Murder at the Mistletoe Ball Read online

  ’TIS THE SEASON TO DIE

  Unfortunately, before she could say one word, Alberta noticed something odd about the life-size snowwoman. It was supposed to be standing next to the snowman, but instead it was starting to tilt to the other side.

  The other odd thing was that she was bleeding.

  A thin stream of blood was running down the left side of the snowwoman’s body.

  Alberta got up, but before she could move toward the tableau to investigate the scene further, the snowwoman fell onto her left shoulder and rolled onto her back. Bambi looked annoyed at being upstaged by an oversize Christmas decoration, but her attitude changed when the snowwoman’s body cracked open at the seam to reveal what had been hidden inside . . .

  Books by J. D. Griffo

  MURDER ON MEMORY LAKE

  MURDER IN TRANQUILITY PARK

  MURDER AT ICICLE LODGE

  MURDER AT VERONICA’S DINER

  MURDER AT ST. WINIFRED’S ACADEMY

  MURDER AT THE MISTLETOE BALL

  Published by Kensington Publishing Corp.

  J.D. GRIFFO

  A Ferrara Family Mystery

  MURDER AT THE MISTLETOE BALL

  www.kensingtonbooks.com

  All copyrighted material within is Attributor Protected.

  Table of Contents

  ’TIS THE SEASON TO DIE

  Also by

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE - Stai attento a ciò che desideri.

  CHAPTER 1 - La casa che giace costruita.

  CHAPTER 2 - L’attesa è la parte più difficile.

  CHAPTER 3 - Tanto va la gatta al lardo che ci lascia lo zampino.

  CHAPTER 4 - Una donna non è una donna finché non è una moglie.

  CHAPTER 5 - Dai nemici mi guardo io, dagli famiglia mi guardi Iddio!

  CHAPTER 6 - Per quanto le famiglie cambino, rimangono le stesse.

  CHAPTER 7 - Dipende sempre dalla famiglia.

  CHAPTER 8 - Due sono la compagnia, tre sono una folla.

  CHAPTER 9 - Il riso fa buon sangue.

  CHAPTER 10 - È meglio dare che ricevere.

  CHAPTER 11 - Come figlia, come figlio.

  CHAPTER 12 - Come il cacio sui maccheroni.

  CHAPTER 13 - Breve orazione penetra.

  CHAPTER 14 - Venite tutti voi fedeli.

  CHAPTER 15 - Non così buon Natale.

  CHAPTER 16 - Il bacio mortale del vischio.

  CHAPTER 17 - Bussa, bussa. C’è nessuno in casa?

  CHAPTER 18 - La verità potrebbe rendere qualcuno libero, ma manda anche qualcuno in prigione.

  CHAPTER 19 - Bah, scempiaggini!

  CHAPTER 20 - Dannato se lo fai e dannato se non lo fai.

  CHAPTER 21 - Anche il male ride.

  CHAPTER 22 - Un nome è solo l’inizio di una persona.

  CHAPTER 23 - Nessuno parla inglese?

  CHAPTER 24 - Una situación de ganar-ganar.

  CHAPTER 25 - Cammina con attenzione sul ghiaccio sottile.

  CHAPTER 26 - Non risolvere il puzzle finché i pezzi non si incastrano.

  CHAPTER 27 - Non scherzare con una pazza signora italiana.

  EPILOGUE - Avremo anche noi un piccolo e felice Natale.

  Recipes from the Ferrara Family Kitchen

  KENSINGTON BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  119 West 40th Street

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2021 by Michael Griffo

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  To the extent that the image or images on the cover of this book depict a person or persons, such person or persons are merely models, and are not intended to portray any character or characters featured in the book.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

  The K logo is a trademark of Kensington Publishing Corp.

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-3097-8

  ISBN: 978-1-4967-3098-5 (ebook)

  This book is dedicated to all the people who

  make me feel ‘cozy.’

  Some of them are family, some of them are friends,

  all of them are loved.

  Special thanks to the entire Kensington team for

  their continued support of my work. And to my

  agent, Evan Marshall, for his guidance all these years

  and for starting me on this journey in the first place.

  PROLOGUE

  Stai attento a ciò che desideri.

  Christmas would have to wait.

  Traditionally, the day after Thanksgiving was the start of the holiday season. Around the world it was known as Black Friday, the day most people started their Christmas shopping. It was also known as the day of the year most people began to deck their halls, trim their tree, and commit acts of goodwill toward man, woman, and child in the hopes of not ending up on Santa’s naughty list. But not this year, at least not for the Ferraras. This year would be different, and it was all because of Alberta’s daughter. That’s right, Lisa Marie Scaglione Maldonado had officially ruined the holiday season.

  Truth be told, it wasn’t the first time Lisa Marie did something that upended the family dynamic. Her actions were legendary and long-lasting. After a long respite, it seemed that history was about to repeat itself.

