Trouble Under the Mistletoe

  Trouble Under the Mistletoe

  A Familiar Legacy Short Mystery

  Rebecca Barrett

  Copyright © 2017 by Rebecca Barrett

  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 Cissy Hartley

  For Janell Campbell, the best sister anyone could hope for.

  Contents

  Trouble Under The Mistletoe

  About the Author

  Trouble Under The Mistletoe

  I RAISE MY head from the countertop where I lie in languid splendor and a post lunch semi-stupor. Who would have thought I’d be spending Christmas Eve at a used car dealership but here I am, patiently waiting for Billie Dean to call it a day and close up shop.

  The jangling of the bell above the door of Bubba Bailey’s Auto Sales draws my attention to the man in military fatigues entering the show room. My whiskers twitch as he zeroes in on first me, then Billie Dean.

  Billie Dean reads to the end of the sentence of the novel, places her finger to mark her spot, and looks up. She stands abruptly and the book slips to the floor.

  “Teddy.” The name is barely a whisper.

  “Billie Dean.” He stops on the other side of the counter. “Merry Christmas.”

  “You’re home.”

  Well, now, what’s this? Who is this fellow that makes Billie Dean breathless? Tammy Lynn left her in my charge and I take my responsibilities quite seriously. I twitch my tail, waiting to see which way the wind blows.

  “So it would seem.” He says

  “How…I didn’t know.”

  He smiles. “I didn’t tell Mom just in case things didn’t work out.”

  Billie Dean takes a breath and releases it on a soft sigh. “She’s happy then.”

  “She will be. I haven’t been home yet.”

  “Oh.”

  The clatter of rapid footfalls on the metal stairs that lead to the upper story gallery and the offices of Bubba Bailey’s Auto Sales draws my attention to Evan Russell, the number one salesman at the dealership.

  “Oh,” Billie Dean says again.

  I look from Billie Dean to the man she calls Teddy, and lastly at Evan. This could prove to be interesting.

  Evan stops in front of Teddy, gives him a quick once over, and extends his hand. “You must be Mr. Higgins. I’m Evan Russell. How can I help you?”

  Teddy shakes hands. “Hello,” he says. “But I’m afraid I’m not Mr. Higgins. I just dropped by to see Billie Dean.”

  I detect a subtle change in Evan’s expression. So Tammy Lynn’s suspicions must be true. Bubba’s number one salesman is interested in Bubba’s daughter and only child.

  Evan indicates Teddy’s uniform with a slight nod of his head. “You active duty?”

  “Not today,” Teddy replies.

  Evan looks from Teddy to Billie Dean, then back again. When no introduction is forthcoming, he gives another nod. “Well, Merry Christmas,” he says as he walks away and climbs back up the stairs. At the landing, he looks down at Billie Dean and Teddy once more before disappearing into his office.

  Into the silence that falls between Billie Dean and Teddy, I rise from my prone position and walk along the counter on velvet paws to investigate the newcomer who renders Billie Dean speechless and Evan pea green.

  Teddy runs his hand along my back. Ohhhh, I do like that.

  “When did you get a cat?” he asks.

  Billie Dean tickles me under the chin. “He belongs to Tammy Lynn.”

  “Your cousin?”

  “My third cousin once removed.”

  “Right.”

  I do believe I detect a note of humor in Teddy’s voice.

  Billie Dean smiles. “She and Aiden have gone to New York on the Jingle Bell Tour.”

  “I won’t ask.”

  “They’re staying through New Year’s Eve.”

  “So you’re cat sitting.”

  Billie Dean laughs. “Not exactly. Let’s just say I feed, groom, and otherwise cater to the wishes of Trouble.”

  “Difficult, is he?”

  “Not difficult, just determined, and he knows his own mind. Among other things.”

  “Sounds like my kind of animal.”

  Another awkward silence makes Billie Dean blush and Teddy look down at his boots before giving her a lopsided smile and saying, “Well, Merry Christmas, Billie Dean.”

