The Gingerbread Bump-Off (30 page)

Sam shook his head. “What if other people with the tour saw Winthrop at the same time Miz Hallerbee was bein’ attacked?”

Phyllis thought back to everything she had heard and read about the Jingle Bell Tour. She called up an image of the list Laura Kearns had given her. That list had been arranged in the running order of the tour stops.

“The tour began fairly close to our house,” she said. “And remember, Georgia was attacked
before
the tour started. People would have just been showing up and getting ready then. Laura was probably the only one who said that Winthrop was there the whole time. Nobody else would have noticed whether or not he was gone for ten minutes or so . . . but that would have been long enough for him to intercept Georgia and smash that gingerbread man over her head.”

Sam nodded slowly. “Maybe. It sounds like it could be true.”

“But so did the case against Joe Henning and the Kearnses, I know,” Phyllis said. “But this theory has Winthrop’s slipup at the cemetery on its side.”

“Yeah, I heard him say that, too,” Sam mused. “And you’re right, there was nothing in the paper about the killer usin’ the gingerbread man to kill Miz Hallerbee. That ought to be enough to convict him right there.”

“I was hoping Detective Latimer would be here by now so we could tell him about it. Winthrop and Laura are both here. He could confront them about it, maybe break down Winthrop’s alibi.”

“What about Laura’s alibi?”

Phyllis shook her head. “She couldn’t have picked up that gingerbread man like that. Winthrop is big enough and strong enough that he could.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that.”

“She’s part of it, though. There’s no doubt about that.” Phyllis leaned forward in the seat. “Wait a minute. I see somebody moving around in there.”

Two figures came up to the door, inside the office. Laura Kearns was first. She twisted the lock and pushed the door open. Carl Winthrop came up behind her and stepped past her to leave. He paused, though, and leaned back into the office to give Laura a kiss. One of her arms went around the back of his neck and held him there for a moment.

“Well, I reckon maybe we’re lookin’ at a motive,” Sam said.

“I think so, too. Winthrop and Laura are having an affair. Georgia found out about it and threatened to tell Rusty Kearns or Winthrop’s wife or maybe both of them.”

“You think somebody would commit murder over something like that, this day and age?”

“People have before . . . Oh, no.”

Winthrop had broken the kiss and turned around, and his gaze went across the parking lot and focused like a laser on the pickup as he looked through the windshield at Phyllis and Sam.

“He saw us,” Sam said.

“Yes. But what’s he going to do about it?”

Winthrop said something to Laura, then started across the parking lot toward the pickup.

Sam reached for his door handle. “Stay in here. Lock the doors. Call the cops again.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Phyllis said. She had her door open and was stepping out of the car before Sam could stop her. As she stepped out of the pickup, she reached down into her open purse and thumbed 911 on her phone. She left the door open a few inches and rested one hand on it.

“Hello, Carl,” she said with a smile.

“Mrs. Newsom,” he greeted her. A suspicious frown creased his forehead. “What are you doing here?”

“I just came by to wish Laura a Merry Christmas,” Phyllis said. Laura had followed Winthrop and came up alongside him now. Phyllis smiled at her and went on, “Hello, dear.”

“I don’t know what you think you just saw,” Laura said, “but it wasn’t what it looked like, I swear.”

Phyllis tried to put a puzzled look on her face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Laura.”

“Carl just gave me a hug to comfort me because of all I’ve been through, and to congratulate me on taking over the business. That’s all it was, I—”

“Stop it,” Carl said, his voice hardening. “She knows. We knew she’d try to figure it out. Hell, we counted on it. She finally realized what I said wrong at the cemetery. I didn’t catch myself quick enough when I slipped up.” He angled his head toward the office. “Tell your friend Sam to get out of the truck. We’re going back inside.”

“Carl,” Laura began, “we can’t—”

Winthrop was still smiling, but his eyes were cold and dead. “Come on, Mrs. Newsom,” he said as he came a step closer to Phyllis.

“You can’t kill us,” Phyllis warned him. “You’d never get away with it.”

