Christmas Corpse (A Christmas Cozy Mystery Series Book 1)

  Christmas Corpse

  A Christmas Cozy Mystery Series

  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.

  Cover design by Beetiful Book Covers.

  Christmas Cozy Mystery Bonuses

  Help yourself to a festive fun pack, available exclusively at:

  https://dl.bookfunnel.com/9ckxf7kcfh

  Ho-ho-hope you enjoy it!

  Mona x

  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

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  About the Author

  1

  I groaned as the festive chatter of the radio DJ ended, and the next song began. Driving Home For Christmas. Of course. I rolled my eyes and turned the dial, but of course the old rust bucket of a car couldn’t find any other stations for me to listen to.

  I turned the volume down, then felt an enormous yawn build inside me, and turned it back up again.

  The merry cheer might not be the company I wanted, but it was the best that was available. And even in my forlorn state, I could see the irony of having to listen to that particular song as I did, indeed, drive home for Christmas.

  If only my home wasn’t empty, maybe I’d be able to share the good feelings. I’d been a lover of all things Christmas once upon a time. But where was the sense in trimming up the house and making Christmas dinner, just for me? The empty house waiting for me was why I’d worked so late, I knew, even as I told my co-workers that I just wanted to leave things all neat for the next person.

  It was the last working day before Christmas and the rest of the clinic staff had darted out of the place at 5pm exactly, most of them wearing a Christmas jumper or a pair of festive earrings. Some even had a strand of tinsel wrapped around their ponytails.

  I’d been living the high life as a locum GP for the last nine months, but the woman whose maternity leave I had been covering would return to her old post in the New Year, meaning I was out of a job and out of excuses not to spend more time in my empty house.

  I rolled the window down a little and shivered as the frigid air joined me inside the vehicle. Setting off home without a warmer change of clothes wasn’t my best idea. My silk blouse, pencil skirt and heels were basic office attire but the car’s heater had given up months ago. The yawns were worrying me, though, and I knew a blast of cold air was a good way to help me stay alert.

  The snow was coming thick and fast and I’d lost my sense of direction. I hadn’t passed the exit, I was sure of that. The problem was that everything looked the same covered in the white blanket that the snow provided.

  I jumped at the sound of my phone ringing. My ancient Bluetooth system somehow connected the phone to the car, but the screen didn’t reveal who the caller was. It made every call an adventure.

  “Hello? Can you hear me?” I asked. I didn’t trust the Bluetooth completely.

  “Holly!”

  “August?” I asked. My sister was, you guessed it, an August baby. I was a Christmas baby and just grateful my parents named me Holly instead of December.

  “Hey! Merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas!” I replied. My sister’s enthusiasm was infectious, that was for sure.

  “Are you driving? In the storm?”

  “I’m being safe, don’t worry. Anyway, I’m the big sister, I’m the one who should worry.”

  “Oh, sure, you can worry about me. My life is super exciting and risky right now!”

  “How is Jeb?”

  “Adorable! But I’m not having this conversation while you’re driving.”

  “I’m fine!” I insisted.

  “Nope, no way. What would mu…”

  “Okay, fine, I’ll let you go,” I interrupted.

  “Holly…” my sister said. She knew exactly what I was doing. I heard Jeb begin to fuss in the background.

  “You go, we’ll speak soon. I love you,” I said.

  “I love you too,” August replied.

  I ended the call and pictured the way her brow would furrow with concern for a moment, until her hunky husband Tom handed baby Jeb to her and she returned to her perfect life. I didn’t begrudge her having all she had. Trust me, if anyone deserved perfect, it was August. It just made it harder to ignore how much of a failure I was when I had her as my little sister. Not even my big sister! I was supposed to be the one who took the lead and set the example.

  I smiled and shook my head. August was my best friend. And she’d taken it well when I’d turned down the invitation to join her for Christmas. I usually spent the holiday with her, in her cute little cottage that looked fresh out of Good Housekeeping, but I didn’t want to intrude this year. Not baby Jeb’s first Christmas. That should be an occasion that August and Tom got to themselves.

  I’d be fine. Christmas would be different, of course, but the fact was it had been different ever since our mum had died. The magic of the season seemed to have left us, or me at least, when she did.

  The radio DJ read out a warning about heavy snow and I wondered if I’d be able to make it to the supermarket before the place closed. I’d put it off right to the last minute. If I couldn’t get there, it really would be a pitiful Christmas Day. I’d probably end up eating ramen from the cupboard.

  I laughed at the thought of that, but the grin was wiped off my face as I felt the car lose control. I recognised the sensation of planing across ice, but how could that be possible? The snow was so deep. Was there black ice hidden under the fresh snowfall?

