The men tended to the outside decorations while the women congregated inside, hanging garlands, placing ornaments on the big artificial tree that was set up in the living room, and decorating the smaller live trees on the porch. They would suddenly think of something they had at home that would work perfectly and would hurry to get it. Phyllis had Sarah and Helen in the kitchen with the kids, making gingerbread men decorations with the cinnamon she bought at Sam’s Club. She knew they would make the perfect final touch to the big tree and would make the house smell wonderful. The decorations were coming together beautifully. She moved back and forth, supervising all aspects of the operation.
And that was what it was like, she thought, a military operation with people working in different areas on different jobs but all pulling together in a common effort. She was lucky to have so many friends and so much help. Although there was a part of her that would have liked to do it all herself, she knew she couldn’t have managed in the time that was left before the Jingle Bell Tour.
Carolyn found her and showed her the outfits she had made for the gingerbread men. “What do you think of them?”
“I think they’re wonderful,” Phyllis replied honestly. “They’re going to be so cute. Are you finished with them?”
Carolyn nodded. “Yes, I think they’re ready to go on the gingerbread men.”
“Come on, then. Let’s do that right now.”
They carried the clothes out onto the porch. Carolyn looked back and forth between the gingerbread men and asked, “Which one is Santa and which one is Mrs. Claus?”
“I don’t suppose it really matters, but I think the one on the right would make a good Mrs. Gingerbread Claus. Let’s put the Santa suit on the one on the left.”
The suit was pretty simple: a red cap with a white, fuzzy ball on the end, a red suit trimmed with white fur, and a fake white beard that tied on under the gingerbread man’s chin. What really made the outfit was the small bag of toys the gingerbread Santa had attached to the jacket. When Phyllis and Carolyn had everything in place, they stepped back to study the results.
“It’s adorable,” Carolyn said.
“It certainly is,” Phyllis agreed.
The outfit for Mrs. Claus included a red velvet dress, an apron, a gray wig, and a mobcap. Denise and Parker Johannson came running over while Phyllis and Carolyn were finishing, and Denise clapped and squealed in delight when she saw the dressed-up gingerbread men next to the little trees decorated in red and white balls with red and white ribbon bows on top. Parker, being a boy, was too cool to display his emotions so openly, but he grinned with pleasure and said, “Are we going to put the gingerbread men decorations we made on these trees?”
Phyllis had thought they would just use them on the big tree inside, but she had to admit, it would be cute to have some on the little trees next to Mr. and Mrs. Gingerbread Claus. She smiled and said, “What a wonderful idea, Parker.”
“Lookin’ mighty good,” Sam commented as he came by with his arms full of lights.
“Yes, I can’t wait for Georgia to see the gingerbread couple,” Phyllis said, “since it was her idea and all.”
But that would have to wait, because Phyllis didn’t expect Georgia to come by again until the day of the tour. They had traded a couple of e-mails during the week, Phyllis assuring her friend that everything was under control and the house would be ready for visitors on Tuesday evening.
And between now and then there was still a lot of work to do, she told herself, so she had better get back to it.
Chapter 5
“ D
id you ever think you’d get it all done in time?” Sam asked.
“Of course I did,” Phyllis answered without hesitation. “There was never a doubt in my mind; otherwise, I wouldn’t have agreed to do it.”
But deep down she knew that wasn’t quite true. On numerous occasions during the past week, there had been plenty of doubt in her mind, and she had asked herself why she had been so crazy as to tell Georgia Hallerbee that she would take part in the tour. At those moments, Phyllis had done what she always did on such occasions.
She kept working.
And now it was done. Finished. Ready. Although the outside lights weren’t switched on yet, Christmas carols already played loudly on the sound system set up in the front yard. In about an hour and a half, the visitors on the Christmas Jingle Bell Tour of Homes would begin to arrive.
They had been lucky when it came to the weather, Phyllis knew. Sometimes it rained quite a bit during December, but the skies had remained clear while the preparations were going on. And according to all the forecasts she had heard and read, tonight was supposed to be a cool, clear, very pleasant evening, perfect for the Jingle Bell Tour. Of course, if it had been raining the tour organizers simply would have postponed it, but this was better. Phyllis was caught up in the enthusiasm of getting ready, and having to postpone the event itself would have been a letdown.
