Part Seven of The Christmas Mystery by Barbara Phinney

Think fast? Zelda didn’t think fast, unless it was the last chocolate brownie on a plate at the church potluck, and Mrs. Tuckershaw was closing in on it. No, Zelda didn’t give anything except that a fast thought.

But Tommy? Ben had mentioned Tommy, and suddenly the quiet Christmas loomed over her like one of Scrooge’s creepy ghosts loomed over him. She didn’t want to have her son away at Christmas. And the idea of never sharing the holiday season with him again weighed against Mrs. Garrison’s cockeyed admission to murder...

No way. Sorry, Mrs. Garrison. You and your dead husband and those ‘officers’ don’t hold a candle to Tommy.

She whirled, grabbed Ben’s arm and hissed, “You better be right about this, or else!”

“Wise choice,” Ben answered as he grabbed her arm and steered her into her house. Once in there, with the door locked, he began a systematic checking and closing of all of her blinds and curtains. Not that there were many open. She’d just got up...well, some time ago.

“Okay, talk. I want to know what’s going on. Mrs. Garrison is practically owning up to murder. And the way she talked, it sounded like this has happened before. She needs my help. But then you go and bring Tommy into all this. Is he in danger? And what was that little thingy you shoved into your pocket?”

Ben dug something out of his pocket. “It’s a detonator. I need it to identify who sent the bomb.”
“Do you have an idea who it was?”

Ben glanced toward the window. “Yes. And they showed up just a little too fast, don’t you think?”

“You mean the police? The EMTs?” Zelda shoved Ben out of the way and peered out the window herself. Beyond her yard, everyone who answered the call had gone into the house. And Mrs. Garrison was headed in, too. From her front door window, Zelda could see the older woman hurrying inside, a millisecond before she turned and drilled a hard, cold stare across the street.

Ben shoved the curtain down. “Yes. Those people aren’t who you think they are. And for Tommy’s sake, we need to get away.” He turned and began to direct her down her hall. “You have thirty seconds to get dressed.”

She resisted him. “I can’t dress that fast!”

He stopped, turned and took both her elbows in a firm hold close to her. “Zelda, listen to me. We need to get out of here. I’ll explain everything, but it’s Tommy we need to think of right now. You have thirty seconds, okay?”

Then he leaned and pressed a quick, warm kiss onto her lips.

Too quick, was her first thought. But he was already pushing toward her bedroom, and unless she wanted him in there dressing her like a confused old woman, she’d better do as he said.
She returned, dressed, with no idea of how little time she took. And she was sure she had her tank top on backwards.

Ben was pacing in the front hall. “The Garrisons came to this area for one purpose," he started to explain. "to destroy the organization Tommy and I work for. But if Mr. Garrison is dead, things are getting even more desperate. I believe that Tommy-”

“Was foolish to trust you.”

Ben pivoted hard. Zelda jumped. Stepping in from the back door was Mrs. Garrison. She carried a deadly looking gun. Behind her stood both EMTs.

And they had guns, too!