Mayhem in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy, Book 2) by Meg Muldoon

Author:Meg Muldoon [Muldoon, Meg]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Vacant Lot Publishing
Published: 2013-05-06T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 25

I read through the Christmas River in July Play script while I waited for the last round of pies to finish up baking. A stream of sweat trickled down the side of my face.

True to what I had initially thought, the air conditioner repair men were as useless as a bag of hammers. After half an hour of tinkering around, they had informed me that the unit was busted and way past redemption. I would have to buy a new one if I wanted to survive the remainder of this heat wave.

So not only did I have the heat to contend with, I also had this torturous script to read and memorize.

Sarah had really outdone herself this year.

The more I read through it, the more I hated all the characters in it. Even Santa was unlikable. And you know that when you make a fat man who brings toys to underprivileged children unlikeable, there’s no hope for any of the other characters.

But I had to get through memorizing my lines. The play was in less than three days, and even though I was playing the part of Mrs. Claus for reasons other than wanting to show off my acting abilities, I didn’t want to do a total face plant.

“Hey Cinnamon? Can you come out here?” Chrissy’s voice echoed from the dining room.

I got up off the barstool and went through the doors to the front.

I had a visitor.

“I’ve heard so much about your pies, I just couldn’t resist stopping by and trying a slice.”

Stephanie Calder stood there, a pair of large, movie star-style glasses propped atop her flowing mane of red hair. She was wearing a tightfitting t-shirt with a long necklace, and even in such casual attire, she looked striking.

Sheriff Trumbow, who was sitting in a corner booth digging into his usual fattening pecan pie, couldn’t seem to pull his eyes away from her. He had a dazed, smitten look on his face that kind of made my skin crawl.

“Oh,” I croaked. “Well that was nice of you.”

I wiped away a stream of sweat that was running down my temple. It seemed like every time I saw her, I just so happened to be a sweaty mess.

I suddenly noticed the impatient line of people standing behind her, so I signaled her to follow me over to the side of the pastry case.

“It looks like business is pretty good,” she said.

“Yeah,” I said. “It can get busy in here sometimes.”

I wiped my sweaty palms on my apron.

“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “What can I offer you?”

“What would you recommend?” she asked.

“The Moundful Marionberry pie’s always a winner this time of year,” I said. “The Marionberry is a specialty of Oregon. It only grows here.”

Internally, I was shaking my head at my poor attempts at small talk.

“Sounds great,” she said. “I’ll take it.”

I reached under the heated pastry case for the pie tin. I placed a big slice on a plate along with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream.

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