Mall Santa Murder: A Cozy Christmas Mystery (Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Book 1) (8 page)

“That’s fine,” Gemma said. “Let’s just eat here in the food court.”

“Not much to choose from, here,” he said.

“I don’t mind,” Gemma said, giving him an encouraging smile.

The food court, if that's what you wanted to call it, was about midway down the east wing and at this time day was pretty much empty. There was a Chinese food place, Hot Wok, a hot dog and bagel shop called Burger Bonanza, a pizza place called Buy the Slice and a Mexican food restaurant with no name. Gemma and Ross stood there for a moment looking around, each waiting for the other to decide.

“Have you eaten here before?” Ross whispered, as if someone might hear him.

“Nope,” Gemma said, shaking her head.

The people at the Hot Wok tried to force samples on them as they passed and then just looked crestfallen when they refused. The pizzas at Buy the Slice looked like they had been there under the hot lamps since before Thanksgiving.

“How about Mexican?” Ross suggested, walking in that direction.

Almost immediately, the gentleman who had been holding a clipboard filled with papers behind the counter at Buy the Slice dashed across the food court toward them. He ducked under the little gate and grabbed a sombrero, ready to serve them.

Ross and Gemma exchanged glances and laughed.

In the end they settled on Chinese and took their food to one of the tables in the center. At least they were clean, Gemma thought as she sat down across from Ross.

“I promise that as soon as all this is over, I’ll take you some place nicer than this,” he said, stirring his sesame chicken.

“I’d like that,” Gemma told him.

They were quiet for a while and then Gemma asked the question that had been on her mind since he’d shown up at the kiosk looking for her. “So you attended the autopsy this morning?”

Ross nodded, and wiped a piece of stray broccoli off of her lip with a brown paper napkin. She shivered at his touch. “Nothing really earth shattering there. He was strangled from behind with the wire garland found around his neck. No other trauma, no self-defense wounds, nothing like that.”

“Which means he likely knew his attacker,” Gemma put in.

Ross looked a little surprised and then nodded. “His blood alcohol level was through the roof, which we kind of expected.”

“I watch a lot of CSI,” Gemma said and then asked. “Time of death?”

“Sometime between seven and nine that morning. He hadn’t been dead long when you found him,” he told her.

“If I’d come in sooner...”

“If you’d come in sooner you might have been the one on that autopsy table this morning,” he said quickly.

Gemma shivered. “It wasn’t random.”

“No, but you might have been in the way. You might have seen someone or something and murders don’t leave witnesses,” Ross reminded her. “I’ve seen it on TV.”

Gemma shivered again. Her mother would have said a snake crawled over her grave. She had a feeling it was something else.

“I’ve reviewed everything from the cameras here at the mall,” he told her.

“And?”

He shrugged broad shoulders accentuated by his clothing. “It’s not a very good system. The owner told us his insurance company said he had to have one so he got the cheapest version he could.”

“I’m not surprised. Sort of like his security guards,” Gemma said, thinking back on Grady Jackson’s behavior after she found the body. He definitely wasn’t a take charge kind of guy. “Did you see anything interesting?”

“As usual, not much to tell. Most of the cameras are trained on the entrances and exits, the bathrooms, places like that.”

“Did you see Santa stealing?” Gemma wanted to know.

Ross shook his head. “Saw him entering and leaving GNC a good number of times.”

Gemma nodded.

“But he spent just as much time at the lingerie shop, Mona Joys, and Bath and Body Works.”

“Where the ladies shopped,” Gemma said.

Ross nodded and then his attention seemed to be drawn to something behind her.

“Detective.” It was Grady Jackson.

“Mr. Jackson,” Ross said, standing and extending his hand.

The two men shook and then Grady said, “I have some information you might be interested in. If you’ll stop by my office later...”

“Absolutely,” Ross said. He and Gemma watched the head of security walk away.

“Is he ex-military?” Gemma asked. “He always looks so...so,” she struggled to find the right word, then frowned. “Shiny.”

Ross laughed. “Yeah he is. He’s tried two or three times to get into the state police academy but can’t pass the entrance exam.”

