Mistletoe Murder and Small Town Scoundrels: Katy Cross Murder Mystery, #8

By KC Hart

If Katy Cross can't clear an innocent mother of a crime she didn't commit, Christmas will be canceled for one special little boy.

Skeeterville's annual Christmas in the Park nativity scene is the holiday event of the season, but things turn more murderous than merry when a stranger is found face down in the straw, fatally stabbed with a broken shepherd's staff.
The only evidence points to the victim's battered wife. With nothing else to go on—the sheriff makes the arrest, leaving the woman's little boy homeless—right as the Christmas festivities kick off. Nothing about the dilemma makes sense, and Katy Cross realizes it is up to her to find the real killer before the holiday is completely ruined.

Join Katy, along with her best friend Misty, and husband John, as they attempt to solve this Christmas crime before Skeeterville's favorite celebration is brought to a screeching halt, leaving the town anything but merry and bright. As always, this Christian cozy mystery is free of sex, gore and foul language and full of fun, small town holiday spirit.

• Language: English
• Publisher: KC Hart
• Release date: Nov 4, 2021
• ISBN: 9798223286271

KC Hart

KC Hart is the award-winning author of best-selling Christian cozy mysteries, contemporary inspirational small-town romance, and has also dabbled in historical romance as well. KC is an independent publisher and released her first title, book one of the Katy Cross cozy mystery series, the summer of 2020. KC’s goal is to seamlessly bring entertaining stories full of small-town life to her readers that gently weave in the faith and the love of Christ. KC lives in rural Mississippi with Mr. Wonderful, her husband o forty years. When she is not writing, she is playing her piano or guitar, reading, or spending time with her family, especially the grandkids. You can keep up with KC by joining her monthly newsletter:  http://www.kchartauthor.com/newsletter.html KC is also on Good Reads, Book Bub, Amazon and Facebook: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20570083.K_C_Hart https://www.bookbub.com/profile/kc-hart?list=author_books www.amazon.com/author/kchartauthor https://www.facebook.com/KCWRITESBOOKS

Book preview

Chapter One

I know that’s Mr. Tubby. Drew’s little chin stuck out stubbornly. His bright blue eyes focused on the next child in line as she climbed onto Santa’s knee at the Skeeterville fire station to get her photo taken. I’ll get my picture made with him because he’s my friend, not because he’s Santa Claus. 

You are getting pretty smart in your old age. Katy smiled down at her six-year-old grandson. They both looked over at the wooden bench decorated with red boughs and garland in front of a fake snowy wonderland, complete with Christmas trees and twinkle lights. There was even a twig of mistletoe hanging from an archway behind one of the Christmas trees. Tubby, Katy’s friend and lead guitarist for his band Tubby and the Tubs, lifted the next child in line onto his knee and let out a hardy ho-ho-ho. You have to admit that Mr. Tubby does a pretty good job of playing Santa. He even kind of sounds like him.

They watched as Emma, Tubby’s petite blond wife, decked out in a Santa’s elf outfit, complete with pointy-toed shoes, arranged the little girl’s dress and snapped a picture. The school sold the pictures as a fundraiser for the Skeeterville High School band. Over the past few months, Emma had developed quite a reputation for taking splendid pictures, so the PTO had hired her, along with Tubby, as a Santa and picture taking duo. 

What are you going to ask Santa Tubby to bring you? Katy asked. She smiled as the little girl stretched up and whispered something in Tubby’s ear. Tubby belted out a laugh that didn’t resemble Santa’s famous chortle in any way, shape, or form.

I want a pet chicken and a baby brother. Drew looked up at Katy. I didn’t write it down because it’s only two things, and I can remember them. It shouldn’t be too hard for Santa to get either one. He can get the baby from the hospital and the chicken from the feed and seed store.

Sounds like you have it all worked out, Katy said, raising her eyebrows. I personally don’t understand why you would want either one of those things. You already have a perfectly good little sister, and Sadie Mae is the best dog around. What can a chicken do that your schnauzer can’t do?

Lay eggs.

Oh, well, yeah. 

