Christmas Caper Read online

  The Christmas Caper

  Ella Westin # 7

  By Jennifer Oberth

  Copyright 2020 by Jennifer Oberth

  Smashwords Edition

  Cover by Ellie Oberth

  http://www.jenniferoberth.com

  Dedication

  To 2020

  May you get everything out of your system now—and never bother us again.

  P.S. Stop putting random words together like murder hornet, fire tornado, census cowboy, and chocolate snow.

  These aren’t real things!

  Okay, you can leave chocolate snow and make it happen by me, but that’s it!

  Acknowledgements

  I’m grateful for my wonderful critique partners and beta readers who help make my stories smooth to read!

  Thank you, Renae, Sabrina, Sue, Julie, Dan, and Cammie.

  Thank you, Mom.

  You guys rock!

  Table of Contents

  Christmas Caper

  The Ella Westin Mystery Series (#8 COMING SOON)

  Other Books by me!

  Books by Ellie Oberth

  Connect With the Author

  Disclaimer, Credits, and License Statement

  Ella Westin #7

  Christmas Caper

  Name: Ella Westin

  Date of Incident: December 24, 1827

  Location: Jasper’s Mansion

  Mission: Find out who invited the dead fellow

  Report filed: Class 2, Security Level 5

  Incident: Murder

  If you’d told me last year I’d be standing in my new home—a retired pirate’s mansion—on Christmas Eve, watching government agents cavorting with drunken criminals—four of whom nearly knocked down one of the more ostentatious Christmas trees—I wouldn’t have believed you. Yet here I was in a gorgeous blood-red velvet gown festooned with silver trim and with scarlet ribbons in my blond hair. Mrs. Crabtree had outdone herself, tying my hair back with pearl combs and creating wisps of blond strands to accent my perfectly made-up face.

  Since the town of Port Bass did not adopt the rest of the country’s apathy toward Christmas, we celebrated the festive occasion with abandon. The ladies of Port Bass had gathered at Mrs. Crabtree’s abode this morning so she could work on our various endeavors, and we were all in agreement in presenting her, for this Christmas, an ear trumpet and stronger glasses.

  More than one of us had spilled blood when the old lady poked sensitive scalps and didn’t respond to our cries of agony.

  It was all worth it to spend one evening feeling like a princess, even though this wasn’t my mansion and, in fact, the home was bought and furnished with other people’s money, unwilling participants in Jasper’s plans to live a life of comfort and luxury.

  In the palatial ballroom alone, pine swags, paper streamers, tinsel, and popcorn-cranberry strings stretched across the walls while people weaved on and off the dance floor, grabbing cookies cut out in shapes suited for the season and drinking spiced punch spiked with wine.

  The scent of pine mingled with flowery perfumes and the aroma of hard cider, and I drew in a deep, cleansing breath while fanning myself.

  Agent Chris Lanten swept across the room with Henrietta McGee. I whispered to Joe, loud enough so he could hear me over the musicians. “Didn’t she rob a bank around here last month?”

  Joe shrugged noncommittally. “That was never proven, and it happened in Augusta.”

  “But she’s a known criminal—”

  “Alleged criminal.”

  “But she’s dancing with Chris.”

  “I’m more interested in that.”

  I followed his glare. My husband stood six feet tall and wore a tailored suit, black as night and twice as alluring, but he hadn’t taken his sharp, blue eyes off his sister since our boss showed up and the two never left the dance floor.

  I couldn’t decide how I felt about the match or how long it might last. Doris was always up to something—something less than lawful—but Ness was quite taken with her.

  At first, I thought it an obvious ploy my boss had concocted to follow Doris around and find out what she was up to, but Ness was too trustworthy and obvious to pull off dressing as an escaped inmate on Halloween. He oozed honesty; you could smell it on him.

  Doris, on the other hand, was smooth as silk and could trick you into believing anything she wanted you to. They were completely opposite personalities and, even deeper, had conflicting goals in life, understandings, and dreams.

