Trouble Under the Tree (A Nina Quinn Mystery) Page 15

  “Nancy?” Nancy, who wasn’t Nancy at all. I’d totally forgotten to give Kevin that information. I needed to call him. “What does she have to do with this?” I held up the picture.

  “See this?” She reached for a different picture. One taken at a basketball game when Maria was cheering. This one showed the squad from a different angle—it also captured some of the audience. “Look here.” She pointed at a woman in the crowd.

  A woman that looked a lot like Nancy Davidson.

  “Nancy Davidson has a doppelganger,” Maria said. “It had been driving me crazy, thinking I knew her. Then I realized how I knew her. Through cheering.”

  “Who is that?” I asked.

  “Emily Hodges. Carrie’s mom?”

  My jaw dropped. Suddenly, everything made sense.

  Why Nancy had suddenly become ill when Maria came into Santa’s Cottage.

  The sabotage at Christmastowne.

  The address on her application. There had been something located on that stretch of that road...

  A small white cross. The cross that probably marked the site where Carrie Hodges died.

  “I’d bet you my Swiss Miss that she’s not a doppelganger,” I said, explaining. “Nancy is Emily. But what I’m wondering is just how far she’d take her revenge against the Christmases.”

  “You’re not suggesting Emily is a killer, are you? Because that’s crazy talk.”

  “No, that’s logical.”

  Maria jumped up. “I don’t believe it. I’m going to go talk to her.”

  “What? You can’t! She might be dangerous.”

  “Crazy talk,” she sang, headed for her coat closet. “I’m going and you can’t stop me.”

  I ran after her. “If I can’t stop you, then I’m coming with you.”

  Chapter Twenty

  Maria remembered exactly where Carrie Hodges had lived.

  I pulled my truck into the driveway of the two-story farmhouse, not too far from the crash-site where Carrie had died.

  Goats played in a pen near the house, and I could hear the clucking of chickens from nearby. I wanted to go play with the goats (they were incredibly cute), but Maria pulled me along the driveway.

  The front door opened long before we reached it, and Nancy—Emily—appeared in the doorway wiping her hands on a dishtowel. “Come on in, girls.”

  We wiped our feet on the welcome mat and followed Emily inside. A weak fire crackled in a stone hearth. Two well-worn sofas faced each other, and a large area rug covered a pine floor. There were pictures everywhere—some of Carrie on the mantel and the walls, but on clothesline that criss-crossed the room hung dozens of photos taken at Christmastowne. Random shots, pictures of the Christmases, of Benny and Glory, of Benny and Fairlane. Of everything.

  “I’d wondered if you’d recognized me yesterday, Maria. I didn’t realize the two of you were sisters—or I might not have become so friendly with you, Nina. Sit, sit.”

  We sat opposite her, but immediately Maria stood up and walked over to the fireplace to look at pictures of Carrie. “She was so pretty.”

  She was. And now that I knew the relation, I could see Carrie in her mother. The same bright eyes, the dimples.

  “Do you remember the time my cheer shorts split before a performance, and Carrie used a bobby pin and an earring to pin it until we could find a needle and thread?”

  Emily smiled and nodded. “She was always an inventive girl.”

  “Well, she saved my butt that day. Literally.”

  Emily looked at me. “I suppose you figured out that I’m the one who was sabotaging Christmastowne.”

  “We guessed,” I said. “But didn’t know for sure.”

  Wringing the dishtowel for all it was worth, she said, “I couldn’t let them profit from Carrie’s death.”

  My brow crinkled. “Profit?”

  Anger tinged her words. “Jenny and Benny used the settlement from the accident as a startup for the business. They don’t deserve that money, and come hell or high water, I wasn’t going to let their business thrive. It’s blood money. My daughter’s blood.”

  Maria sat back down, and I said, “But Emily, the insurance company wouldn’t have paid out if they didn’t think Carrie was liable—even if it was an accident.”

  Emily shook her head. “Benny was drunk.”

  “Not legally,” I said.

