Elves, Evergreens, & Evidence, page 1
ELVES, EVERGREENS, & EVIDENCE
A CAMPER AND CRIMINALS COZY MYSTERY
BOOK THIRTY-FOUR
TONYA KAPPES
CONTENTS
Free Book!
Preview
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Recipes and Camping Hack from Mae West and the Laundry Club Ladies
Winter Wonderland Mocha- Served at Trails Coffee
Camping Hack #1
Over-the-Campfire: Grilled Lamb Kofta Kebabs
Camping Hack #2
Camper Crockpot: Creamy Tuscan Chicken
Natural Tick Deterrent for Hikers
Books By Tonya
About Tonya
TONYA KAPPES
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PREVIEW
Hastily, I tucked the contract back into the box and grabbed my judging sheets and the shirt meant for me.
"Sorry, I got held up," a young volunteer said through pants as she arrived, looking flustered. "Did you find everything okay?"
I nodded, though my mind was still on the document I had just read. "Yes, thank you."
She gave a relieved smile. "Good. Good luck with the judging."
"Thanks so much," I said, starting to walk away. But before I could even take a few steps, a chilling scream echoed through the festival grounds. It was raw, tinged with unmistakable horror, causing everyone nearby to stop in their tracks.
The sound had come from the direction of the reindeer shed. Heart pounding, I rushed toward the source, weaving through the gathering crowd. As I neared, Mayor Mackenzie burst from the shed's entrance, her face pale, eyes wide with shock. She looked like she'd seen a ghost.
"Mae!" She gasped, clutching her chest. "It's… it's…"
Unable to complete her sentence, she pointed weakly towards the shed. With trepidation, I peered inside and was met with a horrifying sight.
In the dim lighting of the shed, among stacks of hay, lay a man, motionless.
CHAPTER ONE
“Merrier than Christmas mornin' with a biscuit in your hand” was how Dottie had described Happy Trails Campground’s booth for this year’s Winter Festival.
Boy, was she right.
I stood and took a moment to drink in the sights of the Winter Festival in full swing. Dottie's description had nailed the feeling; it was an event filled with joy, wonder, and the spirit of the season. I sucked in a deep breath, and my stomach gurgled as the warm scent of freshly baked biscuits wafted over from the Normal Diner on the wintery day’s light breeze.
Everywhere I looked, twinkly fairy lights adorned booths, trees, and lampposts throughout the park, casting a soft, ethereal glow on the proceedings. The delicate luminescence made the light snowflakes descending from the heavens shimmer like millions of diamonds against the night sky.
The snow gathered in gentle drifts, painting the town in shades of silver and white. It added a touch of magic, muffling the festival sounds slightly and making everything seem just a tad softer, a tad more otherworldly.
At the far end of the park, the amphitheater was slowly filling up, its stone seats covered with blankets and eager spectators. They were all bundled up in colorful scarves and mittens, their breath misting in the cold air, waiting in anticipation for the evening’s performances.
But the big show tonight was the annual tree lighting.
The towering Christmas tree stood proudly in the center of the grassy median. It was unlit for now, but even in the gathering dusk, it was a sight to behold.
The majestic fir was adorned with red and gold baubles, silver tinsel, and what looked like hundreds of handcrafted ornaments, each reflecting the heritage and traditions of Normal, Kentucky, and the Daniel Boone National Forest.
Near the tree, a platform had been erected for Santa.
It was so darn cute to see all the children lined up, eyes wide with a mix of nervousness and excitement, their tiny voices raised in awe or in whispered conversations with their parents. Their laughter and innocent chatter were heartwarming, and my feeling while witnessing it all was one I’d love to bottle up to have on hand.
I still couldn’t believe what a year we’d had, and it was about to come to a close after Christmas with the New Year approaching.
I felt an overwhelming sense of community when I looked around at the other vendors, local business owners with whom I had become very close friends.
Here, at this one celebration in the heart of the Daniel Boone National Park, beneath a canopy of stars and amid the ancient trees, we were all connected, and everyone smiling and having a good time truly brought about the spirit of the season.
“Are you standin’ there daydreamin’ again, May-bell-ine?” Dottie Swaggert asked as she walked back over to the small table we had placed between two camping chairs in order to get some of the brochures we had put together as sponsors of this year’s Red Birds Winter Festival Charity. The Red Birds were an arm of the Daniel Boone National Forest Advisory Committee made up of a group of women from the forest’s surrounding counties who actually enjoyed doing fundraisers and volunteer work.
Cheryl Paisley, a knitter, was the first person to rent the camper van I lived in on my campground while she found her footing in Kentucky. She and Tilly, her cat, had come into town ahead of a terrible tornado, and it was the first week I’d rented my very own camper to a tourist. When Cheryl had asked how she could get involved in Normal, the Red Birds had come to mind as an option. She wanted to be part of our community, and there was no better way to get involved than to join the Red Birds.
It seemed Cheryl’s specialty was helping raise funds for various causes, so when she heard we needed someone to volunteer for the Winter Festival fundraiser for our children’s summer camps, she was all over it.
“It’s a short-term commitment,” she had said. “I’ll rent your camper van through the winter months, and then I’ll explore Kentucky more to see where I want to make a home.”
