Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
Waking up was a horror show. First came the memories of the things I’d done and said.
Then came the nausea. Then … the vomit. I stumbled out of the bathroom some time later, chugged a bottle of water, and settled in with one of the pastries Ellison had dropped off.
My empty—like, completely empty—stomach needed something in it.
After the first croissant and one bite into the second, someone knocked on my door.
My heart raced. Could Ellison be back? I reached up and smoothed down my hair, hoping to tame any flyaways.
But I needed a lot more help than that. And I was still in my pajamas.
Not to mention I probably smelled like puke.
I briefly entertained the thought of pretending I wasn’t here. But if Ellison and I were to ever become something, he’d have to accept me at my highs and my lows. I stood and went to the door, unlocking it, and throwing it open.
Aaron, smartly dressed in a suit, stood waiting with a smile. But it wilted at the sight of me. And as his nose wrinkled, he took a step back. “Are you … okay?”
“Yeah,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Rough night. What’s up?”
His eyes were full of concern. “I heard the police questioned you.”
“Where did you hear that?” I asked. He wasn’t exactly friends with the cops.
He looked up and down the hall, then whispered. “Everyone in this town talks.”
That was the truth. I’d never experienced a faster gossip mill. I let out a sigh. “Yeah, they asked me to come down to the station and answer some questions. It wasn’t too bad.”
Aaron shook his head in disapproval. “Well, I came to tell you that if you need a lawyer, mine can recommend someone for you.”
“That’s very generous,” I said, taken aback. “I’m okay, though. They have no evidence that I did it, because I didn’t. They just needed to question me because half the town saw my argument with Isabella.”
He grimaced. “That was unfortunate.”
“Thank you, though, for the offer,” I said, and I meant it. Aaron was sweet. And he’d been there for me, more than once now.
He looked me up and down. “Can I get you anything? A hearty breakfast?”
I chuckled. “No, thanks. This is nothing a good shower and some Advil can’t cure.”
“We’ve all been there,” he said knowingly. Then he leaned in, his eyes glinting. “Next time, invite me.”
“Maybe I will,” I said with a little laugh. Then I waved him off and relocked the door.
I looked down at my pajamas, covered in cheese cracker dust and smelling like a gym locker room. I had never needed a shower more in my life.
Thirty minutes later, I was a new woman, clean-smelling and fresh. The pounding headache had receded. My stomach was sated. And I made the big move of wearing real clothes—a comfy sweater and soft jeans.
My phone showed three missed calls from Carol. It was Sunday, no work, so that couldn’t be good. I didn’t know why people called back again rather than text a message. With a groan, I sat down and returned her call.
“Kelsey!” she answered with more perk than I was ready for.
I winced and pulled the phone a bit away from my ear. “Hi, Carol. How are you?”
“Great, just great. Listen, you and I are going out tonight.”
I nearly choked. “What was that?”
“The town was dead last night. Canceled restaurant reservations, low sales in the stores, empty streets.”
Did she not remember we had a murder the night before that? With a public display of the corpse at a family event we’d been promoting for days? I opened my mouth to speak, but she rattled on.
“It’s up to us, the townspeople, to line the streets and support our local businesses. Keep that merry Christmasville vibe alive. Tourists need to see that the town is safe.”
“Is it, though?” I dared to ask.
“Of course it is,” she snapped, like I’d asked if one plus one equals two. “What happened to that influencer was a tragedy, but domestic disputes happen, and unfortunately the guy followed her into our town. But he’s gone now. The public is safe.”
“Wait,” I interrupted. “Did the sheriff tell you this? They know who it was?”
“No, I’m just going by statistics. The vast majority of female homicide victims are killed by family members or partners.
But listen, we’re getting off track here.
I’m asking every business owner, every employee, everyone who has a stake in Christmasville’s success to hit the streets tonight.
Unless you’re working, you should be browsing, eating, walking.
We need to show the tourists that we’re still a safe, happy town. ”
I hesitated. “I had planned on just relaxing in my hotel for the evening.”
Carol sniffed in disapproval. “We residents really need to stick together, Kelsey. We need to support each other and our small, family-owned businesses.”
My heart lifted at her inclusion of me as a resident. And, of course, I wanted to support others in town. But how did we know the killer wasn’t still here? Would we be safe?
“Are others on board?” I asked.
“The streets will be full,” she assured me. “And you and I will be together the whole time. Completely safe.”
I rubbed my forehead. “Okay, what time?”
Carol and I agreed to meet at eight for an evening stroll. I was glad I didn’t have to sit through an hour-long meal with the Jaws mayor on steroids, but apparently she’d already roped someone else into the dinnertime slot.
I came downstairs to find her waiting for me in the lobby.
She was talking the ear off a young family, telling them about all the fun they could have this week.
The wife looked nervous, but the children’s eyes were alight with stories of sledding and skating, Santa and cookies.
How could they cancel now? She truly was a born salesman.
Jack was behind the desk. He waved me over. “I’m stuck here on this screen, and I don’t know what to do.”
I took a quick look at the computer, hit the escape button, and the software went back to the main page.
Jack blew out a relieved breath. “You’re a genius, Kelsey, thank you. I usually only work with a hammer. Tech stuff is not for me.”
I looked around the lobby. “Where’s Grace?”
“She and Rudy are having dinner at the Golden Spoon.”
That was sweet, a mother and son dinner date. No doubt encouraged by our mayor.
