Slay Bells Ring (A Christmas Cozy Mystery Series Book 2)

  Slay Bells Ring

  A Christmas Cozy Mystery: Book Two

  Mona Marple

  Copyright © 2020 by Mona Marple

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Dear Chronicle Readers

  Christmas Mystery Bonuses

  About the Author

  1

  New Year’s Eve in Candy Cane Hollow.

  I had to pinch myself as I stretched and sat up in bed. The view from my window was just as if someone had taken a white blanket and covered the ground with it.

  Another fresh snowfall had come down overnight. I’d never seen snow like it!

  There was a soft rap on the door and before I could answer, in walked Mrs Claus. She was wearing a red velour tracksuit with the Claus Crest emblazoned on the chest pocket.

  “Wow, look at you,” I said as I wiped the sleep out of my eyes.

  “Sorry to disturb you dear, but you did say you wanted to join me this morning,” Mrs Claus said.

  “I sure did,” I agreed. As soon as Mrs Claus had told me about her tradition of visiting all of the local businesses on New Year’s Eve, I’d decided it would be a great way to see more of Candy Cane Hollow.

  “I’m making porridge. We don’t want you setting out on an empty stomach,” Mrs Claus said.

  “You’re having some too?” I asked.

  Mrs Claus giggled. “The rest of us have already had breakfast. Come on down when you’re ready, dear.”

  She left the room and pulled the door closed behind her. I reached for my phone and tapped it to see the time - almost 11am!

  I groaned. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept in so long, never mind while I was a guest in someone else’s home!

  I darted up and had a quick shower, dried my hair and pulled on a jumper dress, tights and knee boots.

  A round of applause broke out as I entered the kitchen, and at least I had the decency to blush a little.

  “I’m so sorry,” I began.

  “Nonsense, you clearly needed your rest,” Father Christmas himself said. He leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped across his big belly, a twinkle in his eyes. That twinkle had never left his eyes since I’d first met him, and I was starting to think it was a permanent feature.

  “I for one am grateful that you slept in for most of the day. It gave Mrs Claus a chance to reveal how she truly feels about my cooking,” Gilbert, the elf, exclaimed.

  “What are you talking about?” Mrs Claus asked with a laugh.

  “I prepared your breakfast and now you’re insisting that you make the porridge for Holly. Perhaps I should hang up my apron and become a reindeer trainer!”

  “Oh, Gilbert,” Mrs Claus said as she continued to stir the porridge. It smelt amazing but I didn’t dare say that.

  “A reindeer trainer? I can’t see that! You’ve been pampered indoors for too long, Gilbert,” Father Christmas said with a belly laugh.

  “I know people. I could find a job on the reindeer circuit. What’s that person called? Lilly-Rue? Peggy-Sue? Annie-Poo?”

  “Annie-Poo?” Nick asked as he joined us in the kitchen. I swallowed as I saw him, and as our eyes met a jolt of electricity passed between us.

  “Something like that. She’s a distant relative. Anyway, since my cooking skills aren’t up to much, I’ll go and polish the baubles,” Gilbert shrugged.

  “Thank you, dear,” Mrs Claus called, but he had already left.

  “He really is quite dramatic, isn’t he?” I asked.

  “He’s a very, erm, spirited elf,” Mrs Claus said with a wink.

  “That’s one way of putting it,” Nick smiled and revealed the dimple in his cheek. I looked away but not before I felt my cheeks flame.

  “Holly’s joining me this morning on my little visit to the local businesses. Isn’t that lovely, Nick?”

  “Yes, mum. It’ll be a great chance for Holly to explore Candy Cane Hollow more.”

  “And what are you doing today?” I asked him.

  “Dad and I are going over the stats from Christmas, seeing how the delivery run went.”

  “Don’t tell me even Santa has targets!” I joked.

  Nick grimaced. “It’s all about the APDS - Average Present Delivery Speed.”

  “Don’t forget the LPT - Lost Present Tally. The elves can really get grumpy if they feel a present they worked on got lost in transit!” Father Christmas added.

  “Which I can understand. They work hard,” Nick said.

  “That’s enough work talk. Nick, you need to improve your conversation skills. Why don’t you ask Holly more interesting questions, like what she sees in a man or where her ideal first date would be?” Mrs Claus asked.

  “Mother!” Nick exclaimed.

  I giggled, and ate my porridge.

  Ever since Mrs Claus had rescued me from a snowy car crash and brought me to Candy Cane Hollow, I’d been trying to fight my attraction to Nick. And failing.

  “I’m ready,” I said. I pushed my chair back and picked up my bowl, just as Gilbert returned to the room.

  “Let me guess. You’re washing your own dishes now, too? I’ll be jobless and homeless for the New Year at this rate!”

  “Oh, Gilbert, don’t be silly,” Mrs Claus soothed.

  I placed my bowl back on the table, as much as it pained me not to use my manners and tidy away after myself.

  “I was just going to rinse it so the porridge didn’t dry, but…”

  “Holly Wood! You imagine this to be a residence where porridge is allowed to dry on a bowl? Jumping Jack Frost, if my mother could see what I’ve become. I’ll wash that bowl right away and then get my coat!”

