Death of a Christmas Caterer (17 page)

BOOK: Death of a Christmas Caterer
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Chapter 28
The choir was on its last refrain of “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” Once they took their seats, that would be the cue for Gemma and Hugo to take to the stage for the opening scene of the young couple in search of shelter for the night. Gemma had already stuffed a pillow up her robe to create the illusion of Mary's pregnancy.
Reverend Staples rushed up to his wife, Edie, and hissed, “Where in God's name is Hugo?”
“He left,” Edie said, with a dazed look on her face.
“What? Why?”
“We were just talking . . . and . . . and . . .” The minister's wife's voice trailed off.
Out in the church they heard the choir finish singing, followed by feet clomping, indicating the choir members were now walking to their seats.
Edie clasped her hands together and closed her eyes.
“What are you doing?” Reverend Staples asked.
“Praying to the good Lord for a fast miracle.”
“We don't have time for that! We need a Joseph right now!” Reverend Staples cried.
“I'll do it. I'll fill in for Hugo. I'll play Joseph,” Hayley found herself saying, desperate to find a quick solution.
“That's preposterous,” Reverend Staples said, scowling. “You look
nothing
like a boy!”
“Well, I'm the only one here not already cast in the play, so I don't see how much of a choice we have,” Hayley said, picking up a bushy wig and beard attachment.
Mona ambled over from the refreshment table, feeling no pain after sharing the bottle of red wine with the fidgety and nervous Wilbur White, who was playing the innkeeper.
“What's the holdup? Let's get this show on the road!”
There was an awkward silence out in the church as the audience patiently waited for the play to start.
“Mona,” Edie whispered. “Mona looks like a man.”
“I beg your pardon,” Mona said, a little too tipsy to be offended.
Hayley threw the wig on Mona and pasted the beard on her face.
“Gemma, go out there and stall for time until we find Mona a costume!” Edie said, pushing her out the parlor door into the main church, where Gemma crossed in front of the first row of pews. Gingerly ascending the stairs, she tripped on the hem of her baby blue Virgin Mary robe, falling flat on her face. Just like Jennifer Lawrence at the Oscars.
The audience gasped.
Her uncle Randy bolted from his aisle seat and helped her stand back up.
Steadying herself, she made it up on the stage, which was decorated as a village and manger.
Polite applause met Gemma as she finally found the center-stage spotlight. Most people were just relieved the show was finally under way. Hayley could hear whoops and hollers from Gemma's wildly supportive uncles Randy and Sergio.
Reverend Staples shook his head until he was dizzy. “This is never going to work. This is never going to work.”
“He's right,” Mona said. “I don't know any of the lines. I don't even know what the play is about.”
“It's the story of Christ's Birth,” Hayley said.
“So who am I supposed to be? Moses?”
“Oh, dear God, we're doomed!” Edie wailed in despair.
“Look, I'm sorry. I just came here tonight to cheer Gemma on,” Mona said. “I don't know anything about the Bible. The few times my parents made me go to church, I skipped Sunday school and went to the Rexall drugstore for a root beer float with some of the money the church gave us kids for staying quiet during the service.”
“We don't pay children not to talk during church!” Reverend Staples said huffily.
“Well, my place of worship did. They had this big gold tin and it was overflowing with fives and twenties.”
“That was the collection plate, Mona!” Hayley said. “You took the donations to the church!”
Hayley heard Gemma's voice calling from out on the stage. “Who will give my husband, Joseph, and me lodging in our time of need?”
Hayley snatched a white robe and hurled it at Mona. “I can tell she's dying out there! Here! Put this on and get out there and save my daughter from further humiliation.”
“But I told you I have no idea what to say—”
“You can wing it! Just follow Gemma's lead,” Hayley whispered frantically.
They could hear Gemma doing an admirable job keeping things moving until Joseph arrived. Feeling the baby kick. Pontificating on what name she would call her baby before finally settling on Jesus if it was a boy. And Caitlin if it was a girl. Wondering what could have happened to her husband.
Finally Mona trudged out the parlor door into the church, adjusting her beard. There were a few titters, but nobody recognized her right away.
Hayley closed the door just enough so she could still see what was happening on the stage.
“Joseph, I've been so worried. Where have you been?” Gemma improvised.
“Drinks Like A Fish,” Mona said. “It was happy hour.”
The audience roared with laughter.
At that point they all realized who was playing the part of Joseph and broke into more applause.
Mona, not a trained actress by any stretch of the imagination, turned and smiled and waved at the crowd.
A ham was born.
Gemma plowed on like a pro. “Why don't you knock on the door and see if the innkeeper has a room for us to stay tonight.”
Mona looked around, dumbfounded. “What door? I don't see a door.”
“Just pretend there's one there,” Gemma whispered.
Mona then stomped her foot three times as she made a knocking motion with her hand.
“Damn! I forgot my cue!” Wilbur cried as he blew past Hayley, pushing her to the side, where she nearly bashed her head on the door frame.
Wilbur clomped up on stage. “Go away! I have no vacancies!”
“Of course you do! It's off-season!” Mona argued. “What do you think this is, Fourth of July weekend in Bar Harbor?”
More raucous laughter from the audience.
At the very least, Mona was personalizing the story for the locals.
Hayley wheeled around to see Revered Staples with a shell-shocked expression on his face and his wife, Edie, on the verge of tears as they watched the impromptu comedy act now unfolding on stage after weeks of hard work mounting their production.