  “Doesn’t matter,” she countered. “It was close to the legal limit. Enough to impair him.”

  “There was ice...” I said.

  “There’s an accident reconstructionist at the insurance company who contacted me privately with a theory. He said that there wasn’t enough proof to prove his theory, but he wanted to let me know in case I wanted to pursue a case privately. He was getting a lot of heat from his bosses to close the case, since Benny was so high-profile.”

  “What theory?” I asked.

  “Based on the reconstructionist’s findings, he thinks Carrie first swerved hard right onto the shoulder of the road, hit the gravel, then swerved left to keep from going off into the trees. It was then that she hit the ice and skidded across the yellow lines and into Benny’s car. Why would she do that? Swerve right like that?”

  “Ice?” Maria guessed.

  “The road was dry where she’d first gone off.”

  I stared blankly. I had no idea.

  “The reconstructionist said he’d seen this type of pattern before. Imagine if you’re driving along and ahead you see a car coming the opposite way swerve into your lane. What do you do?”

  Swerve right to avoid a collision. My eyes widened.

  “Benny was drunk,” Emily said again.

  I said, “He crossed into Carrie’s lane first?”

  “I told you he was guilty,” Maria said smugly.

  Emily nodded. “But there wasn’t enough proof. And the only person alive to tell what happened that night was the guilty party. Why would he tell the truth? He’d end up in jail on vehicular manslaughter charges. He’s a liar, he’s a lech, he’s despicable, and he killed my daughter. He deserves every bad thing that happens to him.”

  “Amen,” Maria breathed, sinking back onto the couch.

  “It makes me sick seeing him prance around Christmastowne,” Emily said, “flirting with anyone who has double X chromosomes. He thinks he’s above prosecution. His ego is so large that I’m surprised it fits through the doorway. In his eyes, he does no wrong. Not when he kills someone and not when he cheats on his wife.”

  And not when he attacks poor landscape designers in his office, either.

  Was he a narcissist? Or a sociopath?

  “Did you see him cheat on Jenny?” I asked, hoping to hear what kind of information she’d dug up on Benny.

  “Let me count the ways,” she said. Motioning to the pictures on the clothesline, she added, “There are pictures up there of him with Fairlane, Glory, a girl from the food court, one of the elves at Santa’s Cottage, and with one of the health department inspectors. He’s a pig.”

  “A scummy, scuzzy pig,” Maria added.

  I agreed. “What were you planning to do with the pictures?”

  She continued to wring the dishtowel. “I was hoping to see Christmastowne never open—and I hoped with all my little bits of sabotage that it wouldn’t, but Jenny’s a fighter. I give her credit for that.”

  I kept my opinion of Jenny to myself.

  “She’s going to be crushed when she learns about all Benny’s cheating,” Emily added.

  I continued keeping my mouth shut about Jenny.

  Instead, I said, “You set the fire in the bathroom? Cut the wires to the tree? The poinsettias?”

  “Yes, yes, and I’m really sorry.”

  All those plants... “Did you tamper with the security system?”

  “That wasn’t me.” She fidgeted.

  Suddenly, I wasn’t sure I believed her. “Do you know who killed Lele and Fairlane?”

  Blinking innocently, she shook her head. “I wish
I did. Those two weren’t innocent by any means, but they didn’t deserve their fate.”

  “What do you know about them?” I asked.

  “Well, I know Lele was not happy with Fairlane sleeping with Benny. She knew he played around, and she didn’t want her sister getting hurt.”

  Ah, the sordid things happening at Christmastowne.

  “And I know,” she continued, “that Fairlane was perhaps the biggest narcissist I’ve ever met. She loved no one more than herself.”

  “Not even her sister?” Maria asked.

  “No one,” Emily said.

  “Did you see Lele the morning she died?” I asked.

  “Actually, I did. I saw her and Fairlane arguing in the employee locker room.”

  “About?”

  “About Fairlane getting fired and ruining all their plans. They clammed up pretty fast when I came in.”

  Hmm.

