Christmas Puds & Killers Read online

  The strangest part—even to Sammy—was when she tied a string around the bowl to make a handle. “The traditional way to cook a pudding is by steaming it on the stove. I put a saucer in the bottom of this pan so the pudding won’t touch the bottom, and then I’ll pour in hot water. We’ll turn it on, like this, and cover it. The steam will cook it.”

  Austin watched, mesmerized. “I’ve seen Uncle Mitch put a lasagna in the oven before. I guess he forgot the water.”

  Sammy laughed at his innocence. “Not everything is cooked this way. It’s just the best way for puddings. But I read you can also do it in the oven, in a slow cooker, or in a pressure cooker, but there’s always steam involved.”

  “So there’s lots of different kinds?” he asked, peering through the glass lid on the pot.

  “It seems to be that way. Different fruits, different liquids, different kinds of sugar, and different ways to cook it. And heaven help me, but I want to try them all.” Her first experiment smelled delicious already, and it had barely started cooking.

  “Can I try some?”

  “I’ll be sure to save you one once they’re done. Apparently, the longer they sit the better they taste. This one will need to cook for at least five hours, anyway. Come on, I’ll take you home.” As Sammy drove Austin back to his trailer park down by the river, she felt a warmth in her heart at knowing she had made a special Christmas dish with him. He was such a sweet person, and he deserved all the goodness in the world. She only wished she had remembered the tradition of everyone making a wish as they stirred the pudding. It would be interesting to see just what he would wish for.

  Once he was safely inside, Sammy drove back to the diner to check the water level in the pot. It was fine, but she was going to be up half the night making sure it got done. She set an alarm on her phone to check it again in half an hour and started mixing up the next pudding.

  3

  Merry and Bright

  “That’s the last of it.” Sammy loaded the final pudding into the back of her RAV4. She had done her best to make sure everything was sealed and steady, including the massive cake, but the idea of bringing everything to the other side of town still made her nervous. She adjusted one place before closing the back gate and climbing behind the wheel.

  “Don’t look so nervous,” Helen said from the passenger seat as she buckled her belt. “It’s going to be wonderful.”

  “I hope you’re right. I spent forever on those puddings. They take so long to cook! I tried so many different recipes that I ended up having to label them so I won’t look like an idiot if someone asks me what’s in a certain one. They’re supposed to taste the best when they’ve sat for a while, so at least that means these should be even better than the ones I cut open and tried.”

  “You have nothing to worry about. And I saw that cake you made. The guests are going to go nuts for it. I’ll be interested to see just how much money the raffle brings in.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Sammy and Helen were unloading the giant cake from the car and bringing it in the back door of the Sunny Cove Recreation Center.

  “Oh, right here!” Agnes ushered them into the bar and café area and showed them a table that had been set up exclusively for the cake raffle. The center remained clear for the showpiece, but the rest of it had been covered in garland and holly. A gold raffle drum stood off to the side. “That cake is just exquisite, Sammy! How did you ever get so much detail on it?”

  Sammy was proud of herself as she set the cake down in the designated spot. “A lot of practice and the right tools,” she replied honestly. She had spent plenty of time just designing the cake, deciding on a white frosting with white piping that looked like Christmas lace. She had added edible pearls and fondant holly. A close runner-up for ideas had been to decorate the cake to look like a winter scene, complete with evergreens, snowmen, and skiers, but the holly seemed more tradition and went along with the puddings.

  “It looks as though you ladies have put quite a bit of effort into this event, as well,” Helen said, admiring the candles in the centerpieces, the three-piece band, and the massive Christmas tree. “I feel like I’ve traveled in time.”

  “That was the idea!” Agnes beamed. “We thought it would be nice to bring people out of modern times and remind them what the holidays used to be like. And this place means so much to us, we hope we can make it mean something to everyone else as well.”

  “Why is that, if I may ask?” Sammy had been wondering about this, but she had never found the right time to ask. “I mean, I’m not sure why the Radical Grandmas are so interested in the rec center.”

