Crushed in Christmas River Page 7

  But I guess it was a universal truth that couldn’t be argued with — people did crazy, irrational things for money.

  I didn’t know what would happen to Alicia Duncan, but I knew one thing: she wouldn’t be going to that prestigious dance school back east anytime soon.

  She was just lucky that nobody had died from her wild antics. Bob had suffered a broken leg and a concussion, but it looked like he was going to be all right as long as he took it easy. Same went for June McKinney.

  The Ballroom Dance Competition organizers had caught wind of what had happened, and there were rumors that the event would be cancelled this year, with the prize money going into a fund set aside for the victims of Alicia Duncan.

  “Thanks for coming by and updating me about all of this, Cin,” I said, setting aside the completed ornament round and starting on the next one.

  “Of course,” she said, taking a sip of the Huckleberry latte. “It’s just so weird, though. How is it that the Christmas in July Play always seems to be cursed?”

  I shrugged.

  I hadn’t been able to explain it.

  And now it looked like nobody would ever get a chance to.

  “Maybe it’s a good thing they do away with it,” I said. “Before someone actually gets killed.”

  Cin shrugged her shoulders and looked out the window for a long moment.

  “I guess,” she said. “Still, it might be a little sad without it every July.”

  I glanced at her, raising my eyebrows.

  “I thought you said you were looking forward to the folk festival they’re going to replace it with.”

  She shrugged her shoulders again.

  “What can I say? The Christmas in July Parade and Play is a Christmas River tradition. Is it a giant pain every year? Yes. Could we replace it with something better? Probably. But it makes me sad to think my kids won’t get to enjoy the parade and play one day.”

  I snapped my head back in surprise.

  It had been the first time I’d heard her speak about having kids one day like that, and it brought a big smile to my lips.

  I was going to ask her more about it, but just then, the front door of the ornament shop let out a sluggish chime. I looked up to see none other than Gertrude Baxter hobble in.

  Her leg was still in a cast, but she was walking without crutches and she weaved through the Christmas trees of my shop with remarkable agility.

  I set down my paintbrush. Then I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes at her.

  “Oh no, you don’t, Gertrude. Don’t you come into my shop after what you did to me. Not after telling John that you saw me having lunch with Riley Dugan the other afternoon.”

  Cin gave me a puzzled expression at that.

  Gertrude paused for a moment, letting out a dramatic sigh, before continuing on her way to the cash register.

  I noticed that she was carrying a plate covered in aluminum foil.

  “I didn’t mean to, Kara,” Gertrude said after a long moment. “It just kind of… I don’t know… slipped out.”

  “Oh, sure it did.”

  I didn’t buy that excuse for one second. She’d told John about it with malicious intent. She might have been feeling guilty about it now, but that didn’t change the fact that she’d done what she’d done.

  “Look, I’m not proud of what I did. And I, well… I came by here to say sorry and also thanks for doing your best as Mrs. Claus,” she said. “I felt guilty after I heard about that car almost running you down. Here—”

  She handed the aluminum-covered plate to me.

  “I made you some lemon sugar cookies. I know lemon’s your favorite.”

  I glanced at Gertrude skeptically.

  “You think a few cookies will make it all okay?”

  She looked down guiltily.

  “No. But I hope it’s a start.”

  I narrowed my eyes at her, keeping my arms tight across my chest for as long as I could.

  But in the end, I knew I wasn’t kidding anyone.

  I was an absolute sucker for anything lemon flavored. And more than that, I knew eventually I’d have to forgive Gertrude and let all of this go.

  It was never good to go to war with the town gossip — as I had learned the year before during my battles with Moira Stewart. And frankly, I didn’t have it in me anymore these days to pay attention to such minor nonsense.

  I had a child to raise, a business to run, a romance series to write—

  And cookies to eat.

  I reached for the plate, ripping off the aluminum cover and stuffing one of the powdery delights in my mouth.

  It wasn’t as good as Moira Stewart’s salted shortbread. But Gertrude was well on her way to filling the old lady’s shoes as Christmas River’s premier town gossip.

  “All right, Gertrude,” I said, chewing in a very unladylike fashion. “I forgive you. But don’t do it again. And just so we’re all clear, there is NOTHING going on between me and Riley Dugan. I am a happily married woman and Riley and I are just friends. And that’s all there is to tell.”

  I glanced from Cin to Gertrude.

  “Capisce?” I said.

  They both nodded.

  I stuck the plate out, offering a cookie to both of them.

  They really were quite tasty.

  After a long moment of silence in which we were all enjoying the buttery treats, Gertrude spoke up.

  “I can’t believe this whole time, Alicia Duncan was behind hurting everyone,” Gertrude said. “I mean, she run down her own friend. It’s mad!”

