Claus of Death
By Moira Bates
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About this ebook
When they promise attendees it will be an evening to remember, they mean it.
Julia Jane Melvin is forty-something and fierce, and she's throwing the party of the year in attempt to get Baseless on the map—literally. She's even hired "Santa to the Stars," Ike Cumberland of Muleshoe, Texas.
Poppy Price is a rising food-star, so she easily won the bid to cater. People come from miles around for her creations—and she is best friends with Julia's son—no one else would do.
Spend the holidays with the people of Baseless—deep in the heart of Texas, where mayhem and mysteries roam.
Claus of Death is a holiday crossover short, featuring the casts of Poppy's Food Truck Mysteries and Mid Life Mysteries.
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Book preview
Claus of Death - Moira Bates
When they promise attendees it will be an evening to remember, they mean it.
1
POPPY
Ben snagged a cookie off the holiday-themed tower and popped it in his mouth. I can’t believe my mom suckered you into this.
I shot him a withering look as I rearranged the cookies to cover his theft. She didn’t sucker me into anything. It’s a paid job, and I need paid jobs. And a good catering gig can land a half-dozen more, which each has the potential to—
He stuck out his tongue and made a rude noise. Who are you? Where is fun Poppy?
I elbowed him out of the way and moved to another empty dish waiting to be filled. Trust me, fun Poppy is a lot more fun when she’s not worried about paying the bills.
A young lady in a black skirt, white shirt, and black apron approached from the kitchen. One of the Rent-a-Roo crew Julia had hired to assist me and serve. An enterprising soul had created the program several years ago when he tired of eating instant ramen. Through his business, you could hire a local college student to do just about anything. This time of year, they were kept busy serving as valets and kitchen help for holiday parties. The pay was better than anything else they could get, holiday-goers are generally good tippers, and the commitment was never more than a few hours. It checked all the boxes for a busy and broke college student.
Everything is unloaded,
she said. What would you like me to do next? I can put out the candies.
No, I want to handle all the candies personally.
Over Thanksgiving, I had told my friends in Baseless that I was going to visit my parents in Dallas. I’d told my parents I was celebrating with friends in Baseless. In truth, I watched Christmas movies and made candy. My experimentation grew out of boredom, but it blossomed into some tasty creations. I decided to serve them at Julia’s Christmas party and had made dozens of little two-bite boxes to go home as party favors. It wasn’t as generous as it might have seemed to a casual observer—I fully expected to go home with a handful of orders for candy gift boxes. Take a break—things will get chaotic soon.
Ben rolled his eyes as he watched the Rent-a-Roo retreat to the kitchen. You know my mom has to pay them whether or not they are working.
I grunted a non-reply. She hired them to keep you from working yourself to exhaustion.
But your mom is particular,
I said. Ben and I had been friends since elementary school, and he knew I meant his mom was a complete control freak. And I’m particular. It makes no sense to have her do something if someone is going to come along behind her and change it. I need someone who is familiar with—
Ugh,
Ben exclaimed as he snapped on a pair of kitchen gloves. Which tray do you want filled next?
2
JULIA
P oppy,
I called down the stairs, tightening the belt on my robe. We’re closing in—are you ready?
Ben barely glanced up from where he was arranging delectable looking bites on a platter. Get dressed, Mother. It’s under control.
Why aren’t you ready?
I asked, as nerves rocketed through my chest. You can’t wear that—
Ben looked me up and down with a tired glance. I don’t see why I can’t wear jeans and a t-shirt if you’re wearing your robe.
I opened my mouth to reply, but Poppy dropped a small, flat package into my hands before I could. A donation for the cat rescue. You can auction it or whatever.
I stared at the beautifully wrapped package with a tag bearing her name attached to the ribbon. Poppy, this is a gift for you.
She reached over and plucked the tag off. Now it’s for the cats.
I turned the package over, looking for some indication of what it might contain. What is it?
I finally asked.
Poppy had returned to setting up the dessert table. "I’m not sure; it