“I never said anything about killing anybody. We’ll work this out—”

Phyllis knew better, though. She had seen what happened when rage boiled up in Carl Winthrop. She had seen the bloody evidence of it on her own front porch. If he got her and Sam inside the office, where no one could see, then anything was liable to happen.

“No,” she said. “We won’t work anything out.”

And with that she shoved the pickup door at Winthrop, smashing it into him as hard as she could.

The impact drove Winthrop back a couple of steps. His face contorted with fury as he caught himself. By that time, Sam was out of the pickup and moving fast, circling the front of the vehicle to get between Winthrop and Phyllis. Winthrop swung a punch that Sam ducked. Sam grabbed him, struggling to pin Winthrop’s arms to his sides. Winthrop was younger, heavier, and stronger, though, and shrugged out of Sam’s grip.

With a screech of tires, an unmarked police car with lights flashing roared into the parking lot and skidded to a stop. Warren Latimer was out of the car almost before it stopped moving. He tackled Winthrop from behind, driving him to the pavement. Winthrop yelled in surprise and pain as he landed face-first. That stunned him long enough for Latimer to yank his arms behind him and secure them with a plastic restraint around his wrists. Then Latimer pinned Winthrop to the ground with a knee in the small of his back and looked up at Phyllis.

“You see what happens when you keep sticking your nose into things?” he demanded.

“I’ll tell you what happens,” Sam said. He pointed at Winthrop, who had stopped struggling. “You catch a killer—that’s what.”

Chapter 29

C
hief Ralph Whitmire sat in on the interview at the police station as Latimer took Phyllis and Sam through everything that had happened. Phyllis could tell that the chief wasn’t happy, but he didn’t say anything and let Latimer ask the questions. Phyllis explained how she had figured out that Carl Winthrop had killed Georgia. When she had finished explaining her reasoning, she said, “I don’t know exactly why they decided that Georgia had to die, but I’m sure it had something to do with the fact that they’ve been having an affair. I don’t know how they came up with the idea of framing Chris Cochran for the murder, either.”

“You let us worry about that—,” Latimer began, but Chief Whitmire spoke up, interrupting him.

“Laura Kearns has given us a full statement, Mrs. Newsom. She was pretty quick to turn on Winthrop and try to save herself. The affair was part of it. Ms. Hallerbee was going to tell Rusty Kearns about it, along with Winthrop’s wife. It had more to do with the fact that Winthrop had been stealing from some of his money-management clients, though, and Ms. Hallerbee discovered that as well. She threatened to ruin Winthrop all the way around.”

Phyllis shook her head. “That sounds almost . . . vindictive.”

“Oh, it was, I suppose,” Whitmire said with a nod. “Georgia Hallerbee was mad to start with because Winthrop dropped
her
and took up with Laura Kearns instead.”

Phyllis’s eyes widened. “You mean Georgia and Winthrop .  . . ?”

“Yeah. That’s what Laura Kearns said, anyway. Sorry if you would have rather not known that.”

Phyllis shook her head. She had said all along that the murder had been a crime of passion, and in a way she’d been right. The feelings left over between ex-lovers had contributed to it. And at one point she had speculated that there might be more than friendship between Georgia and Winthrop, she reminded herself.

“How about the Cochran kid?” Sam asked. He sat with his right ankle cocked on his left knee. “How did they know he wouldn’t be at his folks’ house on the night of the Jingle Bell Tour?”

“According to Laura, they decided a couple of days earlier to get rid of Ms. Hallerbee. Winthrop was at the hospital, talking to Dr. Charles Cochran. Winthrop handled some of his money, too. Chris Cochran happened to be there, and Winthrop overheard him talking on his cell phone to that friend of his, Nelson Blake. They were making plans to hit that strip club in Fort Worth on the night of the tour. Chris thought it was funny because he knew his parents wanted him to be home that night. Winthrop realized then that Chris wouldn’t have an alibi, and he came up with the idea of killing Georgia that night and setting things up so it looked like Chris would have a motive. Laura took some papers out to the Cochran ranch and dropped them off, but nothing else happened. Laura concocted the story about Chris trying to rape her.”

“By waiting, they were taking a chance that Georgia wouldn’t go ahead and reveal the affair and Winthrop’s embezzling,” Phyllis said.

