BOOK: Christmas at Star Lake

 

Christmas at Star Lake 

https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Star-Lake-Madison-Rand-ebook/dp/B017WLY1JA

It’s the perfect time for a Christmas Murder Mystery! Somebody is killing off Madison’s employees, so she closed down shop, sends everyone home, and heads to a cabin at the lake to think. What could possibly go wrong? 

#mystery #amreadingromance #Christmas

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Office Call 

“Yes, Brittany,” Madison answered the office intercom phone. “Is Kyle here?” “Ah, no, Ms. Rand, Detective Carlucci’s here to see you,” Brittany announced. “Oh, no, Brit, Carlucci never brings good news. There goes my good mood, my holiday spirit, and in all probability, my lunch date with Kyle. Let him in.”

“Ms. Rand will see you now,” Brittany said to the policeman. Silver Maples’ finest detective in more ways than one, Anthony Carlucci sauntered into Madison’s office and stared at her.

 “Merry Christmas, Detective Carlucci. What a pleasant surprise. And how did my little systems analysis business offend Silver Maple’s finest detective this cold December morning ?”

 “Ahh, Madison, don’t be like that. Although Rand in Cleveland, Chicago, and Philadelphia is what you say it is, we all know damn well this little systems analysis business is a front for the biggest and the best hometown protect-the-innocent-and-help-the-helpless operation in the country. You thumb your nose at the establishment and make the police department look inefficient on a daily basis and the citizens of Silver Maple love you for it—at least the law-biding ones. Remember, me and Rand, we go way back. And it’s always a pleasure to come and visit and just look around.” 

“Thank you—I think. Coffee?” 

“Sure.” He sat down, stretched out his long legs, and got comfortable.

 “Brittany, Detective Heartthrob Carlucci’s in the mood for some coffee to go with his late morning chat,” she called out.

 “Now, what’s on your mind, Detective? Christmas is almost here and I’m a busy woman.”

 “Madison, new evidence has come to light from the state coroner’s office. You’re in over your head, kid. Do you still own this building? Without Hawk, Pops, and Thor, you’ve got nobody to protect you. You’re pissing people off left and right. I think you should sell. Get out of New York. Go somewhere nice and warm. Open up a little dress shop in Florida.” 

Brittany came in with his coffee, set it down on the desk, winked at him, and strutted out.  Carlucci watched her until she was out of sight. 

“Tony? Yo, Tony!” Madison called to bring him back to the conversation. “What are you talking about? What new evidence?” 

“Your big blond guy, Thor. Real name Bob Turner.” 

“Yes, what about Bob?”

 “It wasn’t a heart attack. We have new evidence he was killed.” 

Madison stood up and backed away from Carlucci, leaning against the wall for support. 

“Bob…killed? Murdered? Why? How? He didn’t have an enemy in the world. Who would want to kill Bob?”

 “The lab report showed a highly toxic poison in his system. At the autopsy, the coroner did note a tiny pinprick on Bob’s shoulder. Someone delivered the poison by a pat on the shoulder. Fast-acting stuff. So, we gather, it happened while he was out jogging in the park that morning.”

 “No,” whispered Madison in disbelief, then took a moment to let it sink in. “So Bob was murdered.” She walked to the window and looked out silently for a moment. “You know, I always doubted that heart attack theory,” she said. “He was as healthy as they came. Exercise freak. Vegan. Vitamin-popper. Knew all his numbers: cholesterol, blood pressure, blood sugar, hemoglobin, homocysteine, and sodium levels. Damn walking encyclopedia of health information one really didn’t care to know. Sometimes he was pure hell to have dinner with. But murdered? Who would want to kill Bob, and why?”

 “Any one of the number of disgruntled thugs, bullies, and criminals that you’ve angered over the years. But, Madison, there’s more. Are you listening to me? Madison? Pops, too.”

 “My dad? No, Tony, Dad had a stroke. In bed. In the middle of the night. At home.”

 “No, kid. He was murdered.” 

“Somebody murdered my father in our house? While I slept upstairs?” Madison sank into her chair.

 “Yes.”

 “But there was no sign of a break in.” 

“I know. They were good.” 

“How did they get past our security system?” 

“I don’t know. They were good.” 

 “So somebody killed Bob and my dad last December and you just now figured it out? The same way? Two tiny pinpricks didn’t send up a red flag? What’s the matter with you guys? Are you all blooming idiots?” 

“There was no autopsy done on Pops, remember, so we don’t know if he had a pinprick. We’re only going on the toxicology reports. These things take time. The tox report on Bob Turner came in and got filed with the closed cases. The computer didn’t cough up the match with your father’s until yesterday when... Listen, you‘re all in danger, but especially your boyfriend, the toothpick from Cleveland. If someone’s targeting your muscle, then the toothpick is next to go down. Everybody knows who he is and where he works, and everybody knows he’s nuts about you. He’s a celebrity in town and he’s only been here—what, a year? The TV reporters follow him around just to see what he’ll do next.” 

