Tidings of Joy Read online

  Jeremy turned back toward her. "Can you do that for me, Joy?"

  Joy nodded and without a word, spun on her heel and dashed back down the hallway toward the side door.

  Chapter 6

  It wasn't long before the officer, Tom, arrived and Joy explained the situation. Tom sent the other officer with the evidence to the coroner to see if the pipe could possibly be the murder weapon and if there were any finger prints or other info that might help with determining who the culprit was. As she and Mr. Jenkins led Officer Tom toward the conference room, she still carried the pizza box with her. All sense of hunger she’d had almost two hours ago was long gone, and the thought of eating the cold pizza made her a bit nauseous. As the three of them rounded the corner, they found Jeremy and Roger standing outside the conference room door.

  Jeremy turned toward them. "I won't be needing you, after all, Tom. Sean just called me and the alibi checked out. For now, this witness if free to go. But Mr. Fromme, I'm going to have to ask that you don't leave Christmas Thyme for the next few days, so you're available for further questioning if necessary."

  Roger smiled and nodded. "Not a problem." Then he offered Jeremy a hand to shake.

  Jeremy eyed it for a minute and then accepted the man's hand a bit warily. Roger smiled wider and began heading toward the glass doors. Mr. Jenkins called out to him. "Hold on, Mr. Fromme! The press!"

  But it seemed the comic strip artist didn't hear his warning, as Roger pushed open the glass doors and stepped out toward the waiting crowd. Cameras turned on him and microphones pushed toward his face as reporters pelted him with questions. "What happened, Mr. Fromme?" "Is it true that you confessed to the murder of the newspaper editor?" "Can you make a statement?"

  Roger lifted his arms and gestured for the crowd to quiet down. Cameras flashed in his face, but the reporters stilled as the snow continued to lightly fall around them. "I'm not sure who informed you of all this, but it's true. Yes, I confessed to the murder of my beloved editor, Mr. Carter, this morning. However, I only did so because I was trying to save my employer's reputation. I knew that my employer, Mr. Carter, had used his position as a means to extort money from people in bad situations, and it's likely that one of those people took Mr. Carter's life this morning. I only wanted to do what was best for both this newspaper and my long-time editor." He hung his head. "I apologize to both the police and the public for my actions. I should never have lied or acted as a false witness."

  A roar went up from the reporters as he was pelted with more questions which he answered readily.

  Mr. Jenkins whistled low between his teeth. "Looks like Mr. Fromme is going to be on national news for this. Maybe his comics will even get syndicated."

  Officer Tom nodded. "Sure was lucky for him that someone told all those TV reporters that he'd turned himself in."

  "Lucky," Jeremy said with a frown. "I'm not entirely sure luck had anything to do with it."

  Joy's eyes widened as she darted her gaze back toward Roger, who seemed to have just finished his questions and was heading toward the parking lot to one of the cars. For someone who claimed that he'd been trying to help keep Mr. Carter's name clear, Roger sure had told the reporters about that part of the situation right away and without prompting. Why would he do such a thing if he had no intention of doing it before? Maybe it had been his intention all along. Was it possible he'd been the one to call the reporters in the first place? Joy's stomach turned cold. That made perfect sense. They knew too many details about the case. If no one from Jeremy's family had called them to report the incident, then the only person who knew about those details was Roger, himself.

  Suddenly the pizza box that Joy had been holding for the last hour disappeared from her hands. She blinked and looked up into Jeremy's eyes. He smiled down at her. "I don't think that this is going to be much good for lunch any more. How about you join me in going over to my mother's house and we'll see if she can't reheat that stew she was talking about earlier."

  Joy swallowed hard, something fluttering in her stomach. Nerves. "Actually, Merry said it was a roast."

  His smile widened. "Even better. Will you join me?"

  Mr. Jenkins came up to the side of them. "If y'all aren't going to eat that pizza, then, do you mind if I take it from you and heat it up in my microwave?"

