Crime Never Takes A Holiday

By Maggie Lynch, Paty Jager, Melissa Yuan-Innes and 7 more

A cornucopia of ten cozy mystery stories that are perpetrated during holidays from New Years to Christmas. This collection explores unexplained disturbances, college pranks gone wrong, and almost always one or more murders around a holiday. Solve these spooky crimes that lurk beneath celebratory parties and help search for the murderers. Kick off your shoes, grab a warm drink and snuggle into a blanket before you get lured onto the sparkling snow for the next crime spree.

 

A Body on the 13th Floor by Paty Jager

Dead Ladies Don't Dance by Robin Weaver

Took Nothing Left Nothing by Pamela Cowan

Busted for Bones by Dari LaRoche

Love and the Yuletide Firebug by Kathy Coatney

Starry Night Murder by Mary Vine

The Twelfth Night Murder by Ann Chaney

Blue Christmas by Melissa Yi

Two Turtle Doves by Maggie Lynch

Five Golden Rings by Kimila Kay

• Language: English
• Publisher: Windtree Press
• Release date: Oct 19, 2022
• ISBN: 9781957638393

Book preview

Crime Never Takes A Holiday

Copyright © 2022 by Windtree Press

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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PUBLISHED BY

WINDTREE PRESS

Corvallis, Oregon, United States of America

In the anthology, Crime Never Takes A Holiday

October 2022

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CRIME NEVER TAKES A HOLIDAY / Windtree Press Anthology.

Ebook ISBN: 978-1-957638-38-6

Paperback ISBN: 978-1-957638-39-3

CRIME NEVER TAKES A HOLIDAY

A MURDER MYSTERY ANTHOLOGY

PATY JAGER ROBIN WEAVER PAMELA COWAN DARI LAROCHE KATHY COATNEY MARY VINECORE ANN CHANEY MELISSA YI MAGGIE LYNCH KIMILA KAY

Windtree Press

CONTENTS

Foreword

A Body on the 13th Floor

Paty Jager

Author Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

About the Author

Dead Ladies Don’t Dance

Robin Weaver

Author Note

Dead Ladies Don’t Dance

About the Author

Took Nothing Left Nothing

Pamela Cowan

Author Note

Took Nothing Left Nothing

About the Author

Busted for Bones

Dari LaRoche

Author Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Epilogue

About the Author

Love and the Yuletide Firebug

Kathy Coatney

Author Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

About the Author

Starry Night Murder

Mary Vinecore

Author’s Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

About the Author

A Twelfth Night Murder

Ann Chaney

Author Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

About the Author

Blue Christmas

Melissa Yi

Author’s Note

Blue Christmas

About the Author

Two Turtle Doves

Maggie Lynch

Author Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

About the Author

Five Golden Rings

Kimila Kay

Author Note

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

About the Author

FOREWORD

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When Paty Jager suggested this mystery anthology reflecting different holidays, I was thrilled. Readers love mysteries—whether they are humorous capers, small-town cozies, urban thrillers, or something that crosses genre boundaries. More than that, readers love any story that is connected with a holiday. This group of stories will both delight you with the holiday connection, while also presenting you with interesting characters for you to root for and help them solve the mystery before more crime occurs.

The call to authors was issued in the Spring. The only rule was the crime had to revolve around a holiday.  We had no idea which holidays our authors would choose. It’s not surprising that the majority of stories are placed around Christmas or Hannukah. However, we were also pleased to see stories for New Years, Valentine’s Day, Halloween, and a summer Retirement Party .

Our Lead authors are two of our most prolific mystery authors, Paty Jager and Melissa Yi. Both have several mystery series and both have gained acclaim for their novels. In addition, Pamela Cowan, Mary Vine, Kamila Kay, and Robin Weaver all write a combination of mystery and suspense/thriller novels. The remaining five authors in this anthology are debuting their first official mystery story. Though all the authors collected here have novels that have a suspense element. So, no one was completely out of their comfort zone.

The stories are presented in calendar year order beginning with New Year’s and ending with Christmas.

The anthology begins with A Body on the 13 th Floor by Paty Jager. Dela Avaro, head of security for the Spotted Pony Casino, has a dead body in an elevator on New Year’s Eve. The unfortunate soul was stuck between the 12 th and 14 th floors when he met his demise.