  Anyone who knew Alberta knew about her tumultuous relationship with her daughter. They knew that she and Lisa Marie had always squabbled, they had always fought, they had always answered simple questions by yelling accusations, they simply did not get along. The family feud started when Lisa Marie was a toddler and only grew worse as she got older. When she was married and had a family of her own, Lisa Marie decided to put an end to the endless war and, one morning, moved her entire family from New Jersey to Florida.

  It was a radical decision, but it achieved the desired result: the fighting stopped. There were no more arguments, no more hurtful comments, no more apologies to never again speak to the other in such a vicious tone of voice, no more lies, no more insinuations, no more relationship. Not only did Lisa Marie sever all ties with her home state, she severed all ties with her mother. The war between parent and child was over, but could either side label themselves victorious?

  For fourteen years there was silence between mother and daughter. No telephone calls, no e-mails, no texts, no conversation whatsoever. Lisa Marie had become a daughter to Alberta in name only. As a result, Alberta only had minimal contact with her grandchildren, Jinx and Sergio, until Jinx moved back to New Jersey after graduating college. They quickly made up for lost time, and Alberta and Jinx were almost inseparable now, although Alberta’s relationship with Sergio remained cursory. Birthday cards, an occasional phone call, a random text, little more. Still, it was better than the nonexistent relationship she had with her daughter.

  That, however, was about to change thanks to four little words.

  I need your help.

  That’s all that was written inside the card Alberta received with dozens of others after she made her stage debut, alongside her sister Helen, in a community theatre production of Arsenic and Old Lace. While the othe
r cards congratulated her on her performance, wished her continued success in her next theatrical endeavor, and rambled on about how stellar the show was, the simple four-word sentence made the most impact.

  There was no signature and no return address on the envelope, but Alberta knew who the sender was thanks to Sister Catherine, a teacher at St. Ann’s Elementary School. The nun was passionate about penmanship and taught all her students the art of cursive writing. She believed handwriting was not merely a form of communication, but a way to present a flow of ideas in the most elegant way possible.

  Many of the things learned in childhood are not easily forgotten, which was why Lisa Marie’s capital Is still looked like Js. When Alberta saw her daughter’s handwriting for the first time in over a decade, she was overcome with joy. A feeling that quickly transformed into dread.

  After all these years, Alberta’s estranged daughter had finally reached out to her. It should be a cause for celebration. How many nights had Alberta lain awake in bed, hoping Lisa Marie would finally break the silence that had grown between them? How many times had she seen a mother and daughter walking hand in hand, or having a meal at a restaurant, and wished that she and Lisa Marie could share such a moment that was so casual it wouldn’t warrant a memory? More than ten years of silence—and silent wishes—were about to come to an end. So why did Alberta feel as if her world was about to be turned upside down? Yet again.

  The first time was several years ago, when she unexpectedly inherited her Aunt Carmela’s house on Memory Lake as well as Carmela’s fortune, which no one knew she had. Everyone in the family considered Carmela to be a spinster aunt living with her brother and surviving month to month on her Social Security checks. They had no idea she had somehow amassed three million dollars and a Cape Cod cottage in Tranquility, New Jersey, overlooking the crystal-blue water of Memory Lake, all of which she bequeathed to Alberta, her sole heir.

  The difference was that Alberta never wished to be given her aunt’s fortune, but she did wish to be given another chance with her daughter. Now that her wish seemed to be granted, Alberta was forced to ask herself if this was a wish that she truly wanted fulfilled. The answer seemed simple—of course she did, of course she wanted a reconciliation—but when it came to Lisa Marie, nothing was ever simple.

  When Alberta first received the card a few days ago, she had been sitting around her kitchen table with family and friends eating Entenmann’s desserts, drinking Red Herrings, which was a cocktail her granddaughter Jinx invented, and chatting about the show that had just closed. They didn’t even have the opportunity to discuss the Thanksgiving dinner Alberta was hosting because Vinny, the chief of police and Alberta’s childhood friend, burst into the house and slammed a bag filled with fan letters onto the table.

  A few minutes later Alberta was staring at a card with blue hydrangeas on the cover, the very same kind that grew in her backyard, and then at her daughter’s words. Her heart began to race, her breath caught in her throat, her cheeks flushed. Because everyone knew the history between Alberta and Lisa Marie, no one pressured Alberta for an answer; they merely stared at her with anxious faces. They knew this was an unprecedented surprise and they knew Alberta needed time to absorb the shock. Lola, however, didn’t possess such social graces.

  Alberta’s beloved cat, long, lean, and all black except for a patch of white above her left eye, was hungry, and she couldn’t understand why her mother was more interested in the thing she was holding than in filling up her empty food dish. Something had to be done to rectify this unacceptable situation.

  Lola jumped onto the kitchen table and rolled onto her back in an attempt to capture Alberta’s attention. When that maneuver didn’t elicit a response, she let out a meow that could’ve been heard on the other side of Memory Lake. It worked. The sound startled Alberta back to reality and made her realize that the world would keep on spinning even if she sat still.

  “Stai attento a ciò che desideria,” she said, more to herself than her company.

