Christmas Corpse (Holidays Can Be Murder #4)

By Kelly Hashway

With things finally working out in every aspect of her life, Dr. Sydney Warner thinks she’s in for the best Christmas ever. But when a contestant in a local home decorating contest is found dead on his front lawn during the light display, her holiday season takes a turn for the worse.

Detective Andrew Lange wants Sydney’s help unraveling the clues, especially since the murder weapon is nowhere to be found. This proves to be Sydney’s toughest case yet as the list of suspects keeps piling up, and a case can be made against any one of them. Can she figure out who really killed the town’s reigning Christmas champion, or will this be the case that finally proves too much for even Sydney’s professional abilities?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kelly Hashway
• Release date: Nov 15, 2022
• ISBN: 9781005033811

Kelly Hashway

Kelly Hashway fully admits to being one of the most accident-prone people on the planet, but luckily she gets to write about female sleuths who are much more coordinated than she is. Maybe it was growing up watching Murder, She Wrote that instilled a love of mystery, but she spends her days writing cozy mysteries. Kelly’s also a sucker for first love, which is why she writes romance under the pen name Ashelyn Drake. When she’s not writing, Kelly works as an editor and also as Mom, which she believes is a job title that deserves to be capitalized.

Book preview

Chapter One

What most people don’t realize when they come to see a psychologist like me is that they already know how to help themselves. They hold the answers they need. They just need someone to give them the go ahead to believe in themselves. That’s the case for Billy Danvers, my standing Tuesday morning appointment. Every week, Billy slumps down in the bean bag chair in my office and tells me what’s going on in his life. I mostly listen and ask a few guiding questions to help him come to the realization that he has a solution to whatever is bothering him.

Doc Warner, you seem quiet today, Billy says, picking up his head, which was resting on the back of the bean bag chair.

Well, Billy, that’s because I’m not sure you need my input on this issue.

He sits up slightly, leaning on one elbow so he’s turned to face me. How so?

Billy is a very bright kid. He’s homeschooled after being bullied as a child. Kids can be cruel, and Billy’s emotions made him a target for some rude individuals. But he’s a junior now. His future is right there in front of him, and I suspect he knows exactly what he wants to do with it.

Close your eyes, I tell him.

Billy slumps back, lacing his fingers together behind his head like a makeshift pillow. Once his eyes are closed, he says, Okay. Now what?

Let’s pretend it’s an ideal world, I begin, but I stop when he scoffs.

That’s not easy to do, Doc. He peeks at me through one eye.

Eyes closed, I say and wait for him to comply. We’re pretending. It’s nice to pretend sometimes. I do it almost every night before bed. I pretend I haven’t gotten wrapped up in several murder investigations in this town. I pretend my boyfriend, Nolan Lange, isn’t the brother of Detective Andrew Lange, the man who accused me of murder earlier this year. Now, tell me what you’re doing after you finish high school.

It’s stupid.

Nothing is stupid in your ideal world, Billy.

He sighs. I go to college and study marine biology.

There’s nothing stupid about that. I think it’s a great idea.

He opens his eyes and sits up. You do?

I nod. Billy, there’s no denying you’re intelligent. And we live by the Atlantic Ocean, so marine biology makes perfect sense. Are you thinking of applying to the University of Delaware? I’m sure he’d get in. He’s certainly bright enough.

There’s more, and it’s why my plan won’t work. He places his feet flat on the ground and pulls his knees to his chest. I’m not good with being around people my age. Can you imagine me on a college campus surrounded by coeds? He shakes his head. It will never work. If I’m going to attend college, I should do it online. Pick a different major.

No. You shouldn’t. I put my notebook next to my leg on the chair and sit forward. Billy, I have complete faith in your ability to go to college, attend classes in person, and make friends. You have to give people a chance. Sure, you’re going to encounter some individuals who aren’t worth your time. We all do. But you’re going to make great friends with similar interests, too, and when you do, it’s all going to be worth it.

I don’t know, Doc.

Tell you what. Get an application.

I don’t know if I can bring myself to fill it out.

Don’t worry about that yet. Just get the application. That’s the first step.

He nods and stands up. My time is up.

I look up at the clock. I didn’t even realize. I stand. See; I enjoy talking to you so much I lose track of time. You should let others enjoy your company as well.

You have to listen to me. It’s your job. My parents pay you.

It doesn’t feel like a job. That’s the key. You need to find something you love. If it’s marine biology, don’t let anything stand in the way of that dream.

