The Secret Santa Killer by Emmy Ellis

Author:Emmy Ellis [Ellis, Emmy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-11-27T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Five

Just as Bethany was about to drive away from Jake Granger’s, her phone bleeped. She checked her messages. It was Leona with Dolly’s next of kin’s name and address, a Mrs Rebecca Withers, three Hunter’s Croft — very posh.

Leona: ALSO, NOTHING ON CCTV IN THE IMMEDIATE AREA OF MARTHA’S SCENE, BUT I’VE PICKED UP DOLLY’S AND MARTHA’S CARS.

Bethany: I’LL RING YOU, IT’LL BE EASIER.

She did that, Leona picking up quickly. “So what are we working with here?”

“Dolly’s car was captured in the same place twice — once at seven-fifteen in the morning, the other at ten to six in the evening — heading to and from work. There’s a female driver in the a.m., and what appears to be a woman in a Santa suit and beard in the p.m.”

“So she drove to work and back? Why did she get a taxi then? If she was home at the time the taxi was used . . .”

“It wasn’t her in the cab,” Leona finished.

“Shit. We’re going to have to speak to the other employees, but first, we need to visit Dolly’s mother,” Bethany said. “Anything else for me?”

“I rang the bus company. No one was waiting outside Thorpe and Humber, so the driver sailed past. He didn’t see anyone walking either. I’m just about to poke into the employees now — it was easy enough to find them. Shall I also contact the boss?”

“Please. Just get his take on what his staff are like and who maybe has a temper. Fine to say Martha is deceased as her husband knows but hold off on mentioning anything about Dolly.”

“Okay. Bye for now.”

Bethany put her phone in her pocket, punched the address into the sat nav, and set off. She told Mike what Leona had found out. “Sounds to me like someone’s framed Dolly for Martha’s murder, but like we’ve already discussed, Dolly getting killed in the same way doesn’t make sense.”

“It has to be one of the other workers, surely,” Mike said. “Who else could it be?”

“We need to be quick on this. Get Mrs Withers informed, then talk to the staff.”

They arrived five minutes later outside a large home with an immaculate front garden. Hunter’s Croft was for the top five percent, and none of the houses had less than six bedrooms.

“Someone keeps up the landscaping despite the time of year,” Mike said. “Got a few bob, too, by the looks of it. I bet that Mercedes cost a packet.”

“Might be a company car.” Bethany unclipped her seat belt. “Either way, rich or not, this family are about to be destroyed, and we’re the unlucky sods sent with the words that will do it.”

They walked up the pea-gravel drive, and the door opened before they reached it, a blonde woman standing in the frame. She appeared in her late forties, nicely dressed with perfect hair, and came out to meet them halfway.

“Hello there. Rebecca Withers. Are you here to collect the car? Gary said to tell you there’s a dent in the bonnet and it wasn’t him.

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