A Valentine’s Day mystery comes in on the heels of three widow’s suspicious deaths in a senior retirement community in Dead Ladies Don’t Dance by Robin Weaver. A group of residents start looking for clues as to why three women have died in only a few months. Convinced they’ve discovered a potential motive, the leader of the group—a former police officer—identifies who he fears the next resident to die may be.

Not a national holiday, but one that every long-time worker celebrates is their retirement. In Pamela Cowan’s story, Took Nothing Left Nothing, the medical examiner is retiring after 25 years. The only problem is there is a serial killer on the loose. Carolyn can’t help herself wanting to help solve this one last puzzle. But can she stay on the sidelines?

Of course, no holiday mystery anthology is complete without at least one Halloween story. Fortunately, Dari LaRoche penned a fun college prank gone awry with her title, Busted for Bones. No dead bodies, but definitely some boys in trouble with their Halloween antics.

Six Christmas mysteries end this collection. Each story has a very different take on the crimes and the perpetrators at work during the winter holiday season.

Kathy Coatney’s story, Love and the Yuletide Firebug, finds fly fishing guide, Ingie Pulaski, teaming with local arson investigator, Ian Callahan, and her uncle’s group of amateur sleuths to find the Yuletide Firebug. With the holidays fast approaching, arson has turned to murder, and everyone is searching for the killer.

Starry Night Murder by Mary Vine begins with Myka Woods photographing a comet in the night sky. A gunshot echoed in the dark, and someone ran down the alleyway behind her house. Soon her home is ransacked, and a camera is missing. Then a body is discovered in her neighborhood. Throw in an acerbic investigator and the possibility of police corruption, and there is a lot more going on here than coincidence.

The next story takes us back to the early 1800s in Ann Chaney’s addition to her Lords of Whitehall spy series. In A Twelfth Night Murder: Who killed Lord Reggie? codebreaker Fitz joins forces with agent of the Crown, Lizzie, to uncover Lord Reggie’s killer.

Returning to the present, Melissa Yi offers another Hope Sze Medical Mystery. In Blue Christmas, Dr. Hope Sze attends a Christmas party with her new colleagues from the research lab, only to encounter attempted murder at the dinner table.

From Ottawa, the capital of Canada, the next story is in Westfir, Oregon a very small town of only 250 residents. Two Turtle Doves by Maggie Lynch, finds young Tiana in the middle of a murder the day before she is introducing her fiancé to her parents. The trouble is that it appears she may have been the murderer. She must stay clear of the police until she can determine what really happened and clear her name.

Kamila Kay has the honor of closing out the anthology with her usual dark mystery/thriller vibe in Five Golden Rings. The sheriff has recently become the new owner of the Redneck Ranch and hasn’t had much time to get the ranch in order or learn about all the fun animals. He’s too busy keeping the townsfolk safe from a serial killer.

This volume of ten stories will make you laugh, cry, and sometimes wonder how the author came up with the idea for this story. I guarantee that whatever bad deeds are done, justice is always brought in the end. Please enjoy each one of these stories, and I hope you will also reach about the authors and other works they have available here at Windtree Press.

Enjoy!

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Maggie Lynch, CEO, Windtree Press

Cover Image A Body on the 13th Floor

A BODY ON THE 13TH FLOOR

PATY JAGER

AUTHOR NOTE

Dela Alvaro, head of security for the Spotted Pony Casino, has a dead body in an elevator on New Year’s Eve. The unfortunate soul was stuck between the 12 th and 14 th floors when he met his demise. 

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This short story pulls together most of the cast of my Spotted Pony Casino Mysteries series. Dela has also been a secondary character in my Gabriel Hawke novels set in Wallowa County, Oregon. Hawke is an Oregon State Trooper in the Fish and Wildlife Division. His need to always find the reason behind tracks or murders makes him an excellent crime solver.

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Along with these two mystery series, I also have the Shandra Higheagle mysteries set in a fictional ski resort in Idaho. Shandra is a Native American potter who’s deceased Nez Perce grandmother comes to her in dreams, giving her clues to help solve the murders.

CHAPTER ONE

The mechanism finally moaned and began its descent. Dela Alvaro, head of security for the Spotted Pony Casino on the Confederated Tribes of the Umatilla Reservation in NE Oregon, stood on the twelfth floor waiting for the elevator that had been stuck between floors for over an hour.