They stepped up next in line, and Katy unbuckled Suzy Q from the stroller while Drew did his duty and got his picture made with Santa Tubby. Kelly Ann, Katy’s number two daughter and the children’s mother, wanted them to have individual pictures made and also one together. Last year Suzy Q had pitched a fit and refused to sit by herself with the old Santa, so this year Kelly Ann and Katy had come up with a plan. Yesterday, the two women had taken the children out to Tubby’s trailer and made introductions. Suzy Q and Tubby had gotten better acquainted with the hope of pulling off the individual Christmas portraits today. 

Kelly Ann had handed off the grandkids this morning to Katy while she and her husband Barrett took part in the annual Christmas Jingle Run. Kelly Ann explained to Katy that Suzy Q would probably do better with Katy getting the pictures made than with her, because the child would cry for her mother and would not worry about being separated from her grandmother to have the picture made with the semi-stranger. Katy knew a hoodwink when she heard one, but she didn’t mind taking her grandchildren for Santa photos, so she played along. 

How’s the Christmas picture business going? Katy asked Emma, watching as Tubby and Drew carried on an intense conversation. Emma snapped a picture of Drew and Tubby looking at each other, both with serious, business like expressions that Kelly Ann was sure to love. You really have a knack for this photography stuff, Emma.

Mrs. Edna says the turn-out today has been huge. Poor Tubby. Emma snapped another shot. He is sweating like a pig in that suit and some of these kids have sticky hands. One little boy had a wet diaper that got Tubby’s leg damp.

I’ve never thought about that part of being Santa Claus.

We hadn’t either until today, but some kids just want to sit on Santa’s knee and talk to him. They don’t have money for pictures. Honestly, somebody needs to talk to these mommas about how often they should bathe their kids. It kind of breaks my heart how pitiful some of them are. I would make them a photo anyway and give it to them, but Mrs. Edna says we can’t, or the school wouldn’t raise any money.

Emma took Suzy Q from Katy’s arms and stepped over to Santa. Suzy Q’s lips poked out in a stubborn frown as Emma sat the toddler on Santa’s knees, but she did not instantly start wailing, which was promising. Katy watched, impressed with Emma’s idea as she had Drew stand just out of the photo area and hold up a stuffed animal and talk to his sister. Emma snapped several pictures as the little girl laughed at her brother, completely forgetting that Santa was holding her. 

Katy felt someone brush against her leg and looked down as a little boy stepped up next to her in line. I am going to tell Santa what I want, but I can’t get my picture made. Katy looked down at the little boy, probably seven or eight, who had stepped up beside her. Do you think they will let me do that?

I am sure they will. Katy looked around the cavernous garage. The fire chief had moved the two fire trucks that were normally parked there outside to make room for the fundraiser. Are you here by yourself?

No, ma’am. My momma said I could come talk to Santa while she answered her phone. She’s out front.

Katy’s eyes took in the boy’s shaggy brown hair, severely wrinkled t-shirt and shorts, mismatched socks and worn out LSU cap shoved on his head. He looked clean and well fed, but it looked like he had probably dressed himself this morning. Being a working mother, Katy knew what it was like to get to town and notice your kid’s appearance wasn’t exactly ideal. Look, I have an extra five dollars I found in the dryer this morning. Why don’t you let me get your Santa picture made for you? As a Christmas present?

Really? The boy’s eyes lit up with excitement. I could give it to my mom for Christmas. We don’t have any of my pictures anymore. Do you mean it?

I do. Tell me your name and I’ll go pay for it. You can come back by here in a couple of hours and pick it up.

Micah Delu- The boy paused and looked down at the ground. Micah Jones.

Micah Jones? Katy reached down and tousled the little boy’s hair. No middle name?

The boy lifted his head, and a worried smile crept onto his face. No ma’am, just Micah Jones.

You know what? Katy winked at the child. I don’t tell people my middle name either. I don’t like it, so I just tell them my first and last name.

We’re done, Mawmaw, Drew said, walking over to where Katy was standing with the other boy. You need to get Suzy Q.

Yes, sir. Katy looked from her grandson to the other boy. I will tell them your name, Micah. All you have to do is come pick up your picture in a while.

