Murder Beneath the Mistletoe Read online

  She frowned for a moment. “How did you find out he was blackmailing someone?”

  Now it was George’s turn to pause. “I, er, might have remotely accessed his office email account. As company director, I can do that…”

  Holly was torn between horror and respect. With the police investigating, hacking into a colleague’s account was asking for trouble, but on the other hand - they had a lead.

  “Did you see who he was blackmailing?” she asked, eager to know more.

  George sighed. “That’s the problem. I think he was blackmailing several people, and their names are masked. I don’t believe he was using his office account to send the emails, he just sent himself a file called ‘graphic designs for Gorgon’. I was suspicious enough to open it. We don’t have any clients with that company name. Lo and behold, it was a file containing screenshots of emails. I’m no expert, but it looks real, and if it is, I’m sure it will be financially traceable,” he said, but Holly wasn’t so sure. Professional blackmailers probably didn’t leave clues. She suspected that Timothy had assumed the file with its misnomer was safe. It was likely to be the only personal record of his crimes.

  “We should tell the police,” she said, not without a grudge in her voice.

  George made a similarly unimpressed noise. “I suppose so. I’ll do it in a bit. Sorry if I woke you up. I just had to tell you.”

  Holly smiled a little. “I was awake anyway. I couldn’t stop thinking about it all.”

  “Well, maybe you’ll be able to rest now. Or maybe not,” George added with a light chuckle that sounded like the normal George she liked so much. “I’d better be going. Good luck with the faux Father Christmas case tomorrow!” He hung up and Holly was left staring at the dark wall opposite her bed.

  She had completely forgotten about the Santa situation!

  I hope this will do it, she thought, looking down at the pieces she’d put together on her desk and wondering if it would count as infallible evidence. In front of her was the old harness bell and the certificate George had supplied. Then there was her own contribution - a theoretical guide to quantum physics that explained how Father Christmas could plausibly deliver all of the presents in one night (rather dry, but if the girl wanted evidence…). Finally, there was her personal favourite - news reports of various items that Santa had lost around the world, including his boots and hat. There was even a report of a real elf being caught. Holly herself was a little unsure on that one, as it seemed spookily real, but if it was enough to give her doubts about the unknown, she hoped it would thoroughly convince Sally.

  She had no more time to wonder because at precisely ten o’clock in the morning, Sally and Scott walked into the office, and Holly gave her presentation. There was a pregnant pause at the end. Both adults held their breath, before Sally clapped her small hands and danced with delight.

  “I knew it! I knew it! I can’t wait to show this evidence to everyone,” she said, carefully gathering up the files and taking special care over the old reindeer harness bell. She strode back out of the office leaving a grinning Scott behind.

  “Thanks, Holly. I think you just made our Christmas,” he said and passed over a little wrapped box. “The Mrs cooked this up for you. We both knew you’d pull it off.” He wished her a Merry Christmas before walking back out into the cold.

  Holly unwrapped the box to find a miniature iced fruitcake with Father Christmas made from icing sat on the top. She wasted no time in bisecting Father Christmas and the cake. It was a good thing Sally wasn’t around to see icing Santa’s sticky end.

  Death by Chocolate

  Holly woke up the next morning to a thick coating of frost and that serene feeling you have when it is Christmas Day, and there is nothing at all to worry about. For just one day, she was going to shunt all thoughts of the case from her mind and just enjoy herself. She was due around her parents for lunch, but until then, she had some time to kill. A morning jog followed by a hot chocolate would be just the ticket.

  She reached the front door and discovered that a small wrapped box was sitting on her doormat. Holly opened the door to look around and discovered that a further package had been left on the step. Feeling mystified, she brought the packages indoors and put them on the kitchen table, wondering if she dared open them. The package on the doorstep had a label that let her know it was from George, but while it looked just like his writing had on the invitation to the Christmas party, she knew it may still be a forgery. The other present - a small box - had no label and was wrapped in purple paper and tied with a purple bow. Any other time, it might have been exciting to receive a mystery present, but Holly was feeling cautious after the suspected cyanide poisoning.

  Feeling very glad that no one could see her, she pulled on a pair of plastic gloves and the balaclava she wore when it was really cold, hoping that her face would be protected. She gingerly unwrapped the present from George, figuring that it would be the safer option.

  A beautiful light blue and white scarf, hat, and glove set, was what she found inside. They were all lined with fluffy fleece and she sensed it was an expensive present to have bought. A note fell from the scarf when she picked it up.

  * * *

  Meant to give this to you yesterday when I dropped you off. Have a Merry Christmas.

  Love,

  George

  P.S. Lizzie asked if we wanted to go round her house for a Boxing Day dinner? I think Christian, Lauren, Damien, and a few other couples are going. Give me a ring if you fancy it!

  * * *

  Holly felt her heart leap in her chest when she read the note. It looked like George might not have given up on her after all if he wanted her to attend a couples’ dinner with him. She was tempted to pick up the phone there and then, but decided to text instead - as it was Christmas and she had no wish to intrude on his day.

  That just left the other box.

