Page 23 of Christmas Fudge Fatality
DSLR.
I let it ruminate in my mind a moment, and then, just like that, my heart stops cold.
I know who the killer is.
Chapter 10
The music turns down a notch while my mother steps up to the microphone and begins laying out the ground rules for the matchmaking melee about to ensue.
Meg says something about ducking for cover and does a disappearing act into the crowd, but I’m not too interested in anything going on in this room. Instead, Noel and I head out of the conservatory and straight into the kitchen.
“Oh, thank heavens, Lottie.” Stacy slides a bag of chopped carrots my way. “I could really use your help, after all. It turns out, everyone from the office is in the next room and completely unwilling to give up their coveted spot in the little mating dance about to take place.”
Noel hops up onto the kitchen island—floated up to be exact.
“Ask her, Lottie! Ask if she killed my Tamara—my best girl.” And then as if the tiny pup were coming to an abrupt epiphany, he stops cold. “The camera, Lottie. That’s what you were looking at in the next room. It’s what made you think to come here, isn’t it?”
It wasn’tdid he sell areI heard. It was DSLR.
“That’s right,” I whisper, carefully pulling the bag of carrots my way. “It sure is busy in there. I guess everyone wants to find love during the holidays. It would be nice anyway.” I swallow hard, examining her as she works to stack the celery onto a three-tiered platter.
“Well, they’ll be hungry for something to snack on in just a few minutes. Not that my veggies can compete with that fudge of yours. You’ll have to give me the recipe.”
“I will.” I clear my throat. “Did you see there was a photographer next door? I guess my mother spared no expense. That camera he had looked pretty expensive.”
She scowls as she pulls a head of broccoli toward her. “Trust me. It was expensive. I should know. I’ve got my fair share of equipment. Or should I say had,” she grunts before bringing down a butcher knife over a head of broccoli in a violent thrust.
Noel jumps straight into the air and keeps on floating. “Good grief. I think we should leave, Lottie. She’s armed and dangerous.”
But I don’t leave. Instead, I make my way around the island as I inch my way over to her.
“Is that what you were arguing with Tamara about? You were talking about a camera that night.” I know because Lainey told me as much. “And you accused Tamara of taking it.” I know because that conversation I was fortunate enough to digitally overhear told me exactly that. “It was a DSLR camera you accused her of taking, wasn’t it?”
Stacy’s face bleaches out. Her mouth falls open as she lets the butcher knife slip from her fingers.
“How do you know that?” She gives a few quick blinks. “I mean, everyone knows that. I was pretty upset that I had lost it. But no, I didn’t accuse Tamara of anything.”
“Yes, you did. It was after Scott left. After Bonnie and Joyce left together as well. Tamara called me to put in an order for a party—a Christmas party she would never get to have because you pushed her. It wasn’t an accident.”
“No,” Stacy says it lower than a whisper, shaking her head as she begins to back up. “This can’t be happening.”
“But it did happen, didn’t it?”
Her fingers clasp over the handle of the knife again.
“Lottie!” Noel barks my name out in one vicious roar.
Instinctively, my hand slaps over Stacy’s, and soon we’re struggling for the knife gyrating wildly between us.
Stacy grunts, “Don’t do this, Lottie. It didn’t have to be this way.” In one swift move she has me in a headlock with my back tucked to her chest as she moves us toward the back door that leads to the woods behind the kitchen. “Why do you always have to stick your nose where it doesn’t belong? Scott was the perfect scapegoat. He exploded that night when he saw her. It was believable. I even had Scott doubting his own story at times.” She works the door open and the icy wind hits us with a blast. “Now look what you’re making me do?” She brings the knife to my throat as I writhe, trying my best to get out from her grip on me. “Stop struggling or this will get messy.”
“Stacy, we’ve known each other for a long time. You’re good friends with Lainey. This isn’t you. This isn’t what you’re about.”
“She took my camera, Lottie. I saved for months to buy that. I researched it for a year before I made the purchase. Tamara had everything handed to her. Scott and I did all the work on the farm while she did whatever she wished with her time. All she wanted to do was hurt me. Yes, I was with Scott. But not for long. Scott and I—we were going to get married as soon as his divorce was final. He promised me, no prenup. As soon as I get my name on the deed to that farm, I’ll take my half and leave him. I never wanted Tamara’s sloppy seconds. Tamara worked me like a dog for years. She thought she was better than me. But I showed her. I took what I could. Scott was ripe for the picking. Tamara treated him like the help. She made it all too easy.” She pulls me past the walk and we stumble in the snow as we miss that first step on the way to parking lot.
The knife slips from her, and I lunge for it.
“Lottie!” Noel jumps past me and onto Stacy’s chest.