The Mystery Before Christmas

Preview

At what point does a concerned bystander become a stalker?

I’d been asking myself that a lot lately. I’d first met Star Moonwalker six weeks ago, when I’d stopped by her antique store during my route as a US Postal Service carrier to deliver a certified letter. After a brief discussion, in which the woman revealed to me that she’d first moved to White Eagle to search for her birth parents, I’d discovered that she was most likely my half sister. I’d also discovered that the man she’d hired to track down her biological parents, a private investigator named Sam Denton, very well might have been killed by a man I suspected could be my own father.

Of course, my father being the killer was not the only explanation. It was also possible that Sam Denton had been killed by the same people who were after my father, forcing him to fake his own death fifteen years ago. Either way, I suspected that Star might be in danger because she had continued to dig around in my father’s past even after Denton’s death, so I’d been keeping an eye on her, hence the stalking.

Not that Star had been aware that I’d been watching her or digging into her past. I’d been very covert in my approach. I’d started by having my boyfriend, Tony Marconi, do a very quiet computer search into her history, while I began spending time in the woman’s antique store, trying to get to know her better. I still didn’t know everything I needed to about the events that occurred at the time of Star’s birth, so I’d been unable to conclusively determine that she and I shared the same biological father, but it did appear as if my father had been traveling with Star’s mother at the time immediately preceding her birth.

“Tess Thomas?” the woman on the other end of the phone line asked.

“Yes, this is Tess.” I’d been sitting in my car on hold for a good fifteen minutes, waiting to hear the results of the DNA tests I’d mailed away several weeks before.

“The two samples that you sent do not indicate a familial link.”

I narrowed my eyes. “So the individuals who supplied the two samples are not related?”

“The genetic profiles of the individuals providing the samples demonstrate that it is statistically unlikely a blood relationship exists. A detailed report will be sent to the address you provided within a week. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“No. Thank you.” I hung up and then turned and looked at my dog, Tilly, who’d been waiting patiently with me. “Well, what do you know about that?”

Tilly shoved her nose into my lap. I looked back toward the house where I’d discovered Star lived. I’d been so certain that she was my half sister that I’d actually dug through her garbage to retrieve a piece of chewing gum I’d seen her throw away to gain a sample of her DNA that I could have compared to my own. At that time I’d thought the DNA test would simply serve as a confirmation of what I was sure I already knew. How could I have been so wrong?

I focused on the colorful Christmas lights Star had hung along the eaves and around the door and windows as the interior light in a downstairs room went off. A half minute later, a light in one of the upstairs rooms went on. I’d decided the room on the second story at the front of the house must be some sort of workroom or office. Star spent a lot of time in that room when she was home. I slowly stroked Tilly’s head as I watched a shadow move across the room. I supposed I really should go before someone noticed me sitting out here. I’d been so sure that Star was my half sister that I’d never even stopped to consider an alternate explanation as to what had occurred when she’d been abandoned by a man I was sure was my father.

I pulled my seat belt across my chest but hesitated to start the engine. The snow that had been threatening all day had begun to fall. I knew I should head home, yet I hesitated. I certainly didn’t know everything there was to know about Star’s past, but what I did had seemed to support my sister theory. Three years ago, after her adoptive parents passed away, Star had hired Denton to find her birth parents. Through his research, the private investigator found evidence that suggested that Star had been surrendered to a church when she was just hours old. He’d followed up on this evidence and was able to confirm that a man had left the baby with a nun after informing her that the baby’s mother had died and she needed a home. The nun had tried to get additional information about the baby and her parents from the man, but he’d refused to answer any questions. Once the baby was safely in the nun’s arms, he left. Star had been adopted by wonderful parents and hadn’t looked back until after they died.

During his investigation, Denton found out that on the same day Star had been dropped off at the church in Great Falls, Montana, a woman was found shot to death in Buffalo, Wyoming. It was noted in the police report filed after her death that the victim had recently given birth. The detective in charge of the murder case looked for the baby in Wyoming, but the infant was never found. For reasons unknown to me, the investigator did not look for the baby outside that state, so the link to Star was never discovered.

That is, until Denton came along and put two and two together. After Star realized that the woman who was shot was most likely her biological mother, and that her mother had met with a violent end, she’d decided to give up the idea of searching for answers about her past. She’d paid off the PI and asked him not to look for her father.

A couple of years later, the same PI was asked by a totally different client to find proof that a man who had been living under an alias for years and who everyone believed to be dead, was actually still alive. During the course of his backtracking to figure out what had really happened to that guy, Denton came across the report filed by the detective who’d been assigned to investigate the murder of the woman who’d been shot in Buffalo just prior to Star being left at the church in Great Falls. Denton realized immediately that the woman mentioned in the report was the same one he believed was Star’s mother, and that was when it occurred to me that the man Denton had been hired to find was could be my father.

