Homicide for the Holidays (Dead and Breakfast Cozy Mysteries Book 3) by Sara Bourgeois

Author:Sara Bourgeois [Bourgeois, Sara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-07-30T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

I strode up to the front desk with a determined set to my shoulders, the planner’s worn leather edges digging into my palm through the fabric of my bag. “I need to speak with Sheriff Bailey. It’s about the Santa Bob case.”

The young deputy manning the intake area glanced up, surprise flickering across his features before he gave a curt nod. “One moment, ma’am.” He disappeared through a door behind the counter, returning shortly after with the grizzled sheriff in tow, a questioning furrow etched between his bushy gray brows.

“Ms. Hartley,” Bailey greeted with a dip of his chin, folding his arms across his barrel chest. “What can I do for you?”

Wasting no time on pleasantries, I reached into my bag and withdrew the burgundy planner, its innocuous appearance belying the explosive revelations contained within. “I have evidence that directly implicates Mayor June Foster in the Santa Bob murder.”

Bailey’s brows hiked upward as I extended the planner toward him. He accepted it gingerly, as if it might combust in his callused hands at any moment. Flipping it open, his frown deepened as he scanned the notations detailing the mayor’s scheduled “arguments” with Santa Bob and the scribbled reference to out-of-town parade contingencies.

“Where did you get this?” His gruff voice was laced with a newfound intensity.

“It was left behind at Peterson’s Bakery,” I explained evenly, pushing aside the faint tendril of guilt over my not-quite-legal acquisition of the incriminating planner. “Those are Mayor Foster’s own handwritten notes documenting her deception about cutting the Christmas Market funds that Santa Bob had requested.”

The sheriff’s jaw tightened as the implication sank in. “So she did lie about that whole budget dispute, after all.” His gaze lifted, piercing me with its sharpened focus. “You think those disagreements over the market funds gave her motive to commit murder?”

A somber nod. “I’m afraid so, Sheriff. If those ‘arguments’ truly did turn as vicious as the mayor’s notes suggest, it’s certainly plausible that in a heated moment, things could have...escalated.”

Bailey exhaled a low grunt, pinching the bridge of his nose as if staving off the beginnings of a headache. For several tense moments, he remained silent, seemingly lost in grim contemplation over the evidence before him.

I waited with bated breath as the sheriff mulled over the damning planner, his weathered features carved into an inscrutable mask of stern contemplation. After what felt like an eternity trapped in that tense silence, he finally met my expectant gaze, letting out a world-weary sigh.

“Look, Emily, I appreciate you bringin’ this to my attention,” he began, his tone tinged with reluctance. “But even with these notes about budget squabbles, I’m just not convinced the mayor had it in her to actually kill Santa Bob over it.”

My shoulders sagged infinitesimally as disappointment gnawed at me. “But, Sheriff, her own writing proves she outright lied about denying him those funds. Who knows how heated things got between them?”

Bailey shook his graying head, brushing aside my protest with a callused hand. “I hear what you’re sayin’, but we’re talkin’ about Mayor June Foster here.

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