6

“Don’t open the box!”

Jules jerked back from the gift, hands flying up into the air like I’d told him to “freeze.”

I was panting, hands planted on my knees, head bobbing in time with my gasps. Behind me, Cassie entered the store, barely winded.

Jules took a breath, eyes wide. “What? Why?”

I didn’t answer right away. My eyes were riveted to the gift sitting on the counter. It looked exactly like the one Andrew Carver had received; the same blue paper, the same box size. Now, Andrew was dead. Had Jules been within seconds of joining him?

“Krissy?” Jules looked from me to Cassie, who shrugged. “What’s going on?”

My heartbeat slowed and I was beginning to feel a little lightheaded. If there’d been a chair nearby, I would have dropped into it. Instead, I leaned on the counter, which put me a lot closer to the gift than I’d like.

“It might be nothing,” I said. My breathing was controlled, slow. I wasn’t going to panic. I refused. “But the man who was murdered last night had a gift just like this one show up on his doorstep.” I tapped the box with a fingernail. It didn’t explode or rattle or make any other alarming noises. Yet.

“I don’t understand.” Jules frowned. “Am I in danger?”

“I honestly don’t know.” I straightened and stepped back. If the box did blow up, I didn’t want to be too close to it.

The other box didn’t explode, I reminded myself. But Andrew had ended up dead after opening it. I didn’t know if it was poisonous somehow, or had a knife rigged inside that would stab upward the moment the box was opened.

Or I could be overthinking things and it was all just a coincidence.

But right then, I’d much rather be wrong and safe than be right about it and have Jules get hurt because I didn’t say anything.

Or worse, dead.

“Call the police,” I said. “I don’t think you should open it, not without supervision.” And maybe a bomb squad. Or drug sniffing dogs.

Jules paled and nodded as he picked up his cell. “I’ll go to the back. I think I need a moment away from . . .” He flapped a hand toward the gift and then hurried into the back room.

“Do I want to know what is going on?” Cassie asked when he was gone. “You kind of scared me back there, running off like that.”

“I’m sorry about that. I was worried that something might happen to Jules and—”

Cassie raised a hand to cut me off. “I get it. It just caught me by surprise and I wasn’t sure if I should run and follow you or call for help.” She paused. “Are you okay? You look pale.”

I closed my eyes briefly before nodding. “I’m fine. I might have worked myself up over nothing.” Yet, I didn’t think so. Gifts didn’t just drop out of the sky to land on someone’s doorstep. And those same people didn’t just up and die without there being some sort of connection.

Jules returned from the back. His hand shook ever so slightly as he set his phone down onto the counter. “Detective Buchannan is on his way,” he said. “So is Lance. I only called him to warn him in case more presents showed up at home, but he insisted on coming here.”

“You should probably close the store before people start showing up again.” I was glad no kids were inside when I’d come barreling in, shouting like a lunatic. “I doubt many of your customers would be happy to have the police show up and interrogate them.” Especially since that police officer was going to be John Buchannan, a man not known for compassion or empathy.

Jules crossed the room and set the sign to CLOSED before leaning against the door. “This is crazy. Why would someone do something like this?”

“I could be wrong,” I said. “I didn’t mean to freak you out, but . . .”

“No, I get it.” Jules straightened. “I’m all right.”

“I should probably get going,” Cassie said, checking her watch. “Unless you think the police are going to need me for something?” She sounded about as enthused as I was at seeing Buchannan, which was not at all.

“You’re probably safe to go,” I said. “Detective Buchannan doesn’t even need to know you were here.”

Cassie smiled and rested a hand on my arm. “Thanks. I’ll talk to you soon.” She squeezed, and with a farewell nod to Jules, she left Phantastic Candies.

“I think we scared her off,” Jules said when the door closed again. Now that the initial shock had worn off, he was acting more like himself. “What do you think is in there?” He propped his elbows on the counter, chin in his hands, far too close to the gift for my liking.

“Probably nothing.” I hoped. “What did it feel like when you picked it up? Was it heavy? Did it rattle around?”

Jules’s brow furrowed. “No, it’s not heavy. But it’s not empty either. I felt something move around a little when I picked the box up, but couldn’t tell what that something might be.”

A big neon sign flashed the word BOMB in all caps over and over in my head. “It’s probably not a bomb,” I said.

“I hope not.” Jules blew out a breath, causing his lips to flap. “What a day.”

The sound of sirens approached. Less than a minute later, Detective John Buchannan and Officer Becca Garrison entered Phantastic Candies. Buchannan was scowling, which if I was being honest, he always was. Garrison looked less than happy, but when she saw me, she gave me a curt nod of acknowledgment.

