Christmas Spells by Morgana Best

Author:Morgana Best [Best, Morgana]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Best Cosy Books
Published: 2019-12-09T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

“Are you sure this is the right Holly?” Thyme asked as I pulled the car to a stop outside a house.

It wasn’t just any house. “Are you kidding?” I exclaimed. “This is clearly the house of someone who owns a Christmas decoration business.”

“But she didn’t say it was a Christmas business,” Thyme protested.

“Well, do you know anybody else in this town by the name of Holly who owns a business, any business?”

Thyme had to admit that she didn’t.

I shrugged. “We’ll find out soon enough.”

We got out of the car and navigated our way through the ornaments on the front lawn: several giant reindeer made of wire, five large plastic Santas anchored down in case of a strong wind, and millions of blinking lights over every available surface including every plant in the garden.

“You know what this reminds me of?” Thyme asked.

“An enormous electricity bill?” I guessed.

Thyme chuckled. “That old movie, National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation.”

“This house puts the house in National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation to shame,” I said with a laugh.

We walked to the front door. I was wondering where to knock, covered as the door was by brightly decorated Christmas wreaths, when Thyme finally found a spare space and knocked. The door at once opened, revealing a woman dressed as Santa. I figured she could give Camino a run for her money.

“Holly Hollywell?” I asked her.

She nodded. “Is there a problem with your order? You could have emailed me, you know.”

I hurried to reassure her. “No, it’s nothing like that. I’m Amelia and this is my friend, Thyme. We have been tasked with solving the murder of Ignatius Benedict last Christmas.”

Her eyes narrowed and she regarded us shrewdly. “By whom?”

I was hoping she wasn’t going to ask that. “By our Christmas murder club,” I said.

“Yes, every Christmas our murder club meets and we do our best to solve a cold case from a previous Christmas anywhere in the world,” Thyme added.

Holly’s eyes lit up. “Please come in! I was just having some Christmas pudding. Would you like some?”

We both said that we would. She ushered us through her house into her kitchen. Her house was the same as her garden, crammed full of Christmas lights and decorations, as well as boxes. The delightful scent of cinnamon, orange, and mulled wine filled the air.

“Excuse the mess,” Holly said. “People probably think businesses selling Christmas trees and ornaments have a respite this close to Christmas, but that’s not the case. Plenty of people send gifts, even Christmas ornaments, after Christmas Day.”

“Why is that?” I asked her, intrigued.

“Maybe because they’re usually twenty percent off,” she offered with a shrug. “Everything is always cheaper after Christmas, what with all the sales.” She indicated we should sit at her kitchen table over which was a red and green Christmas tablecloth. Five red candles sat in the middle of the table. “Your decorations are beautiful,” I said.

She beamed. “Custard?”

“Not for me, thanks,” I said, but Thyme said she would have some.

The Christmas pudding was delicious, and I said so.

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