  Keeping her gloves and balaclava on, she gingerly pulled on the ribbon and then unfolded the purple paper wrapping. Inside was a dark blue jewellery box. She flipped off the lid and stepped back in case there was some sort of spray mechanism. Nothing jumped out and bit her, so she moved closer and looked in the box at the stunning amethyst and silver necklace that lay there. She gasped and resisted the temptation to touch it - just in case.

  A note was pinned to the lid of the box.

  * * *

  From your secret admirer. I can’t stop thinking about you! Merry Christmas. xXx

  * * *

  Holly frowned and wondered again if this was some sort of trap. If she took the gift at face value, it was probably from a man who had some cash to splash. She couldn’t think of anyone (except for George and Rob) she knew who would A - have the money, and B - secretly admire her. George had written his name on his present, and Rob was the kind of guy who came out and said exactly how he was feeling. None of this secret stuff. That was actually why she was dreading their ‘talk’ whenever it was to happen…

  She lightly touched the necklace and nothing sprang out or burnt through her gloves. It seemed to be safe, but who had it come from? She had a feeling that she would find out soon. No one sent an expensive present like this one and then didn’t follow it up.

  She considered whether or not to wear it, knowing it would act as a symbol of acceptance to whoever had sent it. She really shouldn’t, but it was pretty - and purple and silver were her colours…

  She sighed and shut the box. She’d decide later. She definitely wasn’t going to be wearing it to the Boxing Day dinner with George. She smiled when her phone made a sound and she saw that George had sent back a smiley face and a time he’d pick her up.

  Holly sat down at her kitchen table, forgoing the jog in favour of hot chocolate. After all, it was Christmas. Although she’d promised herself otherwise, she started thinking about the case. Holly wondered about the people Timothy had been blackmailing. Which one of them had finally snapped?

  The next morning, Holly dressed in a dark blue dress
with a print of white flowers and wrapped herself up in a faux fur gilet. Then, she added a coat and the scarf and gloves George had bought her. She would wear the hat to a less social occasion, as it would mess up her hair if she put it on now - and her hair didn’t need much encouragement to look like a mess.

  “Happy Boxing Day! You liked the present?” George asked, walking up her narrow path and nearly slipping on the ice. She suppressed a giggle.

  “Yes, they’re so warm! I’m just sorry I didn't think to get you anything. Christmas sort of jumped up and bit me this year,” she explained, and then felt even more guilty when she remembered that it must have been the same - if not worse - for George.

  “Your present is coming with me to this awful couples’ dinner that I’d have to go to alone otherwise,” he said and pulled a face.

  Holly felt deflated again but tried to not let it show. Did George really only see her as a friend? He turned to look when a dog barked somewhere down the street, and Holly drank in his white blonde hair, dark eyebrows, and stunning jawline. If only he felt the same way that she did.

  “I’m happy to help. Let’s hope that everyone lives to see dessert,” she joked, but it fell flat. They both knew there was a chance that they’d be dining with a killer. All they could hope was that Timothy’s death was to do with his blackmail business, and they didn’t have another psychopath on their hands.

  After a brief drive, they pulled up outside Lizzie’s house. It was an idyllic property that must have once been a farmhouse. Set in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by a heathland, the views over the still-frosted fields were stunning. Judging by the number of cars grouped around the house, they weren’t the first to arrive.

  The door sprung open and Lizzie practically dragged them inside. “Come in, come in! Did you have a good Christmas? Come and see the duck that Christian has cooked for us! Doesn’t it all look lovely?” she said, never pausing to hear an answer.

  Holly and George entered the large living room with a crackling fire in the hearth and several tartan upholstered arm chairs. Three men were standing by the drinks cabinet. Holly looked down the corridor to find Christian walking towards them all. He winked at her.

  Lizzie practically jumped on Christian the moment he entered the room and smothered his face with kisses. Everyone in the room looked away. Holly noticed Lauren and Lana exchange a grossed-out look.

  “Thank you so much for helping me to cook the dinner,” Lizzie said to Christian. “You’re my angel.”

  Holly saw Lana mime sticking her fingers down her throat, her face hidden from Lizzie’s view by the armchair.

  “What are we eating? I’m super hungry,” a new woman said entering the room. The man with the posh voice who’d asked about Holly’s piano playing moved next to her. She vaguely remembered the woman being called Vanessa. She’d learned a lot of names two nights ago when they’d been waiting to get interviewed. There’d been nothing to do but chat.

  “Yes, let’s all sit down!” Lizzie said, ushering them into the dining room.

  Holly held back and tilted her head at George. “Is Lizzie a company director?”

  He shook his head. “No, she’s head of PR. You can probably tell,” he added dryly. “She’s dating a company director, though. Christian is my business partner. As is Damien, who is here with Vanessa,” he explained.

  Holly raised an eyebrow. “So, everyone dates each other in the office? Doesn’t that lead to trouble?”

  George shrugged but his facial expression hinted at what he really felt. “You can’t stop it from happening,” was all he said.

  Lizzie rushed back into the room and seized George’s arm, a smile ever present on her face. “Come on, George, I’ve saved the best seat for you,” she said, and it didn’t escape Holly’s notice that she didn’t refer to Holly at all. She wondered if there was some history between the two.