Gemma nodded and then out of the corner of her eye she saw Ralph the Elf ordering his lunch at the Mexican restaurant. He nodded at the two of them when he saw them together but moved to a table far away. There he pulled out his cell phone and made several calls while eating.

“He’s always in costume,” Gemma muttered.

“Yeah, weird, huh? He said that was one of the reasons he didn’t like Sam. He sometimes didn’t wear his hat. He wasn’t a true Santa.”

“And he was pretty much always drunk,” Gemma reminded him.

“Yeah, there’s that.”

“Which again begs the question, how did he get away with stealing anything?”

Before Ross could answer Bill Chambers sauntered by their table, looked at the different food choices and seemed to have trouble deciding. He turned toward them at one point, smiled and waved and then continued on out of the food court without buying anything.

Seeing him reminded Gemma of her conversation with Edna that morning. “I heard something this morning that might be of interest to you,” she said.

His cell vibrated loudly on the table between them and he gave her an apologetic look when he decided to answer it.

“Chief,” he whispered to her and then rolled his eyes. “Yes, sir. Yes, sir, I’m on it.”

“Trouble?” Gemma asked when he ended the call.

“Yeah, afraid so. I’m gonna have to run,” he said, gathering up their empty paper plates, cups and napkins.

“Well, thank you for lunch,” Emma said as they walked back to her kiosk.

“You’re welcome. I was really glad to have you along the other day. It made that interview easier,” he confessed. “And I’d forgotten all about Santa’s ‘plan’. I was glad you brought that up.”

Gemma smiled. “I want to do something for that family by Christmas. Not toys. God knows they don’t need toys, but something.”

“I know they’d appreciate it,” he said to her. “And I meant what I said. As soon as all of this is over, I want to take you to someplace nice.”

“I’d like that,” Gemma said, smiling up at him. “I really would.”

“Good. Now let me see what Grady Jackson has for me and then I need to get back to detecting,” he said. “Santa isn’t my only case, you know.”

“Ah, but solving Santa’s murder might be your biggest case ever,” Gemma teased.

“We’ll see,” he said, and brushed her cheek with his fingertips. The tender gesture surprised her.

Gemma stood there watching him walk away, thinking that she hadn’t felt this excited by someone of the opposite sex for a long time. Nick was wonderful, sweet and kind but she’d known him all of her life. He was more like a best friend than a boyfriend and would always be a huge part of her life.

But Ross Ferguson certainly had her attention, she thought, touching her face where his warm fingers had been.

“N
ow who’s grinning from ear to ear?” Holly whispered when Gemma returned to their kiosk.

“Hush,” Gemma said, blushing at her friend’s teasing.

“I haven’t seen you smile like that in a while.”

“He’s a nice man. We had lunch. We talked.”

“About who killed Santa?” Holly guessed.

“Mostly.”

“Gemma, why are you so wound up in this?”

Gemma sighed. She’d been asking herself that question over and over during the past few hours. “He was my responsibility,” she finally said with tears in her eyes.

“What?”

“I found him. Dad always said that when someone hands you a problem, whether it’s yours or not, you stick with it until it’s fixed or solved. I feel like since I found him, I need to make sure we find out who killed him,” Gemma explained to her life-long friend.

She finally saw understanding dawning in Holly’s eyes.

“Your dad was a good guy,” Holly said.

“He was,” Gemma said, struggling not to cry at the mention of her father.

“He taught you well,” she said, reaching out to squeeze Gemma’s hand.

“Gemma, are you okay?” It was Nick, his handsome face filled with concern.

At the sight of him, Gemma did burst into tears and within seconds she was in the safe haven of his strong arms. She buried her face in his shoulder and sobbed quietly as he held her, brushing his fingers through her hair. He murmured to her softly until she calmed down, like he had done a hundred times in the last few months.

Gemma managed to pull herself together after just a few minutes. She hated creating a scene there in public and was thankful that there were no shoppers nearby. Still sniffing and wiping her eyes, she looked up to see Detective Ross Ferguson standing nearby, watching closely. When he seemed satisfied that she was okay, he gave her a little nod and then turned and walked away.

