Curiosity kills, p.1
Curiosity Kills, page 1
part #1 of Holiday Homicide Series
Curiosity Kills
Holiday Homicide Cozies, Book 1
Gretchen Allen
Summer Prescott Books Publishing
Copyright 2019 Summer Prescott Books
All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication nor any of the information herein may be quoted from, nor reproduced, in any form, including but not limited to: printing, scanning, photocopying, or any other printed, digital, or audio formats, without prior express written consent of the copyright holder.
**This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons, living or dead, places of business, or situations past or present, is completely unintentional.
Cover Design: Cover Affairs
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Also by Gretchen Allen
Author’s Note
Contact Summer Prescott Books Publishing
Chapter One
“Happy almost Halloween!” Lindsay Kramer’s parents said in unison, both reaching out for a hug from their daughter whom they hadn’t seen in a few months.
“It’s not Halloween,” Lindsay mumbled, enclosed in a tight embrace, barely able to breathe.
“Honey, what’s the equivalent of a Scrooge, but for Halloween instead of Christmas?” Lindsay’s mother asked, a finger on her chin.
“Why, Angela, I think it’s called a Lindsay.” Ray Kramer chuckled, giving his daughter another squeeze.
“Very funny, guys. Halloween is fine. It’s just not my favorite holiday.” Lindsay smiled, appreciating her parents’ good natured-teasing.
“Dad will get your bags. You come inside with me and get something to eat,” Angela said, putting her hand on Lindsay’s back, ushering her into the house.
“Hold on just a minute. I was going to ask why I had to do all the work while you two got to go have treats, but I’m much more concerned with this cat.”
“Cat?” Angela narrowed her eyes, turning toward her husband.
“Wednesday!” Lindsay exclaimed. “She’s awake. What a little trooper. She slept the whole ride.”
“You brought your cat with you?” Ray asked.
“It’s not my cat,” Lindsay replied, reaching toward the cat carrier she’d picked up on the long drive to visit her parents in Shadow Bay.
“You brought someone else’s cat with you?” Angela pulled her hand away from her daughter, eyeing the feline.
Lindsay laughed. Sometimes her parents were just too much.
“Well, it’s not my cat, but it’s not someone else’s either. I think,” Lindsay began.
“Ya know what? Maybe you two should go ahead inside. It sounds like Lindsay needs some sugar or something to clear her head.” Ray lifted a suitcase in each hand.
“I found the cat. It’s just a kitten, really. I stopped at a rest area to grab coffee and a snack when I heard a few little mews coming from the edge of the woods. I went over to check it out and found Wednesday. She looked so lonely and sad. It had just started to rain, and it was pretty chilly out, so I took her with me.”
“You named her? Are you sure that was a good idea? What if it was someone’s pet?” Angela asked, a look of concern on her face. “Or what if you took it away from its mom?”
“Well, she’s not a tiny baby or anything. I wouldn’t call her a cat either, unless she was the runt of the litter, because she is pretty small. I did consider that she might be someone’s pet, even if it was odd that I found her in the woods off the highway at a rest stop. Kind of a strange place to lose your cat, but still possible. So, I looked around the area to see if there was anyone looking for a cat, and I even went a little way into the woods to see if I saw other kittens or a mama cat or anything, but all I found was a wet cardboard box with a raggedy old towel inside. I think someone left her there on purpose.” Lindsay pulled Wednesday from her carrier, hugging her close and kissing her on the top of her furry little head. “I’ll be looking for a vet as soon as I can. I want to make sure that she’s healthy.”
Ray and Angela exchanged a look.
“What?” Lindsay asked. “Isn’t she adorable? Her blue eyes just sucked me right in. I already love her.”
“It’s so sad what some people do to black cats on Halloween. The poor little creatures deserve all the love you are surely going to give Wednesday,” Angela said, stroking the kitten’s back. “I just was thinking of the irony, is all.”
“Same here.” Ray nodded, finally getting the bags inside. “Our little Halloween hater found herself a black cat, and named it Wednesday of all things.”
“Hmmpfh,” Lindsay muttered. “Who cares what color she is? I couldn’t leave her alone. How about we get some of that food you mentioned? I’m sure Wednesday would love to eat a little, too. I bought some food for her when I picked up the carrier. If you have a little dish or something, I’ll get her all set up.”
“Yes, dear.” Angela entered the kitchen, opened a cabinet, and pulled out two small bowls.
“Thanks, Mom. I guess I could have called to let you know I was bringing a plus one to your party,” Lindsay joked, pouring some food into one of the bowls while her mother filled the other with water for the little kitten.
“It’s not that sort of party,” Angela said.
“I was kidding.” Lindsay rolled her eyes, recalling how her humor always went over her mother’s head.
Angela preheated the oven, opened the refrigerator, and began removing dish after dish of food. Apparently, she thought her daughter was starving, or she was planning on having several guests over for dinner.