  “That was the last time I saw her. I was out taking pictures, trying to catch Benny in the act with one of his floozies, but I couldn’t find him that morning.”

  “He wasn’t with Glory?” He’d been with her after the fire alarm went off.

  “Nope. It was the first place I checked.”

  “Did you see Jenny at all?”

  “Not that I can recall.” She stood up and walked through her clothesline photo gallery. “She’s not in any of my shots from that morning. You don’t think Jenny had anything to do with these murders, do you?”

  “I’m not sure,” I said carefully.

  “Well, if you can pin it on Benny, I’d be a happy mom.”

  Suddenly uneasy, I said to Maria, “We should go.”

  Maria nodded and gave Emily a big hug.

  Emily said, “I suppose you’ve already contacted the police about the sabotage?”

  “Someone will probably be contacting you,” I said. She didn’t need to know I’d be calling them as soon as Maria and I drove away. It was better to let her think they’d already been notified.

  She smiled. “That’s okay. It’ll make for a good chapter in my book.”

  “Your book?” I asked on the way to the door.

  “My tell-all about Benny. All-American Zero. I will bring him down one way or another. Mark my words.”

  We said our good-byes and walked to the truck. Maria buckled in, turned and looked at me, and said, “That last part was weird, right?”

  “Oh yeah.”

  “I understand a mother’s grief,” Maria said softly, “but she seems to be taking it to the next level.”

  Emily had definitely taken it to the next level.

  Maria threw me a look. “You don’t think Emily would have killed Fairlane and Fairlee just to frame Benny, do you?”

  “I thought that was crazy talk?”

  “It is! Because if it’s true, it would make Emily just as bad as Benny.” She glanced at me. “Right?”

  I drove past the little white cross on the side of the road and felt an ache in my chest. “Right.”

  Chapter Twenty-one

  As soon as I dropped off Maria, I headed for my mother’s house to pick up the plastic candles—and the motion camera.

  I dialed Kevin on my way and was a bit surprised he actually answered. There was a pit in my stomach. Would he joke about what he overheard this morning? Or be nice about it? Both sounded dreadful to me.

  “Nancy Davidson, or should I say Emily Hodges, just called,” he said before I could even get a word out. “I don’t suppose you had something to do with that?”

  “Maybe a little,” I said.

  “She’s coming in tomorrow morning for an interview.”

  “She has some pretty interesting things to say.”

  “Why do I feel like you’re talking about more than the sabotage?”

  I told him about mine and Maria’s theory.

  “That’s quite a leap,” he said.

  “Just something to look into. And here’s another theory for you.” I told him about Jenny’s visit to my office this morning. And how I suspected that she might have been the one to pay off the sisters.

  He whistled low. “That’s not so much of a leap.”

  “You’ll look into it?” I asked. Because, really, I didn’t want anything else to do with Christmastowne.

  “Of course,” he said.

  “Did you talk to Benny yet?”

  “Not yet. He’s been a little hard to track down. After what you just told me, I wouldn’t be surprised if Jenny warned him. He might have skipped town.”

  “He wouldn’t have,” I said.

  “Why not?”

  “He doesn’t think he did anything wrong, but I do believe Jenny might have ordered him to lie low.”

  “I’ll keep looking, and if I don’t find him soon, I’ll get a warrant for his arrest. You might want to keep a low profile until I bring him in.”

  “Do you think he’d come after me?”

  “Just be careful, Nina.”

  “I will.” I automatically checked my rearview mirror.

  “By the way...” he said.

  Oh no. Oh no. Don’t talk about Bobby. “Yes?” I said warily.

  He cleared his throat. “I, ah...”

  No, no, no!

  “Got the results back from the lab on Santa’s sack. It looks like it was definitely the way the killer moved Fairlee’s body.”

  I shuddered at the thought of Fairlee’s body being dragged through Christmastowne and no one noticing. “Did you talk to Drunk Dave about it yet?”

