Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
I brought the phone down to my side and prayed that the “live” hadn’t caught that. But, no, it was still loading. I silently thanked the universe for turning my phone into a brick at just the right moment.
Carol, Santa, and a few other townspeople rushed to roll the screen back so visiting families wouldn’t have to see.
Already, several parents blindfolded their children with their hands.
Nick and Sheriff Kris were telling people to back up.
Though the crowd was mostly dispersing by itself.
Terrified screams had that effect on people.
I stepped closer to the tree. Isabella lay tucked between branches, her neck at an unnatural angle. She wore the same outfit from the day before, though it was drenched in blood. Even from here, I could see the red slashes across her torso.
Isabella had been stabbed. Repeatedly.
This wasn’t a slip and fall. And the truth could not be denied.
Christmasville had a killer.
I put a hand over my mouth, muffling the strangled cry that tried to escape. Isabella was dead. Isabella had been murdered. I felt paralyzed, unable to move or even think properly.
Carol rushed up to me, her face pale. “Did the world just see that?”
“No.” I pushed the word through my tightened throat. “I actually had technical difficulties.”
Carol clutched her chest in relief. “Well, thank goodness for that.”
“But other people might have,” I said. “Pictures and videos from the crowd are sure to go viral at any moment. Should we put out a formal statement?”
Carol was shaking her head before I even finished my sentence. “Go dark until you hear from me. No posts of any kind.”
I nodded. That was probably for the best until we had more information. Carol rushed off to talk to the sheriff, who was busy trying to keep people away from his crime scene. “That’s her. That’s the one she fought with,” a woman said to her husband with an outstretched finger pointing at me.
I stiffened. And it suddenly occurred to me that it might be very bad that so many people had seen me argue with Isabella, and then she’d turned up dead.
Hurrying home, I kept my head down the rest of the way. The lobby of the inn was loud with chatter as people shared what they’d seen and heard. I dashed by, hoping not to gain any attention. I locked and deadbolted my door, changed into pajamas, and burrowed under the covers.
It was too early for sleep, but I needed a distraction or I’d see nothing but Isabella’s body beneath my eyelids all night long.
I scrolled through TV channels, briefly stopping at a Christmas romance movie, but I already felt like I was living my own confusing one.
Then I stopped on a true-crime doc, felt the same, and shut it down.
My parents texted, wanting to know how living in my “favorite, magical place” was going. But I couldn’t respond. I didn’t want to admit that it had turned into a nightmare.
Sleep came fitfully through the night, a chunk here and a chunk there.
I dealt with my share of guilt for assuming Isabella and her bruised ego had skipped town.
Then there were the nightmares that the killer would target me next.
My phone had run a patch update overnight, so at least that was fixed.
It was Saturday, so I didn’t have to work.
But I couldn’t sleep in. My brain kept spiraling.
Giving up, I went downstairs and grabbed a muffin and coffee to bring back up.
I did not want to sit at a table and risk overhearing people talk about me.
Or, even worse, have someone stop by my table to chat. I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
When I got back to my room, the phone was ringing. Not my cell, but the hotel room phone. Who would even have that number?
I picked up the handle. “Hello?”
“Kelsey Hendricks?” A somewhat familiar gravelly voice asked.
“Yes, this is she.”
“This is Sheriff Kris Whitman. I was hoping you could come down to the station this morning and help us fill in some blanks on your deceased coworker.”
I held back a sigh. That was actually the last thing I wanted to do. But I had to try to help.
“Of course,” I said. “I’ll be there shortly.”
Christmasville’s police station was off the main drag, down a side street. It was a small, squat building tucked in between the library and the historical society. I’d never seen a station so tiny, but I assumed that—until recently—they hadn’t had much crime in town.
The receptionist was on the phone when I arrived, her voice flustered and nervous. “We have no statement at this time. Press conference? Oh, I don’t know about that.”
It sounded like little Christmasville was about to meet big media.
Carol walked out of the sheriff’s office, looking as disheveled as I’d ever seen her. They must have called her in too. Once she saw me, she headed over.
“Kelsey, how are you doing?” she asked.
“Still a little shaken up,” I admitted.
She nodded knowingly. “I just stopped by to see if Kris knew anything yet.”
Oh. So they hadn’t called her in.
“Could they identify Isabella’s killer?” I asked. “It’s a little too coincidental that now three bodies have been found in the past few days. Could this be the work of a serial killer?”
She scoffed. “We don’t have a serial killer, Kelsey. The other two were accidents, we know that.”
Actually, we didn’t.
“And as far as Isabella goes,” she continued calmly. “I’m sure the killer is not from Christmasville.”
My brow furrowed. “What makes you say that? Do they have video or something?”
“No, nothing like that,” she said with a wave of her hand. “But it’s just common sense. All of those influencers have stalkers. And nine times out of ten, when something like this happens, it’s a lunatic ex-boyfriend. Someone followed her to town, killed her, and left. The public is safe.”
But there was no evidence of that. I read between the lines. Carol didn’t want tourists to think we had a serial killer and flee, so we didn’t have a serial killer. Simple as that. She was turning into the mayor from the Jaws movie.