  He turns toward the door and she finds her voice. “You’re coming tonight aren’t you? To the Christmas Eve party?”

  He looks back at her. “You want me to come?”

  The color in her cheeks deepens and she nods. “It’ll be nice. Like old times.”

  Teddy watches her a moment. “Sure. If Mom wants to come, we’ll be there. Same time?”

  “Same time, same place. Just like always.”

  The bell over the door jangles again and all eyes turn in that direction. A man enters the showroom and hesitates as he takes in Teddy’s uniform. His gaze darts around the room and he fixes on Billie Dean. “I’m looking for Russell. Spoke to him on the phone earlier.”

  At that moment Evan appears on the landing and starts down the stairs. “Mr. Higgins? About that Mazda you’re interested in, that’s a sweet deal. Only forty-five thousand miles on it and clean as a whistle.” He shakes hands with his customer and gestures with his free hand toward the door leading onto the lot. “Come see for yourself. We’re practically giving it away at this price.”

  It doesn’t take my superior detective skills to recognize Evan for what he is. A snake charmer, that one, working his mark; poor sod doesn’t stand a chance. I’ve no doubt the mileage on the Mazda has been altered and the interior reeks of rosemary. No, not that Rosemary, not the one who fairly swooned at my British accent, not the one whose scent is a tantalizing mix of come hither and… Never mind.

  The odor in the car is more like someone spilled an entire bottle of essence of rosemary on the upholstery. I dare say it was intentional to mask the fact that it belonged to a smoker. I don’t see why Bubba allows Evan such free reign of the business. There’s nothing about him that’s on the square, in my opinion. I wouldn’t put it past him to have his fingers in the till. I’ll have to keep an eye on him. He has his sights set on Billie Dean. It’s a good thing Tammy left me here in Turnout, Mississippi. My skills at detection appear to be needed.

  “Well,” Teddy says. “I’d best get on home before Mom finds out from someone else that I’m in town.”

  “Okay.” Billie Dean worries a stray red curl of hair around her index finger. “Do come tonight, okay?”

  Teddy smiles and with a nod leaves the showroom in the wake of Evan and his mark. I think I’ll just slip past him and out the door to see what the number one sales agent is about. It’s hardly a job for Benedict Cumberbatch but then it never hurts to hone my Sherlockian methods. Besides, it’s at least another two hours until teatime and, like my idol Sherlock, the one thing I can’t stand is boredom. Perhaps there’ll be more of that lovely mincemeat pie at tea. One can only hope.

  Billie Dean slumped into her chair and sighed. Theodore Roosevelt Adamson, of all people. And on Christmas Eve. She frowned and shook her head. No, she would not let her traitorous heart go there.

  Their childhood friendship had been ruined when they allowed it to become something more in their senior year at Turnout High. When she came home after her first semester at the University of Southern Mississippi, she’d been heart broken to learn Teddy had joined the Marines without so much as a
word to her. Her frown deepened. It was true she’d been caught up in campus life and the excitement of being a Dixie Darling. It was true she’d been busy with practice, studies, new friends, and hadn’t returned his calls as often as she should have. It was true she should have paid attention when he didn’t show up to see her on the sidelines at the second home game.

  The bell over the door jangled and she looked up to see her father standing there with Trouble squirming in his arms.

  “Billie Dean,” he released the cat as soon as the door closed behind him, “you need to keep an eye on this dang cat if you’re going to bring him down to the lot. He was getting under Evan’s feet while he was trying to close a deal on that rattle trap Mazda that came in two days ago.”

  “Sorry, Daddy.”

  He cleared his throat. “Was that Teddy I saw crossing over to the drug store?”

  She nodded.

  “Home for Christmas, I guess.”

  She nodded again.

  He came around the counter and kissed her on the forehead. “Well, don’t mind that, darlin’. I don’t expect you’ll see any more of him before he’s off again.”

  Billie Dean hesitated. “Well, maybe I will.” She stood and began tidying up her workspace. “I invited him to the party.”

  “Billie Dean!”