  I’d fallen in love with Joe, it was true, and he was as honest as the day was long. But I’d reformed my criminal ways before I’d met him. Doris was just getting warmed up.

  “I think it’s sweet,” I managed to choke out. It wasn’t any of my business who my sister-in-law chose to spend time with, or my boss, for that matter. I could barely hold my own life together without wanting to wake up screaming on particularly harsh days.

  Joe’s open face scrunched into a mass of wrinkles and disapproval.

  The criminals at the party were bold and challenging, whereas the law enforcement guests seemed joyful and lighthearted, yet waiting to strike. The atmosphere was awkward and unsettling. “This is like our wedding, all over again,” I said in a low voice.

  Joe shook his head. “There aren’t any undercover agents here, except for me. But I don’t work undercover in Maine anymore.”

  That was a new directive handed down by Ness, but I was glad of it. Joe’s work was dangerous, all the more so as people recognized him while he was trying to pass himself off as one of the guys inside criminal organizations. The part I didn’t care for was when he’d be assigned his next case because he’d be traveling a great distance and I wouldn’t see him for weeks on end. I was more than happy to experience this freedom but Joe’s father, Jasper, would miss him, blame me, and most likely pester me to pass the time.

  Joe bent to my ear and whispered softly, his warm breath making my skin tingle. “I should probably tell you I’ve been assigned a job in New York, and I’ll be leaving after the new year, but there’s a hitch right now.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  He straightened. “Nothing we can’t figure out, but I’ll probably be gone a month. Possibly longer.”

  I nodded. He and Ness would come up with some solution to whatever the problem was, of that I was sure. They were both good men and dedicated to the job.

  I glanced at the tall case clock in the corner and touched Joe’s sleeve. “I should check on Annie.”

  He smirked, but his tone was sincere. “You know, sweetheart, it’s a wonderful thing you’re doing for her.”

  I scrunched my nose. Annie Grainger had sought sanctuary in this house, and we’d been protecting her from the wrath of unscrupulous men ever since. Her intended, Alvin St. James, killed a nasty criminal named Smythe. It wasn’t planned, as Smythe had been attacking Annie at the time and, while any man worth his salt would protect his bride-to-be, Smythe’s men still might seek vengeance. I ought to get Annie’s fiancé out of jail soon so she could go to him and leave me in relative peace. I’d made that promise several times. But I hadn’t yet figured out a way to do it safely. I reasoned the passage of time would allow tempers to cool, but witnessing Annie, a completely innocent girl, deal bravely with this mess only made things worse for me.

  Joe kissed my cheek. “You have fun with Annie, and find me when you’re done.”

  Moving through the grand ballroom, I smiled and dipped into curtsies as I made my way upstairs, the spicy scents of food, gingerbread cookies baking in the oven, drink, and perfumes mingling pleasantly around me.

  Jasper had been elated when I told him I’d conned Barnaby Stoker into letting Jasper host the Port Bass Christmas party. My father-in-law was so ec
static, he’d snaked an arm around my waist and swung me around the dining room, his wooden leg not missing a step. After a while, a lot of babbling about plans, and a lot more dancing, he’d calmed down long enough to worry.

  The Westin Mansion housed stolen goods, tons of valuables—treasure even rich men might consider stealing—and Annie. Jasper decided to cancel the Christmas Eve party before he’d even planned it, but Annie wouldn’t hear of it. She’d threatened to run straight to Smythe’s men if he didn’t carry on with the party as scheduled.

  Jasper had been angling for this party for a year and he’d worked hard for it. Stoker had hosted his own birthday party in November and Alfred Peabody would be doing the New Year’s Eve soiree. Jasper finally felt accepted by society at taking over the duties as host of the upper crust of Port Bass’s Christmas Eve partygoers.

