Murder by Christmas (Serenity Bay Mysteries, #4) by J.J. Brass

Author:J.J. Brass
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: small town cozy murder mystery, amateur detective mysteries, woman sleuth, quozy LGBT fiction, hidden secret, unexpected surprise, jealous love hate, winter holiday christmas, snowed in victorian manor house, bisexual main character, whodunit, murder investigation, catching a killer, light whimsical comedy humorous
Publisher: Rainbow Crush
Published: 2023-12-06T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 13

A Christmas Detective

Lucy stared at her phone for a long moment. The cheerful ambiance of the Christmas party downstairs felt like a distant land as she dialed the number she had committed to memory: Detective Johnson's direct line.

After a few rings, a gruff voice answered, "Detective Johnson."

"Uh, Detective?” she stammered. “It's me—Lucy Larkin."

"Miss Larkin?” he asked, his voice changing timbre just slightly.

“Yeah,” she went on. “I hope I didn't wake you. Or worse—I hope I didn't interrupt your Christmas Eve with your family, or with... well, whoever you spend your time with.”

“It's after midnight,” the detective replied. “Technically, it's Christmas Day.”

“Oh, that's right,” Lucy said, feeling increasingly flustered. “In that case, I should wish you a Merry Christmas.”

“The sentiment is returned,” he stoically replied. “But I have a suspicion you didn't call me at this time of night to exchange pleasantries.”

“I'm so sorry!” Lucy cried. “You were sleeping, weren't you? I'm really, really sorry to call you when it's Christmas and you're sleeping.”

“Miss Larkin,” he interrupted her. “I'm a detective. I'm always on call, holiday or not. It is my duty to make myself available to you.”

Lucy's knees weakened, and she very nearly sat down on the bed, before remembering it was already occupied.

“Now, Miss Larkin,” Detective Johnson went on. “Tell me why you've called."

"Okay, yeah,” she began, not knowing how to say the words. “It's about something... not good."

Detective Johnson encouraged her with an amused and yet firm tone. "I gather that, Miss Larkin."

"Right, sorry.” She took a deep breath. “You're not going to believe this, but there's been another murder here in Serenity Bay.”

Lucy expected him to say something pithy, like they do on TV: For a small town, you sure see a lot of murders. Serenity Bay is as bad as Cabot Cove!

Instead, Detective Johnson simply said, “Go on, Miss Larkin. Tell me who has been murdered.”

“A woman,” Lucy responded. “Her name is Mary. I don't know her last name, but she's a makeup artist from the Footlight Festival."

The detective's voice remained steady as he asked, "Did you witness this woman's murder, Miss Larkin?"

"No,” Lucy cried. “No, it was Breanna that found her—found her dead, I mean. Strangled to death." Lucy described the scene she'd walked in on, and the way that Mary had been tied to the bed. “I took lots of pictures of the crime scene for you. I'll text them in just a minute.”

Sternly, Detective Johnson said, “Photographing crime scenes is hardly within your purview as a private citizen, Miss Larkin.”

Lucy felt a tad put in her place. “I was only trying to help. I wanted to preserve evidence of the scene, in case it took you a while to get all the way over here from all the way over there.”

"Where are you, Timbuktu?" the detective asked.

He must have been joking, but she didn't hear him laugh.

"I'm at a Christmas party at Breanna's house," she said. “We're all snowed in, here.”

“When you say we're all snowed in,” the detective questioned, “who, exactly, are you talking about?”

“You mean who is at the party?” Lucy asked.

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