Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

“ O h, I’m so sorry,” I say, patting the man dressed as Santa down with the wad of napkins in my hand, right here at the Sugar Plum Tree Lot. “That was my dog who caused all the ruckus.”

Fish mewls, You should ditch the detective and the mutt or you’ll be apologizing for that bacon-loving oaf for the rest of his life.

She’s probably not wrong, but I’m a bit addicted to the detective. I can’t help it.

Jasper is like fine wine, gourmet chocolate, and a good book all rolled into one—I couldn’t give him up if I tried.

Both Sherlock and Jingle have trotted off to the cookie booth to gobble up a spill—this time of the cookie variety.

“Not a problem.” Chris sheds a good-natured laugh as he takes the napkins from me and dabs at his chest. “This suit is a rental anyway.”

“Well, that’s good,” I tell him. “I’m Bizzy Baker Wilder. I don’t believe we’ve formally met, but you were at the inn last night. I was there when you came up on the scene with Jasper.”

He lifts his head my way. “That you were.” Now, where is this going to lead? “Small world.”

“Small town,” I add. “I’m sorry for your loss. I know that must have been hard to witness.”

“You’re telling me.” He chucks the napkins into a bin behind him. “And to think someone tried to set me up like that.”

“You think someone tried to set you up?” I ask, surprised.

“Oh, yeah. Someone intentionally went into that box of mine, fishing for that switchblade. I know a setup when I see it.”

“Well, I hope that’s not the case,” I say.

It is, Fish counters.

“Chris, mind if I ask what you know about Virginia Brighton?”

A soft chuckle strums from him. “I know plenty. Virginia is my ex. Not wife, we stopped shy of the altar.” Thank goodness for small matrimonial mercies.

“Oh wow, I’m sorry to hear that.”

“I’m not.” He gives a wistful tick of the head. “Let’s just say we didn’t exactly have an amicable parting.”

“Oh? Can I ask why that was?”

He winces out at the crowd. “Actually, I’d rather not rehash it at the moment. I’m supposed to be making people smile tonight. And I won’t make anyone do that if I can’t smile myself.” In fact, I’d be downright boiling mad.

Foiled again, Fish yowls.

Foiled again, indeed.

And boiling mad?

“I can certainly understand,” I say. “Chris, do you know who could have had a motive to kill Nick like that?”

He nods as he pins his gaze to mine. “I thought about it last night, and I think I know exactly who did that to him.” He glances over his shoulder. “Let me run to the dressing room for a moment.” He nods to a tent marked private just past the pop-up restrooms. “I’m going to throw a dry shirt on underneath this before I catch my death, and then I’ll tell you everything I know.”

“Perfect,” I say with a little too much enthusiasm.

He takes off and I practically purr into Fish’s ear.

“Did you hear that?” I say, spinning around as I head under a tent laden with trees. “He’s going to tell us everything he knows.”

A shadow darkens my path.

“Who’s going to tell you everything they know?” a deep voice booms and I’m half-afraid to look because I happen to recognize that deep voice.

I wince as I look up at my handsome husband.

“Santa?” I say with a laugh trapped in my throat.

Technically, it’s the truth.

“Bizzy.” His brows flex. “Please tell me you’re not investigating this case. Whoever killed Nick Bell is a very violent individual. And if they think you’re onto them, you, too, could meet a violent end. And that wouldn’t be good for either of you.” He places a warm hand over my belly for emphasis.

Fish sighs. I hate it when he makes a good point.

“I’m not investigating,” I tell him. “That’s your job. I was simply going to ask the man a few questions.” I bite down on a smile. “I suppose you were here to do the same thing.”

“No, actually. I’m here to surprise my wife with a Christmas tree.” He sheds a short-lived smile. “Every time I ask her to come to the lot, she’s been too bogged down at work to pull it off.”

My mouth rounds out with surprise. “Jasper! Aww , I love that.” I lift a brow his way. “But seeing that your wife is too busy for you, how about you swing by my place and we make a hot date out of decorating it? I won’t tell your wife if you don’t tell my husband,” I tease.

“That’s one hot date I wouldn’t miss,” he says, giving me a quick peck on the lips. And I might be getting the better end of the deal.

Here we go, Fish groans. The man is forever fishing for an excuse to get you alone—pardon the pun with my name. And believe me, it’s a shame I had to drag my good name into that one, but then again, I’m along for the ride regardless.

I laugh as I give my sweet cat’s paw a little tug.

“Let’s pick out our tree,” I say as we hunt and peck for just the right tree to make our living room feel like Christmas.

We pick out a gem, Jasper pays for it, and he even straps it to the roof of my car.

“I’ll get it right into the cottage once we get back to the inn,” he says. “How about dinner first?”

“You are smooth , Detective—but you already know that, don’t you?”

That empty throne behind him catches my eye.

“I almost forgot I’m supposed to meet with Chris,” I say, taking off in the direction we last met.

“Chris Winter?” Jasper says, keeping up with me. “What for?” I already know, but I may as well have you admit it. He nods my way with the thought.

Funny how he didn’t dare say those words out loud.

“He’s about to tell me who the killer is,” I say as we enter the area where we last spoke, but there’s no sign of him. “That’s odd,” I say. “Maybe he’s still in his dressing room?” I lead the way over. “ Chris? ” I call out. “Chris, are you decent? It’s me, Bizzy. We were going to talk, remember?” I shout into the void, but no one answers. “I guess he’s not—” I stop short once I spot a black boot poking out from underneath the entry.

I pull back the flap to the tent and both Jasper and I groan.

Lying on the ground with a knife sticking out of his back is a man in a jolly red suit.

It looks as if Chris Winter caught his death after all.