  “He claims that during the timeframe when Lele was killed Jenny had taken him to a local coffee shop to sober up a bit. His costume was in the employee locker room...anyone could have borrowed it. I’m re-interviewing employees to see if anyone has any more specifics. Height, weight, that kind of thing. I doubt they will.”

  “Why?”

  “Because everyone knew Dave as Santa. Even if they don’t mean to, they’ll assign his features to the mystery Santa.”

  I frowned as I turned onto my parents’ street and pulled up in front of their house. Sure enough, a dozen candles lined the driveway. It almost made me smile. Almost.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea that Riley works there anymore,” I said. I hated to be a bossy stepmom, but I couldn’t let him go back.

  “He already quit,” Kevin said. “Yesterday.”

  “Oh! Well, good.”

  “Nina, about this morning...”

  “I’ve got to go,” I said. “I’m at my parents’ house and about to catch a vandal.”

  “Do I want to know?”

  “I already told you yes. But some other time.” I quickly hung up.

  And prayed Kevin would pretend that he hadn’t heard a thing this morning. Not a single thing.

  ***

  “Take them away!” my mother cried.

  I’d already gathered the camera from the windowsill and slipped it into my backpack. I couldn’t wait to get home and look at the images recorded.

  Who would the vandal be?

  Why was that person torturing my mother this way?

  Was I going to turn the vandal in? Or thank him or her?

  My mood was definitely lifted.

  “I can only load them one at a time.” The candles were deceptively heavy. “Where’s Dad?”

  “Shopping. He better not buy me another robe and slippers.”

  Uh-oh. I was going to have to rethink my mother’s gifts.

  I unplugged the eighth candle and loaded it into the bed of my truck.

  My mother had her faux fur on, the hood up. “Now tell me, chérie, what have you learned about your sister?”

  “Maria?”

  “Do you have another?”

  “Did you ever talk to Dad about a secret family?” I asked.

  “Nina.” She gave me the Ceceri Evil Eye.

  “Maria’s fine,” I said, finding it hard to keep my sister’s secret. I was bursting to tell my mother the news—if only to see her reaction. But it wasn’t
my news to tell.

  “She is most definitely not fine.”

  “Nate’s job is good, hers is secure, Gracie is being diaper-trained. She’s fine.”

  My mother squinted at me as I loaded the tenth candle. “You’re lying to me.”

  “Me? Lie? Never.”

  She gave me the Ceceri Evil Eye again. It might be a new record. I almost caved. Quickly, I grabbed the last two candles in one trip and threw them in the back of my truck.

  “If I find out you’ve been keeping something from me...”

  “Yeah, yeah,” I said, jumping into my truck.

  She came up to my door before I could close it and took a good look at me. “Are you all right?”

  Not really, but I was very good at faking it. “I’m fine.”

  “Lies, lies, lies.” She tsked and shook her head as she backed away from the truck.

  I closed the door and said, “What do you want for Christmas?”

  She smiled. “Surprise me.”

  Damn it.

  “By the way,” she said, “I do adore the antlers on your truck.”

  I nodded to her rooftop. “Is Santa rubbing off on you?”

  “Bite your tongue.”

  Smiling, I drove off. Eager to see what was on that camera, I floored it all the way home.

  I zoomed into my driveway, skidded my way up the slippery walkway to the front door, and didn’t even take off my coat before popping the camera’s disk into my laptop. I sat on the sofa, my leg bouncing, as the file loaded.

  Anticipation coursed through me as the photos popped up on the screen.

  My anticipation quickly turned to shock.

  The vandal had first shown up at two in the morning and worked efficiently until almost three.

  I kept staring at the screen, wishing I wasn’t seeing what I was seeing.

  I knew who the vandal was.

  I still didn’t know why he’d done it—though I had a good idea.

  But what I really didn’t know was what to do with the information.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  My cell phone rang the next morning at the office as I picked through the box of day-old donuts. I grabbed a glazed and answered reluctantly when I saw it was Maria calling. I already had my fill of secrets to keep, and I was afraid one might accidentally slip out.