Gooseberry Christmas Read online

  “So, what did you find out?” I asked once the dogs and I arrived at the cottage she shared with her best friend, Josie Wellington.

  “Not a lot,” she admitted. “I traced the text back to an email address rather than a phone number, so it appears the text originated from a texting program rather than an actual cell phone. I thought I might be able to backtrack and find the actual computer the text was sent from, but it appears whoever sent the message knew what they were doing since the message bounced around a bit before landing. I’m still working on it and may be able to narrow things down a bit more, but it looks like the text originated in Southern California.”

  “California?” I frowned. “I don’t know anyone who lives in California.”

  “Who exactly have you told about your search into your past and the two little girls in the photo?”

  “You and the rest of the peninsula gang, of course. Hope and Parker. Jackson knows, as do Adam and Archie.” I paused and thought about it. “I told my best friend, Keni. She lives in New York. I spoke to my dad’s best friend, Gil. He lives in Denver now.” I took a breath. “I also mentioned it to some friends I met in Holiday Bay, Maine before I headed west. And I know Adam mentioned the mystery of the women with the children to several people from town, as well as a few ex-employees and a handful of family members living in England.”

  “So basically, the text could have come from almost anywhere.”

  I shrugged. “I guess.”

  “Why do you think the person behind the message sent it?” Jemma asked.

  I paused to consider her question. “I’m not really sure. On the one hand, the message: ‘Ava is dead. It is best to let her stay that way.,’ could be a threat. The person behind the text could be the bad guy who is trying to threaten me that if I don’t leave the past in the past, I should expect some sort of undesirable outcome. But, on the other hand, the text could be a warning from an ally rather than a threat from one who would do me harm. Someone who is looking out for me might have sent the text. Someone who knows there are those who would harm me, or at least there are those who would harm Ava if they knew she was alive.”

  “Yeah, I read it both ways as well. It’ll be harder to try to guess who sent it if we don’t know whether it was meant as a threat or a warning.” Jemma glanced at her computer screen. “Have you tried responding?”

  “Responding?”

  She nodded. “Maybe if we send a reply to the message, we can get additional information. Perhaps the person on the other end will respond to our reply. That would give me another avenue to try to nail down the source of the message.”

  “Okay. What should I say?”

  Jemma tapped her fingertips on the table. “You could just ask the person who they are, but I doubt that will get you a name. You could pretend you don’t know who Ava is and ask for clarification. Or you could pretend that you know who sent the text and that you consider the message to be a joke.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “You could say something like: ‘Haha, very funny. I know it’s you. I’ll see you Saturday as planned.’ If the person behind the text really wants to be certain that you know that you have been threatened or warned, depending on their true intent, they might respond back with some additional detail to try to convince you that the text is not a joke but the real thing.”

  “Okay. I’ll respond to the text and see what happens.”

  Chapter 2

  Wednesday dawned bright and sunny, which was a welcome sight after several days of rain that I’d initially welcomed but had since grown tired of. On Saturday, I’d joined the gang for their annual pilgrimage to the tree farm. Adam had called me late Friday evening to let me know that one of his cousins had shown up unannounced, so he and Archie wouldn’t be joining us for tree cutting as he’d initially indicated they would. Wesley was one of Aunt Evelyn’s sons, and, according to Adam, he was the sort to pop in unannounced on a whim. Wesley only planned to spend four nights in Gooseberry Bay, so Adam and Archie both felt it was best not to desert him on his first day in town. We arranged for another research session Thursday rather than Tuesday, as we’d discussed. Adam had mentioned that he’d volunteered for the same shift at the Christmas tree lot on the boardwalk as I had today, so I was sure I’d see him there.

  Tegan had ended up working Saturday, and Coop indicated that he really wasn’t into the whole Christmas thing, so he offered to keep an eye on the dogs while I was away. Parker had a friend in town for the weekend and wouldn’t be joining us, so in the end, it was Booker, Jackson, Josie, Jemma, and I who’d made the two-hour trip north to cut down trees for all the cabins. Booker and Jackson both owned big trucks, so they drove while Jemma and I rode with Jackson, and Josie rode with Booker.