Katy retrieved Suzy Q from Santa’s lap, and they headed over to one of three tables set up by the PTO to pay for the pictures. Edna Morse was not Katy’s favorite person, especially since she blamed Katy for her husband finding out about her infidelity, but the woman knew how to plan an event. Edna’s marital problems not been Katy’s fault at all, but Edna was stubborn. Forgiving and forgetting was not in her nature. Being extremely organized was in her nature; however, and she did a great job of keeping all the PTO fund raisers running smoothly.

Katy paid for her grandkids three pictures before giving the high school senior in a Santa hat and red t-shirt Micah Jones’s name and five dollars for his picture as well. His mother is outside, but I told him to check back in a couple of hours to pick up his photo. 

He needs this stub to get his picture. The girl handed Katy a slip of paper for her photos along with Micah’s. We will have them printed off and ready by three this afternoon. See, it’s written on the bottom of the stub.

Katy took the little pieces of paper and thanked the girl. Drew pushed the empty stroller behind Katy as she stepped back over to the picture area and gave Emma the stub. Will you give this to Micah when he is done with his picture? She looked over at Tubby, who was nodding his head and listening as the little boy talked. He is going to give his mother a Santa picture for Christmas.

I sure will. Emma smiled at Suzy Q, who was calmly blowing spit bubbles while perching on Katy’s hip. You sure were a big girl this morning, Miss Q. I think your momma is going to be tickled pink with the pictures. Y’all grab a Christmas cookie before you leave. Emma glanced back at Tubby. I have to get back to work.

Katy and the grandkids went over to the cookie table and got a homemade sugar cookie made by some of the PTO parents. Katy buckled Suzie Q back in the stroller and they headed back out of the fire station and into the busy street where Santa Shopping Days was going full blast. Did Santa say he would bring you the little brother and the chicken?

He said he would have to check with the hospital, but yesterday they were all out of boy babies. He said I might have to wait until they get a new shipment since I don’t want another girl.

Well, I don’t guess that could be helped, Katy said, biting her lower lip to keep back the grin that threatened to spill over. Tubby probably had to be quick on his feet to do this Santa Claus thing. What about the chicken?

He said that shouldn’t be a problem. He said that if I didn’t find my chicken under the tree, to check at your house because sometimes Christmas chickens jump out of the sleigh at the wrong place because they get so excited, but he would make sure I got one.

Oh, really?

Look, Drew said, pointing into the street, there goes Daddy and Uncle Joe and Mr. Todd. I wonder where Momma and Aunt Eudie are? His arms waved over his head and he jumped up and down, trying to get the men’s attention as they jogged past, drenched in sweat.

I’m sure they are in there somewhere. Katy scanned the stream of runners and spotted Kelly Ann on the other side of the street, several yards behind her husband. There’s your momma. See? She pointed in her direction. And look, there’s Aunt Eudie back there. Katy smiled as Eudie went by at more of a fast walk than a run. Her sister had begged her and Joe to enter the race with them this year, and Eudie had finally given in. Eudie was in great shape, but since she knew there was no way to win the race, she was not the least bit interested in giving it her all. 

Katy’s eyes scanned the crowd. Micah Jones darted out of the fire station and hurried down the sidewalk, disappearing in the red sea of Santa suits. She tugged on the collar of her Santa top, trying to let a little of the cool winter air near her skin. It was in the sixties, which was not unusual for December in south Mississippi, but it made it uncomfortable to wear the extra layers of the Santa costume that were expected on the annual Santa Shopping Days celebration. She had refused to wear the padding around her middle this year, and her beard and hat were stuck in the top of Susie Q’s diaper bag. 

John, Katy’s husband, had refused to even come into town. He had gone out to his brother’s house to fix fence. Last year, wearing a Santa suit and mingling with the crowd of fellow Skeeterville Clauses had almost landed him in the slammer. He would be at the park later to participate in the live nativity scene put on by their church, but he would be wearing a shepherd’s robe, not a Santa suit. 