He bobs his head again. See ya, Doc.

I follow Billy out to the reception area. Lena Stillwater, my receptionist and friend, is packing up for her lunch break.

Sydney— Lena stops when she realizes Billy hasn’t left yet. He’s grabbing his jacket from the hook on the wall by the door. I mean, Dr. Warner, you had a cancellation this afternoon. She hands me a piece of paper.

Thanks, Lena. I check the paper to see my one o’clock won’t be coming in today. I guess this means extra-long lunch breaks for us.

See ya, Doc, Billy says.

Get that application, I call after him as he walks out the door.

Application for what? Lena asks me.

The University of Delaware.

Lena smiles. It’s great that he’s giving college a try. He should. He’s such a smart kid.

I know. I hope he sees it through.

Lena knows better than to ask me what I mean by that. I can’t exactly discuss things my clients tell me in our sessions.

Well, I’m off to lunch.

Enjoy. See you back here at two, I say so she knows I’m serious about taking a long lunch break. There’s no reason to sit in an empty office, and any calls will go to voice mail.

Thanks. She heads out, and I grab my phone from my back pocket. I dial Nolan.

Hey, Syd, he says. I was about to call you to see if you could do lunch at the diner.

I can. In fact, I had a cancellation and don’t need to be back in the office until two.

It must be my lucky day then. Meet you at the diner?

I’m leaving now. I end the call, grab my jacket and purse from my office, and head to the diner.

The place is decked out for Christmas. They have a tree all lit up when you first enter the diner, and then there are colored lights strung along the walls. Every window is lined with garland. And each table has a mini Christmas tree as a centerpiece.

Table for two, please, I tell the hostess.

She brings me over to the booth Nolan and I usually sit in. Coffee for you both? Or can I interest you in some hot chocolate? We even have cinnamon sticks to go in them and tons of mini marshmallows.

Hot chocolate sounds great, I say as I slide into the booth.

As soon as she walks away, Nolan enters the diner. I wave to get his attention.

Hey. He gives me a quick kiss before sitting down across from me. It’s cold out there today.

I remove my jacket, placing it next to me on the seat. I know. I ordered us some hot chocolate.

A waitress walks over with two mugs. Diedre said you were game for some hot cocoa today, she says as she places the mugs on the table.

Yes, thank you. I take my mug and wrap my hands around it to warm my fingers. Any specials today?

Are you interested in breakfast or lunch?

Tell me you have a breakfast sampler platter, Nolan says, practically drooling.

We do, the waitress says, consulting her order pad. It comes with pancakes, waffles, eggs, home fries, and your choice of bacon or sausage.

I’ll take it with bacon, Nolan says, rubbing his hands together.

And for you, Doc?

I’m used to everyone in town calling me that. I’ll have the same but with sausage.

You got it. She turns on her heel and walks off toward the kitchen.

I sip my hot chocolate, which is surprisingly delicious. I probably only drink it once a year, if that, but this is exceptionally tasty. How’s the news world? I ask Nolan.

Pretty quiet. I’m covering a story about the tree lighting, which is really late this year since the Holbrook housing development wanted to combine it with their annual house decorating contest.

Really? I didn’t realize they had that kind of pull to delay a town tree lighting.

Apparently, the same man won for the past four years. No one has ever won five years in a row, and the guy must be a shoo-in because they’re making a pretty big deal about it. The mayor is going to be there and everything.

If it’s such a big deal, why are they holding both of these things on a Tuesday evening instead of a Friday or Saturday night? It seems odd and doesn’t follow typical town protocol for such events.

That’s another thing. It’s the birthday of the guy who is expected to win for the fifth straight year.

Interesting. He sure does seem to have a lot of pull around here. I wonder why.

I haven’t met him yet, but that’s something I plan to find out while I’m covering the story.

I guess this means you’ll be at both events this evening.

I will be. Care to be my date?

I’d love to, I say as the waitress returns with our food.

Nolan smiles from ear to ear. This day keeps getting better and better.

Thanks to his press badge, Nolan and I have spots right up front for the tree lighting ceremony. The mayor talks for a while, and then the massive tree is lit. I have to admit they did a really nice job with it. Sometimes it seems like they just throw the string of lights up at the tree and hope they fall in semi-decent places. But this year, someone carefully arranged every light and ornament. It’s definitely the most impressively decorated tree I’ve witnessed in Swan Creek.

Do you know who is responsible for the decorations this year? I ask Nolan. They’re definitely more impressive than in the past.