Gemma and Mona muddled through the scene and then continued on in search of a manger to stay the night before it was mercifully time for the Three Wise Men to take to the stage to do a humorous bit about how two of them weren't so wise. It was a series of dumb jokes that couldn't be found in the Bible; it just afforded the auteur Edie the chance to add a little comic relief to her script, having no idea Mona would be providing most of the night's biggest laughs. The Three Wise Men weren't exactly the Three Amigos; most of their lines fell flat and even elicited a few groans. Edie Staples was no Tina Fey when it came to sharp and funny scriptwriting. It was obvious the audience was itching for Mona to come back.
Gemma charged into the parlor, where Hayley was waiting. “Mom, how could you do that? How could you scare Hugo off?”
“To be fair, I was willing to let it go, but it was Edie, who—”

You
started it!”
“You're absolutely right. I am so, so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.”
“Come on! It was meant to be!” Mona said, proudly scratching her beard as she followed Gemma into the parlor. “I'm a friggin' star! I'm killing it out there!”
Gemma was not amused.
“You don't believe me? Look!” Mona said, handing Gemma her phone. “Your own brother, Dustin, just tweeted this.”
Gemma read it, sighed with an eye roll, and handed the phone to Hayley: Mona steals show #laughingmyassoff
“Not helping, Mona,” Hayley said, tossing the phone back to her.
“Mom, why won't you leave Hugo alone?”
“Because I'm convinced he knows something he's not telling and it's eating him up inside and I know he would feel a lot better if he just told someone the truth.”
“Then go talk to him after the show.”
“I have no idea where to find him.”
“Well, I do,” Gemma said, bending over to stuff the pillow, which had made its way down to her ankles, back up her robe. “And I'll tell you if I don't die of embarrassment first from this train wreck of a pageant!”
With a deep breath Gemma marched back out on stage.
“What the hell is she talking about? We're a hit! We could take this show on the road!” Mona said, beaming, as she followed her out.
Chapter 29
Hayley used her iPhone as a flashlight as she approached the grand nineteenth-century weathered bay-front mansion, which was boarded up for the winter. The dirt road down to the main house was frozen solid, so she had to be careful not to slip and fall and crack her head wide open on the sheet of ice.
She heard a noise in the brush and stopped suddenly, aiming her illuminated phone to where the sound emerged. She spotted a wide-eyed coyote, who was just as surprised as she was, foraging for food there. They stared numbly at one another for a few seconds before the coyote thought it best to dash off into the woods to avoid any further contact.
Hayley continued toward the side porch, which wrapped around the mansion, and made her way up the creaky steps and to the screen door, which kept banging from the bitter-cold winter wind. She swung it open and found the heavy back door behind it unlocked.
She heard someone coming up the steps behind her and spun around just as the light on her iPhone went out, plunging her into darkness. She could barely make out the shadowy figure advancing.
He looked as if he was wearing some kind of mask and was carrying something in his hands.
Was it a weapon?
An axe?
A baseball bat?
“Stay back!” Hayley yelled, pressing the button on the bottom of her phone so the light flashed back on.
The stranger froze just a few feet from her.
She pointed the phone at him.
Standing before her was Hugo.
He wasn't wearing a mask.
The hood of his heavy winter coat was just pulled up over his head to warm his ears.
And he wasn't gripping a weapon.
It was a pizza box.
He squinted his eyes in the harsh light.
“Mrs. Powell? What are you doing here? How did you find me?”
“Gemma said you might be here.”
The mansion belonged to a filthy rich family from Chicago; they owned a company with a best-selling line of bacon products. The property was mostly frequented in the summer months by the founder's granddaughter, who was rather snooty. The locals referred to her behind her back as the “Pig Princess.” Upon her departure in mid-September, she had hired Hugo's father to check up on the place occasionally during the winter months to make sure the pipes didn't freeze from the cold weather. It was a cushy gig for any local and Hugo's pop was paid handsomely.
As they got to know one another, Hugo told Gemma that he would borrow his father's key from time to time and hang out at the mansion when he needed an escape from his life or a place to think. It was remote and quiet, and Gemma got the feeling that Hugo preferred spending time alone rather than socializing with other people. His worried mother had insisted he audition for the Nativity pageant because she wanted him to make more friends.
Hugo brushed past Hayley. “My pizza's getting cold.”
“Hugo, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you right before you went out on stage tonight,” Hayley said, starting to follow him before he slammed the screen door in her face. “Please, can I just come in and talk to you for a minute?”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I don't know anything!”
“I want to believe you. I really do. But your face is telling me a different story.”
“Why can't you just leave me alone?”
“Because a man has been killed. You may not have known him well. He may mean nothing to you. But he certainly meant something to a lot of people. His family. His neighbors. His clients. And if someone deliberately took his life, then he is owed some kind of justice, don't you agree?”
Hugo's bottom lip quivered.
He was trying not to cry.
Hayley slowly opened the screen door.
He didn't stop her.
She entered the kitchen.
Hugo still held the pizza box.
His hands were shaking.
“Hugo, you don't have to talk to me. I'm not a police officer or a detective. But it's very important you talk to Chief Alvares if you know something that can help with his investigation.”
“I can't. . . .”
“Why not?”
“I just can't. . . .”
“Honey, if you willfully withhold key information that could lead to the arrest of the person responsible, then that's called ‘obstruction of justice' and you could be arrested.”
Hugo's eyes popped open and he dropped the pizza box to the floor.
“They could send me to jail?”
“Yes. That's why it's vitally important you tell the police anything you know.”
Hugo gazed at the floor, his mind obviously racing.
Finally he glanced back up to Hayley. “Will you come with me?”
“Of course.”
Hugo nodded and opened his mouth to speak, when all of a sudden they heard a loud thump.
Someone or something was lurking outside.
And whatever it was sounded much bigger than a coyote.
BOOK: Death of a Christmas Caterer
5.3Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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