  Nick stifled a laugh and I followed Mrs Claus into the hallway and put on my coat, gloves and scarf.

  “Are we taking Baby?” I asked.

  “No, you’re not!” Father Christmas’s booming voice came from behind us.

  “A sleigh will be safer in this weather, dear,” Mrs Claus said and gave me a wink.

  “You were going to take Baby, weren’t you?” I whispered as soon as we’d said our goodbyes and left Claus Cottage.

  “Of course I was! But my husband has a good point. We’ll save the Cadillac for another day. Oh!”

  “Oh?”

  “You will be here, won’t you, dear? We’re all hoping so much that you’ll make this more of a permanent situation.”

  “I’d like to,” I admitted with a smile. I’d never seen anywhere as magical as Candy Cane Hollow and still felt disbelief that the place really existed.

  “That’s settled then. We’ll just sort out the finer details. Oh, Holly, I’m so glad I found you! Now, let’s go and spread some festive cheer with our hard working town folk!”

  Mrs Claus was small and slight, but she controlled the sleigh as well as she did the baby pink Cadillac. The pair of reindeer who pulled us across the snowy landscape obeyed her every command and we were on the High
Street before I knew it.

  “First stop, The Greasy Spoon!” Mrs Claus declared as she practically jumped down from the sleigh. I got down too, although nowhere near as gracefully as she had.

  In Candy Cane Hollow, the Claus family were practically royalty, and every person and elf we saw was overcome with excitement when they spotted us.

  Mrs Claus knew everyone by name and gave everyone a personal greeting, asking about children and second cousins and whether the result of that medical test had come back yet. It was mighty impressive to watch.

  “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!” A woman with a triple pushchair called out to us.

  Mrs Claus and I waved to her, even as I calculated that we must be almost 360 days away from the next Christmas.

  “It’s always Christmas here, isn’t it?” I asked.

  “We have the spirit of Christmas all year around! It’s marvellous!”

  “Wow. And everyone loves you, that’s obvious.”

  “This is the work that goes along with being Mrs Claus, dear. It’s the best job in the world.”

  “I can believe it,” I said, but I knew there was a deeper meaning behind her words. Mrs Claus was desperate to see Nick settled down, and I realised that she was having me join her so I could see what could be in my future if she got her way.

  Not that I was against the idea of spending a lifetime gazing into Nick Claus’ eyes. And that dimple, oh my.

  Mrs Claus was about to push open the door to The Greasy Spoon, a cafe that I’d never set foot in before, when someone opened the door from within.

  “Mrs Claus won’t be opening the door for herself on my watch, oh no Sir! Come, come, take a seat, what’ll it be?” A short and immaculately dressed man asked. He was wearing a glittery red blazer and his facial hair was trimmed to perfection.

  “Twisty! How kind of you. Holly and I would love some of your famous winter berry tea, if that’s not too much trouble?”

  “Nothing could ever be too much trouble for you, Mrs Claus!”

  “Bacon sarnie for the gals too?” An older and rotund elf with a gleaming bald spot appeared from the kitchen and wiped his hands on his apron.

  “Greasy! There you are!” Mrs Claus exclaimed.

  “Alright, Mrs C?”

  “Mrs Claus will certainly not be eating a bacon sarnie, Greasy. I could make a lovely smashed avocado and pancetta on sourdough, though?”

  “They want their bellies full of proper food, mate, none of this fancy stuff!” Greasy rolled his eyes.

  “Just the tea will be fabulous, really, we have a busy day ahead and we ate at home. But both of your suggestions sound wonderful. Another day!” Mrs Claus said diplomatically.

  Greasy humphed and returned to the kitchen.

  “I’m beginning to realise that being Mrs Claus is quite the political position,” I murmured.

  Mrs Claus laughed and her eyes twinkled with mischief, but she was far too polite to respond.

  “I’m guessing he’s the owner and The Greasy Spoon is named after him?”

  “Greasy and Twisty are business partners, they own the place jointly,” Mrs Claus explained.

  Twisty returned to our table with beautiful glassware, and poured us each a glass of amaranth coloured tea. It smelled divine.

  “I was just explaining to Holly here that you and Greasy own this delightful place,” Mrs Claus said.

  “We sure do. We’ve been in business together almost two years now.”

  “That’s a brave decision for people with different ideas about food,” I said with a smile.

  Twisty raised an eyebrow and gave a mock pout. “I’m trying to teach him a more refined palate but you know what they say… Rome wasn’t built in a day!”

  “Well, good luck, dear,” Mrs Claus laughed.

  A series of bangs and crashes came from the kitchen and Twisty offered his apologies.

  “Twisty!” Greasy pushed open the kitchen door and glared across at his business partner.

  I watched as a woman who sat alone in the far corner took out a notepad and jotted something down.

  “Greasy, we have customers. Keep your voice down! Whatever’s wrong?”

  “Don’t mind us, it sounds like a stressful morning. Is everything okay, Greasy?” Mrs Claus asked.