“Lasagna, chicken and dumplings, roast pork, or baked…” Angela began.
“Mom. Whatever you heat up will be fine,” Lindsay interrupted, shaking her head. Her mother could feed an army at any given time. Thankfully, she was an excellent host and entertained often.
“Lasagna, it is, then. Your father will enjoy that. He’s had nothing on his mind but the party, and I’m sure his favorite meal will be a nice surprise tonight.”
Angela put the other dishes back into the refrigerator and uncovered the lasagna she’d pre-made. She took a spray bottle from the cabinet and sprayed the underside of the aluminum foil with a little water and covered it back up. It was a little trick she’d come up with to help add a bit of moisture to the dish as to not dry the lasagna out as it was reheating. People thought it was strange, but for Angela, it always worked.
“At least you are both officially retired now, so you aren’t trying to work full-time jobs and still do the party. I know how much work that had to be,” Lindsay said, checking on Wednesday who was just finishing up her meal.
“Retirement feels amazing, party or no party. You know how we love doing them, though. I’m so glad you’re finally here to experience one. It’s been so long since you’ve taken part.” Angela opened the oven and placed the lasagna inside the moment it beeped to let her know it was preheated. It was as though she’d timed it perfectly.
“You two have been hosting Halloween parties for as long as I can remember. It’s pretty clear by now how much you love them.”
“The ones when you were younger, back in Heritage, were very child-friendly. Nowadays they are adults-only, except for a couple of hours in the afternoon. School gets out early here on Halloween, so we take the kids through a few of the less scary rooms so they can take part, too. We give out our candy then as well. All the kids know, even if they don’t want to walk through our haunted house and maze, that they are to come here between noon and five for their candy. They can do the rest of their trick-or-treating after that.”
“If you still give out full-size candy bars, I’m sure they don’t mind making you their first stop.” Lindsay laughed, fondly remembering how much all of her friends loved coming over for Halloween when she was a kid. Even though it wasn’t her favorite holiday, and she ended up scared of her own house when it was set up like a haunted house, Lindsay knew how her parents felt. So, she’d wrangled her fear, and let them act like excited children every time Halloween came around.
“We still give them out.” Angela nodded. “We are really looking forward to this year. We told the kids they could bring along one roll of toilet paper each and decorate the trees going up the driveway.”
“Only you would consider toilet paper a decoration.” Lindsay chuckled, getting up to pour herself a drink.
“We have a quarter-mile-long driveway. We do enough decorating in the house and yard, so a little toilet paper goes a long way. Not only does it make kids happy, but it adds a little flair to our Halloween theme,” Angela explained, a twinkle in her eye. “Sit. What do you want to drink?”
“Lemonade, please,” Lindsay answered, knowing that her mother had some made for her already. Raspberry lemonade was her favorite.
Angela poured the glass, setting it in front of her daughter. “Here you are.”
Lindsay thanked her mom.
“I guess since you don’t have any neighbors nearby, and you have the space, it is kind of a cute idea.”
“Even if we did have neighbors, they’d be less worried ab
“Break-ins?!”
Angela nodded, bringing down a few dishes from the cabinet.
“Houses, cars… you name it. Whoever is doing it really doesn’t seem to care.”
“I assume you’ve started locking your doors, then,” Lindsay commented, hopeful.
“When we remember,” Angela admitted. “We just live so far out, and we do so much for the community.”
“You think a robber cares how much you do for the community?” Lindsay’s voice raised. She was worried about her parents. “Not to mention, living far out might mean you are an easier target. There is no one else around.”
Angela paused, looking at her daughter. “I suppose you’re right. Now that you are here, you can help us remember to keep things locked up.”
Lindsay wished her parents weren’t so trusting. It was bad enough they allowed hundreds of strangers in their home on Halloween, but they never locked their doors, windows, or even their vehicles. She wasn’t sure they even locked them when they were out of town. Unfortunately, life wasn’t what it used to be. They needed to be much more cautious, and if Lindsay only did one thing while she was visiting, it would be making sure they knew that.
Chapter Two
With her eyes barely open, Lindsay padded down the carpeted stairs to the kitchen. She’d awakened to the smell of coffee and bacon, two of her favorite things.
“Hope you’re hungry!” Angela exclaimed. “We’ve got a heck of a feast.”
“I’m still full from dinner last night, but I think I can manage,” Lindsay said, looking at Wednesday’s empty dishes.
“She’s already eaten, and now she’s out for a walk,” Angela explained.
“Out for a walk?! You can’t just let her out!” Lindsay perked up, suddenly wide awake.
“She’s with your father.”
Lindsay settled down a bit, still skeptical but finding it hard to focus on anything other than the caffeine that she was waiting to consume.
“This is a feast. Holy cow, Mom. Are you having company?” Lindsay asked, taking in all of the food her mother had prepared.
