Молли Фитц - Hoppy Holiday Homicide

Officer Bouchard stayed on high alert. “Whoa there, slow down. Start by telling me who you are and how you discovered the bodies.”

I placed a hand on Mags’s shoulder to let her know that I could handle things from here. “Go get some latkes or more cocoa or gingerbread cookies, or something. I’ll catch Officer Bouchard up on what we discovered.”

“Should I go with her, Mommy?” Paisley asked from somewhere near my ankle.

“Mags,” I called after her. “Take Paisley with you.”

The little dog took off running and also barking, though for no apparent reason.

I watched until Mags scooped her into a cuddle, then I turned back to the waiting policeman. “Let me show you what we found.”

As we walked the short distance to the hulking Christmas tree sculpture and the bodies that lay behind it, I informed Officer Bouchard of the no-show judges and the last-minute change up that required Mags and me to take their places. I also explained that Mags was my cousin visiting from Georgia.

“I didn’t know you had family in Georgia,” he said, tilting his head to study me as we walked.

“Neither did we. At least not until a couple months ago. Anyway, here’s the crime scene.” I motioned toward the bodies, even though he couldn’t have missed them if he’d been blind in one eye and couldn’t see out the other.

“Are we done now?” Octo-Cat groused. “I know your imagination’s already running wild with a hundred thousand ideas of who done it and why. But I heard that the Little Dog Diner has a booth set up somewhere around here, and Octavius needs himself a lobster roll.”

It took all the strength not to roll my eyes at this expression of my cat’s misplaced priorities. Thankfully, I think I managed to pull it off. Studying the melting ice weapon, I asked the officer, “Do you know who they are?”

Officer Bouchard hooked his thumbs through his beltloops and rocked on his heels. “Can’t see the woman’s face, but the man I recognize as Fred Hapley. He sells health insurance all across the state, and I’m pretty sure he’s one of the missing judges you mentioned. If memory serves, he was also a last-minute addition.”

My breaths rose in icy little puffs as I thought about where we should take things from here. “My mom should be able to confirm it and let us know who the other judge was supposed to be and whether this is her. She’s not technically on the planning committee, but she’ll have memorized the setup before coming out as part of planning her news piece. Should I call her over?”

Officer Bouchard sucked air through his teeth. “Not just yet, if you don’t mind. Your mother’s a good woman and an ace reporter, but I need some time to investigate and call in backup before the press gets involved. You understand, don’t you?”

I nodded vigorously. No one understood my mother’s drive to get the story at any cost better than I did. “What are you going to do when festivalgoers start coming through the sculpture garden?” I asked, worried we’d end up creating a scene whether or not we wanted one.

He quirked one eyebrow. “You said you and your cousin are the new judges, right?”

“Yep.”

“Then why don’t you get her back here? And you two can guard the entrance so that nobody wanders inside.”

“There’s an exit, too,” I pointed out, searching for that red ribbon the sign had mentioned.

“Well, that’s perfect then,” he said with a grin. “There are two ways in, and there are two of you. I shouldn’t need long, but I sure do appreciate your help in keeping this under wraps.”

“Okay, let me go find Mags,” I said, hating to leave before we’d figured out much of anything.

“Finally,” Octo-Cat grumbled. “I’m starving. I may have even lost a life because of it. I can’t believe you’ve made me wait so long for my lobster roll.”

Little did he know his lobster roll was not even close to next on our agenda. I had to find Mags, and then I had to find out what had happened to the slain judge and the as-of-yet unidentified body.

Chapter Six

I found Mags at the latke stall, pushing potato pancakes dipped in applesauce into her mouth almost faster than she could chew them.

“Oh, I didn’t know you’d be coming back so soon,” she mumbled with one hand covering her mouth politely. “Otherwise, I would have saved you some.” Her face turned red with embarrassment. “I’m a nervous eater, you see. These things didn’t stand a chance.”

I laughed and shook my head, happy to see her at least a little more relaxed than she’d been a few minutes back. “No judgment here. We have to get back to help Officer Bouchard, anyway.”

Mags tossed her trash into a nearby canister and wiped her mouth with the side of her hand. “Are you sure we have to go back there? I don’t know if this kind of thing happens often here, but I’m not used to dead bodies turning up back home in Georgia.” She said this with more of a Southern twang than usual, no doubt longing for the safety of good ol’ reliable Larkhaven.

“Well, it’s kind of my job as a P.I.,” I explained with a shrug. “Although it's not always murder. Sometimes I deal with other kinds of crooks, too.”

“But can’t we just enjoy the Holiday Spectacular? You’ve told me so much about it, and I’ve been looking forward to this part of our visit. Plus, you might not be scared that there’s a murderer on the loose, but I sure am. Maybe we can make a quick circuit and then get the heck out of here.”

I looped my arm through my cousin’s and marched back with her toward the ice sculpture garden. “We just need to do this one quick thing to help out Officer Bouchard, and then we’ll get back to the festivities, I promise.”

“Where’s my lobster roll?” Octo-Cat whined, then growled, then sighed in defeat. “Unhook me from this hideous torture device, and I’ll go grab one for myself, seeing as you’re proving to be rather useless today.”

Paisley growled from deep within her throat. “Don’t talk to Mommy that way. She’s busy being a superhero, and it's our job to be her sidekicks.”

Octo-Cat tensed on the end of his leash. He definitely thought of himself as the Sherlock to my Watson, so Paisley’s suggestion that I was the one in charge was sure to rankle.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he said with a sneer, “she’s pretending we’re not even here. So, why do we owe her anything when there’s really no way to help?”

Now it was Paisley who whined as her prick ears fell back against her neck while her tail went between her legs. “Just because it's not easy doesn’t mean it’s not the right thing to do.”

“Oh, dear sweet dogling, you have so much to learn. For starters, the best life should always be easy and also filled with sunspots and Evian and my long overdue lobster roll.”

Hard as it was to not jump into that particular conversation, I kept my eyes glued straight ahead and my feet focused on returning to the crime scene as quickly as possible.

Mags seemed to wilt more and more the closer we drew to the garden.

“Sorry for dragging you into this,” I offered with an apologetic smile. “But it will be over soon. He just needs the area secured until backup can arrive.”

We reached the sculpture of a crystalline rose that marked the start of the spiral viewing trail. I left Mags there and headed toward the exit.

“Wait! Where are you going?” she called after me, trembling uncertainty returning to her voice.

“I’ll just be over there, keeping an eye on the exit. If you take a few steps out onto the street, you’ll even be able to see me,” I explained calmly. “Text if you need anything, even if it's just to chat and pass the time. We’ll be finished up here before you know it, and then we can let the police handle the rest. Okay?”