobby. I walked in to find her on a ladder, placing a star on the top of the tree while singing along to Christmas music.
“Good morning, Carol,” I said, flatly. Unlike her, I felt guilty being cheery on a day like this.
“Kelsey!” She descended the ladder and turned the volume down from a ten to a one. “Good morning! Though it feels like afternoon. I’ve been here for hours. Early start today!”
“I can see that,” I said slowly.
“The old tree was getting a little dry,” she explained. “Dropping its needles. It was time to swap it out for a new one. The lobby always has to stay fresh!”
“Well, the new tree looks great,” I said with a weak smile. Maybe staying busy was how Carol dealt with feelings, but I couldn’t ignore the reindeer in the room. I added, tentatively, “I’m very sorry about Mary.”
The enthusiasm leaked from her face like a deflated balloon. “Yes, it’s very sad. But it’s important to push on. Mary would want that. We have the official town tree-lighting ceremony this weekend. It’s the high season for us. We’ve got big plans.”
“Should we have a memorial post for Mary on our socials?” I asked.
“Of course not,” Carol snapped. “Your job is to encourage people to come here, not post obituaries.”
I stood still, my face blanched white.
She softened. “Plus, she’s not even from here. Her children are bringing her back home to Connecticut for the services and burial.”
I swallowed. “Okay, well, if you need anything, I’m here.”
She snapped her fingers and pointed at me. “I do, actually.”
“Whatever you need,” I said, ready to be helpful. I could fetch her coffee. Pick up some of the slack from Mary’s duties.
“I spoke with the sheriff last night, and we all know this unfortunate incident with Mary is nothing. The poor woman slipped and fell. But if the press calls, I need you to stick to the statement I placed on your desk.”
I blinked quickly, confused. The sheriff had gone hard after Aaron last night and seemed a long way from convinced that Mary only slipped and fell. What changed only a few hours later?
“I don’t know if you know this,” I said, “but I was on the scene when she was found.”
“Yes, Kris told me.” She reached out and patted my hand. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
“Yes, but the police seemed concerned that Mary’s death could have been a, um, murder.”
She sighed and rolled her head from one shoulder to the other. “Apparently, Aaron Chambers screwed up the scene so badly that even if there had been a crime, any evidence was now ruined.”
She was right. There could have been another set of footprints or signs of a struggle.
But Aaron had knelt in the snow and dragged Mary’s body out of the creek and onto the bank.
A sinister thought crept into my mind. Had he ruined the scene on purpose?
Sure, a good person’s first instinct is to try to help, just like he’d done.
But if he was a killer, it was now mighty convenient that any of his DNA found on the body could be explained away by his attempt to help her.
While my mind had wandered, Carol was still talking.
“So, we have no evidence of a crime being committed. The tree-lighting ceremony is this weekend. Thanksgiving next week. We cannot justify terrifying tourists over an extremely small statistical chance that Mary didn’t fall. Especially when we have no proof.”
I stood, taking it all in. I supposed on a certain level it made sense. We were heading into peak season. All of the town’s small businesses didn’t need tourists canceling out of fear of something that may not have even happened.
But what if it had? What if there was a killer out there, we didn’t warn people, and someone else got hurt? The muffin solidified in my stomach, suddenly feeling like a ball of lead.
“Are you okay?” Carol asked, peering into my eyes like she was checking for a concussion.
“Yeah,” I assured her. “Seeing Mary last night was just … a lot.”
She tilted her head to the side. “Do you need the day off?”
“No, I’m fine, thanks.” That wouldn’t look great to take personal time on only my second day on the job. Despite the strangeness I felt at the moment, I really did love it here.
I pointed toward my office. “I’m actually excited to get started. I’m going to stay busy today. I’m building out our social media calendar and working in the dates of featured events. Plus days I want to reserve for highlighting certain businesses in town.”
I continued to babble as I walked, though Carol still looked concerned.
“Remember, no talking to the press!” she called after me. “Stick to the statement!”
I gave her a thumbs up. “Totally!”
Pushing open my office door, I switched on the light and dropped my bag on the floor.
Maybe Carol had the right idea. Coming in hours early to decorate a new tree was a bit much, but staying busy and focused on work would help with my spiraling brain.
I took off my coat and hung it on the hook on the back of my door.
Then I opened the door wide and caught a glimpse of Carol standing exactly where I’d left her.
She spoke intently on her cell phone, concern lining her face. Though I couldn’t hear the words, I couldn’t help but feel it was about me.