  “See you in there,” Christian said to her, walking past when George had been dragged away. His hand rested on her arm for a second and she felt his thumb stroke her skin, before he walked away in the direction of the kitchen, leaving Holly to wonder if she’d imagined it.

  “George… George!” she hissed when she’d managed to sit down beside him at the table. “This isn’t a swingers’ party or anything, is it?” she asked, feeling horrified by the thought.

  George gave her an odd look. “No, why would you think that?”

  Holly opened her mouth to answer and then shut it again. Perhaps she was just imagining the strange way Christian was behaving - and the tension between George and Lizzie was almost certainly ancient history. She didn’t want to know.

  “I was just kidding,” she said weakly. Fortunately, the prawn and avocado starters were served and Holly didn’t have to talk to George again for the next several minutes.

  The conversation focused on the company and what the New Year would bring for them. Holly found her attention drifting. She looked around the room at the photo frames. Quite a few photos showed pictures of a very young Lizzie and a boy, close to her age. The boy had light-brown hair and a deep tan that made him look like he might have some hispanic blood, in stark contrast to Lizzie’s pale face and red hair. She didn’t know why, but there was something about the boy’s facial expression that hinted there might be something wrong with him.

  There was a lapse in conversation and Holly thought it would be a great idea to do some bonding with Lizzie over the old photos. People loved to talk about that stuff!

  “I was just admiring your photos, Lizzie. Who’s the boy in the pictures with you?”

  A hush descended in the room. Holly looked around at all of the blank faces. “…Sorry?” she said, wondering what she’d done wrong.

  “It’s okay. That’s Jason. He’s my brother, but he died when we were teenagers. There was an accident. We were out walking close to this house. He fell into the river and drowned,” Lizzie explained. There was a long pause before she pushed herself upright, the smile only slipping from her face for a second. “Now, who wants dessert?”

  Holly pulled an apologetic face at George and tried to ignore the amused looks Christian was giving her across the table. What was his deal?

  Something creaked above them. Holly glanced up.

  George shrugged. “I guess Lizzie’s either got a ghost up there, or rats,” he said, and they shared a smile. Holly’s smile was a little wider as she felt a wave of relief that George had forgiven her for her unknowing faux pas.

  “George, I made this dessert with you in mind because I know you love chocolate. It’s my almost famous, death by chocolate pudding,” Lizzie practically oozed over George when she put the plate down on the table. Holly accidentally caught the eye of Lana and Lauren. They both looked sympathetic.

  Holly bit her tongue and ate some dessert. George would have to make his own decision.

  She just hoped he picked her.

  The Running Man

  Holly slumped onto her desk and stared at the desktop calendar. It was the 27th of December - that awkward date where you had to work between Christmas and New Year. Being the owner of her own detective agency, she could have given herself the time off, but she hadn’t wanted to. She loved her job. The only part she didn’t love was early mornings spent in the agency, waiting for the phone to ring and a case to arrive, or - like this morning - waiting for Becky to turn up, so Holly could abandon the phone and leave to solve a mystery.

  A quarter of an hour later, Becky walked into the office. This morning, she wasn’t alone.

  A little bundle of black and tan fur bounced into the office after her and immediately latched onto the leg of a desk and started chewing.

  “What is that?” Holly asked, looking at the puppy distrustfully. It looked like an odd mix between a Rottweiler, German Shepherd, and a Collie.

  “It’s a dog,” Becky said, stating the obvious. She sat down behind her desk and dumped her bag on top of the surface. Usually, she dumped it on the floor. This concerning alteration o
f behaviour did not escape Holly’s notice.

  “I can see that. What is it doing here?” she asked.

  Becky let out a sigh, like Holly’s question was totally unreasonable.

  “I thought we could have an office dog. This one seemed perfect,” she said and started to turn on her computer, doing her best to look busy.

  Holly wasn’t finished. “Did you buy a dog, without asking me, just so it could live in the office?” She bit her tongue to keep from shouting. Puppies were cute, but they were also a handful. She couldn’t believe Becky would do something so stupid and thoughtless!

  “Actually, I found him by the side of the road in a cardboard box. He looked lonely.”

  Holly immediately felt terrible. Someone had abandoned this poor puppy and now she was going to turn him away, too.

  She narrowed her eyes. “Show me the box,” she said, not wanting to have the wool pulled over her eyes. Her part-time apprentice secretary looked surprised but got up and walked to the door, the makeshift lead still in her hand. She gathered the young dog up, as he wasn’t old enough to walk any distance on the lead.

  Ten minutes later, they were standing on the small road that led in and out of Little Wemley. Holly inspected a cardboard box that definitely looked like it had been inhabited by a playful puppy.

  “Okay, but that does not mean we are keeping him.” She paused, feeling unfair again. “You’ll take him home at the end of the day, right?”

  The other girl’s pained expression gave away the truth.

  “Oh… you want me to take him,” Holly said, looking at the bundle of fluff, who was eagerly jumping up and down in front of her.

  She rubbed a hand through her hair, trying not to think about just what she would be committing to, and the sheer size this dog might turn out to be - given her initial estimate of its breeding.