  I nodded and went back to painting my ornament while she spoke.

  “And the lengths she went to get that first place prize... Just think about it — to sneak into somebody’s house and to put something down on their floor so they would slip is just crazy. This whole time, I’ve been blaming Pancho’s drool when it was really Alicia Duncan who caused me to break my leg.”

  She paused, a smug look of satisfaction drifting across her face.

  “I can’t really blame her, though,” she said. “Benjy and I were probably going to sweep the competition if she hadn’t sabotaged us. I guess it just shows what a real threat we were. That $20,000 would have been ours easy if she hadn’t done what she’d done.”

  She smiled arrogantly.

  After a long moment, Cin cleared her throat.

  “Uh, actually Gertrude… Daniel said that he asked Alicia about breaking in to your house. She confessed to hurting everyone else, but she said she didn’t even know you had entered the competition. She, uh, she doesn’t even know where you live.”

  Gertrude’s face darkened to a shade of beet juice when Cin said that.

  I couldn’t help but smile a little at seeing Gertrude’s absurd fantasy get a little much-deserved deflating.

  But I was proud of myself. I didn’t laugh, the way I wanted to.

  “Well…” she stammered, looking away. “Of course that's what she said. The girl's clearly a liar… She must have...”

  Gertrude trailed off.

  I glanced at Cin. She was keeping a straight face, but I could see the laughter growing in her eyes.

  “Maybe,” I said. “But then maybe sometimes in life, Gertrude, a person just slips on dog drool.”

  Gertrude struggled to say something more, but seemed to be having a devil of a time finding the words.

  Cin had to turn her face so that Gertrude wouldn’t see how red she was getting by keeping the laughter down.

  I looked back at Gertrude.

  “Don’t worry, sugar pie,” I said. “We’ve all been there. Another cookie?”

  Chapter 22

  I was closing up the shop after a long day — after a long week, in fact — when I heard the front door let out a low chime.

  I looked up from where I was at the cash register, my breath leaving my body in one fell swoop.

  He came walking in like Marlon Brando on a movie set. He wore a pair of dark shades, a white t-shirt, and there was a black leat
her jacket tossed over his shoulder. The moment he walked in, the shop was filled with the aroma of his coconut aftershave, and it made my knees practically turn to Jell-O.

  “Hey — glad I caught you before you left for the day,” he said when he saw me behind the cash register.

  I smiled a little bashfully, watching as he sauntered up to me.

  “How’ve you been, Riley?”

  I hadn’t seen or heard from him since the day Alicia Duncan was caught — and that was over a week ago. I knew he was on duty at the firehouse during that time, so I didn’t take it too personally. But still, I thought after what had happened, he might have checked in with me. Just to make sure I was okay.

  But then again, the play was over. And now there was really no reason for us to see each other anymore.

  “I’m good,” he said. “It’s been slow at the firehouse this week, but August is coming up and soon we’ll have our hands full with the wildfires.”

  He took off his sunglasses and looked around my store for a long moment.

  “Cool place you got here.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  He let out a short sigh.

  “Listen, Kara. I wanted to thank you again for saving my life last week. I mean, really — thank you. If you hadn’t reacted so fast, I would’ve...”

  He trailed off, shaking his head.

  “I don’t know. But it wouldn’t have been good.”

  “You’re welcome, Riley. And like I said, you saved me, too, so we’re even now.”

  His eyes lingered on mine for a long moment.

  Then he stepped forward, leaning on the counter.

  “I also wanted to tell you that I’m leaving Christmas River come September.”

  I felt the breath leave my lungs again.

  “Really?”

  He nodded.

  “I’m moving to L.A. After what happened last week, I realized that life is short. Way too short to not be yourself, you know? And it doesn’t pay to sit around and just think about your dreams. You got to go chase them down with everything you’ve got.”

  A look of determination came across his face.

  “I love acting,” he continued. “I’m not going to hide it anymore. And I’m going to go give it a real shot. If I don’t make it in Hollywood, then at least I’ll know I’ve tried and I can quit thinking so much about it.”

  I smiled slightly.

  It made me a little sad to hear he was leaving. But it also made me happy — happy that he was going to go after something big.

  “That’s really great, Riley. I’m proud of you.”

  He smiled back.

  Then he did something unexpected. He reached forward, brushing his hand lightly against my cheek.

  “It feels bittersweet, though,” he said. “Knowing I’ll be leaving here.”

  He looked into my eyes.

  “Leaving you.”

  I stared back, my heart thumping hard in my chest.

  “I know it’s not right to have these feelings,” he said. “I know you’re married. But I can’t help it. I like you, Kara. I think… I mean…”

  He sighed.