  “That’s simple,” Agnes replied with a twinkle in her eye. “When I retired, I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. My husband had passed away several years before that, and all my grandkids were grown and doing their own thing. I was just wasting away, when my doctor suggested I come out here and take a water aerobics class. I won’t lie to you; I didn’t want to come at first. But I knew it was best for my health.”

  “And it turns out,” Viola said as she walked up and joined them, “that Agnes wasn’t the only lonely old grandma with nothing to do. The four of us were all in that same class. Soon enough, we started chatting in the locker room. That led to going out for coffee afterwards, and before we knew it we were inseparable. We started working on projects of all sorts, and the Radical Grandmas began.”

  “That’s just marvelous,” Sammy replied honestly, feeling tears burn at the back of her eyes. “True friendships are hard to find, and everyone should be as lucky as the four of you.”

  “That’s exactly why we have to fight to save this old place,” Viola said seriously. “Sure, there are a few young kids who come in on weekends for swimming lessons, but a quick revamp could really pull in a crowd and ensure that the rec center stays open.”

  “I’m sure you’ll achieve your goals tonight,” Helen said, watching the first guests come trickling in the door. “We put up a few flyers in the diner, and I talked to quite a few customers who said they were interested. They’ll be thrilled when they see how lovely it all is.”

  “I’m afraid not everyone is thrilled,” Viola said with a frown as she glanced across the room. “Here comes Maureen, and she looks like she’s on the warpath.”

  She certainly did. In a bright red satin dress with a puffed skirt, she looked like the perfect party hostess. But Maureen’s fists were clenched at her sides, and her jaw was tight as she marched up to the little group. The forced smile on her face didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m trying to understand why all the wait staff are wearing Santa suits,” she grated out. “I don’t remember anyone saying anything about that.”

  “I thought it was a nice touch,” Agnes asserted. “And look, the children are going crazy for them already.” She pointed to a family that had just been seated at a table by the window. Two young boys were clapping and pointing at the waiters as they brought their water glasses.

  “But that’s not what we discussed!” Maureen asserted. “And it doesn’t have the same traditional feel as everything else does!”

  “Maureen, dear, I know you like everything just so, but I assure you it will be fine. Just look at the cake Sammy made. Do you think anyone is even going to look at the wait staff once they see this beauty?” Viola gave an apologetic glance to Agnes while directing Maureen’s attention to the cake.

  And it was pretty enough to make even someone like Maureen stop complaining. “Oh my.” She stepped slowly toward the cake, admiring it. “Oh, that’s just elegant. Sammy, you must truly have the spirit of God in you to be able to create something like that.”

  “That’s got to be the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Sammy replied warmly.

  Maureen turned to Agnes with a smile. “I’m sorry I complained about your idea, honey. I’ve just been so worried about this fundraiser going right. You know how much this place means to us, and I think we just wouldn’t be the same again if we didn’t have it anymore.”r />
  The three women put their arms around each other and their heads together as they walked across the room, where Linda had just come in the door.

  Helen nudged Sammy with her elbow. “Do you see what I see? The raffle drum is already filling up! They’re selling the tickets for five dollars each, so just think of how much money they’re making before this event even gets underway. You’ll be the hero of the day, Sammy!”

  With their job done, Sammy and Helen took their seats. It didn’t take long before the party was in full swing. Every prominent member of the community had arrived, from business owners to politicians to teachers. Sammy was introduced to so many people that she was sure she would never remember their faces or their names. Even so, she realized she had never felt like she was as much of a part of the community as she was now. Everyone seemed to know who she was, by her talent if not her face, and she knew she would need to do some extra baking the next few weeks to keep up with the additional orders that would undoubtedly come rolling in. The mayor said he would talk to his wife about coming in to order a cake like the one on raffle, and several businesswomen had asked for her card. Just Like Grandma’s was going to be flooded with requests for Christmas goodies.

