Free A Murder in Christmas Village (Christmas Village Mysteries Book 0) by Alex Colwell Page B

Didn’t even see her. Not sure I like the idea of this getting on the cover of the village paper though.”
    “Great, just great. I’m ruined,” spat Carlton Moore from the wall behind them. Even his words perspired.
    “It’s not as bad as all that, Mr. Moore,” said Maribel. “The victim was from out of town. Achtungbury, is it not? I’d read an article on the show last summer and seem to recall that. I would wager the killer is no more local than he. Why, this could have happened at any one of their stops. It’s nothing anyone could hold against the village, nor against you and your fine theater.”
    “Thank you, Mrs. Claus. Your words do offer some measure of solace. If you’ll excuse me, I should see if I’m needed elsewhere.”
    “Before you go, Mr. Moore…” She stepped forward slightly, as though to block his path. “I’m curious as to how well you knew the deceased.”
    “I can’t say I knew Wild Willy - I mean Mr. Wilkinson - at all. I met him for the first time just three days ago, prior to their first show with us. I spoke with him once after the show and briefly in passing yesterday. For the most part, I’ve dealt with his business manager, Mr. Dandridge, and his personal assistant, Pinky.”
    “Pinky?” said Maribel, as though she had just heard a new swear word.
    “Yes, and I believe she’s his wife as well. Or widow I suppose is more accurate. A very pleasant woman, actually, in spite of that garish saloon girl get-up. Poor woman is absolutely devastated. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really should check in with the sheriff. He’s locked himself in my office with the villain of this macabre little production and wouldn’t you know that’s where I left my medicine.”
    Maribel pondered if his ‘medicine’ came in a glass bottle. “Yes, of course. Thank you for taking the time and I hope you feel better.”
    Doc Wilcox leaned in closer to Maribel’s ear. “Now that it’s just us, do you mind telling me what you’re doing here?”
    “Am I not welcome?”
    “I’m not saying that, Maribel,” he backpedaled. “You know me better than that. But a murder scene is no place for a…a…”
    “A lady?”
    “Something like that. It’s not a pretty scene in there, I can tell you that.”
    “Well, Doctor Wilcox, you’re right about one thing. I am a lady. I’m a lady who also happens to sit on the Committee of Elders for this village and whose responsibility it is to see to it that all entertainment establishments are up to safety code.”
    The doctor flustered and blustered. “Of course, of course. Please, I meant no offense.”
    “Chivalry is never offensive, Doctor Wilcox, so long as it doesn’t interfere with my duties or my liberties. Now, if you have a moment I’d like for you to join me in speaking with my niece and that deputy. Among the four of us, we should be able to get some answers.”
    “Shouldn’t we wait for the sheriff? I imagine he has the matter well in hand.”
    “I’d wager differently. But if nothing else, we can pass the time while waiting for Sheriff Fell to enlighten us.”
    Maribel walked over to where Angela was standing, a chaffed Doc Wilcox in tow, and was promptly greeted by her niece and introduced to Deputy Brock Bentley: a tall, fair-haired man of an age that suggests he would have been a school mate of Angela’s had he not been born and raised in Glyn Allen, the burg just to the east of Christmas Village.
    “So, what’s been learned so far?” asked Maribel. Angela and Bentley stared at each other, not sure who should start.
    “Okay, I’ll go first,” said Doc, surprising the others who had forgotten he was standing there. “The body had been that of one Willard Wilkinson of Achtungbury. I’ll leave it to the sheriff to get the particulars, but he looked about forty-five to me. I’d say he was six feet long – “
    “You mean tall?” inquired Angela.
    “Not the way I met him. He was murdered in the property room on the second