  “Unprofessional,” the woman in the corner said with a tut.

  “Peggy-Sue, I’m sorry! What are you writing there? Nothing serious, I hope? Can I refill your tea?” Twisty gushed.

  “Did you hide the ketchup?” Greasy stomped across the cafe and squared up to Twisty, who flinched and took a step back.

  “No!”

  “You liar! You’ve taken the ketchup! How dare you come into my kitchen and mess with…”

  “Your kitchen?” Twisty exclaimed.

  “It’s my name on the door, pal!”

  “And wasn’t that a mistake? I just thought it was a funny play on words, but it’s gone right to your big, shining, bald head!”

  Mrs Claus gasped. “Now, Twisty…”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs Claus, I don’t know what came over me!” Twisty said. His eyes filled with tears.

  Greasy tore off his apron and stomped towards the door.

  “Where are you going, dear?” Mrs Claus called after him.

  “To buy more ketchup, of course! And I’ll be keeping it locked away out of his reach!”

  With that, Greasy stormed out of The Greasy Spoon and trudged away in the snow.

  “Oh, dear,” Mrs Claus said.

  “Unprofessional! Incredibly unprofessional! To walk out during opening hours, in front of you of all people, Mrs Claus. I can’t get my head around such behaviour!”

  “But, Twisty, why did you take the ketchup?”

  Twisty froze, open-mouthed. “I…”

  “Don’t lie, dear. I’ve known you since you were in a pushchair. Whatever were you thinking?”

  Twisty placed his hands on his cheeks and let out a sigh. “That elf has an unnatural love for ketchup, Mrs Claus. I’ve never seen anything like it. He’ll add it to anything! How are we ever going to become a more upmarket place if he’s classing ketchup as a main food group?”

  I stifled a laugh.

  “I know it’s frustrating, dear.”

  “Here’s an idea. Why don’t you introduce a condiment station out here. Then the customers can add ketchup if they want to. You can put out some nice dips and garnishes as well, things you’d like to see people try more often,” I suggested.

  Twisty considered the idea then burst into a grin. “I love it! I’ll get on to that right away, before You Know Who can object to the idea! I can sure see why Santa has you on his nice list.”

  I felt my cheeks flame and gave an awkward laugh.

  Mrs Claus said nothing, but gave me a warm smile and a slight nod. We drank our tea and then it was time to move on and pay another Candy Cane Hollow business a festive visit.

  2

  Mrs Claus and I finished our visits right in time to return to Claus Cottage for lunch.

  None of the other visits had been as eventful as the first. We’d visited The Polar Arms, where Ginger Rumples had pulled a pint for each of us despite the early hour, and Sleigh A While, a fairly new and upmarket coffee shop.

  We’d admired the latest collection of clothes in Winter Warmers, and Mrs Claus had shown me her favourite kitchen accessories in Ho-Ho-Home from Home.

  Every shop owner had been excited to see us and their warmth was infectious. I realised just how special Mrs Claus was and what an excellent job she did of making everyone in town feel valued.

  We even went across town to Candy Cane Custody, where Chief Superintendent Wiggles made us hot chocolates and shared his concerns about the latest crime spree in the town - a chestnut tree had been stripped bare overnight, which went against the town’s Only Take Your Fair Share rule.

  Back at Claus Cottage, Gilbert had managed not to walk out and was instead checking on jacket potatoes as if his life depended o
n it.

  “The skin must be crispy! And I can’t open the oven and check, that would ruin it,” he said. He was cross-legged on the kitchen floor, gazing in through the oven’s glass panel.

  “Oh, Gilbert, the lengths you go to for us. Thank you, dear!” Mrs Claus exclaimed. She clearly thought that the sensitive elf was in need of a compliment.

  “Where are the others?” I tried to sound nonchalant.

  “Your Santa in shining armour is still at work. Father Christmas too. There’s no rest for the wicked! Their jacket potatoes will be ruined, because of course nobody tells Gilbert when they’ll be home,” the elf muttered to himself.

  “That’s a good point. I’ll be sure to mention it to them,” Mrs Claus said as we left the kitchen.

  In the den, Mrs Claus flicked on the TV. It was constantly switched to the Christmas movies channel and they played out in the background.

  “So, what did you think of our little tour today?” Mrs Claus asked.

  “I had a really great time. I found it fascinating getting to see the local businesses and meet more people - and elves.”

  “We have such a wonderful community here, Holly. And we really do welcome new people,” Mrs Claus said. She was many things but subtle wasn’t one of them.

  “I do want to stay. I guess it’s all just happening so fast. I didn’t even know this place existed a few days ago!”

  Mrs Claus shook her head. “Oh, listen to me. I don’t want to put you under any pressure. I have some thank you cards to write out so I’ll leave you to it for a while, is that okay?”

  “Sure,” I said. I’d never met anyone who wrote as many thank you cards as Mrs Claus. It was a wonder that she hadn’t developed RSI.

  Mrs Claus went off to her study and I watched the Christmas movie for a few minutes, enjoying the peace and quiet.

  And then my phone rang.