  “Why do you have to be careful, Gram?” Jinx asked. “Isn’t this exactly what you’ve wished for, to be reunited with my mother?”

  Alberta felt her mouth smile and her head nod more out of reflex than honesty, and she knew Jinx was right—this was what she had wished for. However, she also knew, as Eve must’ve known in the back of her mind before she bit into that apple, not every wish that comes true has a happy ending. Her feelings at the moment were complicated.

  “It is, lovey,” Alberta replied. “I’m just thrown, that’s all.”

  “That’s completely understandable,” Sloan said. “This is quite the surprise.”

  Alberta could hear the compassion and strength in her boyfriend’s voice and was grateful to have a good man like Sloan McLelland in her life. She was thankful for her family as well and could feel their positive energy reaching out to support her. When Lola meowed even louder, Alberta was relieved to have a diversion. She took a can of cat food from the cupboard, opened it, and started to dole it out onto a plate as Lola curved in and out of Alberta’s legs. Alberta placed the plate on the floor and watched Lola dig in.

  Preparing Lola’s food had been a slight reprieve, but when Alberta watched Lola eat, she thought once again of her daughter. Lola’s patch of white fur reminded Alberta of the birthmark next to Lisa Marie’s right eye. She had never made the connection before, but there it was, clear as day. Unlike her daughter’s cryptic message.

  “I can’t imagine what Lisa Marie needs from me after all this time,” Alberta said.

  “There’s an easy way to find out,” Jinx said. “I’ll call my mother.”

  Three voices combined as one to shout the same answer: “No.”

  Alberta didn’t have to look around the room to know that Helen and Joyce’s were the other two voices that joined in with hers. Without discussing it, Alberta knew that the two women understood what she was feeling, they understood the depth of pain and confusion she was currently experiencing. As much as Alberta loved her granddaughter, Jinx was still too young, and in many ways too naïve, to understand how a missive from a long-lost relative could ignite such turmoil.

  “Why not?” Jinx asked. “I can ask my mother and we’ll find out exactly why she sent you that card.”

  “Because your grandmother isn’t ready to know that just yet,” Joyce explained.

  Jinx had grown very close to Alberta and her aunts these past few years, even though there was a substantial gap in their ages. Most of the time it served as a benefit, each teaching the other something new. Other times, like now, Jinx felt they spoke a different language.

  “Gram’s been waiting fourteen years for this to happen,” Jinx said. “How can she not be ready?”

  “There’s really no way to prepare yourself for something like this,” Alberta said.

  “I know it won’t be easy, Gram, but my mother made the first move, now it’s your turn.”

  “That’s exactly the problem.”

  As was often the case, Helen Ferrara’s simple proclamation silenced the room. It was a combination of her gruff voice, her concise vocabulary, and her no-frills approach that made people listen to the subtext of what she said and not just her words. In four more words, Helen made everyone understand that as the mother—and particularly an Italian mother—Alberta felt that she should have been the one to reach out to her daughter in an attempt to repair the damage and destruction that had occurred between them, and not the other way around. Alberta was embarrassed that her daughter did what she should have done many years ago.

  Although Sloan had no interest in controlling Alberta and never felt the need to assert his manhood by playing a traditional masculine role, he understood that this was one of those moments where he needed to swoop in and assert his authority to save the woman he loved from what was becoming an uncomfortable situation.

  “I think it’s time for everyone to go.”

  In response to Sloan’s suggestion, the group muttered their a
greement and started to leave the kitchen.

  “I’m sorry, Gram. I thought this was what you wanted.”

  “It is, lovey,” Alberta replied, grabbing Jinx’s hand. “But sometimes when you finally get what you want . . . it’s terrifying.”

  The one thing Jinx had learned while being in her grandmother’s company was the importance of looking at the world through other people’s eyes and not just myopically through your own. She thought her mother reaching out was a joyful miracle, but she understood her grandmother could feel differently. Jinx hugged Alberta tightly and kissed her on the cheek before leaving.

  When it was just Sloan and Alberta, he sat in the chair next to hers and held her hand. She brought his hand up to her lips and kissed it. She held it there, and soon it was wet with her tears.

  Now, several days later, nothing had changed. Alberta still hadn’t worked up the courage to reach out to her daughter and she still didn’t know why she needed her help. The only thing she did know was what her every instinct told her: This was going to be a Christmas no one would ever forget.

  CHAPTER 1

  La casa che giace costruita.

  It felt like the North Pole.

  Alberta was sitting in one of the Adirondack chairs in her backyard, facing Memory Lake, the quilt her mother made for her sister Helen when she left home to enter the convent wrapped around her. The design was an elaborate display of squares, triangles, and circles in a rainbow of colors and patterns, with an underside that was lined in light blue fleece. Elena Ferrara had stitched in a photo of the Blessed Mother, along with the words to the Hail Mary, so Helen would always feel connected to her religion. At some point over the years, the hand-made heirloom came into Alberta’s possession. Her mother must have known she would need its comfort one day.