  He was as happy as a pirate-turned-shipwright could be on land. Despite all the plans, preparations, and emotional and social attachments to this shindig, he’d been willing to give it all up to protect Annie.

  Doris was the brilliant voice of reason who suggested we post guards outside Annie’s room and rotate them throughout the night. This satisfied Jasper, Annie, and myself. We had enough agents volunteer to make it happen.

  Right now was my turn to stand guard, and as much as I was enjoying the party, I welcomed the quiet break. Hitching up my heavy skirts as a lady should, I ascended the marble staircase, my heels making no sound on the wide, red carpet runner. Annie’s room lay at the end of a long hallway, and I walked slowly but surely past locked rooms and decked halls.

  I hadn’t seen Doug Furlong dressed so nicely since my wedding. Standing at attention, he cut an imposing image in his finest striped trousers and a matching cravat tied loosely at his neck. His waistcoat couldn’t hide the fact he was thick around the middle, though by no means was he a man of excessive habits. A good friend of Joe’s—and mine, too—I greeted Doug with a warm hug and genuine smile.

  “Ella, you look beautiful!” Doug opened his strong arms and held my elbows as he kissed my cheek lightly.

  “I always said you were perceptive.”

  Laughing, he pulled away and waved at the door, the scent of cinnamon and sugar cookies hanging in the air. “Miss Grainger has been unusually quiet.”

  “Are we worried?”

  “I was but now I think she’s just a bit tired.” He nodded toward the door. “I’m glad you’re here. You can sit with her. Keep her company.”

  “She wanted to do this, Doug. Jasper was set to cancel the party.”

  “Hey, I think she’s a great gal, but it’s still tough to sit out such a rousing, noisy party. And at Christmas, you know. And without her intended.”

  Ah. That might be why Annie was withdrawn. She must be thinking about her betrothed, St. James. Christmas was never particularly special for me, as I didn’t have family, but I understood the allure of such a holiday when you did have loved ones. “Are you sure your foot is healed enough to dance?”

  “I’ve been resting and doing everything Dr. Ivan suggested for this very night. I’m fit to frolic.”

  I smirked at him. “Have fun down there, Doug.”

  His grin deepened, and he nearly hopped down the corridor to the staircase, eager to join the party.

  Bringing up my right hand, one of my slender bracelets fell back, and I paused. Did I have to visit with Annie? I could stand in the hallway, alone with my thoughts.

  No, that was a little too selfish for this time of year. I knocked hard. I heard a suspicious “yip” followed by the rustle of fabric before hearing the slide of the lock slowly dragging across the wood.

  The door opened, letting a shaft of yellow light escape into the hallway. Jasper had brought up extra oil lamps so no one could sneak up here and harass Annie, but it was still an interior area and rather dark. Annie stuck her head in the sliver of the opening, her brown curls bouncing around her face. “Ella?”

  My back stiffened, and I drew one of my knives. She never called me Ella.

  “Mrs. Westin. It’s you.”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  Shoulders sagging, she let her mouth pull down and her brown eyes followed, studying the carpet runner beneath my feet. “I suppose you’d like to come in.”

  I relaxed, marginally, as her demeanor seemed more defeated than scared. Still, there wasn’t a chance I wasn’t going in that room now. “Yes, I think that would be best.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” She sighed heavily, letting her hand drop from the door jamb.

  I barged in, brandishing my knife, ready for anything.

  “You don’t need that, Mrs. Westin.”

  I would be the one to determine that. “Did you see someone you know?”

  “No.”

  “One of Smythe’s men?”

  “In here? Not a chance.”

  “Someone after St. James?”

  “Of course not.”

  I took in the chamber before moving farther inside. This had been Joe’s quarters not long ago. A fire roared, cutting the chill from the biting wind slamming against the window. Dark red drapes swayed as though someone hid behind them. I crossed between the carved wooden bed and fireplace, the rugs masking my footfalls, and yanked the heavy curtains aside. No one. I’d purposely left the door open, but Annie slammed it shut and grabbed my arm.