Katy looked across the street as the crowd of runners thinned to the few, mostly older stragglers who were actually walking the race instead of even attempting to jog, much less run. And don’t forget about all the progress we have made over the past four years in our beautiful little town. Mayor Sanford’s voice rang out as he stood in the back of a shiny red pickup truck decorated with Merry Christmas signs written in red and green magic markers. Intermingled with these posters were pictures of his smiling face on campaign posters with Vote For Sanford, all hanging around the sides of the truck. Red and green garland and colorful strings of lights draped his truck, reminding Katy of a Griswold Christmas scene. We added the new Skeeterville Assisted Living for our beloved elderly population a few years ago, and recently, we’ve renovated the library. Mayor Sanford’s voice boomed out over the bullhorn. And plans for the new wing therapy department at the hospital are under way. Even though the real campaigning for next year’s election would not officially kick off until March, Mayor Sanford never let an opportunity for free publicity pass him by.

Mawmaw, can we go over and get a button and a fan? Drew tugged on Katy’s red velvet pants leg. I can put the button on my jacket.

I’m not sure your momma wants you supporting Mayor Sanford’s re-election endeavors, but come on. I could use the fan. I think I’m going to have to shed this Santa coat.

I am also discussing with the chamber of commerce plans for a summer... The mayor’s voice boomed out to everyone in a five-block area, but most people were chatting, laughing, and walking past, politely ignoring the politician’s campaigning efforts. Katy and the grandkids crossed the street and stepped up to the area where a crowd of more supportive onlookers appeared to be listening to the mayor. The group was starting to thin now that the runners had passed. Katy wondered how effective the mayor’s strategy of giving a speech to this distracted crowd really was.

Hurry, Mawmaw. Drew tugged Katy’s leg again as they stepped up to the group. He’s getting down. I’m not going to get a pin if you don’t hurry.

That was the shortest speech that man has ever made. A rotund Santa with no need for any fake belly stuffing chuckled as Katy and the grandkids weaved closer to the tailgate of the truck. 

The mayor had climbed down by the time they made their way to his makeshift platform. A couple of young Santas who worked for the mayor’s office accommodated Drew by giving him a button and fan for him and his sister.

 Mayor Sanford, are you okay? Your cheeks are a little flushed. A look of concern settled on Katy’s face as the mayor closed the tailgate of his truck and turned around, scanning the ever-moving crowd of Santas and holiday shoppers.

I’m fine, Katy. I think I may have had one too many sweets from the vendors’ booths this morning. Mayor Sanford reached down and distractedly tussled Drew’s hair. If you will excuse me, I need to run across the street and check on something. 

Here, Mawmaw. Drew stuck the cardboard likeness of the mayor stapled to a paint stick in Katy’s face. You can have the fan. Can we go now?

Yes. Katy watched as the mayor made his way across the street. She looked toward the fire station for Micah, but he was nowhere in sight.

Chapter Two

M awmaw, can we go pet the animals? Drew asked, tugging on Katy’s saggy red pant leg. 

Aren’t you hungry? It’s getting close to lunchtime. We are supposed to meet Mrs. Misty and go get a chicken on a stick from the Burger Barn’s booth. 

I’m not hungry. I want to see the donkey and the camel. Drew paused and bit his lower lip as he thought. Mawmaw, aren’t missiles some kind of rocket?

Yes. You know we shoot fireworks on July Fourth and some of the bigger ones are called missiles. Katy’s eyebrows lowered as she looked down at her grandson. Why are you asking?

Well, Santa Tubby said he had some missile toes and was gonna use them later on Mrs. Emma. Is he gonna shoot her with a rocket?

Oh. A grin spread across Katy’s face as she chuckled at Drew’s concerned expression. No. Mistletoe is a little green plant that you see around Christmas. People hold it over the head of the person they love, and that person has to give them a kiss.

I’m not kissing anybody if they put a plant on my head. Drew looked up at Katy, not sure if he believed her explanation. That just sounds dumb. I think you don’t understand what I’m talking about. Can we see the donkey and the camel?

Katy rolled her eyes and dusted off the cookie crumbs clinging to Drew’s cheek. He was probably not hungry. The live nativity did not start until five that afternoon, but the church had the animals secured in a makeshift corral nearby. Different church members took shifts manning the area so the onlookers could pet the sheep, donkey, and of course, the star of the animal show, the spitting camel. I guess so. She sighed. Let me call Mrs. Misty and see if she can meet us there.

Katy texted Misty and scheduled a rendezvous in ten minutes at the nativity stables. Misty’s flower shop looked like a Christmas extravaganza and was a hot spot for the day’s activities. The demand for her