I think it was the guy who’s won the house decorating contest the past four years. Um—Nolan pulls a notebook from his jacket pocket—Gordon Price.

The man knows what he’s doing. If this tree is any indication, I’m guessing his house is a work of art. No wonder he’s won so many years in a row.

There’s a line to take your picture in front of the tree, and a band is playing Christmas music to keep everyone in good spirits as they wait.

Syd! calls the familiar voice of my best friend, Autumn Young. She and her husband, Aaron, make their way through the crowd to me.

I’ll be right back, Nolan says. I need to go interview the mayor. He dips his head to Autumn and Aaron before hurrying off.

I didn’t think you came to these things, Autumn says, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets.

"Nolan invited me since he’s covering the story for the Swan Creek Gazette."

Several of the kids from the youth center are here, Aaron says, looking around, trying to spot some.

Autumn and Aaron run the youth center. The kids absolutely adore them. One of my patients is actually from the youth center as well. He started coming to see me after his mother was put in jail for murder almost two months ago.

I’ll keep an eye out for them, I say. Are you both checking out the Holbrook house decorating contest after this?

Yeah, Autumn says. We heard the competition is pretty steep each year. They really go all out.

That’s what I heard, too.

Well, you know what they say, Aaron says. There’s no better way to get in the holiday spirit than by trying to one-up your neighbors.

Autumn and I both laugh.

Autumn stops abruptly and grabs my arm. How are things between Nolan and his brother?

Getting better little by little. Why?

Because Drew is coming this way, she says.

Is Annabelle with him? I ask, not wanting to turn around and alert Drew that we’re talking about him.

Yeah.

Good. Drew is on his best behavior—which isn’t always saying much but it’s still preferable to his usual prickly attitude—when his wife is around.

Detective, Aaron says, and I finally turn around.

Drew bobs his head to us.

Isn’t the tree gorgeous? Annabelle asks.

It is, I say.

Annabelle looks around. Where’s Nolan? I have to ask him something.

He’s speaking with the mayor. He’s covering the event for the Gazette.

Oh, of course. I should have guessed that.

Actually, it doesn’t make sense that she’d guess much about Nolan since he and Drew aren’t exactly close. Drew is about ten years older than Nolan, and their parents created a lot of hostility between the two by favoring Nolan so much. Well, Nolan didn’t show hostility toward Drew. He looked up to his big brother, but Drew has resented Nolan from the start. It’s the classic wanted to be an only child syndrome, complicated by his parents’ favoritism for Nolan. I can’t entirely blame Drew now that I know the circumstances behind his feelings for Nolan. But Nolan is my boyfriend, and I know how much it’s hurt him to grow up without having a big brother to look out for him. The two are just starting to be civil to one another.

Are you going to the Holbrook community to check out the houses? I ask.

Annabelle turns to Drew. I’d love to see that.

Drew can’t say no to his wife. I’m pretty sure she’s the only person on earth that he’s actually allowed himself to care for.

Of course, he says, looking down at his shoes. The man gets uncomfortable so easily around other human beings. He has no difficulty accusing people of crimes, though. Being a police detective really is the perfect job for him.

The crowd begins to disperse. I think everyone is heading to Holbrook now, I say.

We better get in the car line before it gets too long, Autumn tells Aaron.

See you guys later, I call to them with a wave. I try to look around for Nolan, but at five foot four, it’s not easy to see over people’s heads in a crowd. I finally spot him near the podium they set up for the mayor. Enjoy the rest of your evening, I tell Annabelle and Drew as I walk toward Nolan.

The mayor is being ushered into a limousine as I approach.

Hey, sorry that took so long, Nolan says. I saw Drew and Annabelle cornered you over there.

You owe me for that one, I tease, looping my arm through his.

Duly noted.

We walk to Nolan’s car. Trying to get in the car line takes much longer than I anticipated. It’s like the entire population of Swan Creek is here. At the entrance to Holbrook, a police officer motions for Nolan to lower his window.

I recognize Officer Cardell even though he’s wearing a hat pulled down low on his head, probably because it’s colder than usual tonight. There’s even a dusting of snow on the ground. Inside the community, the speed limit is ten miles an hour. No stopping for photos, no getting out of the vehicle. Keep driving until you exit the community. The enthusiasm with which he says it tells me we’re probably the hundredth carload of people he’s given the instructions to.

Will do, Nolan says, raising the window again. I think he still holds a grudge against us.