“Dad and Bob died last December. So why are we in danger now?”

 “A big order of the same unusual substance has just hit the city.” 

“You have a paper trail?”

 “Well, no, we had a digital trail that…vanished.” 

“So some crazy person out there only wants to kill my people at Christmas time? What’s the name of this substance? How much exactly is a big order? Where did it originate? Is there an antidote?” 

“You need to close down Rand Solutions and become invisible, all of you, or the body count will only go up. Today, Madison.” 

“Answer my questions, Tony,” she demanded.

 “I don’t have the answers.” He threw his hands up in the air. 

“Thank you for coming. Goodbye, Detective Carlucci. See yourself out.” “Madison, I need you to—”

 Madison picked up her handbag and left through her private entrance. She pulled her coat off the hook in the hall and rode her private elevator down to the street. She couldn’t breathe. She had a giant lump in her throat. Something was twisting hard in her chest. Her head was pounding. She wanted to puke. Or pass out. Or both.

 Her cell phone rang. “What!” she shouted. 

“Maddie, what’s the matter?” Her secretary Brittany sounded scared. “Nothing. Nothing’s the matter. Close up shop for today, Brit. Send everybody home. Tell them…just tell them to all go home. Tell them to wait for a call from me or you before they return to the building in January.” 

“What? We didn’t pass the health code inspection?” asked Brittany. “They’re closing down the building?”

 “Yeah, something like that.”

 “Maddie, are you okay?”

 “Sure. I’m fine. Just aggravated with that damn strutting pretty boy Carlucci at the moment. But it’ll pass. I’m okay. Go home, Brit.”

 Madison walked aimlessly down the street, ignoring the beautiful Christmas decorations and holiday storefronts that usually thrilled her, reliving her conversation with Detective Carlucci. 

“You’re all in danger, especially your boyfriend, the toothpick from Cleveland. If someone is targeting your muscle, the toothpick’s the next to go down.” 

Kyle. Her sweet Kyle. Her love. His life was in danger. One of the many thugs, creeps, and morons she’d put in their place was picking off her people one at a time, with nothing more than a pat on the shoulder. 

Her cell phone rang again. “Now what!” she screamed into the phone.

 “Maddie, it’s me,” said Kyle. “Sweetie, where are you? Tell me where you are and I’ll come and get you. I know you’re upset. Brittany said we failed some health inspection and they closed down the building. That can’t be true. What rubbish! Where are you? I’ll come and get you. We’ll have some lunch and together we’ll figure out what to do next. It’ll be okay, honey, don’t worry. So…what would you like to do with all this time off, hmm? I have a few ideas. We could maybe—”

 “Kyle honey, I can’t talk right now. Go home. Be extremely cautious. I’ll call you later.”

 She turned her phone off. Madison found herself in front of the massive grey stone VistaCor building on the corner. She went in and approached the statuesque, auburn-haired beauty at the desk by the elaborately decorated Douglas fir tree decked in golden ornaments. 

“Hi, Anita. I don’t have an appointment, but I’d like to speak to Mr. Modarelli. It’s important.”

 “Of course, Ms. Rand. I’ll let him know you’re here.” 

Moments later, Anita reappeared. “Follow me, Ms. Rand,” she said, and led her down the hall into the room at the end of the hall. “Mr. Modarelli said he’d be with you shortly.”

 “Thank you, Anita.” Madison sat on the couch. She looked around at what appeared to be a more personal room than a waiting room. It was large with gleaming dark wood and leather furniture and Modarelli family portraits going back generations on the wall, bookcases full of books and awards. A fire blazed in the grey fieldstone fireplace. There were large fresh pine wreaths with lush red velvet bows on the windows and pieces of a old ceramic Nativity set on the mantel. A slim tree decorated with gold ribbon and stars sat in the corner. She stared at the fireplace flames and lost track of time. 

“Madison? Maddie?” Mike Modarelli shook her shoulder as he sat next to her on the couch.  

Madison clutched her shoulder and pulled away from him. Pinprick? Bastard! No, no pinprick. Just her imagination.

 “What is it? Something’s wrong. Tell me.” He soothed her. “You’re pale and shaking.” 

“Daddy…was murdered,” she blurted out in sobs. 

He pulled her into a hug and patted her back. He let her cry until the sobs slowed down.

 “Murdered? Are you sure?” 