When security received a call the elevator was stuck, they’d tried to contact any occupants who might have been in the apparatus, but no one answered the emergency call box. Maintenance worked to get the car, which had stopped between the twelfth and fourteenth floors, to move.

The elevator finally dinged and the doors swished open.

Dela had expected a distraught hotel guest. What she witnessed was worse. She grabbed the mic clipped to her shirt. Hold the elevator on twelve. It’s not to be used. Margie, call the tribal police. We have a body.

A middle-aged man with a hairpiece that had shifted over one ear stared at her unseeing. His open mouth held vomit that dripped down his chin and shirt. By the looks of his gray skin and beachball belly, she had a feeling it would be signed off as a heart attack. Possibly brought on by the elevator being stuck between floors. Or the fact that it was stuck halfway between twelve and fourteen making it the thirteenth floor. A number feared by most hardcore gamblers.

Do we need to call the feds? Margie asked in her earbud.

We’ll let tribal make that call. While she didn’t mind dealing with Special Agent Quinn Pierce, she doubted the FBI would want to be called to the casino for what appeared to be a heart attack.

A middle-aged couple ambled down the hall toward the elevators.

Is something wrong with the elevators? We need to get back to the New Year’s party, the man said, his face appeared flushed from too much alcohol.

Dela stepped in front of the open door. Use the other elevator, please.

The door to this one is open and ready, the man said, slurring his words.

The woman gasped and grabbed the man’s arm. We’ll take the other one. She pulled the man over to the other elevator and pushed the down button.

Enjoy the New Year’s festivities, Dela said before speaking into her mic. I need assistance and a sheet, please.

On my way, Ross, one of her security guards, responded.

Dela, I found out what caused the elevator to stop between floors, Wayne, from the maintenance crew, said in her earbud.

Was it wear and tear? Dela asked, wondering if the man in the elevator was here with anyone.

No. Someone messed with it.

The sound of the service elevator down the hall caught her attention. Ross, a beefy Umatilla member in his forties, strode down the hall toward her carrying a sheet.

Thanks. Dela grabbed the sheet and unfurled it over the body. No sense in having other guests witness the state the man was in. She’d seen worse in the Army and could tolerate most atrocities she saw. But she knew there were many civilians who couldn’t stomach looking at death.

She’d been one of the lucky ones in Iraq. She’d only come home missing her lower right leg. Many came home in caskets.

Do you think the stuck elevator scared him? Ross asked.

Not sure if we’ll ever know. Wayne says it was orchestrated to stop where it did. Dela leaned her back against the wall, relieving some of the weight on her prosthesis. It was nearing midnight when the people at the casino who came here to welcome the new year would get rowdier. She’d been at work since noon. First, there’d been a mix-up in the schedule, and then the board of trustees wanted her to attend a meeting and give a report on the security issues at the casino. Kenny, her second in charge, had called in sick. Which meant she wouldn’t get to go home until the gaming tables closed down and the last of the partiers went to bed.

The doors to the service elevator rumbled open down the hall. Heath Seaver, the tribal police MDI—Medicolegal Death Investigator—strode toward them. Heard you have a body. Not a good way to start the new year.

Dela pointed to the sheet-covered man in the elevator. The elevator was stuck between floors. When it came loose this is what I found.

Heath pulled off the sheet and sat back on his heels, studying the body and taking photos. I don’t see a medical bracelet. He put the camera down and dug in the man’s pockets. Heath handed Dela the man’s wallet. See if anyone is here with him.

Dela read the name on the driver’s license, Archie Baldwin, and handed the wallet to Ross. Take this to registration and see if anyone else is staying with him and which room he’s in.

When Ross strode down the hall to the service elevator, she knelt on the floor inside the conveyance holding the body to get a closer look at what Heath collected for evidence.

Do you think this is a natural death? She studied the man’s lips. Are lips on a heart attack victim usually blue?

They can be depending on the lack of oxygen before their heart gives out. He swabbed the vomit, waved the swab to dry the substance, and put it in a small paper evidence bag. It doesn’t look like a classic heart attack, but every body functions differently and therefore responds differently. Heath raised the man’s sleeves and pant legs.

What are you looking for? Dela asked, using the handrail in the elevator to help her rise from her knees to her feet.