“Where is it?” Buchannan demanded.

Garrison rolled her eyes and walked straight over to the box, which was, you know, sitting right there. “This the one?”

“That’s it,” Jules confirmed. “I brought it here from home, so it’s been moved from where I’d originally found it. Otherwise, it hasn’t been touched.”

Buchannan and Garrison both leaned toward the box as if they could discern something from the plain blue wrapping paper. Then, Buchannan reached out slowly, hand drifting ever closer, as if he planned on opening it right then and there.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” I asked, easing away.

He paused to glare at me. I raised my hands in surrender.

Buchannan touched Jules’s mysterious gift.

A loud bang echoed in the room. I jumped about a foot into the air, and Buchannan practically fell over backward trying to scramble away before he realized that the bang was followed by the sounds of candy being unwrapped.

Lance made a beeline for Jules, letting the door he’d slammed into close behind him. “Are you okay?” He looked Jules up and down, and finding no injuries, wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m fine,” Jules assured him. “We’re just being cautious.”

Buchannan shot me an unhappy look as he righted himself. “You know anything about this?”

“Kind of, not really.”

Buchannan’s scowl deepened.

“I mean, I’m the one who told Jules to call you, so, yeah, I guess.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because Andrew Carver received a gift just like this one on the day he died.”

The entire room went quiet. Jules leaned into Lance, whose jaw stiffened.

“This is a threat?” Lance asked.

Both Garrison and Buchannan looked at me for an answer, one I didn’t have.

“I don’t know.”

“We should take it somewhere safe before we open it,” Garrison said. “Make sure no one gets hurt.”

Buchannan nodded. “You said you moved it?” he asked Jules.

“I did.”

“Then it’s safe to transport.” Buchannan gestured for Garrison to go ahead, making sure to stay well back himself. She gave him a half-smile and an eyeroll that he missed because he was now focused on me.

“How did you learn about this supposed other gift?”

I tried not to bristle at the “supposed” part. “I talked to Erin Carver this morning.” When Buchannan’s eyes narrowed, I hurriedly added, “I was jogging when I saw someone inside Andrew’s Gifts. Since I was right there, I peeked inside to make sure no one was ransacking the place and Erin saw me. She came out to talk. I didn’t barge my way in or force her to do or say anything.”

Carefully, Officer Garrison picked up the package. When nothing happened, she sighed and carried the box out the door, arms extended in front of her as far as she could get them.

Buchannan scratched the back of his neck and frowned about the room some more before he said, “Fine. We’re taking the suspicious package to the station. I want you to find somewhere else to be.” He pointed at me.

A “but” was on my lips. I didn’t say it, but I thought it hard enough that Buchannan picked up on it.

“I mean it. No snooping. No following me. Just . . . go home.”

“I’m going with you.” Jules extracted himself from Lance’s arms and stepped up beside Buchannan. “I found it on my doorstep, which means it was meant for me. Once it’s open, I might be able to tell you something about who sent it.”

“And whether or not it’s dangerous,” I added, which earned me another Buchannan glare. I swear, the guy never smiles, not unless he’s about to throw me into a jail cell.

“I can come too,” Lance said.

“You should stay here,” Jules said. “Keep the store open while I’m gone. I don’t want to disappoint the kids if this turns out to be nothing.”

I would have argued, but Lance took a steadying breath and then nodded.

“All right.” Buchannan motioned for Jules to follow him before leveling that finger at me again. “You stay put.”

“I thought you told me to find somewhere else to be?”

Buchannan clenched his teeth so hard, I’m pretty sure I heard one of them creak.

“Okay, okay.” I raised my hands in surrender. “I’m going to see my dad anyway.”

“You do that.” Buchannan looked as if he might have more to say to me, but instead, all he did was sigh and say, “Come on,” to Jules before they both left the store.

“You’re going to figure this out, right?” Lance asked me as soon as they were gone.

Denial was on the tip of my tongue, but we both knew that if I said “no,” it would be a lie.

“I’m going to try.”

Lance clenched his fists. “Good.”

I left Phantastic Candies then, wishing I didn’t have to walk all the way back to Death by Coffee for my car. But walking did have its advantages over driving. Like, you know, being able to stop wherever I wanted without stalling traffic.

I crossed the street and headed toward Death by Coffee, which just so happened to take me past Andrew’s Gifts. And, as if I’d planned it, the door opened and Erin Carver ducked out beneath the police tape just as I got there. She had the empty gift box tucked under one arm.