  Jeremy offered the box to the older security guard. "Don't mind at all."

  The security guard took the pizza with a wide smile. Officer Tom eyed the box. "Actually, I skipped lunch, too. Would you allow me to bum a piece off of you?"

  "There's more than enough!" Mr. Jenkins said, "I'm happy to share with an officer of the law."

  And together the two of them headed back toward the security desk. Jeremy set a hand on the small of Joy's back and guided her out the door of the building. It amazed her how quickly all of the reporters left the scene. She blinked as the last TV news van pulled out of the parking area and onto the street. The snow had let up a little bit. While there was not much sticking to the ground, the clouds overhead still looked pregnant with precipitation. The twosome looked both ways before crossing the street and heading toward the church parking lot. Nervousness gripped Joy and a quiver started in her stomach. For the first time ever, it was just her and Jeremy. And he had offered for her to go back home with him. For a meal. She couldn't help but feel a bit nervous. She swallowed before asking, "Do you think it will snow some more?"

  He looked up toward the sky as if assessing the possibility through the appearance of the clouds, same as she had. "Seems possible. Probable even."

  She nodded. "I hope it holds off for at least a bit."

  They reached the silver sedan, and Jeremy opened the passenger door for her, lifting a brow. "Why's that?"

  She wrung her hands in front of her, debating whether she should tell him what she was thinking or not. His warm eyes seemed to pierce into her soul. How could she lie to him? Finally, she answered, "I was thinking about making a quick trip to Soda Springs after lunch."

  Chapter 7

  Instead of going by Merry’s house, Joy and Jeremy picked up some burgers at a chain fast food place and drove directly for Soda Springs.

  “So, you heard everything that we said, then?” Jeremy said as he handed her the bag with her hamburger in it.

  She nodded, and then realized that he wasn’t facing her and said, “Yes. I’m sorry I eavesdropped.”

  He huffed a laugh. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected anything less from the Christmas Tymes’ top reporter.”

  Joy had already taken a bite of her burger, and for a moment, she thought she’d choke on it. She chewed quickly and then swallowed. “I wouldn’t say that.”

  “Why wouldn’t you?” he asked as he took a sip from his milkshake. “From what I understand, your stories are on the front page of the Tymes nine times out of ten. At least, that’s what my mother tells me.”

  She took a sip of her diet soda. Had Merry been talking about her to Jeremy? “I guess that might be true, but still...”

  He shrugged. “Don’t play humble. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. If you’re the star reporter, wear the badge proudly. It seems like investigation might be in your blood. You’re the one who wanted to double check this alibi.”

  “Well, partly it’s because of what you said,” Joy said as she chewed the tip of a fry. “You seemed to believe that Roger might have contacted the news stations himself about the story. And it’s awfully convenient that he did it in the short period of time between when he left the scene of the murder and headed for the church. Mr. Jenkins said that he saw him walking over there himself. If Roger contacted the reporters, then it only makes sense that he had this whole thing planned from the beginning.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far, but yes, it seemed to me that he’s the one who tipped off the reporters.” Jeremy took another pull of his milkshake. “However, Sean seemed to think this alibi was tight, albeit a little bit flakey.”

  “Flakey?” Joy asked around another
bite of burger. “How?”

  He eyed her for half a second and the sighed. “I guess you already know everything about this case inside and out. But first, I need to ask you, where were you around 9 a.m. this morning? Just to be sure, since you also know the victim in this case.”

  Joy’s heart dropped toward her stomach. “I was at the cafe. Bethany and whoever else was there would have seen me. I got there right at eight-thirty or a little before. I had breakfast and drank my coffee while waiting for the van to pick us up for church around ten a.m.”

  He nodded. “I didn’t really expect that you were a suspect, but it’s better to ask. Before I give you any more information than I already have.”

  “I understand,” she said and took another bite of her burger even though she’d lost all appetite for it.

