A Wee Christmas Homicide by Kaitlyn Dunnett Read Free Book Online Page B

dozen different bears, and—”
    Lovey FitzPatrick’s face turned bright red. “A dozen! That rotten liar!” Clutching the bag with the kilted bear and the candle, she stormed out of the Emporium.
    Through the plate glass of the display window, Liss watched her sail back across the street and into Gavin Thorne’s store. “Good luck to you both,” she murmured.
    This time when Liss locked up, she also turned out the lights. She wasn’t done for the day. Not by a long shot. She still had the next stage of the pageant to run. But she was through dealing with crazed customers until tomorrow.
    A raucous shout of “Bring me my tea!” from the stockroom made her jump. Her hand to her heart, she fought the urge to reply. Yelling “Get your own damn tea!” would have no effect, not when the one demanding service was a parrot.
    Liss entered the stockroom, her nose wrinkling at the smell of chicken manure. If she’d realized before she started this that she’d have to clean crates and cages, she’d have…done the same thing. With a sigh, she set to work cleaning, feeding, and watering. Chicken mash, she’d discovered, also had its own distinctive odor. It wasn’t unpleasant exactly, but she wouldn’t forget what it smelled like anytime soon.
    The doves came with their own individual carrying cages. The chickens were in an oversized wooden crate that took up the rest of the space on top of the Emporium’s worktable. The cages of the four “calling birds”—played by pet parrots borrowed from all over the county—hung from every convenient hook.
    “Okay, boys and girls,” Liss told them when she’d finished with the chickens. “Your turn.”
    Parrots seemed to be somewhat cleaner in their habits, and they were certainly prettier to look at. Still, they came with their own set of problems. For one thing, they had to be kept warm, a tricky proposition with a pageant that was being held outdoors.
    They also talked.
    It had been the blue and yellow parrot who’d wanted tea. Winston. She gave old Winston some seeds and refilled his water dish. The mostly yellow one—Claudine—appeared to be sleeping. Liss hoped she was sleeping. Visions of reliving parts of the dead parrot sketch from Monty Python’s Flying Circus danced in her head. The third parrot, Augustus, was mostly red. He gave her an evil leer as he sidled back and forth on his perch.
    The fourth parrot was named Polly. She was green. She watched with ill-disguised mistrust as Liss put out food and water. Liss latched the door to Polly’s cage when she’d finished, but didn’t cover it. She planned to leave the lights on for the birds, too. She’d come back to collect them in an hour or so for the ceremony, after which they’d go back to their owners until the pageant a week from Sunday.
    “Polly want a cracker,” Polly said in decidedly cranky tone of voice.
    “That is so clichéd!” About to leave the stockroom, Liss turned to look back at the bird. “Besides, I don’t have any crackers.”
    “Polly hungry,” the parrot screeched, sounding even more irritable than before. “Gimme the f___ing cracker!”

Chapter Four
    B e careful what you wish for, Sherri Willett thought on Sunday evening as she directed yet another out-of-state car toward the parking lot behind the grocery store. Shoppers had come to Moosetookalook, all right, and they’d brought their bad manners with them.
    The town selectmen, Jason Graye in particular, were up in arms. The invaders were so desperate to lay hands on the one toy every child must find under the tree this year, or to score collectibles for themselves, that they had wrecked lawns by parking on them, created traffic jams, and even engaged in fistfights.
    Things became quieter once darkness fell—thankfully early at this time of year—but the need for a visible police presence had everyone in the department working overtime. Sherri had barely seen her son all weekend. It wasn’t that she didn’t