That was confirmed in my mind when Star told me that the owner of the apartment building her biological mother had been staying in when she was shot had identified the man traveling with her was the same man who had dropped off the baby at the church. Star had a copy of the driver’s license of that man, and the photo on it was that of a young Grant Thomas, my father, though the name on it was Grant Tucker, a name Tony and I already suspected he’d used as an alias at one point in his life.

“So Grant Tucker, aka Grant Thomas, was traveling with Star’s biological mother but was not her biological father? Why?” I asked Tilly.

She licked my cheek in reply.

I looked down when my phone dinged, indicating I had a text. It was from Tony, wondering what time I’d be home for dinner. I texted back, letting him know I’d had a stop to make but would be home shortly. Once that was accomplished, I turned my attention back to Tilly.

“I suppose it is possible that Star’s mother was in some sort of trouble and was on the run from whoever eventually shot her.” I let that idea roll around in my mind a bit. “I also suppose that Dad could have been with her to help her escape. Maybe he was a friend of Star’s biological mother, or maybe he was some sort of bodyguard.” I’d suspected for a while that my dad might work, or at least have worked in the past, for some sort of government agency, such as the CIA.

I hated to think that my father had killed Denton, but he had gone to a lot of trouble to disappear fifteen years ago and the PI had done a heck of a good job tracking him down. Denton had even managed to provide recent photos of my dad for the man who’d hired him. I knew my dad would not have taken kindly to that.

When Tony and I had tried to track Dad down, we’d met with a ton of resistance, culminating in his rare appearance to tell me to back off. As I thought back on that encounter, I had to admit that he’d seemed more scared than angry. He’d told me that not only had my search put him in danger, but it also put Mom, my brother Mike, and me in danger as well. I still had no idea why Dad needed to appear to be dead, but I’d been researching him for long enough to know that the people around him tended to die, so maybe he’d been justified in his concern.

Tilly put a paw on my lap and I looked into her big brown eyes. It was late and the snow was getting harder. I knew we should head home before Tony began to worry about us. I put my hand on the ignition as a dark blue sedan pulled into Star’s driveway. A tall man, dressed casually in a black leather jacket and denim pants, got out and headed to the front door. I realized that Star might have a date. I didn’t recognize the guy, but I also couldn’t really see his face; the sun set early at this time of the year, so even though it was only around six o’clock, it was already pitch dark. I decided to wait to start my vehicle because I didn’t want to draw attention to myself. I figured the man would either go inside or Star would come out and they’d both leave together. I watched as the front porch light went on. Star opened the door, said something, and then fell to the ground. Immediately afterward, the man returned to his car and drove off.

“Did that man just shoot Star?” I asked Tilly. I opened my car door just as the vehicle that had been parked in Star’s drive pulled away. I ran across the street toward the still-open front door. Star lay lifeless across the threshold. “Oh God.” I pulled out my cell and called Mike, who was a cop. “There’s been a shooting,” I informed him. “It’s Star Moonwalker.” I provided the address and told him to hurry.

Mike instructed me to stay put, so I did. I could see that Star was dead, but I felt for a pulse just to be sure, then I called Tilly and walked away from the body. I didn’t want to leave Star alone, but I knew better than to do anything to contaminate the crime scene, so I walked toward the far end of the porch and sat down.

In that moment, I wasn’t sure what to do. What to feel. On one hand, until minutes before she’d been shot, I’d believed Star to be my half sister, which had created a false sense of connection between us. On the other hand, I’d only met her about six weeks earlier and didn’t know her all that well. I supposed once the shock wore off I’d be able to sort out my mixed emotions. Right now, profound grief was all tied up with fear, disbelief, and most of all anger. Someone had killed an innocent woman whose seemingly only crime had been curiosity about her birth parents. Star had been a nice woman with a natural presence, a calm manner, and a casual style, reminiscent of the flower children of the 1960s. There certainly didn’t seem as if anything could be gained by killing her, and yet someone had.

Despite the fact that I’d been too far away to get a good look at the man who’d pulled up, rung the doorbell, and killed Star, I was pretty sure it had not been my father. This man was tall, as was my father, but my dad had broad shoulders and this man had appeared to be so thin as to be described as wiry. Of course, the fact that my father had most likely not been the gunman himself didn’t mean this man hadn’t been hired to do it by the man I’d once called dad.

I let my mind drift to the man I now think of as a ghost. Grant Thomas was officially deceased, so while that meant he no longer lived, he wasn’t really dead either. Prior to Tony uncovering a photo of my father taken three years after his supposed death, I honestly believed that he’d been killed in a truck accident when I was fourteen. I’m not sure why my mind hadn’t accepted the fact that my father was dead, but there had always been a part of me that fantasized that the man who was burned so badly as to be unidentifiable was not actually the same man I knew as my father. Tony, being the genius he was even back then, agreed to dig around. It had taken him twelve years to find the photo, but once he had proof of life after the accident, I’d grabbed onto the mystery and hadn’t let go of it ever since. Of course, the more I dug, the more I learned and the more disturbed I became.

