Kate Kingsbury - Herald Of Death

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A dark spirit threatens the Pennyfoot's shiny and bright Christmas…
The Christmas Angel is a welcome sight during the winter season-but not this year. A killer is afoot in Badger's End, cutting a lock of hair from his victims and sticking a gold angel on their foreheads. Cecily Sinclair Baxter already promised her husband that she'd take a hiatus from sleuthing. But three killings have created a blizzard of bad publicity-and guests are canceling their hotel reservations. She will have to find the angel of death before he strikes again, leaving murder under the tree…

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“Very nice. You look like a professional up there.”

She beamed at him. “Really? You really think so?”

“Yes, I really think so.” He disappeared, only to appear a moment later in the wings. “Come over here. I have to hook you up to the wires.”

She walked over to him, tingling with nervous excitement. He turned her around with gentle hands and fitted the harness she’d worn earlier over her shoulders and around her midriff.

“Now,” he said, when he was done, “the trick is to arch your back and keep your head up. Like this.” He curved his back, stretched out his arms, and swooped them around as if he were flying. “Now let me see you do it.”

Pansy copied him as best she could.

“More,” Clive said, putting a hand against the middle of her back. “Stretch it out, right here.”

He applied pressure, and she pushed her hips forward. “Like this?”

“That’s it. Now I want you to run back and forth across the stage, feeling the pull of the wires. Don’t try to fly just yet, just get the feel of it.”

She did as he asked, running back and forth while he called out, “Arch that back! Head up! Shoulders back!”

Just as she was getting tired of it all, halfway across the stage she felt the wires tugging and her feet left the floor. She uttered a little shriek of surprise, and lost her posture for a moment.

Clive called out to her, urging her to keep her head up, and then she was flying, swooping across the stage like a bird. At first she was scared, but gradually her fear melted away and she was having fun. No, it was more than that. It was the most thrilling experience of her life. She wanted it to go on forever.

She felt a deep regret when Clive called out, “That’s enough!” Her feet touched the floor and she managed to land gracefully, though her body felt heavy and clumsy when she walked over to him.

“That was so… so…” She couldn’t think of a word good enough to describe the sensation.

Clive grinned. “You’re a natural,” he said, unhooking the wires from her back. “You’ll be a splendid Tinker Bell.”

“Thanks to you.” She smiled up at him. She’d never noticed before, but he had a really nice smile. In fact, he was almost handsome in a rough sort of way. A big man, too. Big enough to tower over Gertie.

Remembering her Christmas wish for her friend, Pansy decided to seize the chance to make it come true. “I was wondering what to give Gertie for a Christmas present,” she said, struggling to take off the harness. “Do you have any ideas?”

Clive raised his eyebrows. “Me? I don’t really know what she likes.”

Pansy pretended to think. “Well, I know what she wants, but I don’t think I can get it for her.”

To her relief, Clive took the bait. “What does she want, then?”

Pansy leaned closer. “Well, don’t tell her I told you, but she’s lonely. She wants to meet someone nice who will love her and take care of her and the twins.”

Clive got a really strange expression on his face. “Oh, she does, does she? That’s a bit of a tall order for a Christmas present.”

Pansy heaved a loud sigh. “Yeah, I know. I would love to get it for her, but I suppose I’ll have to make do with handkerchiefs or something.”

“Probably.” Clive’s voice sounded funny and he cleared his throat. “Well, I have to be off. I have to make my rounds before turning off all the lamps.”

“Oh, all right.” Pansy smoothed down the ruffles in her frock caused by the harness. “Thank you so much, Clive. That was really nice of you to teach me to fly.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” Clive touched his forehead with his fingers. “Give my regards to Gertie.”

“Oh, I will!” Pansy tore off the stage and across the ballroom. Now to put into motion the second part of her plan. One way or another, she’d get Gertie and Clive together for Christmas. It was the very least she could do for her friend.

CHAPTER 17

“I had a lovely talk with Clive,” Pansy said, as she dragged a large china tureen from the soapy water.

Gertie took it from her and stood it on the draining board. “Did he teach you how to fly?”

“Yes, he did.” Pansy felt her face growing warm as she told Gertie about the lesson. “It was the most fantastic feeling, flying across that stage like I was a bird. I wish I could fly like that without wires. It must be so wonderful to be a bird, flying up into the sky and over the chimney tops without having to worry about falling down.”

“There’s a machine you can fly in,” Gertie said. “I read about it in the newspaper. It said that one day people will be able to fly in it from one town to another without ever touching the ground.”

“Go on!” Pansy stared at her, feeling a longing so strong it took her breath away. “Oo, how I’d love to do that!”

“Well, maybe you will, one day.” Gertie held out her hand for the next dish. “But for now you’ll have to make do with wires, and if we don’t get these dishes done soon, all the lamps will be out in the hallways and we’ll be feeling our way along in the dark.”

Speaking of the lamps reminded Pansy of her plan. “Oh, I forgot to tell you. Clive said he needed new wicks in the main hallway lamps. I told him I’d take some up for him, save him coming all the way down here to the supply room. He’s late making his rounds tonight because of all the time he spent teaching me to fly.”

“That was good of you.”

“Yeah.” Pansy leaned down and rubbed her knee, screwing her face up as if in pain. “Only I hurt my knee when I landed wrong. I was wondering if you’d mind taking them up for me.”

Gertie stacked two plates on the draining board and picked up the tureen. “Daisy’s going to kill me if I don’t get back there soon.”

“I know, I’m really sorry, but Clive will be waiting for me and with this bad knee and all…”

Vigorously polishing the tureen with a dry tea towel, Gertie rolled her eyes. “All right, I’ll go. But you’ll have to put this lot away before you go to bed.” She gestured at the dishes.

“I will, I promise.” Pansy glanced at the kitchen clock. “You’d better go now, though. Clive will be wondering where I am.”

Gertie threw down the towel and dragged off her apron. “I’m going. I’m going.” She waved a hand as she headed for the door. “G’night.”

Pansy grinned and waved back. “Good night. Good luck!”

Gertie gave her a puzzled look and disappeared.

Pansy smiled as she lifted the last dish from the sink. She’d done her best to set the scene. Now it was up to Clive. She just hoped Gertie would appreciate her efforts when Clive invited her to go out with him.

Humming to herself, she carefully piled the dishes into the cupboard. Now she could go to bed and dream she was flying. All by herself over the ocean and on to foreign lands. What an adventure that would be.

Gertie stomped up the stairs, none too pleased at being cajoled into an errand that would make her late to relieve Daisy of her duties. Although, since Daisy had time off to go shopping earlier, it wouldn’t hurt her to stay up a bit longer.

That wasn’t what was bothering her now, though. After what Doris had said about Clive being in love with her, she was feeling awkward about seeing him again. Especially being alone with him in the darkness of the halls, late at night. Just thinking about it gave her goose pimples.

She was relieved to see that some of the lamps were still lit as she reached the foyer and crossed to the hallway. The long corridor leading to the ballroom was in darkness, however, and so far she’d seen no sign of Clive.

Just as she was about to find her way down there, she heard a scuffling sound from close to the ballroom doors. Squinting, she peered into the black shadows, but couldn’t see anything moving.

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