  “Well, Daddy, Teddy and I have been friends forever and he’s home on leave for Christmas. It wouldn’t be right not to include him and his mother.”

  “He’ll just waltz out of town again without a word and you’ll have your heart broken all over again.”

  Billie Dean could feel the flush coloring her face and throat. “That was a silly schoolgirl crush, Daddy. The kind of thing friends fall into when they’re kids. There’s nothing to worry about on that score.”

  “But what about Evan? What will he think about it?”

  “What about him? It’s no business of his.”

  “He’s crazy about you, Billie Dean. And he’s right here, working along side me to build up the business, to make a living in this spot-in-the-road of a town.” He took her hand between his. “Times are tough, darlin’. You know that. The used car business isn’t what it once was. All these internet marketing sites are killing us. But Evan, he’s a salesman. Eleven cars this month alone.” He squeezed her hand. “He’ll take care of you.”

  Billie Dean’s jaw clenched then relaxed. She smiled at her father and swallowed the anger rising in her chest. “I don’t need Evan or anyone else to take care of me, Daddy. I’m perfectly capable of managing on my own and if you’d only let me put my marketing degree to use we wouldn’t be under such a financial strain. You wouldn’t have to sell cars that aren’t up to your standards.”

  “All that stuff costs money. Computers, ads on websites, and god knows what all. We’re already walking a thin line.”

  She adopted a coaxing tone to underscore her next words. “People look up to you, Daddy. They know you’ll deal with them fairly. I don’t think they feel the same about Evan.” She hesitated. “I don’t like that we’re taking in and selling cars that are sketchy and neither do you. Scooter’s a good mechanic but he can only do so much with them. We need to get back to high ground and tough it out. The economy is improving. Things will be better. And in the meantime there are a lot of things I can do that won’t cost much money. Please let me try.”

  The phone rang just as he was about to respond and Billie Dean answered it. She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and said, “It’s Mr. Drexel at the bank.”

  Lines of worry creased her father’s forehead and he nodded as he took the phone. “Go on home and give your mother a hand so she can have a lie down before the party tonight.”

  When she hesitated he gestured with his hand. “Go on, now. I’ll take care of this.”

  She sighed, collected her purse, and the cat and turned to give her father one last look as she headed out the door of Bubba Bailey’s Auto Sales. The tension in his shoulders as he spoke on the phone with his back to her clearly told the tale. It hurt that he didn’t trust her to help them out of this financial slump. She looked over at Evan and his customer as she crossed the car lot to her truck. From what she could tell from their body language, Evan was about to make his twelfth sale of the month. Trouble appeared to share her opinion as he stretched up over her shoulder to watch the interaction between the two men with their heads together.

  The old Ford pick-up sputtered as she turned the ignition then the motor caught. Billie Dean sat for a moment, staring through the windshield at the façade of her father’s business. It was an old building with a lot of glass block and chrome, a neon sign proclaiming Oldsmobile Service. The s in Oldsmobile had died a few years back and now when night descended, the sign simply read Old mobile Service. That, she thought, was pretty much the truth of the situation.

  She put the truck in gear but didn’t release the brake. Crossing the street from the Bank of Turnout was Mr. Drexel, the president. With him was a tall man dressed in what appeared, even from this distance, to be a very expensive suit although the black shirt and lack of tie resulted in a casual attitude.

  The stranger glanced over at Evan and his customer then he bent his head slightly to catch something Mr. Drexel was saying. Her father met them at the door of the showroom and ushered them into the building. Billie Dean sat for a moment longer, torn between what this could mean and the knowledge that her father wanted her out from under foot for this meeting.

  With a sigh, Billie Dean released the brake and turned out of the parking lot of Bubba Bailey’s Auto Sales. On the corner, Mr. Highsmith stood in the window of the drug store watching the activities in the car lot. Directly across the street, Izzy Tizzington stood in front of her Yoga for the Ages’ shop smoking a cigarette. Billie Dean waved but Izzy didn’t appear to notice. Her gaze was fixed on Evan and his customer. Nosey old bat, Billie Dean thought as she accelerated down Main Street toward home.