  He let out a soft breath and then started, “According to Sean, the alibi seemed to have woken up right when he got there, even though it was nearly twelve-thirty. She was groggy and a bit disoriented. When he asked her what time Mr. Fromme visited with her, she said that she happened to look at the clock right then and it had said nine a.m. on the dot. The two of them had breakfast together and then she got tired and decided to take a nap. She’s an older woman who doesn’t really follow normal sleeping and waking times. She goes to bed at odd hours and works when she’s inspired. She also doesn’t have a television or a phone.”

  “Really? That’s kind of weird,” Joy said as she wrapped up the other half of her burger and put it in the bag. She decided to at least pick at her fries, even though they were a bit soggy.

  “I guess she’s just one of those old school artist types.” Jeremy shrugged. Tilting his cup to suck out the last bit of vanilla milk shake. He shot a glance her way. “If you’re not going to finish that burger, do you mind if I have it? I didn’t think I was that hungry before, but I guess the milkshake woke up my stomach.”

  “Oh!” Joy said as she pulled the wrapped burger out and handed it to him. “I don’t mind if you don’t.”

  He shook his head, unwrapped the burger and bit into it. Heat rushed to her cheeks again. He didn’t mind eating after her? That felt a bit more intimate than she’d felt their relationship had been so far. She swallowed hard. He finished the burger in three large bites and then handed her the wrapper. “Do you mind?”

  “Of course not!” Her voice squealed a bit as she took the trash from him and put it in the bag with what was left of the fries she didn’t finish and put the bag on the floor of his four door sedan. Then she saw the sign that Soda Springs was still nineteen miles away. “It’s almost an hour out this way, isn’t it?”

  “Yeah. Seems a bit far. If the alibi really does pan out, it’s perfect. There’s no doubt that if he was at Marianne’s place at nine he couldn’t possibly have been anywhere near the newspaper office. Just then his phone rang. He picked it up and put it next to his ear. “Yeah.”

  After a moment of silence where he listened to whatever the person on the other end had to say, he said, “Okay. Got it. Let me know if anything else comes up.”

  Then he hung up his phone and let it drop into his lap. “Well, you did the right thing with that pole you found outside the newspaper office. It was the murder weapon. Sean said he already looked into where it came from, and it seems to have come from the construction site next door.”

  Chapter 8

  Joy blinked. “No way.”

  “Right. The culprit... whoever that might be right now... took a pole from the construction site next door. Then he—or she—came in through the side door. The camera there has been faulty for a while, so there’s no picture of who it was that came in at that time of day. Sean checked the footage.”

  “Wow.” Joy’s heart quickened in her chest. “So, whoever it was that did this did it in a premeditated way. They knew that the camera on that side of the building was faulty. They even left the murder weapon just outside the door there.”

  “Precisely.” For a short while they drove until they reached the exit off the highway to Soda Springs. Then Jeremy said, “This is nice. I don’t usually get to talk in detail about cases with anyone like this. It makes me wish that detectives had partners.”

  His words warmed her to the core. Mr. Carter had often been her sounding board when she’d been investigating cases for articles in the paper. Now he was gone. She sniffed. “Thank you.”

  He shrugged as they pulled down a street following the GPS directions on the screen in front of them. Then they parked in front of a little bungalow located between a bank and a beauty supply shop. “That’s strange. This hardly seems like a place for a residence, but most of the business on the street sort of look like houses, too.”

  Joy nodded as he pulled up and parked the car in one of the parking spots in front of the house across the street. When they stepped out, they found that there were a couple of vendors giving out coupons to the businesses nearby, but nothing right in front of the comic strip artist’s house. Slowly, they went up to the door and knocked. It was several seconds before any one answered, and Jeremy knocked again.

  “Who is it?” a voice called from within just before she cracked the door open. The diminutive older woman had her grey hair pulled back from her face with a butterfly hair clip. Small, round spectacles perched on the end of her nose.

