Free The Case of the Missing Elf: a Melanie Hart Mystery (Melanie Hart Cozy Mysteries Book 2) by Anna Drake

him  to help us solve the murder?”
    “Unfortunately, no. But he thought Agnes would work out as the elf. He sounded a little iffy about her youngest son, but said there was nothing against him yet.” I paused to take a sip of the chocolate. Then, I filled Ginger in on what Porter had said about Scroggins.
    “No kidding?” Ginger asked at the conclusion of my update. “Scroggins wanted to set up a business in the old warehouse?”
    “According to Porter, yes.”
    “Well, first of all, I think it’s too late to launch a successful antiques and craft mall. That’s a bit of a deflated market right now. At least according to the latest business reports.”
    “I doubt Scroggins took the time to study the market. What I’m wondering, though, is where he thought the extra money would come from? I don’t suppose his salary at Santa’s Cabin would provide much in the way of ready cash. Yet Porter insisted money was never a problem.”
    Ginger shook her head. “What Scroggins earned from the cabin would hardly be enough money to buy a decent flat screen TV, let alone a warehouse.”
    “Then what was he counting on to bring in the extra cash?”
    “Blackmail?”
    Dang . Leave it to Ginger to be creative. Blackmail had never entered my mind.
    “That could explain it,” I suppose. “Unless he expected to come into an inheritance.”
    Our eyes grew large. “Wendy?” we said in unison.
    “She’s in perfect health,” I protested.
    “You know that, how?”
    “I saw her Friday night. She was fine.”
    “That doesn’t rule anything out. Lisa Clark’s aunt was fine one day and dead the next.”
    “Yes, but if Scroggins was counting on an inheritance from her, he would have had to have known she was about to die.”
    “Maybe Wendy is sicker than she looks.”
    “I hope not.”
    Ginger’s face softened. “You really like the gal, don’t you?”
    “Yes, she’s just the kind of woman I’d have wanted for a grandmother.”
    “All the more reason you should move into that vacant apartment of hers.”
    “It isn’t vacant. It’s still full of Scroggins’ things and the door to the place is barred with crime scene tape.”
    “That will come down.”
    “Eventually.”
    “Exactly.”
    Drats. Ginger was nothing if not persistent.
     
    ~~~
     
    When I reached home that night, Dad was in his armchair,  the Herald Times gripped tightly in his hands. Taffy lay on Dad’s lap. As I entered the living room, she looked up at me and yawned. That  pretty much summed up Taffy’s reaction to me almost all the time. Her loyalties lay firmly with the man upon whose lap she reclined.
    “Anything worthy in the paper?” I asked.
    “Their story on Scroggins’ murder was decent,” Dad said.
    “I wouldn’t expect it to be otherwise..”
    Dad grunted. “Have you touched base with Gossford recently?”
    “Not since he dropped by the offices yesterday.”
    “Did he give you many details about the killing?”
    “Just that poisoning angle I told you about.”
    Father chuckled. “The Times doesn’t have that little tidbit yet.”
    “No they wouldn’t. Gossford said he wanted to keep that under wraps until it’s confirmed by lab reports. I’ll have to check with him to see if it’s okay to use that information.”
    “Maybe the timing will benefit us, and the report will come in too late to meet the Times’ deadline.”
    “I hope so.”
    Father gave the paper a shake. It was frustrating sometimes, being the little guy on the block. And with only publishing three days a week, the Times often beat us to large stories. We tried to offset that advantage by writing more in depth, personal stories.
    Dad lowered the paper and glanced up at me. “What sent you out on a night like this?”
    “I wanted to check in with Ginger. See if she thought her replacement for Scroggins would work out.”
    “You could have called. There was no need to go over there.”
    “You didn’t see Ginger at the cabin. I wanted to be sure