Ghosts of Christmas Present: A Marti Mickkleson Holiday Special by Kay Charles

Author:Kay Charles [Charles, Kay]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: One Ghost Another Ghost
Published: 2024-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

At least she could get one thing right. She hoped. The DreamWeaver specialized in one-of-a-kind handmade items. On one of their outings, Marti caught RachelAnne fingering a beautiful cashmere shawl. She’d been surprised her sister didn’t buy it on the spot.

It had crossed her mind that RachelAnne might tell Peter about it, and he would buy it for her. She was relieved but not surprised to find it still in the shop. Peter was the type to give his wife a gift certificate for a free car wash and detailing at the car lot he owned and then be shocked when she wasn’t thrilled about it.

The shawl was expensive. The most Marti’d spent on any gift. She hoped RachelAnne wrapping herself in the luxurious cashmere would smother any thoughts of fiscal irresponsibility that might enter her sister’s mind. The shawl was exquisite.

RachelAnne might see it as some sort of a bribe and hold that against her. Ridiculous. She had to stop being so suspicious and start trusting people.

It would help if other people trusted her. She’d hoped she might hear something useful while in the store. The dozen last-minute shoppers crowding the tiny shop had shut right up as soon as she walked in. Even after months of being on her best behavior, they were all still worried Marti’s Cray-Cray was catching.

Her stumbling across multiple dead bodies in those months probably didn’t help.

“Blue with stars or green with Santas?” The young woman preparing to gift wrap Marti’s purchase at least pretended to sound friendly.

“Let’s go with the Santas.”

“Good choice.”

“I bet you say that to all the shoppers.”

The young woman grinned and leaned over the counter. “I do,” she whispered.

More a teenager than a young woman. Maybe she didn’t know who Marti was. Or her reputation.

“So, bad news about Miss Dexter,” Marti said.

“It’s awful! I don’t know what this town’s coming to, people dropping like flies.” She might look like a teenager, but she sounded like someone five times her age.

“What do you think happened?” Marti said.

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?”

That voice.

“Hello, Ms. Gunderson,” the girl said.

Dawn Pernelli Gunderson. Chief tormenter of Marti’s youth. In their few run-ins since Marti’s return, it was clear Dawn hadn’t changed. Except for the premature crow’s feet around her eyes. And the sun-dried leather of her cheeks. Small but enjoyable developments.

“Dawn. Nice outfit.” Her nemesis was decked out in red and green, all a little too tight and a little too revealing. Business as usual, except for the Santa hat drooping over one eye.

“Angie, have you been introduced to Marti?” Dawn straightened her hat. “She’s sort of a local celebrity. I don’t know why she doesn’t just talk to Miss Dexter and solve this murder herself.”

The girl’s eyes widened. “You’re Marti Mickkleson?”

Nope, Angie hadn’t known who Marti was, but she knew her reputation. Marti kept her attention on Dawn.

“I haven’t seen Miss Dexter,” Marti said. “But I have seen your great-grandmother. She says you’re on Santa’s naughty list and Bob knows.”

Dawn blushed redder than her Santa hat, squeaked, and took off.

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