  “I’ve got a couple months before I leave,” he whispered. “That’s not a lot of time, but maybe it’s enough. If you feel at all the way—”

  I shook my head before he could finish the sentence.

  Then I reached for his hand, taking it and setting it down on the counter where it belonged.

  If I was being honest, I had a little bit of a crush on Riley Dugan.

  But just like he’d learned something during our ordeal last week, so had I.

  In the moments when the car was coming toward us — those moments when my life flashed before my eyes — I’d figured something out.

  John and Laila were the ones I saw first. The ones that would always come first.

  The ones who made my life worth living — for now, and for always.

  And I loved them with my entire heart and soul.

  Riley Dugan would never hold a candle to what I had with John. Or to the beautiful life he’d given me.

  “You’re very sweet,” I said, looking back at Riley. “And I’m flattered. But I love my husband. I love our life together. And there’s nothing more to discuss here.”

  He looked a little crestfallen as I said the words, but I also could see he’d been half expecting them.

  I came around the cash register and started showing him out of the ornament store.

  “I know it might hurt a little now,” I said. “But just think, Riley. By this time next year, you’ll probably be engaged to some beautiful actress and shopping for a house in the Hollywood Hills.”

  I smiled, opening the front door.

  “Who knows? Maybe you’ll be getting nominated for your first Academy Award later that year, too.”

  The corners of his mouth turned up a little at that.

  I leaned forward, giving him a hug.

  “Goodbye, Kara,” he said softly.

  “Goodbye Riley Dugan. Break a leg in L.A. and don’t forget to write.”

  Chapter 23

  “Wait,” I said. “What if Chief Morton finds out?”

  He pulled me closer to him, his hands like hot butter dripping down my back.

  “I’m not going to tell him,” he whispered, his breath dancing on the back of my neck like burning Saharan winds. “Are you?”

  He gazed down at me. I was completely mesmerized by his dark eyes. Eyes as silky as a moonless night. Or the feathers of a raven. Or a blackout chocolate cake.

  “My husband can never know,” I whispered. “You understand? Never.”

  “He won’t.”

  He lifted me in his arms.

  “You have my word. Just like you have my heart.”

  He kissed me with a devouring passion as he carried me through the empty fire station’s living quarters. He ripped off my dress, tossed me onto one of the beds, and—

  “How’s the writing going, honey?”

  I looked up from my computer to see John standing there in the doorway to my office, wearing an apron.

  I grinned.

  “Great. I’m halfway through the first draft of my follow up to The Magic Slipper. At this rate, I’ll have this published by the first day of fall.”

  “That’s incredible, honey. Just wanted to let you know dinner will be ready in five minutes.”

  “It smells divine,” I said.

  All afternoon, the earthy aroma of roasted sweet potatoes had filled the house. Now, that aroma had intermingled with the heavenly smell of baking bread.

  “It’s a goat cheese sweet potato pizza with rosemary,” he said. “I think you’ll like this one. The recipe’s got 4.9 stars out of 5 online.”

  “Mmm. I can’t wait,” I said.

  He turned to leave, but I called after him before he reached the hallway.

  “John?”

  He turned around.

  “Thanks so much for all the cooking you’ve been doing lately. And for being such a good husband to me all of these years.”

  He looked a little surprised for a moment, then his cheeks darkened. He struggled to find the words.

  But I knew what he meant.

  “I love you, John,” I said.

  “I love you, too, Kara,” he said, smiling.

  He left after a moment, and I let out a dreamy sigh.

  I spent the next few minutes writing the rest of the scene at the fire station. Then I closed my laptop, feeling a content smile come to my lips.

  I’d finally found a place for Riley Dugan that suited us all.

  The End

  Continue on for two delicious recipes featured in this novella!

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  CHRISTMAS IS COMING…

  Look for the following Meg Muldoon titles available in the fall/winter of 2018!

  Mistake in Christmas River: A Christmas River Cozy Mystery (Book 11)

  Midnight in Christmas River: A Christmas River Cozy Mystery Novel

  Mistletoe in Christmas River: A Christmas River Cozy Mystery Novella

  PLUS don’t miss the grand opening of Meg Muldoon Studios Etsy Shop this fall!

  Inspired jewelry, heartwarming ornaments, and gifts with cozy flair all lovingly handcrafted by Meg! Mailing list subscribers will receive a coupon when the shop opens, so be sure to sign-up!

  The Meg Muldoon Collection

  The Christmas River Cozy Mystery Series

  Murder in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 1)

  Mayhem in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 2)

  Madness in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 3)

  Malice in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 4)

  Mischief in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 5)

  Manic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 6)

  Magic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 7)

  Menace in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 8)

  Missing in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 9)

  Meltdown in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Book 10)

  The Christmas River Cozy Mystery Novella Series

  Roasted in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery Novella (Book 1)