Page 1 of The Most Wonderful Crime of the Year

Prologue

Excerpt from the Official Police Interrogation of Margaret Chase and Ethan Wyatt

December 25

Ms. Chase:Well, of course I have his blood on my hands.

Mr. Wyatt:It was just a scratch.

Ms. Chase:I obviously didn’t try to kill him.

Mr. Wyatt:Maggie’s more of a lover than a—

Ms. Chase:If I’d tried to kill him, he’d be dead.

Mr. Wyatt:She’s such a good person. [Mr. Wyatt pats his heart.] Right here.

Ms. Chase:Of course, I’m not offended that you’d accuse me of murder. I’m offended you’d think I’d be bad at it.

Mr. Wyatt:It’s a point of professional pride. Ha! Wait. That was a joke. Can you please write down that I was—

Ms. Chase:You should have separated us, you know? We shouldn’t be together for this. Not that we’re together! Oh no! We are not awe. He isheand I ammeand we are not...

Mr. Wyatt:We’re colleagues.

Ms. Chase:I prefer nemesis. Nemesis is a far better word.

Mr. Wyatt:It’s a big market, and we appeal to different— Have I mentioned they’re making one of my books into a movie?

Ms. Chase:I’m sorry, but are we seriouslystill sitting here, doing nothing? Am I really wearing this ridiculous sweater, answering these ridiculous questions when she’s...

Inspector Patel:Why don’t you start at the beginning?

Mr. Wyatt:I... uh... I don’t understand the question.

Inspector Patel:When did it start?

Mr. Wyatt:Oh. It started—

Ms. Chase:In the elevator.

Chapter One

One Week Earlier

It wasn’t until the elevator doors were sliding open that Maggie realized she was about to come face-to-face with her three least favorite things in the world:

Christmas. A party. And Ethan Freaking Wyatt.

For a moment, she just stood there, the cacophony of carols and chatter fading to a low hum as she stared through the open doors at the smug look on his smug face—at his trademark leather jacket and the strand of twinkle lights wrapped around his neck like a scarf. There was a Santa hat on his head and, of course, a copy ofSilent Knight(“Now a #1New York TimesBestseller!”) in his hands. The fact that it was just a cardboard cutout and not the man himself should have softened the blow for Maggie, but it was all she could do not to punch him in his cardboard teeth.

At the very least she should have reached for the button and made the elevator doors close faster—and maybe she would have if a voice hadn’t cried out, “Oh my gosh. You’re here!” Which was when Maggie knew she’d made a terrible mistake.

She should have slipped away when she’d had the chance, down in the elevator. Through the lobby. Then out onto the cold and crowded streets of Midtown Manhattan seven days before Christmas. She should have gotten out of there—and she would have—if Cardboard Ethan hadn’t distracted her. But now it was too late and two tiny but deceptively viselike hands were dragging her off the elevator and into the big open lobby of Killhaven Books.

“Shellie bet me five dollars that you’d show, and here you are!” Deborah had to raise her voice to be heard over all the small talk and laughter because, oh yeah. There was a party going on.A Christmas party.And Maggie had waltzed rightinto the middle of it. A tree was blinking and music was playing and the room was swirling. Just a little.

“Maggie?” Deborah’s voice was closer. Softer.