Either needle marks or insect bites that might have caused a reaction. Heath stood as a gurney rolled down the hallway from the service elevator. An autopsy will be run on him to make sure he had heart problems. If he did, the casino could be in for a lawsuit. His getting stuck in the elevator could have caused the MI. Heath glanced at her and must have seen a puzzled expression on her face. Myocardial infarction.

Dela nodded and stepped back as Heath and the ambulance driver put the body in a long black bag and placed it on the gurney. The middle of the night wasn’t the time to call the head of the board of trustees, but Bernie Moon would be pissed if he woke up in the morning and the local papers had a story about a man dying of a heart attack stuck between floors at the casino.

Putting off the call until she knew more, Dela called maintenance to come up to the twelfth floor and clean the elevator. The ambulance attendant left with the body, using the service elevator.

Waiting for someone from maintenance to arrive, Dela continued to direct people to use the other elevator as Heath took fingerprints and more photos.

Once Gail arrived with a cleaning cart and Heath finished gathering evidence, Dela and Heath walked to the service elevator. They rode it down to the first floor in companionable silence. After all, they’d been living together for almost a year now. When Heath, her high school boyfriend, returned to the rez, she’d been excited to have a friend who knew all her fears and dreams. When she was accused of murder, Heath believed she was innocent and helped her prove it. His belief in her had deepened their relationship.

The elevator whooshed to a stop and the doors opened, Dela and Heath stepped out into the bowels of the casino. The whirl of washing machines, the astringent whiff of bleach, banging from the maintenance room, and murmuring of people on break in the break room filled the stagnant air. Heath strode down the hall to the security office.

Dela watched his long, lean body stride down the hall, his braided dark hair swished across the middle of his back until he was out of sight. She followed the corridor to the registration desk. Pushing the door open, Dela startled the young woman typing on the keyboard.

Ross stood watching the woman.

Dela joined them. Any luck?

The woman, Talia, her name tag stated, shook her head. I can’t find Archie Baldwin anywhere in the guest register.

Then what was he doing in the elevator if he didn’t even have a room here? Dela held out her hand to Ross.

He placed the wallet in it.

Make a copy of this, Dela said, handing the driver’s license to Talia.

The woman ran the license through the copy machine and handed the license and photocopy back to her.

Thank you. I’ll get the wallet to Heath, then go to surveillance and see if we can pick Mr. Baldwin up on a camera and figure out if he was here with anyone. She opened the door behind the registration desk and headed to security and the back door where all supplies entered and people other than the casino patrons entered and left.

Opening the back door, she spotted Heath lowering into his tribal patrol car. Dela waved her hand holding the wallet.

Heath exited his vehicle and strode over. I forgot you had that.

She handed Heath the wallet. I need you to run this guy. He wasn’t staying at the hotel. I’m going to watch surveillance video and see if I can track who was with him.

If I can’t come up with anything, I’ll send it to the FBI. I’m sure Quinn will be able to discover more about him. Heath studied her and said, I put Mugshot outside with Jethro when I left. Hopefully, they won’t get into too much trouble.

Thanks. She glanced at her watch. I have another three hours here, at least. How much trouble could a dog and donkey get into in that much time?

You know those two.

She did. They had managed to open the gate between the field and the backyard last week and she’d found donkey droppings on one of the patio chairs.

I’ll let you know what I’ve found out when you wake up. Heath winked and walked back to his patrol car.

Dela watched him walk away. She was glad he’d moved back to the rez. But even happier he’d pushed to move in with her. With him helping take care of her three-legged dog, Mugshot, and Jethro the donkey, not to mention helping her with things she couldn’t do because of her missing lower limb, she could live an easier life. What she had to decide was if she wanted to keep this relationship as it was, two roommates with benefits, or take it to where her mom wanted it. Husband and wife.

She shook her head. The trauma of losing her leg and feeling like she could never have a normal life was keeping her from committing to anyone at the moment. That and not really knowing who she was. Recently she’d run across a photo in Grandfather Thunder’s house that looked a lot like her.