Her conversation finished, Carol headed over to me. “Ready?”
“How does it look out there?” Jack asked.
“As busy as any Sunday night in November,” she said proudly. “Restaurants booked, streets full.”
Her plan worked. Hounding usually did. But as I thought about it, her plan had a positive secondary effect. It would make the town look normal and safe, yes. But it also made it more safe. The killer couldn’t exactly grab someone off Main Street with everyone out and watching.
We took the creek path to Main Street, which at first sounded scary.
But it was well-lit and busier than the night Mary had taken a bonk to the head.
When we passed someone Carol didn’t know, she gave them a smile and said, “Lovely evening.” When we saw someone she did know, it was a lot more involved.
It gave me flashbacks to grocery shopping with my mother when I just wanted to get home and she kept running into friend after friend.
When we finally reached Main Street, Carol beamed. People strolled along the sidewalks, happily carrying their purchases. Tinny holiday music leaked from stores and restaurants as people opened and closed doors. Christmasville looked like its regular self.
“Care for a candy cane cocoa?” Carol suggested.
There was a sharp chill in the air, and a hot drink in my belly sounded soothing. “Sure!”
Candy Cane Dreams was a sweets shop that I surprisingly hadn’t had time to pop into yet.
The walls were brightly painted in pastel colors.
Rows of chocolates and fudge tempted customers from inside glass cases.
An intricate model of Main Street in gingerbread form adorned the top of one case.
The back wall was covered with containers of candy that you could pick and choose from and pay by the weight.
They also, according to Carol, served amazing hot chocolate.
“My treat,” Carol said, paying for two cocoas.
It wasn’t the money that I was worried about tonight. But I guessed if I was going to risk my life to ensure a better economy, it was nice to do it for free.
Each cup came with a candy cane hooked on the rim. I took a sip and could taste just a hint of peppermint as it melted.
“Should we take these outside?” Carol suggested. “Keep walking?”
“Whatever you think,” I said, because I knew my opinion didn’t matter anyway. I just wanted to get my face time in, not die, and huddle back under my covers.
As we strolled, smiling at passersby and looking in windows, I realized that I didn’t know anything about Carol’s personal life. All she talked about was work.
“Are you married?” I asked.
She looked at me, eyebrows raised at the sudden question.
“I was once. We knew each other as children, here in town. We went our separate ways for college, found ourselves back here after graduation, and fell in love. But he wanted to leave Christmasville, and I wanted to stay. We couldn’t work it out. ”
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely.
“It was a long time ago.” She inhaled deeply and glanced around. “People fill their lives with family and children. Christmasville is my baby. I love it like a child. I’ll never leave. So, sure, I chose the town over him. But he chose the outside world over me. Same ending, either way.”
She didn’t sound sad as much as resigned. “Have you ever thought about marrying again?” I asked.
Carol looked at me in horror, as if I’d suggested she stab herself in the eye. “And go through that pain again? No, thank you.”
“Love doesn’t always end in hurt.”
“No, it doesn’t. But when it does …” She let out a low whistle.
I never would have guessed that the thing Carol and I would have in common was our dating life, but here we were. Both hurt and both scared to move on. Though I thought Carol had given up completely. I never wanted to reach that point. I still had hope.
“What about you?” she asked with a glint in her eye. “I’ve heard whispers about Ellison Shaw and that handsome blond businessman.”
“Aaron,” I said, and an involuntary smile came over my face. “He is generous, smart, ambitious, and obviously very handsome. But …”
“But Ellison Shaw,” she filled in with a teasing tone.
“Yes. Ellison Shaw.” I sounded like a lovestruck teenager saying his name. “He’s kind, funny, and equally handsome. But …”
“But the ex-boyfriend,” Carol guessed. “Is there still something there?”
“God, no,” I said with revulsion. “But he may have ruined me for all men.”
She stopped walking and grabbed my arm. Her eyes bore into mine. “Don’t give him that power.”
“But you said … you’re the same … you …” I sputtered.
She released my arm and took in a deep breath. “Listen, Kelsey. There are a lot of things about me you should emulate. My professionalism, my drive for success, my fashion sense. But my personal life? I wouldn’t wish that on anyone. Learn from my mistakes.”
I swallowed hard. “I’ll try.”
She looked over my shoulder and waved at a trio of women. “And with that, you’re free to go. See you in the morning. We have a lot of work to do.”
“We’re finished for the night?” I asked. “You don’t need me anymore?”
She glanced at her watch. “Well, if you’d like to head to the Silver Bell for drinks with me and three women from the library trustees, you’re welcome to.” She added with a knowing grin, “Or you could head back to the inn by yourself.”
“Yeah,” I said quickly. “I think I have to head back.”
With the moon bright in the sky and the glimmering lights of Main Street ahead, I didn’t even feel fear as I walked home.
But there was no way I was taking that creek path alone.
It was road the whole way. Carol may have been convinced that the three deaths were unrelated.
But I had a sinking feeling that it was only the beginning.
In a town this small, in such a short span of time, how could they not be related?
But what did a visiting salesman, a town hall assistant, and a social media influencer have in common? The victims were male and female, young and old, resident and visitor. They had nothing in common except …
Mr. Sudbeck was a jerk who’d been rude to many people in town. Mary was a grump who spent most of her time complaining. And Isabella had faults no filter could hide.
If they had a connection, it wasn’t about who they were …
It was about what someone thought they deserved.