“Just you.” Angela grinned before turning around to flip the last pancake on the griddle.
“Any plans for today besides eating?” Lindsay asked, serving herself some scrambled eggs and the crispiest slices of bacon she could find.
“Actually, we were hoping you wouldn’t mind helping us out a bit with the decorations.”
“Of course not,” Lindsay said between bites. “That’s what I’m here for. What do you need?”
Just as Angela was about to sit down across from her daughter at the table to join her for breakfast, Ray walked into the house.
“Hey, hon,” Angela greeted. “We’ve got lots to eat.”
Lindsay looked at her father, wondering where Wednesday was. She figured he’d carried the cat outside or something, which was odd enough on its own. It turned out, something even more unusual was the case.
“She’s right here,” he replied, looking at the floor.
Lindsay stood, peering over her mother’s shoulder. Wednesday was packaged in a little orange harness, which was, of course, attached to a leash.
“You walked my cat on a leash?” Lindsay asked, gawking at the sight.
“How else was she supposed to get around?” Ray asked, looking at his daughter as though she had two heads.
“Of course. What was I thinking?” Lindsay slowly sat back down, not taking her eyes off of Wednesday, who, strangely enough, looked very satisfied with herself.
She looked toward her mother, who had a goofy smile on her face.
“Your father went out early this morning to the feed store to see if he could find a harness and leash. How wonderful is it that your Halloween loving parents have a little black kitty to spoil?” Angela mused, adding three pancakes to Lindsay’s plate.
Lindsay looked at the red and yellow rooster clock hanging on the kitchen wall then at the pancakes.
“It’s barely seven a.m.” She took her fork and put back two of the pancakes.
“I like to get an early start.” Ray shrugged, unhooking Wednesday, who scampered over to the table and weaved her little body between Lindsay’s legs, finally settling in on top of her furry slippers.
Angela put the pancakes back.
“Mom! I couldn’t possibly.”
“You can put one back,” Angela gave in, getting up to pour herself more coffee.
Lindsay stabbed her fork into the pancake, accidentally picking up two.
“I said ONE!” Angela said, her back to the table.
Lindsay slumped and resigned to leaving all three of the original pancakes on her plate. She had no idea how her mother was able to know what was going on without looking. It was like she had eyes in the back of her head. It had always been that way, and Lindsay wasn’t sure if it was just a mom thing, or if there were some weird superpowers in her family that she was unaware of.
“Yes, mother.” Lindsay poured the warmed, real Vermont Maple syrup over her pancakes and dug in.
“Did you ask her?” Ray sat down next to his wife.
“Not yet. I thought I’d let her get some food in her belly, first,” Angela replied.
“I’m literally right here.” Lindsay looked up from her plate and took a few sips of her coffee, not even caring if it burnt her mouth. It was already shaping up to be a long day. She’d need all the coffee she could get.
Ray sipped his orange juice, nearly spitting it out. “She has a lovely sense of humor, doesn’t she?” he said, a grin coming over his face.
“So, ask me what?” Lindsay ignored her father’s attempt at being funny.
“We had a problem with the fog machine in the morgue, and I don’t think it can be fixed. I intended on getting a huge chunk of the decorations taken care of today and was hoping you wouldn’t mind running out and picking up a new one,” Ray explained.
“I have so many questions.” Lindsay raised a brow. “First, the morgue?”
“One of our rooms is set up as morgue this year. We have old filing cabinets that we use as cold storage, like for the bodies at a real morgue,” Angela answered while Ray chomped on a strip of bacon.
“Okay.” Lindsay thought that seemed a little morbid, but it wasn’t her party to throw. “Why does a morgue need a fog machine?”
“Since we can’t actually adjust the temperature of the room, we will use the fog machine to make it appear colder. We have some portable air conditioners going as well, but the fog just helps bring it all together.”
“I see,” Lindsay replied, looking down and realizing Wednesday hadn’t moved an inch.
“Any more questions, dear daughter?” Ray asked.
Lindsay nodded, sipping her coffee. “Where exactly does one purchase a fog machine?”
“The hardware store should have one. Dyson Hardware on Main Street,” Ray said. “I’ll jot the address down for you, but it should be pretty easy to find.”
“I’ll go,” Lindsay agreed. “I’ll finish eating, shower, and head out. Sound good?”
“Hmmm.” Angela frowned. “Would you mind showering when you get back?”
“Look at me. My hair is frizzier than I don’t even know what, I look like Cousin Itt’s sister for crying out loud.”
“You smell fine. Just brush your hair and go,” Angela directed. “I’m going to need to get all these dishes done, and you can’t be taking all my hot water.”
“First of all, you don’t brush curly hair, and second of all, it’s really not my fault you have so many dishes to wash.” Lindsay took the last bite of her pancake away from her mouth and put it back on her plate as if to show her mother she didn’t have to follow her directions. She was going to leave at least a little pancake on principle.