  I remembered to steer into the skid, even as every part of my body wanted to fight against it. It was no use, the car was going to end up wherever the ice took it, and I felt grateful that nobody else was crazy enough to be out on the road. At least there was no chance of me hitting another car.

  That thought made me smile, and then the car collided with something, and there was a wallop against the windscreen as a fresh load of snow was dislodged. I shivered. I couldn’t feel my toes anymore.

  I suddenly felt incredibly tired. It had been such a busy week, and really I had nothing to rush home for.

  I decided to close my eyes, just for a moment.

  2

  In the dream, I was warm. So warm that I wanted to tell someone to turn the heat down a little. Except nobody was there. It was just me, surrounded by a dazzling white light, getting hotter and hotter.

  The rap-rap-rap made my eyes flutter open, but I was still surrounded by dazzling white, so I closed them again. It was too bright, and too hot.

  I felt hands on me then, heard a gasp, felt someone attempt to shake me.

  “Oh, finally, can you turn the heat down?” I asked. “Please?”

  “Goodness,” came the reply, and something about the voice made me snap my eyes open. Right there, her face in my face, was a small
woman with silver hair, bright eyes and the most elaborate red dress I’d ever seen in my life.

  I gazed at her and wondered if I was dreaming.

  “You’re frozen, dear. We have to get you out of here. Can you move?”

  “No, no, I’m hot. Not cold.”

  The woman frowned at me. “It’s worse than I imagined then. We have to move quickly. What’s your name, dear?”

  “Holly,” I said. “Holly Wood.”

  “Well, that’s a good sign. If you’re well enough to joke…”

  “I’m not joking. That’s really my name,” I insisted. She wasn’t the first person to think it was a joke.

  “Okay then, Holly, I’m Mrs Claus, and that’s not a joke either. I’m going to count to three and then I’m pulling you out. If you can help, please do.”

  The woman – surely she wasn’t really called Mrs Claus – counted down and then pulled me out of the vehicle with a strength that came as a surprise.

  Outside, the sky had grown dark and the snow was still falling. I surveyed the scene. The front of my car had slammed right into a mound of snow, the windscreen was covered, and the fresh snowfall was halfway up the tyres.

  “How did you see me?” I asked.

  “Thankfully, you’d left your lights on. I was driving by and saw them. I’m so glad I found you, dear. How long were you stuck there?”

  “Only a second, I just closed my eyes for a… what time is it?”

  “It’s the middle of the night! Almost 8pm!”

  “That can’t be possible. I left work at six, so I must have crashed at half past at the latest. Have I really been there that long?”

  The woman pretending to be Mrs Claus shuddered at the thought and led me towards the only other car in sight.

  “Whoa! This is yours?”

  The woman beamed with pride. “It certainly is. It’s a 1959 Cadillac. I call her Baby.”

  “She’s beautiful. Are you sure it’s no trouble to take me… where are you taking me?”

  “I’ll take you home to Candy Cane Hollow, dear. We’ll get the doctor to check you over. Now, come on in.”

  “Candy Cane Hollow? I’ve never heard of a place by that name.”

  “We’re kind of off the beaten track,” the woman said with a wink.

  “And you’re really telling me your name is Mrs Claus?”

  “I am indeed. And a lady named Holly Wood surely understands what a predicament a name can be,” she said with a chuckle as she turned the key and the engine roared to life.

  I watched as we passed my car. I’d have to organise a recovery truck to collect it. I felt bad that I’d be interrupting someone’s Christmas break.

  “Everyone teased me at school about my name. They asked what films I’d been in. Even the careers advisor assumed I wanted to be an actor!”

  “Oh, that’s a shame. There are sweets in there, help yourself.”

  I opened the glove compartment and saw a stash of candy canes and a few chocolate Santas. I unwrapped the foil from a Santa and took a bite, let the sweet treat dissolve on my mouth.

  “The sugar will help,” Mrs Claus said.

  “Are you a nurse?” I asked.

  “No, no. I’m a mother, though. I’ve learned all kinds of tricks to help with injuries and illness.”

  “I don’t have children,” I admitted.

  “You don’t even look old enough!”

  “That’s very sweet, but I’m 29.”

  “You’re a baby! There’s time. Do you want children?”

  “Yes,” I admitted. “My sister’s 23 years old, already married with a baby, lives in this beautiful cottage, has her life all sorted.”

  “And you want that too?”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” I asked.

  Mrs Claus frowned a little. “I think some people never really know what they want. I’ve always imagined that that must be a dreadful shame. So many possibilities out there, and to not know which you want. It sounds to me, dear Holly, that you know what you want and you have plenty of time to find it. I’d say that makes you very blessed.”

  I felt a shudder across my spine. I really was freezing. How could I have ever believed that I was too hot?

  “I haven’t really thought of it that way before. You’re right. Thank you.”