She walked around the house, double-checking the decorations. She prowled into the kitchen, where plates of cookies sat on the counter. She and Carolyn had already submitted their recipes for the contest, taking the printed-out recipes and plates of samples to the newspaper office to be judged. Everyone who worked there, from the editor to the clerk at the counter, had grinned in anticipation when they saw the two of them coming in, knowing that the cookies Phyllis and Carolyn baked were always good.
So the recipes were no longer a secret. Phyllis had baked several batches of her German chocolate cookies and even experimented on a new nutty cashew butter and chocolate cookie that she thought was pretty good. She might have to use it in a future contest. Carolyn contributed her gingerbread-boy cookies, which Phyllis had to admit were awfully good and not so spicy that they would turn kids off. Each of them had made cookies using recipes from previous contests, as well. Phyllis looked at the plate of lime snowflake cookies and was reminded again of what had happened two Christmases past. She took a deep breath, pushed those thoughts out of her head, and set up a pair of coffeemakers with wonderfully scented coffee. While the cookies were baking earlier, she had made a quick batch of chocolate mint coffee stirrers using plastic spoons, mint chocolate chips, and crushed candy canes. A large pot of winter cranberry cider was staying warm on the stove. Paper cups, plates, and napkins were set up, ready to serve. Satisfied that everything was as it should be, she went back to the living room.
Sam and Carolyn were sitting there. Carolyn said, “Goodness, you’re as nervous as a cat, Phyllis. There’s no need to be worried. Everything is going to be fine. You’ve done a spectacular job getting ready for this.”
“I had a lot of help,” Phyllis said. “I never could have done it without the two of you, and a lot of other people, too.”
“It’ll be worth all the trouble when you see those folks oohin’ and aahin’ over all the decorations and all of these cookies,” Sam said.
“I hope so.”
“When are they supposed to get here?” Carolyn asked.
“About seven thirty, Georgia said. This is the third house on the tour.”
“And the best one,” Sam declared.
“I don’t really care about that. I just want people to be pleased with what they see.”
“They will be; don’t you worry about that.”
Eve came downstairs and joined them in the living room, looking around as she asked, “Is Roy here yet? He said he’d be back by the time the tour started.”
“I haven’t seen him,” Phyllis said. “But it’s only six forty-five.” The doorbell rang, and she smiled. “That’s probably him now.”
Eve had just sat down, and although she started to get up, Phyllis gestured for her to stay where she was.
“I’m already on my feet. I’ll let him in. Sam, would you go ahead and turn on the outside lights so I can see how they look?”
“Sure,” he said. With his usual long-legged stride, he headed for the kitchen. The power strip and surge protector that controlled all the outside lights was just outside the kitchen door in the garage. One flip of its main switch would turn on the rest of the lights and decorations.
Phyllis went the other way up the hall toward the front door. As she approached it she heard a loud crash from outside that made her heart thump with worry and surprise. Her first thought was that the set of plastic reindeer, along with the attached sleigh, had come loose on the roof and fallen to the ground. She hurried forward, grasped the doorknob, and pulled the door open.
At that moment, Sam hit the switch on the power strip in the garage, turning on the outside lights.
The glare really was a little dazzling, Phyllis had to admit, especially when the lights first came on and her eyes hadn’t had the chance to adjust to them. She instinctively lifted a hand and said, “Roy?”
But Roy wasn’t standing there. No one was. For a second, Phyllis thought that someone had rung her doorbell and then run off, the classic prank that neighborhood children used to play before they all became too ironic and postmodern for such innocent high jinks.
Then she saw the dark, huddled shape lying on the front porch.