  Jeremy pulled out his badge. “I’m a police officer from Christmas Tyme, next county over. I came to follow-up on what the officer questioned you about this morning.”

  “Roger?” she asked as she opened the door wider. “Come on in then—though I don’t know what else you want me to tell you.”

  Joy and Jeremy stepped in through the front door. The clock on the wall chimed that it was two p.m. Jeremy looked up at it while he checked his phone for the time. They both agreed. “Is this the clock you used to confirm what time it was when Mr. Fromme came by?”

  She nodded and stepped over toward the kitchen table, stifling a yawn. “Yes. That’s the one. I don’t know what’s got into me today. I’m just so tired.”

  “Were you sleeping when we got here, Ms. Dalton?” Joy asked.

  The older woman nodded as she covered her mouth for another yawn. “I was. I just haven’t been able to stay awake this morning. I wonder if I’m coming down with something.”

  “Would you like any coffee?” Jeremy asked.

  The woman pursed her lips in a sour expression and shook her head. “Yuck. I never touch the stuff. You know caffeine is a drug nearly as addictive as cocaine. And it tastes terrible no matter what flavors and sugars you try to add to it.”

  Joy lifted a brow. She didn’t know if she’d ever be able to live without her morning brew, but to each their own. Jeremy laughed and nodded. “I hear that. I’m sorry to bug you when you’re not feeling a hundred percent, but could you please go over Mr. Fromme’s visit with you again from this morning? I just want to be sure the uniformed officer got all the facts straight.”

  “Sure, Sure.” Marianne said as she sat down in the chair by the table. Trash littered the top of the counters behind her. It seemed that she’d eaten take-out quite a bit. “I had dinner with Roger last night. He brought by something from that noodle place in the mall. We were discussing the state of comics and also talking about whether we should consider hiring people to help us color in stuff for Sunday papers. My works are syndicated, so Roger was asking me to introduce him to my agent. I must have been feeling a bit under the weather last night, too, since it was only about eight o’clock when I was ready for bed, so Roger said that he’d come back again in the morning around nine with breakfast to talk more if that was okay with me. Of course it was, and he came by, just like he said he would.”

  “So you went right to sleep then?” Jeremy asked, making notes in his handheld spiral note pad. Then he looked up and asked, “Do you often go to sleep at any hour of the day?”

  “I don’t really pay attention to the clock very much. I often forget to eat or go to sleep at specific hours.”


  “Ma!” a voice called as someone opened the front door and came in.

  Jeremy turned toward the voice on alert, his arm pushing back his jacket as he put a hand on his weapon. Joy’s eyes went wide.

  “Back in the kitchen,” Marianne called out, not getting up from her seat.

  Jeremy relaxed and took his hand from his gun. “It’s someone you know then?”

  “My son,” she said just as a thirty-something-year-old man came into the kitchen with a sub sandwich.

  The man’s mouth formed an “o” as his jaw dropped. “What’s going on in here?”

  “The police are here just asking a few questions about one of my friends,” she answered, stifling another yawn.

  “No worries,” Jeremy said. “We got what we needed. Thank you for your time, Ms. Dalton.”

  “Can you let yourself out?” Marianne’s son said as he stepped up toward the counter and started pushing the trash from the counter into the trash bin. “Geez, Ma. Do you ever clean up after yourself?”

  Jeremy approached Joy and put a hand on the small of her back. “Yes, we can let our selves out.”

  “Wait!” Joy said as she turned back toward Marianne. “Do you always leave your front door unlocked? Do family members and friends just come and go as they please?”

  Marianne nodded as she covered her mouth again.

  “I try to tell her it’s not safe to leave her door open like that all the time, but she rarely does what she’s told,” her son said without turning around.

  Joy nodded, and Jeremy thanked Marianne again just before they walked toward the door. Once outside, the cold breeze accosted them. Joy put her arms around herself as she Jeremy guided her back toward the car. But luckily the wind died down almost as fast as it had blustered.