I watched as Mike pulled up along the street in front of the house. He headed up the front steps, knelt down in front of the body to check for a pulse, and then looked in my direction. “Are you okay?”

I nodded.

“What happened?”

I hesitated. I couldn’t very well tell my brother that I’d been watching this woman from across the street without going into a lot more explanation than I was willing to at this point, so I told him that I’d been driving by, heard a gunshot, saw a blue sedan pull away from the house, and had gone to check it out, which is when I saw the woman stretched out dead across the threshold.

“Did you know this woman?” Mike asked.

“Sort of. As I said, her name is Star Moonwalker. She owns an antique store in town. I deliver mail to her sometimes, and when I have time I stop in and look around while I am there. We chat while I look, so in a way you could say we knew each other.”

Mike took out his handheld radio and spoke to Frank Hudson, his second in command. He confirmed that the coroner was on the way, and then he returned his attention to me. “I need to process the scene and see to the removal of the body. I am going to want to ask you some additional questions then. If you’d like, I can come by your cabin to talk to you when I’m done here.”

I nodded. “Okay. That sounds good. It is getting pretty cold.”

“Can you describe the person who drove away from the scene?”

“Male. Tall. Black leather jacket, denim pants. It was dark, so I didn’t see his face.”

“And the car?”

“A blue sedan. A Ford, I think, but I’m not sure. I do know it was one of those midsize sedans. I didn’t notice the license plate, I’m afraid. The whole thing happened so fast that it seems it was over before I knew to pay attention.”

“And you were just driving by?” Mike asked.

I glanced at the ground and nodded. I could see that Mike didn’t believe me, and I knew he wasn’t going to let this go, but Frank pulled up just then, so Mike walked Tilly and me back across the street to my Jeep. He opened the door and Tilly jumped up. I slid in after her.

“I’ll be by when I can. In the meantime, I want you to write down everything you can remember,” Mike instructed through the open driver’s side window as I adjusted my seat belt.

“Okay.”

“And Tess—”

I took a chance and looked him in the eye. “Yeah?”

“When I come by, I’m going to want the rest of the story.”

I swallowed and nodded. He kissed me on the cheek, then stepped away. He closed the door, and I started the ignition and pulled away.

Mike knew that Dad was still alive. I’d finally broken down and told him a year ago. But he didn’t know the rest. The part I’d been keeping from him. I wasn’t exactly sure how he’d react, but I knew him well enough to be sure he wasn’t going to be happy about any of it. I supposed I knew that one day I’d have to confess everything; I just hadn’t realized when I’d left work for the weekend that that day was today.

As I drove toward the cabin where Tony, his dog Titan, and my cats Tang and Tinder were waiting, I felt my stress level increase dramatically. I supposed it might be the result of delayed reaction from the shooting, but I supposed it could also have been heightened by my impending conversation with Mike. I knew it was going to be unpleasant. The truth of the matter was that I’d known our dad was alive a full year before I’d even brought Mike in on the secret. Mike was a good guy and I trusted him implicitly, but he was also pretty intense. He tended to act before thinking when it came to protecting the people he loved, so I rightfully feared he’d only make things worse if he knew our father was still alive and kicking in the world.

Of course, even after I’d shared with Mike the proof Tony and I had found of the existence of the man we both thought had died years before, I hadn’t continued to fill him in on every little detail of our investigation, as I’d promised I would. I hadn’t told him that Dad had shown up at the hospital when Mike was shot and had almost died, and I hadn’t told him about Star or the suspicion I’d had that she was our half sister. Though my suspicion had turned out to be wrong, our dad had been involved with her mother in some way. I was sure he’d been the one to drop her off at the church, so whether he was her father or not, he’d been connected to her from the beginning.

Deep in my heart, I was sure that it was this connection that had led to her death. Maybe I should have done more to warn her that digging around in the past of Grant Thomas, or Grant Tucker as it might be, could only lead to trouble for everyone involved. Maybe instead of watching her from afar, I should have confronted her about the envelope I’d delivered to her when we first met. An envelope she’d told me contained a copy of the file Sam Denton had built on the man I was certain was my father. Denton must have known his life was in danger, because he’d given a copy of his file to a friend for safekeeping. The friend knew about Star’s situation and had decided to send it to her after Denton’s death.

I turned onto the narrow road leading out to my cabin. The file had concerned me from the beginning, but Star had assured me that she’d locked it away in her safety deposit box. She’d told me she hadn’t read it after she’d opened it in my presence on the day I delivered it, and had no idea what was in it. I didn’t know what sort of evidence Denton had managed to dig up, but apparently, it was damaging enough to cause someone to decide to end the life of both the PI who’d built the file and the woman who’d currently been in possession of it.