  “You’re most welcome! I know that I can interfere sometimes, so please tell me if I overstep the mark. We’ll soon be in Candy Cane Hollow. You’ll love it!”

  Despite my earlier funk, I found myself smiling at Mrs Claus and looking out the window with excitement. We took an exit I’d never seen before and within seconds passed a charming sign that welcomed us to Candy Cane Hollow.

  I saw the lights up ahead and gasped as we drove past the largest Christmas tree I’d ever seen. It was decked out in baubles and lights that twinkled and surrounded by a group of people singing.

  “That’s the choir, dear. They’re really very good.”

  After that, we reached the village itself and I had to rub my eyes to believe what I was seeing. It was so quaint, with old buildings and tasteful Christmas lights strewn across each street.

  We drove slowly by a butchers, a bakers, and a bookshop. A few people milled around, most carrying bags, and each and every one stopped what they were doing and waved as we passed.

  Mrs Claus gave me a brief explanation of who each person was, and seemed genuinely delighted to have seen all of them.

  “Does everyone know each other here?” I asked.

  “But of course!” Mrs Claus exclaimed.

  “I don’t even know the people who live next door to me,” I admitted. I sent them a Christmas card every year in a bid to learn their names, and although they responded each year by popping a card through my letterbox, I could never read the handwriting to decipher their names.

  “Have they just moved in? You could bake cookies for them as a housewarming treat. Nobody can say no to home baked treats.”

  I smiled at the easy way that Mrs Claus viewed the world. Unfortunately, the neighbours had been there before me, and I’d been there for five years, so I couldn’t blame our stalled relationship on their new arrival.

  “This place is beautiful,” I said.

  “It’s really something, isn’t it?”

  “I can’t believe I’ve never heard of it.”

  “Well, there are lots of small places that time seems to forget. You know where it is now, dear, and you’re always welcome.”

  “Thank you,” I said as we pulled up outside a small doctor’s clinic. I got out of the car, feeling a twinge in my neck as I did, and entered after Mrs Claus.

  A slender woman in a red turtleneck was partway through painting her nails when we entered. She glanced up and grinned.

  “Mrs Claus! What a wonderful surprise! How are you? How’s Nick?”

  “Hello, Persephone, dear. Is Sirus around?”

  “Of course!” The receptionist jumped up from the desk, teetered across the room on impossibly high heels, and knocked on a door marked Dr Lancaster. A booming voice told her to enter, and she disappeared into the room.

  A moment later, she returned and ushered us into the doctor’s room.

  “Mrs Claus! What can I do for you?” Dr Lancaster asked as we all took seats inside. He was a big bear of a man and the pen he picked up from his desk looked tiny in his paw of a hand.

  “It’s not me, dear, it’s Holly here. I found her inside her car out on the main road. There’d been a snow drift. We think she’d been inside the vehicle for more than an hour.”

  Dr Lancaster raised a bushy eyebrow and directed me to lie on the bed in the corner of the room. I did as he said.

  He told me to close my eyes and tell him when I felt him touch me with what looked like a lollipop stick. I closed my eyes and waited.

  “Hmm,” Dr Lancaster said. I opened my eyes in alarm. Hmm was never the reaction I wanted from a doctor. I looked at my body and saw that he was pressing the lollipop stick into my arm. I couldn’t fee
l it at all.

  “That’s not good, right?”

  “Did you lose consciousness at all before Mrs Claus found you?”

  I shifted on the bed. “I think I was unconscious pretty much all of that time.”

  Dr Lancaster gave a whistle. “You’ve got a fairly mild case of frostbite, Ms…”

  “Wood. Holly Wood,” I said.

  “Really?” He raised an eyebrow again.

  “Yes! Really!” I said with a laugh.

  “Okay then. Mild frostbite. You need to gradually warm your body up. It has to be gradual, that’s the key thing. You’ll be fine, but you may want to say thank you to Mrs Claus.”

  “Oh, stop,” Mrs Claus objected.

  “She saved your life, Ms Wood,” Dr Lancaster said, and I gulped as I realised how close I had come to dying.

  3

  Back in the waiting room, the receptionist eyed me suspiciously in between finishing off her bright red nails. A half-eaten mince pie sat by her side on the desk. Homemade, of course.

  “You’re not from here,” she said.

  “No,” I said. “It’s a wonderful place, though. I really like it.”

  “Well, don’t get any ideas. We’re full.”

  “You’re full?” I repeated, with a laugh.

  “Every house is taken and every job is filled. Mrs Claus has a habit of rescuing waifs and strays, but just remember that this isn’t your home and you don’t belong here.”

  “Wow,” I said under my breath.

  Mrs Claus burst out of the doctor’s room then, complete with a paper bag that I guessed held whatever medicine Dr Lancaster had prescribed. She beamed at me, then turned to Persephone and gave an equally warm smile to her.