  “I can’t believe this,” Sammy mused to her boss as yet more people came crowding in the door and the waiters brought an additional table out of the back. “I guess the Radical Grandmas aren’t the only ones who want to save the rec center.”

  Towards the end of the evening Helen absently said

  “Mmhmm.” Her neck was straight and her eyes squinted as she looked across the room.

  “What is it?” Sammy had only seen a friendly smile and a relaxed warmth on Helen’s face up until this point, but now she looked downright angry.

  “Do you see that woman over there by the dessert table? The brunette with her hair in a bun and a green dress?”

  Sammy spotted the woman in question easily. She was bending down to examine each pudding individually, her head tipping from side to side. At one point, she even picked up a platter and gave one of the puddings a good sniff. “I can’t tell if she’s excited about the puddings or repulsed by them. I know it’s not a traditional thing around here, so I’m not sure how well they’ll go over. They’ll either ruin my baking business or boost the numbers through the roof. Maybe I should go give her my card.”

  Helen put a staying hand on Sammy’s wrist. “That woman is Carly Anderson, and she owns Carly’s Cupcakes.”

  “Oh.” Sammy had seen the brightly colored sign for the bakery on the other end of town, but she hadn’t thought about it much. She could sense the suspicion in Helen’s voice. “What do you think she’s doing?”

  Her boss leaned close so that nobody would overhear. “Rumor has it that her bakery isn’t doing so hot. Of course, you’re selling out every day, so Carly probably feels like she’s in serious competition with you. She might be sabotaging the puddings.”

  “Surely not!” Sammy was inclined to think the best about people, even those who were in the same market as she was. “Wouldn’t that be a bit obvious?”

  Helen shrugged. “There are a lot of people here, and they’re probably not paying that much attention to her. I’d like to think she’s just interested, but you never know.”

  Sammy fiddled with the silver bracelet she had put on for the occasion, trying to decide what to do. She could introduce herself and pretend as though nothing untoward was happening. Simply being near the puddings would probably drive Carly away if she had any bad intentions, and if not then she would have met someone new. But what if Carly didn’t want to play nice? The last thing Sammy wanted was to create a scene at this fundraiser, since she knew just how important it was to the Grandmas.

  But someone else was making a scene for her. Jamie Stewart came running in the door that led out to the pool, letting it slam shut behind her. She was screaming something unintelligible, clutching her fingers in her curly brown hair. The wait staff stopped and stared, and most of the guests did so as well. It wasn’t until the band stopped playing that Sammy could finally understand what she was saying. “There’s a dead body in the pool!”

  Jamie had been in every play throughout junior high and high school, always snagging the lead role. She had a flare for the dramatic, and Sammy was inclined to think this was just some sort of elaborate prank. But as guests began gathering at the glass door to the pool and someone else started screaming, Sammy knew this was for real. Her curiosity overwhelmed her, and she joined the crowd at the long line of windows on that side of the room.

  The overhead lights in the pool room had been left off for the occasion, leaving the rows of lounge chairs around the outer edge in shadows. But the underwater lights—several of which had gone out—illuminated the warm water of the pool. This made the silhouette of the body in the pool show up in stark relief, but there was no mistaking the red satin dress or the sensible shoes. It was Maureen Bradshaw.

  4

  Goodwill Toward Men

  Sammy walked slowly back to her seat, her heart in her stomach. “It’s Maureen,” she whispered to Helen as she sank into her chair, unable to believe what she had just seen and wishing she hadn’t looked at all. “Maybe we should go.”

  “All right, everyone. Keep it calm, please.” Sheriff Jones appeared seemingly out of nowhere. He had likely been there the entire time, but Sammy had been busy enough meeting new people that she hadn’t noticed him. Dressed in uniform, he spoke quickly and quietly into his radio.

  “I think we’d better stay, at least for the moment,” Helen advised. “I don’t think they really like it when people leave in these situations.”