After years of believing her father had died before she was born and his name was Cisco Alvaro, Dela now wondered if her mom had told her the truth. When Grandfather Thunder found her with the hidden photo that had a close resemblance to her, he told Dela if she continued to dig into her father, it would only hurt her mother. That and the fact she’d been busy trying to keep her butt out of jail for murder had stopped her from pursuing the photo. But after Detective Jones tossed the mugshot at her and said meet your father, she was torn between protecting her mom and finding out who she really was.

CHAPTER TWO

In the Surveillance room, Dela showed the photocopy of the driver’s license to the four surveillance members on duty. Does anyone remember seeing this man?

Is he the guy that was stuck in the elevator? Lionel asked.

Yes. He wasn’t registered at the hotel. We’re trying to figure out if he was here with anyone. She walked back to Lionel, showing him the photocopy.

He kind of looks like a man I saw coming out of Sunrise earlier this evening. Lionel rubbed his chin. Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s where I saw him.

That’s a starting point. Was he with anyone?

Yes. A woman had her arm wrapped in his.

Thank you. As she headed to the door of the head of surveillance, she had another thought. Arthur, the night valet, remembered every person he saw. She’d get Marty or Farley, his assistant, to start looking for the man on video and she’d go have a talk with Arthur.

She stepped inside Marty’s office and the buttery smell of fresh-popped popcorn made her mouth water. Watching movies and eating popcorn again? she asked, as her friend spun his chair, a bag of microwave popcorn in one hand.

I heard what happened. Do you know what room he was staying in? Marty spun back to his keyboard and bank of three monitors.

He wasn’t a guest. She handed Marty the photocopy of the driver’s license. Here’s a photo and Lionel thinks he saw him coming out of Sunrise Buffet earlier in the evening with a woman. I’d like any video of the two together. We need to find out who she is.

I’ll get on it.

I need a copy of the photo. I’m going to have a chat with Arthur. He would know if the man came in alone or picked the woman up. Dela waited as Marty scanned the image into his computer and handed her back the paper.

Thanks. We need to discover what happened and why he was in the elevator. She walked over to the door.

You’re limping. This could wait until morning. Marty was one of the few employees at the casino who had witnessed her in tears over the pain in her leg when she first started working twelve and fourteen-hour days.

I’ll go home once we figure out who he was with. Dela slowed her gait to control her limp as she walked through the surveillance room. She didn’t want word getting back to the board that she couldn’t handle her job. While it wasn’t the law enforcement job she’d hoped for before the IED ripped her lower leg off, it was one she enjoyed, even with the long days.

She took her time crossing the casino floor to the front doors of the establishment. The groups of people around the slot carousels had thinned as they packed the bar and grill toasting the new year.

Arthur, a sixty-something Umatilla man, sat on his stool where he could watch people inside and outside the casino.

His long gray braids hung down the front of his western-cut shirt. He had the mind of a computer. He never forgot a face and cataloged everyone who came through the door.

Dela, you have another problem to solve, he said, grabbing an empty slot machine chair and dragging it over for her to sit on.

Thanks. Yes, I do. She handed him the photo of the man. Do you remember when he arrived and if he was with anyone?

Arthur studied the photo. He came before I was on duty. But I remember seeing him walking around. Mostly alone, then with a woman maybe ten years younger than him. She had brown hair but it didn’t look real. The man chuckled and added, Neither was his hair, so I thought they made a fine pair.

Dela smiled and nodded. This man was one of the reasons she loved her job. He could find humor in all things and had a keen interest in life. Did you happen to see if they both went over to the elevator?

He shook his head. I didn’t see either of them go in that direction. I believe they headed to the Pony around nine. Yes… I saw them go in there right before I went out to park a car.

That will help us a lot. Thank you, Arthur. Dela slipped off her chair, crossed back over to the east wall, and tapped her security pass against the reader. The wall moved, allowing her entrance. The door swished behind her.

Learn anymore? Lionel asked.

Getting closer. She walked slowly through the room and sat in the chair to the right of Marty.

What did Arthur have to say? Marty asked, not looking up from tapping keys.

The deceased and a woman went into the Pony around nine. She leaned back in the chair, propped her prosthesis on the box Marty left there for her, and closed her eyes, listening to the ticking of the keyboard.

There they are in the Pony. I also have a video of them in the Sunrise.

Dela opened her eyes. The inside of the Pony Bar and Grill was on the monitor in front of her. Archie Baldwin sat at a table with a woman in a 60s brunette bouffant