“Hi, Erin. I’m sorry to bother you again.” I stopped in front of her. “Are you going to take that to the police?” I asked, nodding toward the box.

She frowned down at it. “I . . . I don’t know. Should I?”

“It might be evidence.” And while she didn’t know about Jules’s gift, it still seemed strange that she was taking it with her. Or that the police hadn’t taken it when they’d searched the place last night. If they’d searched Andrew’s Gifts at all.

“Do you think so?” Quite suddenly, she didn’t look like she wanted to touch it. I held out my hands, and without questioning my motives, she handed it over.

“I’ll make sure it gets to the police.” A vague thought that I should leave it here passed through my head. It was chased by another that was worried that if I did, the killer might come back and take it if it was evidence.

Erin nodded and hugged herself. “I don’t get it. Why would someone hurt Andrew? And why do it so close to Christmas? It’s so cruel.” She sniffed. “Could they have wanted to hurt me?”

I eyed her, wondering vaguely if all of this was for show. I mean, don’t they always say that it’s usually someone close to the victim when it comes to murder? And that spouses are the most likely suspects?

But if she was faking it, she was doing a pretty darn good job of it. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she was shaking, though that could have been from the cold.

I shuffled my own feet to keep the blood flowing. “Do you have any idea who might have wanted to hurt your husband?” I asked.

Erin shook her head. “He didn’t have enemies. Not real ones anyway. Andrew could sometimes be a little off-putting and had a short fuse, but he never got into regular fights or arguments or anything. Most of the time, he’d just walk away when he got mad.”

Except when he was confronting someone in his store.

“I saw Andrew get into an argument when I was in the store yesterday,” I said. “Do you know anything about that? The guy wears all black, has long hair.” I thought back but was coming up blank on any other description. “He said something about Andrew’s prices.”

Erin considered it before hugging herself even tighter. “I don’t know anyone like that. But if Andrew had a confrontation in the store with someone, he wouldn’t have told me.”

Which made me think that if Andrew Carver did get into regular fights, there was a chance his wife didn’t know.

“Did he talk about the store at all?”

Erin looked toward Andrew’s Gifts and the police tape strung across the door before she answered. “I never really asked. This place was his thing. He worked here on his own, managed the money himself. I had nothing to do with it.”

“He had no employees?”

“None. Just Andrew. He didn’t trust other people to be honest around money.”

I wondered if that included her, but decided not to ask. “What about something at home? Did he gamble? Have debts?”

She shook her head. “No, nothing like that.” She frowned. “Could it have been a rival store? When he opened . . .” Her expression told me that she’d thought of something.

I waited her out. I knew all about jealousy when it came to rival stores. Judith Banyon from the Banyon Tree diner swore I was trying to steal her customers at Death by Coffee, even though the only thing the places had in common was serving coffee.

But to stoop to murder over such a thing?

And how would Jules and Phantastic Candies tie into a spat between gift shops?

“There is this one place,” Erin said, tapping her foot as she looked down the street in the direction I’d just come from. “They sell little hand carved trinkets and bibles and crosses and things like that. It’s called Heavenly Gate.”

I thought I recalled seeing it before, but since I wasn’t very religious, I’d never paid it much mind.

“The owner wasn’t happy about Andrew’s Gifts opening?”

Erin started to nod, but then shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. And it wasn’t the owner, I guess, but his wife, who’d come in. She was unhappy.”

“About?”

Erin considered it. “I’m not exactly sure. I was only there to bring Andrew his lunch. He often forgot it when his mind was elsewhere.” She gave me a sad smile. “When I opened the door, the woman stomped off, so I didn’t hear anything she said.”

“And Andrew didn’t tell you?”

“No. He just said they were talking and that was that.” She sighed. “He was like that all the time.” A pause. “Andrew could be secretive, but I know for a fact he’d never cheat on me.”

Which I figured a lot of women thought just before finding out their husbands had been stepping out with the neighbor’s daughter. If Andrew had been cheating, then it gave more than one person motive for murder.

But the gift. And Jules.

I clamped down on the inevitable next thought. There was zero chance Jules or Lance had cheated with Andrew Carver. None.

“Look, I really need to get going,” Erin said. “Thank you for offering to take that to the police.” She indicated the box. “I was just going to throw it out.”

“It’s no problem.” I was losing feeling in my feet and my nose felt like a block of ice on my face, so I was happy to get moving again.

Erin headed for her car, head down. She glanced back once before climbing inside and driving off, leaving me standing in the cold, holding a box that could very well be the key to Andrew Carver’s murder.