  Sammy couldn’t argue with that, but it was incredibly uncomfortable to watch as the paramedics, two detectives, and several more police officers filed into the building a few minutes later and headed out to the pool. The overhead lights were turned on, but Sammy kept her gaze on her plate of half-eaten food. “I just can’t believe this. What do you think happened?”

  “I wouldn’t even want to speculate,” Helen replied softly. “But she wasn’t young, and we know she was stressed this afternoon. Maybe she had a heart attack.”

  It was a reasonable conclusion, and one that Sammy could take some small comfort in. If so, then Maureen died doing what she loved. It was still a shame, though. Maureen had been such a lively woman.

  Just then, the sheriff came back into the dining area. “I need to talk to someone who knew Mrs. Bradshaw well. I need to know what she might have been allergic to.”

  Agnes stepped forward timidly, her fingers shaking near her mouth. “Just nuts, officer.”

  “There were nuts in the puddings!” someone shouted from the back of the crowd. “And I saw her eating one!”

  “There were not!” Sammy was on her feet in an instant, hardly even realizing she had said the words. She didn’t know who had claimed there were nuts in the puddings, but it didn’t matter because she knew the truth. The crowd turned as one to look at her, and she felt their gaze just as much as she saw it. She cleared her throat. “I made those myself, and she specifically requested that there be no nuts.”

  Sheriff Jones’ blue eyes were heavy on her then. He spotted her across the room and shook his head. “I’ll need you to stay put for a while, Ms. Baker.”

  Sammy nodded and sat, knowing exactly what the sheriff was thinking. She had been nothing but trouble for him ever since she had come back to Sunny Cove, and tonight wasn’t going to be any different. She sat back down, knowing that she would be questioned about the incident once the police got the scene cleared out a little. “There really weren’t any nuts,” Sammy muttered to Helen. “Almost all the recipes called for them, but I definitely left them out. Some even suggested using ground almonds in place of bread crumbs, and I didn’t do that either. You can check the dumpster for wrappers.”

  Helen’s cool hand stroked her arm. “I know, dear, I know. Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  The police were t
aking down the names of everyone at the party, slowly dismissing them by table. Sammy watched them go, wishing she was one of them. “I’d hate to spend Christmas in jail, especially for something I didn’t do. My father had to spend plenty of holidays that way before they finally set him free.” The news about Maureen had been terrible enough, but it made Sammy sad all over again to think of her father. If he was still alive, maybe the two of them would have been able to spend the holidays together. But she was as alone as she had always been. At least she would have church on Christmas morning, as long as Alfred Jones didn’t insist that she spend it with him in the county jail. She bowed her head and sent up a prayer that true justice would be served.

  She was disturbed by the sound of a chair being pulled out next to her. It was Linda. “Honey, don’t look so glum,” she consoled, her diamond drop earrings glittering. “We know you didn’t do anything wrong.”

  “And we’re the closest thing Maureen has—had—to family around here.” This was Viola, who now sat across from Sammy. “We can stop the police from pursuing this if it becomes an issue.”

  Agnes filled up the last empty chair. “I’m sure they’ll have some other tests to do, but I heard one of the paramedics say her throat was swollen. Maybe there’s something else she was allergic to that we don’t know about.”

  “Or there were nuts in something else, something that came with the dinner, perhaps,” Viola pointed out. “Either way, don’t you worry Sammy. We’re going to help.”

  She was so moved she wanted to cry, and as a tear slipped down her cheek she realized she couldn’t help it. “That’s very sweet of you ladies, but you have a friend to mourn. I’m sure you don’t want to get involved in this.”

  “We do, actually.” Linda set her hands on the table, her rings clinking against it. “We know you didn’t kill Maureen. You’re not that kind of person, and if you were we never would have asked for your help. But we need to figure out what happened to our friend, and if clearing your name helps us with that, then I can’t think of a better way to spend our time.”