“Oh, my God!” she cried as she threw open the storm door and rushed out past the giant wreath hung on the wooden door. The storm door bumped the person lying on the porch. Shards of shattered ceramic crunched under Phyllis’s feet. The glow from the white icicle lights washed over the crumpled shape, and the multihued lights on the decorations in the yard cast brilliantly colored slashes of illumination over the scene. Phyllis’s eyes widened in shock and horror as she gazed down at the body of a woman surrounded by the broken remains of the gingerbread man that had been dressed as Mrs. Claus.
It took only a second for that ghastly sight to soak into her. Then she opened her mouth and screamed.
Sam’s footsteps pounded up the hall behind her as he ran to see what was wrong. He reached Phyllis a second before Carolyn and Eve did and grasped her shoulders as she stood in the open doorway.
“What is it, Phyllis? Are you all right?”
“Is something wrong with some of the decorations?” Carolyn asked from behind him, unable to see what had provoked Phyllis’s reaction.
Phyllis turned and huddled sideways against Sam. She pointed a shaking finger at the woman on the porch.
“Good Lord,” Sam muttered.
Carolyn and Eve crowded up where they could see, and both of them uttered shocked exclamations. “Who is that?” Carolyn asked.
Sam turned and eased Phyllis behind him. Carolyn put an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll see,” Sam said as he carefully stepped out onto the porch.
Phyllis’s brain was starting to work again after those first few seconds of stunned disbelief. “Don’t move her, Sam,” she warned. “If she’s still alive, we could hurt her even worse.”
“I’m going to call 911,” Eve said.
Sam circled the woman, moved onto the top step, and knelt there so he could reach out and rest a couple of fingers on her neck. “She’s alive,” he said after a couple of seconds. “She’s got a pulse.”
“Do you know her?” Phyllis asked.
“Yeah,” Sam replied, his voice grim. “It’s that lady you introduced me to last week . . . Miz Hallerbee.”
“Oh, my God,” Phyllis said again. “Georgia!”
Georgia Hallerbee didn’t stir, though. She lay there motionless, completely unconscious.
Phyllis saw the blood in Georgia’s hair and on the porch under her head. It was obvious what had happened here. Someone had picked up that gingerbread man and used it as a weapon to attack Georgia, smashing it over her head with brutal force. Phyllis had
heard
it happen as she was approaching the door.
That meant the attacker had been right here on her front porch, barely a minute ago.
“Sam,” she said with urgency in her voice. “I think you should come back over here.”
He looked up at her. “I know what you’re thinkin’. The fella who did this could still be close by somewhere. I ought to take a look around—”
“No!” she said as he came to his feet. “Anybody who would do a thing like this wouldn’t hesitate to hurt you, too. Leave it to the police.”
“They’ll be here soon,” Eve said from inside the house. “An ambulance, too.”
That was when they heard sirens wailing, the sounds cutting sharply through the crisp, clear evening air.
The ambulance arrived first, skidding to a stop at the curb a couple of minutes later. Two paramedics got out, not running but moving swiftly, not wasting any time. They trotted up the walk, through the wash of lights. As they came up the steps, Sam moved away from Georgia Hallerbee to give them room.
“What happened?” one of the EMTs asked as he knelt beside Georgia. “Did that thing fall off the roof and hit her?”
Phyllis exchanged a glance with Sam. “We’re not really sure,” she said. “This is the way we found her.”
“That statue wouldn’t have been on the roof, Jerry,” the other paramedic said. “Look, it’s part of a pair. She must have tripped and hit her head on it when she fell.”
“That wouldn’t have busted it up like that,” Jerry replied as he checked Georgia’s pulse. “The cops better get here soon. I don’t think we should move her until they have a look at the scene.”
Phyllis agreed with that in principle, but she also wanted Georgia taken care of. With a head injury like that, her life could easily be at stake.
A vehicle screeched to a halt behind the ambulance with its flashing lights, but it wasn’t a Weatherford police cruiser. Instead it was an SUV, and Roy Porter leaped out of it in such a hurry that he left the door open behind him.
“Eve!” he called as he ran across the yard toward the porch, dodging around the Grinch and some Whos. “Oh, Lord, is Eve all right?”
“I’m here, Roy!” she called to him, lifting herself on her toes and leaning over so she could look around the crowd of people. “I’m fine!”