  It had been a much longer drive than I’d anticipated, but I had to admit I’d had a wonderful time. Josie had packed a fabulous lunch, and the five of us had feasted amongst the firs that blanketed the area leading up to the tree farm.

  On Sunday, the rain had blown in, so I’d decided to stay home, curl up by the fire, and read the thriller I’d purchased months ago but had never gotten around to reading. It was nice to be able to simply do and think about nothing in particular. I’d made tomato soup and a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner, which seemed just about perfect as I curled up in my warm and cozy cottage and watched it rain.

  On Monday, I’d braved the rain to head into town in search of lights and decorations for the tree that Coop had helped me set up after I’d returned to the peninsula Saturday. The boardwalk had undergone a huge transformation over the weekend. All the pumpkins and fall leaves had been replaced with white lights, real fir garland, and festive wreaths tied up with big red bows. It was fun to walk along the main thoroughfare, looking in all the shop windows. It was drizzling, but I’d had an umbrella, and it really hadn’t been cold or windy.

  On Tuesday, the dogs and I had taken our time and decorated the tree as well as the cottage. I’d never been one to go crazy with holiday decorations, but the festive atmosphere of the little town seemed to entice me into going just a tiny bit Christmas crazy this year.

  Between the rain and the peninsula gang’s jobs, I hadn’t seen anyone since Saturday, so I decided to bake some cookies Tuesday afternoon and delivered them to everyone when they got home from work. Predictably, Josie invited the dogs and me to dinner, which was nice after several days on my own. The roommates still hadn’t decorated their huge tree, so I volunteered to pitch in, and we got it done that evening.

  As of this morning, I still hadn’t received a reply to my return text. Jemma doubted I would. She acknowledged that whoever had sent the text seemed to know what they were doing, and it was unlikely they’d act in such a way as to allow her to track them down. I wished we’d been able to find out more, but I knew that Jemma had done everything she could. It was frustrating and a bit frightening not to know with any degree of certainty whether the person behind the text was a friend or foe. I felt like I was at a standstill in terms of my research project, but maybe that was okay. If researching Ava and the woman in the photo was an act that would bring an element of danger into my life, perhaps I needed to slow down a bit and proceed with more caution.

  The volunteer shift at the Christmas tree lot began at nine a.m., so I only had time to take the dogs for a short run before I had to head out. I decided on a walk along the beach since the forest trail would be muddy, and the beach would just be sandy, which would be easier to brush out of Kai and Kallie’s long coats. I wasn’t sure how long I’d be in town today, but the dogs had settled in at the cottage, and I suspected they’d be fine until I made it back. If the shift went too long, I’d simply make my excuses and leave.

  As I walked along the beach, I tried to forget about my stalled investigation and focus on the reality that I’d see Adam today. I had to admit that I’d been really sorry he hadn’t been able to join us on Saturday. I wondered about his visit with his cousin, who I supposed must be
a second or third cousin once removed. I really wasn’t sure how the whole cousin thing worked, but I knew that Wesley was the son of Evelyn, who was the daughter of Adam’s grandmother’s sister, Scarlett. Wesley lived in England, and Adam had mentioned when we spoke that the two didn’t really get together all that often, but they usually enjoyed each other’s company when they did have the chance to visit.

  Although it was clear and sunny today, the temperature had dropped quite a bit, so once I’d showered, I dressed in heavy jeans, a wool sweater layered over a turtleneck, thick socks, and hiking style boots, which I knew would keep my feet both dry and warm. The Christmas tree lot Hope had asked me to help at was to be set up in the parking area at the end of the boardwalk overlooking the marina. There was a large flat area, which featured an outbuilding that would be used as the Christmas tree lot’s office. I parked in the parking area and then made my way toward the small white building where I’d been told to ask for someone named Bradford. Bradford was somehow affiliated with the local chamber of commerce that sponsored the event every year, both as a way to get fresh-cut trees to the locals who lived in Gooseberry Bay and to earn much-needed revenue for the chamber’s advertising fund.