  I nearly skewered her. The girl had no sense of weapon safety.

  No one in the room except for Annie and me…

  And the gentleman currently sleeping in her bed.

  No wonder she’d been acting jumpy. I swung around to face her fully. “Annie Grainger, what is going on here?”

  Curls flew around her worried face as she shook her head. “I…I…” She trailed off and the freckles across her plump nose no longer gave her the childlike appearance I’d so far associated with her. Determined brown eyes flashed at me, and I had no fear the girl would break down into a fit of tears—and this was the one time I would expect and accept it. How could she do this to her intended? The audacity of sneaking a man into her bed and at our Christmas party!

  Why?

  And in Jasper’s home? In Joe’s not-too-recently-vacated bed?

  I wanted to shout that this was so out of character for Annie, but the truth was I hadn’t known her long. Maybe she was the sort of girl who did this kind of thing. But…I never would have guessed it, and I’m a good judge of character. You had to be to survive investigating murders and various other crimes in a small town, in a world run by men.

  Was that it? Was Annie snubbing men folk? Did St. James deserve this sort of treatment? Did anybody? “Annie Grainer, how could you do this? Tell me!” But I didn’t want to know.

  “I didn’t mean to, Mrs. Westin. I didn’t plan it!”

  Did that make the deed acceptable? No, it didn’t. Not by my judgment and, as I was the only one here, I could judge. “I don’t care if you planned it. You did it.”

  “Oh, Mrs. Westin, I need your help!” Annie began swirling around the room in a nervous pace, her simple blue skirts flapping around her. “I know you’ll help me—you must.”

  “Help you?”

  “Yes. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but you might as well help me now.”

  “Help you?” I repeated. I kept my voice low to not rouse the man in the bed. I would let him have the same treatment if he awoke, but I preferred to deal with Annie alone at the moment. “I don’t condone this, Annie. What on earth would make you think I would?”

  “Well, you’ve done it before.”

  “Excuse me?” I had never been unfaithful to Joe.

  “I know you’ll help me because you have to. We have to keep him a secret until we can figure out what to do.”

  “We?”

  “Since you’re the expert, I’ll do whatever you say.”

  My jaw dropped so far I felt my chin hit flesh.

  “I know this is a lot to ask, and I know it’s unfortunate timing, and I know it’s an
awful place, but I also know Jasper would understand. Do you think he would help us? I don’t want to interrupt his party. It’s bad enough I’ve got one of you guarding me all night long. I don’t want to be any more of a bother.”

  Horrified, I forced the judgments deep into my bosom. Taking a calming breath, I tried to focus my brain on action, not morality. “The first thing we should do is get him out of here.”

  Annie’s brown eyes grew. “No! Everyone will see him.”

  “You should have thought of that before! What were you thinking?”

  If Annie took exception to my shouting, she didn’t show it, and the man didn’t wake. “I wasn’t really thinking.” She shrugged, rustling the fabric of her dress. “I sort of acted.”

  “Well, then, might I suggest we get a priest?” Get them married before anything else happened. That ought to shake her up, make her think about poor, innocent St. James, in prison for his and her own protection. In prison for protecting Annie, willing to exchange his life for hers. He could have died the night he saved Annie.

  Annie bit her lip for a moment before nodding. “Yes, a priest might be the thing to do. You know, make it official. Oh, I don’t know, though. Can we find a priest on Christmas Eve? Aren’t they all kind of busy?”

  She wasn’t as upset as she should be. As I wanted her to be. “What would St. James say, Annie? Did that thought even occur to you?”

  “Of course it did.” She waved a hand. “I wish Al were here, to tell you the truth. He’d be right next to me.”

  “Next to you?” I didn’t understand what she was telling me, but a horrid picture sprang into my mind. My breath began to leave my body, but I was able to control speech long enough to ask, “What do you…What do you mean?”