“If the public is at risk—” I started.
But she cut in. “Kelsey, our reputation is the town’s most valuable asset. We are a family destination. Thanksgiving is in five days. If news spreads, it could kill the entire season for Christmasville!”
Carol was living in a dream world if she thought she could push this under the rug like the other two. News vans would be here any minute. The dispatcher was already fielding media calls. Unlike the first two deaths, this one had been displayed in front of a hundred people and their phones.
“There’s nothing you can do to stop news like this,” I said. “Isabella was found in the town’s Christmas tree during the lighting ceremony. It’s a headline writer’s dream. Cell phone footage has already gone viral on social media.”
Faced with the truth, her expression crumbled. “Do you know how many businesses could go under?”
I thought about Grace and Rudy, Holly and Nick, Ellison. The hardship they could face if the tourists fled.
“I don’t know what to do.” Carol looked at me like I could serve up a holiday miracle on a platter.
“I don’t either, Carol,” I said sadly.
The sheriff poked his head out of his office and waved me down the hall. “Miss Hendricks!”
“I have to go.” I put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get through this. We’ll figure something out.”
Carol nodded solemnly and headed toward the front door while I walked down the hall to the sheriff.
“Thanks for coming down to talk with us,” he said.
I took my coat off and folded it over my arm. “Of course. I’ll help in any way I can.”
Rather than heading back into his office, I followed him down the hall into another room. It was small and dreary, with only a table and two chairs. I sat in one and Kris took the one facing. Nick followed us in, closing the door behind him, and stood leaning against the wall in the corner.
“Hi, Nick,” I said.
He nodded. “Kelsey.”
I adjusted myself in the seat, trying to get more comfortable. “So, do you think this is related to Mary’s death or Mr. Sudbeck at the inn?”
Kris said gruffly, “We’ll ask the questions here, Miss Hendricks.”
I blinked quickly, taken aback by his sharp tone. Apparently, Sheriff Kris was playing bad cop. My eyes went to Nick, who seemed a bit more clearheaded.
“We have no reason to believe that they’re related at this time,” Nick said.
Kris sent a quick glare his way, apparently unhappy that he’d answered my question. Then he returned his attention to me. He clicked his pen and flipped open a notebook.
“You had a history with Isabella Redstone,” Kris said. “You two were enemies.”
The room tilted as realization dawned on me. There was a reason Kris didn’t bring me into his office. I was in an interrogation room. I wasn’t here to help them fill in blanks. They thought I did it.
“You can’t think I had anything to do with this,” I said, incredulous.
Kris stared, unblinking. “You have the biggest motive.”
My mouth opened and closed. “We did not like each other. But that’s not a reason to kill somebody. If everyone went around killing whoever they didn’t like, the world would be depopulated in a month.”
The corner of Nick’s mouth rose slightly, but Kris was undeterred.
“The fact remains,” he said, “we have several witnesses claiming to see you argue with Miss Redstone only hours before her death.”
“Exactly!” I slapped my hand on the table. “Why would I kill someone after a huge public argument? I’d have to be the dumbest murderer on earth.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Or you’d think having a public argument would make us eliminate you for that reason. Maybe that was part of the plan.”
“Are you serious?” I practically screamed. I took a breath and told myself to calm down. Shouting at the sheriff wouldn’t help improve his apparently low image of me.
“I have an alibi for the entire day,” I said calmly. “Carol can tell you. I was working right up until the lights came on at the ceremony.”
“And what about the night before?” he asked.
I paused. “She was killed Thursday night?”
Kris nodded slowly. “That is what the state medical examiner has concluded.”
“How is that possible?” I asked, confused. “People would have seen her in the tree during the day.” Multiple people had checked on the tree, including myself and Carol.
Kris hesitated, like he didn’t want to share the information.
But Nick spoke up. “Her body was moved into the tree at the last minute. We found some pooled blood in the crawl space beneath the gazebo. She may have been killed at the park and stored under the gazebo. Then dragged out and placed in the tree.”
And with the tree behind that giant screen, no one would have seen.
“So, again, Miss Hendricks,” Kris said. “Where were you Thursday night?”
I thought back and realized with a sinking feeling that I had no alibi whatsoever. “I was in my hotel room, alone, unfortunately. But do you really think that I could lift Isabella and heft her into that tree?” This was the one time that I didn’t mind being the shortest person around.
Kris remained skeptical. “She was tall but underweight. Not much to her. My nine-year-old could have done it.”
Then interrogate her, I stopped myself from quipping.
I leaned back in the chair. I came down here because I wanted to help. But now I knew that I was a suspect, maybe even their top one. There was no reason for me to sit here and listen to another minute of this nonsense.
I cleared my throat and spoke strongly. “You have no evidence that I was involved in this, other than an argument I had with Isabella. If you’re going to arrest me, I’d like a lawyer. If you’re not going to arrest me, I’d like to leave.”
Kris’s nostrils flared, but the law was the law.
“You are free to leave,” he said. “But don’t leave town.”
I grabbed my coat and bag. “Wasn’t planning on it.”