  The area, which had been selected for the Christmas trees to be displayed, had already been outfitted with a temporary fence, white lights had been strung overhead, and a temporary sales booth had been erected near the center of the lot. I entered through the front gate and was preparing to head toward the back of the lot toward the permanent building when I saw a man storm out of the small white structure. The man looked a lot like Jackson, although I had to confess I hadn’t gotten a good look at his face. I called out his name, but the man didn’t respond, so perhaps it hadn’t been Jackson after all. I’d taken a few steps toward the small white building when a tall man wearing dark blue coveralls walked up behind me.

  “Excuse me, ma’am. Do you work here?”

  “I’m supposed to volunteer, but I just got here. My name is Ainsley. Ainsley Holloway.”

  He tipped his hat but didn’t offer a name. “Listen, I have a load of Christmas trees to drop off. The gate opening at the back of the lot is tight, and I wondered if you could spot me while I back in.”

  “Sure. I’d be happy to.” I looked over my shoulder for his truck but didn’t see one.

  “When I arrived, there was a white delivery van parked in front of the gate I needed to access. I thought about locating the driver and asking them to move it, but I wanted to grab breakfast anyway, so I parked on the street and walked over to the diner, figuring the van would be gone by the time I returned.”

  “I guess that strategy does make the most sense.”

  “If you come with me, I’ll show you where to stand.”

  “Okay.” I followed the man to the doublewide gate at the back of the lot that he’d referred to. He opened it and told me where to stand. Once I was in place, he went down the street that ran along the back of the lot to get his truck, which turned out to be a huge flatbed with wood panels on the sides. It was a tight fit, but the man seemed to know what he was doing. All I needed to do was shout out, “a little to the left,” or “a little to the right,” as the man worked the truck into position. Once he managed to get the truck in the lot, he began untying the ropes that had held the trees in place for transport.

  “Do you need help?” I asked.

  “No. I’m just going to pile these trees up here. It will be up to the lot manager to outfit them with stands and put them on display.”

  “I think that’s why I’m here today.” I glanced at my watch. It was only eight fifty-eight. I guess I’d shown up early.

  “I hope you’re going to have help,” the man said as he began tossing Christmas trees off the truck and into a pile.

  “Yes. I believe others are expected. I’m a few minutes early.” I looked toward the gate. “Do you need help getting out?”

  “No. I can pull out with no problem. It was just backing through a tight space with a full load that was sort of tricky. I’ll be fine from here.”

  “Okay,” I said. “Then, I guess I’ll go check in.”

  The man nodded, so I headed toward the small white building. I knocked on the door, but no one answered, so I tried the knob, which easily gave way. I slowly pushed the door open, announcing myself as I did so. When I opened the door, I found the place empty of human inhabitants, although dozens of poinsettias, which I suspected had recently been delivered, were sitting in the corner. The front gate had been open when I arrived, the door to the office had been unlocked, and there had been a truck parked at the back of the lot, so I had to assume someone was around.

  “Hello,” I called out. There was a short hallway with two doors. I assumed one was a bathroom, and I supposed the other might be storage. “I’m here for my shift. Is anyone here?”

  When no one answered, I decided to wait. Maybe the manager had stepped out. It was nine o’clock by this point, so I assumed the guy was somewhere on the premises. He had volunteers due to arrive at any minute. I considered heading outside and looking around when a woman with long brown hair and dressed much as I was opened the door. “Is Bradford here?” she asked.

  “No. I haven’t seen him. I’m Ainsley. I’m supposed to be here at nine to help with the setup of the Christmas tree lot.”