The next couple of days there were no developments in the case. Holly, Gemma and Brenda settled into a schedule that seemed to work well for all of them and their jewelry was growing more popular by the day, especially the heart rate monitor. The fact that their kiosk was right down from the gym helped with that.

The day of Santa’s funeral (and Gemma could not help but think of Sam McLear as Santa) dawned bright and clear with snow still sticking to the ground. It was at ten in the morning and she traded shifts with Holly and her mom so she could attend.

“You’re going to the funeral?” Holly had asked the night before, looking surprised.

Gemma nodded.

“Honey, you couldn’t even attend Mr. Pursey’s funeral,” Holly reminded her.

It was true. Holly’s cat had died not long after she’d buried her parents. She practically broke out in hives at the thought of attending that simple service in Holly’s back yard.

“Well, I want to make sure Mrs. McLear and the children are okay,” Gemma explained.

“And you want to see if whoever killed him shows up,” Holly said.

“Yeah, well, there’s that,” Gemma confessed.

“But you’re not going to do anything about that, are you.” It was a statement, not a question and Holly’s stern look made her look more like her mother every day.

“No, ma’am,” Gemma promised.

“My real question is, are you sure you’re up to this and do you want some company?” Holly asked.

Gemma assured her friend that she could handle the funeral home, but maybe not the funeral. She was going to try, though, and she would be fine on her own.

She thought about that conversation as she dressed for the day. Not wanting to dress all in black, Gemma added a dark green sweater to her black slacks and pulled on her favorite high heeled boots.

“And I’m sure Ross will be there as well,” she said to herself in the mirror. The thought made her feel braver.

Gemma applied her make-up carefully, brushed her red gold hair until it glistened and then ended up tying the unruly curls back with a scrunchie. “Am I the only girl in town who would go to a funeral home trying to look nice in case I see that handsome detective again?” she asked her reflection.

The girl - no, the woman - in the mirror didn’t know.

Gemma didn’t have to be directed to the room where Santa was laid to rest. All she had to do was follow the line of women and the sound of soft weeping that spilled out into the hall. Rosalie stood nearby the casket with an older woman on either side of her. Gemma guessed they were her mother and ex mother-in-law. She had to keep reminding herself that they were divorced. The children, dressed in clean clothing played quietly on a seat nearby. They were probably too young to even understand what was going on.

The line to view Sam’s casket was long, which would give her plenty of time to survey the crowd without seeming too obvious. Mostly she saw women, old and young, all sizes and shapes, and they seemed to be taking Sam’s death harder than Rosalie.

“See anyone you recognize?” It was Ross, his rumbling voice right at her ear.

Gemma yelped in surprise and then clapped both hands over her mouth when she noticed several of the other ladies glaring at her. “You scared me,” she hissed.

“I like scaring you,” Ross teased.

“I’m guessing you’re just here to pay your respects,” he said as they moved forward together a few feet.

“”Of course,” Gemma assured him. “Just like you.”

“I’m here doing my job,” he said, placing his hand on the small of her back as he moved in close behind her. “Now, do you see anyone you recognize?”

Gemma scanned the crowd, trying to ignore the heat spreading outward from his fingers. “Grady Jackson near the back of the room,” she reported.

“I think he’s here trying to do my job,” Ross told her. “Anyone else?”

“Lots and lots of women,” Gemma said.

“No Bill or Edna Chambers?” he asked.

Gemma shook her head. “None of the elves from Santa Land either.”

“Good job,” he whispered.

Gemma felt pretty proud of herself.

“So it looks like this might have been a waste of my time,” he whispered.

“Not really. I have something I forgot to tell you at lunch the other day,” Gemma said as they moved forward again, inching closer and closer to that casket. She did everything she could not to look at it or think about what lay ahead.

“Oh, yeah?” Ross asked, leaning in closer, his hand on her waist now.

Gemma nodded and smiled at the little girl who had almost found her step-father strangled to death in his Santa costume. “The day Santa, Sam, was killed, Bill told me Edna stayed home because she was under the weather.”

“She always looks a little frail and just tired to me,” Ross said.

“But when I spoke with her the next day and asked how she was feeling, she said she’d never been sick. That Bill insisted she stay at home,” Gemma said, glancing up to see Ross’s reaction.