  Teddy’s mother was thrilled to tears when he walked through the door of Highsmith’s Drug Store. She’d been rearranging the rack of coloring books and crayons a couple of small children had been pawing through. As she continued to hug him in a tight embrace he felt a little flutter of shame. It had been too long since his last trip home.

  Mr. Highsmith stripped off his latex gloves and came from behind the pharmacy counter where he had been counting out pills to pump Teddy’s hand with enthusiasm.

  “By god, this is a nice surprise. June, you listen to me and take the rest of the day off.”

  When Teddy’s mother tried to protest, Mr. Highsmith shook his head and said, “Now, none of that. Get on out of here. We’re closing early today anyway and you need to take Teddy on to the house and get him a hot lunch. I’m just waiting for the Tizzington sisters to come by and pick up their prescriptions then I’m out of here.”

  Teddy hid his grin. What Mr. Highsmith really meant was that the sisters would be by before closing to pick up two substantial jugs of Mellow Valley shiraz, discreetly packaged in brown bags, and waiting behind the pharmacy counter. They pretended to use it only for cooking, and everyone pretended to believe them.

  On the short walk home from the drug store, Teddy listened to his mother chatter about all that had happened in the community in preparation for the holidays. The wonderful hot lunch she insisted on preparing had given them time to catch up on his deployment, tales of life in the desert with sand in everything, including the food, and how he had embarrassed himself with his smattering of German when he did his Christmas shopping on the trip home.

  Now Teddy stood before the bureau mirror in his old room and eyed the tight fit of a sweater he hadn’t worn in nearly five years. It would have to do, he decided. At least the slacks were still a good fit.

  June Adamson stopped in the doorway. “Are you sure this is what you want to do tonight?”

  “You were planning to go, weren’t you?”

  “Yes, but…” She smiled. “I’d rather stay home and have you all to
myself.”

  “I’ve got seven days leave, Mom. We have plenty of time to catch up on things.”

  “Okay.” She hesitated as if she would say something further but instead turned to move on down the hallway.

  “Tell me about Evan Russell.”

  She went still for a moment then looked back at Teddy. “What about him?”

  “Where did he come from?”

  “Texas, I think. Not really sure. He showed up one day early last spring on the Greyhound bus.” She shrugged. “His car broke down and he flagged down the bus out on Hwy. 12.”

  “And he just decided to stay in Turnout, Mississippi?”

  “I suppose. He stayed at the Econo Lodge for a few days, waiting for Scooter to fix his car. Hung around like a stray dog, in and out of the garage the whole while, apparently.”

  “So why does he work for Bubba?”

  “He liked it here I suppose. In fact, not two days after his car was repaired, he sold it to some guy.”

  “And he lives at the Econo Lodge.”

  “Not anymore. I guess Bubba was impressed with his interest in cars and how he sold his piece of junk so quickly and easily. He offered him a job and the Tizzington sisters rented him their garage apartment.”

  “Huh.” Teddy slipped into a sports coat that was too tight across the shoulders. “How does this look?”

  “You look fine. She’ll be impressed.”

  Teddy felt the heat of a blush in his face and neck. His mother could always read him.

  I confess, the Baileys have outdone themselves with their preparations for their annual Christmas party. The old one-and-a-half story house with a deep front porch that wraps halfway around the structure is like a fairyland of enchantment. I love the scent of the pine boughs adorning all the windows and arches of the porch. The only thing better is the aroma of cinnamon emanating from the kitchen.

  Billie Dean has been in a blue funk since leaving the auto sales shop but now, as we step across the threshold of her home, her spirits seem to lift. It would be hard to remain unhappy in such surroundings. The large round table that dominates the square foyer displays a miniature Christmas village complete with fake snow. The chandelier above the table glitters with tinsel and red ribbons. Under the large Christmas tree that fills the corner of the living room is a toy train, chugging along its track. Above the mantle of the fireplace, holly nestles around candles and Christmas stockings hang from brass hooks. It’s all so perfect.