  “Yeah, me too,” she answered. “I’m Brenda.” She looked over her shoulder. “I noticed Bradford’s truck in the parking lot, so he must be around somewhere. Did you check the bathroom?”

  “Well, no. I called out when I came in, but I didn’t knock on the door or anything.”

  Brenda walked across the room and then rapped once on the door, which I assumed she knew to be the bathroom. “Bradford, are you in there?” She only waited for a second and then opened the door and poked her head inside. “Not in here.” She crossed the hallway and opened the door on the other side. When she let out a blood-curdling scream, I knew that she’d found more than she was looking for.

  Chapter 3

  Adam showed up just as Deputy Todd arrived. He joined Brenda, me, and three other volunteers who’d shown up to work outside the building used as the office.

  “What happened?” Adam asked.

  “I showed up early,” I answered. “Brenda did too. We were looking for Bradford so we could check-in, but he didn’t seem to be around even though his truck is parked behind the small white building. Brenda opened the door to the storage room and found the guy with a knife in his chest.”

  “Do you have any idea who might have killed the man?” Adam asked.

  The image of someone who looked an awful lot like Jackson fleeing the scene crossed my mind. “No. I have no idea who might have done such a thing.” I glanced at the building. “I wonder how long he’s been dead.”

  Adam frowned. “I guess Deputy Todd will know once the coroner arrives. He’s not one to share, but I think I can get some information out of him.”

  “Had to be Durango,” one of the three men who were waiting with us said. The man who was wearing a red plaid shirt hadn’t offered his name.

  “Why do you think Durango killed Bradford?” a man with a thick black beard asked.

  “Saw the two of them going at it last night when I was over at Walter’s Place having a beer. Guess you heard that Bradford had been spending time with Durango’s old lady.”

  “Colton’s right,” a man wearing a cowboy hat said, referring to the man in the red plaid shirt. “Bradford had been spending time with Jessie since the divorce, and Durango was very outspoken when it came to his opinion about the arrangement. If Durango stuck a knife in the man’s gut, he might have had a reason for doing so.”

  “Jessie is no longer married to Durango,” Brenda pointed out. “She has the right to spend time with anyone she feels like spending time with.”

  Adam must have noticed my confusion since he leaned over and whispered into my ear. “Colton is the man in the red plaid shirt. Like Bradford, he’s retired and
, like Bradford, he spends more time than he ought to as of late in the local bar. Jessie is Durango’s ex-wife, who divorced him this past winter after she found out he was cheating on her with one of her best friends. The unenlightened cowboy, who seems to think that Jessie spending time with Bradford is reason to kill him, is called Tuck, although that’s a nickname. Like Bradford and Colton, he also spends more time than he ought to down at Walter’s Place.”

  “And the man with the black beard?” I asked.

  “That’s Trace. He actually owns the local lumberyard and spends most of his time working rather than drinking.”

  “I see.” I glanced at the dirt lot behind us when a car pulled up. “It looks like Parker is here.”

  Adam raised a hand in greeting. “I figured it wouldn’t be long until she showed up.”

  I looked around at the group assembled. Besides Adam and me, there were four others: Brenda, Colton, Tuck, and Trace. Deputy Todd was still inside.

  “So, what’s going on?” Parker asked after she joined us.

  “Bradford is dead,” I answered. “Murdered.”

  “Murdered?” she asked, raising her brows.

  “I figured you knew,” I said. “I thought that was why you were here.”

  “I was just driving by and saw Deputy Todd’s car out in the parking lot and you all standing around, so I decided to stop and see if there was a story to be had. Do you know who killed him?”

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t know. Deputy Todd told us all to wait here, but he hasn’t come out since he first arrived. I guess he’ll eventually come out and fill us in.”

  Parker turned around. She looked toward a black car that had pulled into the lot, followed by an ambulance. “It looks like the coroner is here. I guess we might hear something once he gets the chance to look at things.”