Whitmire shook his head. “No, Georgia had told them that she wouldn’t say anything until after the tour was over. She wanted Winthrop to break it off with Laura and come back to her. She thought the embezzlement business was the lever she needed to make it happen.” The chief paused. “It was a gamble, and it got her killed instead.”

Latimer didn’t look happy. “No offense, Chief,” he said, “but all this is going to come out at the trials. I’m not sure it’s a good idea to be telling these civilians all about it.”

“If these civilians hadn’t pushed Winthrop into panicking, and if Mrs. Newsom hadn’t put that 911 call through so we could hear what was going on, Winthrop and Kearns would have lawyered up and we probably wouldn’t have been able to shake their stories enough to convict them. Now we’ve got a pretty good shot at it, thanks to Mrs. Newsom and Mr. Fletcher, and I’m confident we can trust them not to compromise our case.” Whitmire gave Phyllis a hard stare. “But really, this needs to stop. One of these days, your luck’s going to run out, and I don’t want that to happen. Neither does anybody else who knows you.”

“I called Detective Latimer before we went to Georgia’s office,” Phyllis pointed out. “I wouldn’t have confronted Winthrop if he hadn’t spotted us. Even then, I tried to make him think I didn’t suspect him so we could get away from there.”

“Well, the best way to protect yourself from murderers is to stop trying to catch them. Consider that a friendly warning.”

Judging by the glare Latimer was giving them, he was warning her, too, Phyllis thought . . . but it wasn’t as friendly as the one Chief Whitmire had just issued.

“Do you need us for anything else?” she asked.

Whitmire glanced at Latimer, who shook his head and said, “We’ll get your statements typed up and you can come by and sign them later.” He sighed. “Just don’t get into any more trouble between now and then, okay?”

“I’m going to a bridal shower,” Phyllis said. “How could I possibly get into any trouble there?”

 

Recipes

Topping
1 cup white sugar
1 cup evaporated milk
½ cup butter
3 egg yolks, beaten
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1½ cups flaked coconut
1½ cups chopped pecans
3 squares German sweet chocolate bar, grated

 

 

Cookie
1 (18.25-ounce) package German chocolate cake mix
¼ cup all-purpose flour
⅓ cup butter, melted

 

 

For the topping, in a heavy 2-quart saucepan, combine the sugar, milk, butter, and egg yolks. Blend well. Cook over medium heat for 10 to 13 minutes or until thickened and bubbly, stirring frequently. Stir in the vanilla, coconut, and pecans. Remove from the heat, and cool to room temperature. Reserve 1 cup of the topping mixture.

 

Preheat the oven to 350°F. Grease cookie sheets or mini muffin pans.

 

Stir the grated German chocolate into the reseved topping, and set aside.

 

For the cookies, in a large bowl, combine the cake mix, flour, melted butter, and remaining topping mixture. Stir by hand until thoroughly moistened. Shape the dough into 1-inch balls. Place the balls 2 inches apart on an ungreased cookie sheet or place them in mini muffin pans. Using your thumb, make an indention in the center of each ball. Fill each indention with ½ teaspoon of the reserved topping.

 

Bake for 12 to 14 minutes. Allow the cookies to cool on the baking sheet or in the mini muffin pan for 5 minutes before removing to a wire rack to cool completely.

 

½ cup butter, at room temperature
½ cup cashew butter
½ cup granulated sugar
1 egg
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1½ cups all-purpose flour
1 cup salted cashews, chopped into large pieces
1 cup (6 ounces) semisweet chocolate morsels
1 teaspoon vegetable shortening

 

 

Preheat the oven to 350°F.

 

In a large bowl, beat the butter and cashew butter until creamy. Add the sugar gradually, beating well. Beat in the egg and vanilla. Add the flour and mix by hand until well blended.

 

Drop the dough by tablespoonfuls about 2 inches apart on an ungreased cookie sheet. I prefer to use parchment paper on the pans. Flatten each ball of dough lightly with fingers or the bottom of a floured glass. Press chopped nuts generously onto the tops of the cookies.

 

Bake for 14 to 16 minutes or until cookies are lightly browned.