“Detective Carlucci came to the office this morning. Somebody got through the security system, killed Dad, and got out without a sound.” She nodded. “Dad…and Bob, too. Both of them were murdered. A highly toxic substance was found in their blood work just now when they died last December. No heart attack. No stroke. They were poisoned. A pinprick on the shoulder in Bob’s case.” 

“Do they have any leads?”

 “No. But more of this unusual toxic poison has made its way into town, and Carlucci thinks it’s tagged for my people.”

 “Carlucci laid that on you and left?”

 “Yes. He suggested I close up shop and leave town.”

 “So somebody is forcing you to close down by eliminating your muscle?”

 “Yes, and he said…Kyle is next.” She sobbed again. “Mike, I’m finally happy again. I finally had the courage to let someone in, to start over. And I’m so lucky because Kyle is such a wonderful man. He’s the kindest, sweetest, funniest, most romantic man I’ve ever met and I’ve never felt so loved in my life. He doesn’t play games. He’s open and honest with me. He’s so patient and gentle. He loves with his whole heart. I’d sell shoes at Macy’s in downtown Detroit just to be near him. Now, his life is in danger. There’s a target on his back…because of me.”

 “What are you going to do?”

 “Send him back to Cleveland. Today. I’ll make sure he gets his old job back, with a raise.”

 “Are you going to tell him the truth?” Modarelli scratched his head. “You know, you owe him the truth, Madison.”

 “No, I can’t. If I tell him the truth, he won’t go. He’ll stay here with me even if we’re closed down, even if he knows his life is in danger. No. I’ll tell him…he’s a big fat failure at this kind of business, that he draws too much attention to himself, he’s too obvious, that he’s too soft, and I can’t be babysitting him all the time, and he’s got to go back to Cleveland.” 

“That’s…harsh.”

 “What should I say? Something like, ‘Sweetie, bad guys want to poison you with a pat on the back, or the shoulder, wherever. I love you and I want you to be safe, so go away for a little bit, become invisible, and I’ll call you when I get this mess sorted out, okay honey?’ Does that sound good?”

 “Yeah, I like that better.”

 “No,” said Madison. “He won’t go.”

 “Madison, you’ve never looked happier. You finally got over Hawk’s death and began living again. You have a good, solid, honest man who loves you and you’re going to drive him away? Be verbally abusive to him? Hurl insults at him like big rocks?” Mike said. “Maddie, he’s crazy about you. He’s never tried to hide his feelings for you. If you do this—”

 “What? If I do this, I’ll save his life by removing him from the dangerous situation?”

 “No. You’ll break his heart. I like this guy. He’s genuine. Don’t do it. Now, what about you? Certainly whoever’s doing this has to realize you’re the brains and guts behind the operation. Your life is in danger, too. Where are you going to go? New Jersey with your sister?”

 “No, I can’t put my sister and her kids in danger.” 

“Then…where?” Modarelli moved to the desk by the window, opened a drawer, and pulled out a small leather bag.

 “I don’t know. They killed Dad while I slept upstairs, so my house isn’t safe. I have no idea where to go.” 

 “I do,” he said. He handed her the leather bag. “The Modarelli family owns a cabin at the lake.” 

“Yes, Dad was there a number of times with your grandfather. He raved about how beautiful and ingenious it was. A masterpiece, he said. Peaceful and serene. Nobody around for miles and miles.” 

“We don’t use it much in the winter. There’s a ton of snow up there right now. Here. Door key, garage door opener, and the key to the liquor cabinet, because by the looks of you, you need it. Address and directions are here, too. I’ll call my man in the area, Jack Cameron, and have him plow the road to the cabin and clear the driveway. He’ll stock the kitchen. Don’t use your cell phone. Pick up a disposable one on the way out of town. Leave your little red sports car parked at home. Visible. Leave a light on in the house. Take your father’s SUV.”

 “Mike, I don’t know what to say,” she said, giving him a hug. 

“My pop and grandpa owed your father their lives many times over. They would want me to do whatever I could to keep you safe. Call me if you need me. I’ll have Jack check in on you every few days. He’ll get you whatever you need and keep an eye on the place. Jack Cameron. Big, burly redhead, about six foot two. Freckles and green eyes. Likes plaid flannel shirts. Impervious to cold weather. Drives a green Jeep like a bat out of hell.” 

“Mike, if Kyle comes to you asking where I’ve gone, don’t tell him,” she pleaded. 

“Yeah, yeah, I hear you,” Mike said. “You know he’ll come here. What do you want me to tell him?”

 “Tell him to wear his birthday present.” 

 “Huh?”

 “I bought him a Kevlar shirt/jacket for his birthday.” 

“A bullet-proof shirt? How romantic of you. Did you walk down? I’ll drive you up to get your car. You can’t be walking around town in your present state. Come on.”

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