Free A Puzzle in a Pear Tree by Parnell Hall

boots?” Cora said.
    “You got a problem with that?” Sherry put on her coat, picked up the shopping bag with her clothes.
    Sherry and Cora went out. A teenage boy in parka and wool hat passed them, going up the front steps.
    “Joseph?” Cora asked Sherry.
    “More than likely. I haven’t met them all.”
    “Looks too young to shave.”
    “They have a beard for him.”
    “I doubt it helps.”
    Cora and Sherry walked around to the back of the crèche, which was opposite the county courthouse.
    “This is where we part company,” Sherry said. “Unless you figured out some variation where the great-aunt shows up to toast the Christ Child.”
    “If it’s all the same to you, I think I’ll go back to trying to spot policemen.”
    “Probably a wise move.”
    While Cora continued around the green, Sherry set off through the snow. The trail was easy to follow given the number of actors who had already been over it. As Sherry walked, she glanced at her watch, saw that she was five minutes early. But that couldn’t matter. It was a chilly morning. Becky would be relieved to see her.
    Sherry climbed up on the back of the crèche, tugged off her boots, and put on her sandals. She stowed her clothes on the ledge, checked her watch one last time— five of twelve—before taking it off and dropping it in the bag. She shrugged off her coat, hung it on a nail on the shelf. Then she opened the back door a crack and peered out. There were no cars driving by, no one on foot, no one watching the scene. Time for the switch.
    Sherry stepped out into the stable.
    The Virgin Mary knelt in the hay, her arms cradling the Christ Child. She was leaning against Joseph, who was stoically holding her up, though the young face behind the long hair and beard looked distinctly pained. He’d be happy to stretch a muscle or two while they made the switch.
    Sherry crept out, touched her on the shoulder. “Okay, Becky. I got it.”
    Becky might not have heard her. She didn’t move. Didn’t acknowledge Sherry in any way.
    A car came into view, circling the green.
    Sherry saw it and wanted to make the change before it drew alongside.
    Sherry nudged Becky again, harder.
    She still didn’t respond. Which was odd. It seemed inconceivable that she could have fallen asleep, but she must have. It was hard to tell, as the cowl of her robe had slipped down so Sherry couldn’t see her face.
    Out of the corner of her eye Sherry could see the car coming their way.
    “Becky!” Sherry hissed. With both hands she half lifted, half pulled her from her spot.
    Carl Perkins, his wife, Nancy, and sons Randy and Jed, who had driven all the way from Greenwich to view the Bakerhaven Nativity, got far more than they had bargained for, as not one but two Virgin Marys, apparently vying for supremacy, tugged and pulled at one another, until one of the Virgin Marys spun from the other’s grasp and pitched headlong from the manger, landing in a broken, lifeless heap, while the other Virgin Mary gawked in horror, then fainted dead away.

11
    SHERRY CARTER OPENED HER EYES TO FIND HER AUNT LOOKING down at her.
    “So, you’ve decided to join us,” Cora said.
    “What happened?” Sherry asked.
    “You fainted. From shock. Perfectly normal, under the circumstances.”
    “Is she dead?”
    “I’m afraid so.”
    “What killed her?”
    “I don’t know. And I’m dying to find out. But I had to make sure you’re all right.”
    “Where am I?”
    “Town hall. They would have taken you to the hospital, but the numbnuts doctor said you’re fine.”
    Sherry sat up and discovered she was on a gurney in the town hall meeting room.
    And dressed as the Virgin Mary.
    “Where’s my clothes?”
    “I’m afraid they’re at the crime scene.”
    “Oh.”
    On the other side of the room, Sam Brogan was questioning the actors, who were still in costume. They were all schoolkids, and seemed pretty shaken. Dorrie’s boyfriend, Lance, dressed as Joseph, appeared to be taking it