It didn’t take too long for her to decide Normal was exactly where she wanted to settle and didn’t’ waste anytime opening up a much-needed yarn shop called the Stitchin’ Post.
Cheryl had volunteered for almost everything she could over the past couple of month and this also meant she needed to recruit people to help her.
That’s why we had a booth. The Laundry Club Ladies and I, with the help of Cheryl’s teaching skills, had spent many a night around a campfire, inside my camper van, and in the recreational center over the past couple of months, crafting little gnome- and elf-looking dolls in Christmas-themed yarn patterns.
“I ain’t never seen so many people who love these little gnomes.” Dottie picked up a handful of the small knitted creatures.
“Elves,” I corrected her, though I felt like she was right. “Cheryl says they are elves.”
“Whatever they are, they sure are ugly little thangs.” Dottie’s nose wrinkled as she looked down at the small pile of handcrafted creatures with exaggerated features. “But folks seem to love ’em.”
I chuckled softly. “Well, it's the spirit of the season. Maybe they see a bit of the festival's magic in these little… elves.”
Dottie rolled her eyes dramatically but smiled, revealing the warmth she tried so hard to keep hidden under her tough exterior. “I reckon they make good stocking stuffers.”
I glanced over at the Red Birds’ booth, where Cheryl was enthusiastically explaining to a couple the significance of the unique pattern.
The hum of conversations, gentle melodies of carolers in the distance, and occasional ring of a bell from the nearby Salvation Army booth blended to create a harmonious soundtrack to the evening. The air was cool and crisp, and every so often, a gust of wind would send a flurry of snowflakes dancing around us.
Dottie suddenly leaned closer to me, her tone turning conspiratorial. “Who would’ve thought this little creatures would bring a community to donate to a good cause?”
I shook my head, a grin tugging at my lips. “It’s very heartwarming to see good things happen.”
“This here’s what it’s all about, ain't it? Community, giving back, and just… being together.” Dottie nodded, her gaze sweeping over the festivities.
“Exactly. It's these moments that make everything worthwhile.” I smiled, touched by her sentiment.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed movement near the back corner of the amphitheater, where the behind-the-scenes staging was located. Two men were engaged in what looked like a heated argument, their aggressive body language making that clear even from a distance.
One of the men tightly gripped the reins of a reindeer, who
“Well now,” Dottie mused, her voice dripping with curiosity. She set down one of the elves she'd been examining. “What's all this about?”
Without waiting for an answer, she pulled out her pleather cigarette case, swiftly lighting one up as she made her way toward the scene.
With her cigarette in hand, she looked like a freight train barreling down the tracks, unstoppable and intent on getting to the heart of the matter.
Dottie picked up speed after the situation between the men suddenly escalated.
The one holding the reindeer’s reins slowly bent down and put his drink on the ground next to his feet before he used his free hand to shove the other guy with such force that he stumbled backward, landing on the cold, snowy ground. Their voices were drowned out by the festive sounds around us, but their anger was apparent.
The man with the reins had a face as stormy as a winter night when he gave the man on the ground one last look as he picked up his drink.
As he walked past our booth, leading the clearly agitated reindeer, and took a sip, our eyes locked for a split second. His gaze was icy, and a shiver ran down my spine, unrelated to the cold weather. He crumpled up his cup and threw it in the trash can we had put beside our booth for the festivalgoers.
“You won’t get away with this!” the man still on the ground called out.
But just as suddenly as the tension peaked, it was punctuated by a robust "Ho ho ho!" and the merry jingle of bells.
Santa Claus, in all his jolly glory, appeared from around the amphitheater. The sight of him—his rosy cheeks and twinkling eyes—was such a contrast to the altercation I'd just witnessed. The children nearby squealed in delight, their attention instantly drawn to Santa, effectively shifting the public’s focus from the two quarreling men.
I glanced at Dottie, who had stopped midway to the scene, a puzzled expression on her face as she took a drag from her cigarette.
She raised an eyebrow at me, and I could tell we were both thinking the same thing.
There was a story behind that argument, and it was one we were both eager to “uncover,” as we’d call it, a cover-up for what we were really going to do: gossip.
But for now, with Santa's arrival and the festivities in full swing, it would have to wait.
CHAPTER TWO
"Three, two…" Mayor Courtney Mackenzie's voice, full of enthusiasm and warmth, echoed throughout the park, her gloved fingers mirroring the countdown. The crowd, a sea of bundled-up residents and visitors, waited with bated breath, children perched on their parents' shoulders for a better view.
"One!" she exclaimed, playfully pressing a mock button on an oversized plastic Christmas bulb, bringing the festivities to life.
A collective gasp filled the air as the grand Christmas tree burst into life.
So did Waldo Willy’s camera flash as he captured the moment for the Normal Gazette.
The twinkling fairy lights, previously dormant, now illuminated the entire park with their radiant glow. Each light seemed to dance, reflecting off the red and gold baubles, the silver tinsel, and the meticulously handcrafted ornaments. The entire tree shimmered as if dusted with a layer of magical stardust.
The crowd erupted in a chorus of oohs and aahs, their voices full of awe and wonder. Children clapped their mittened hands in glee, their faces lit up, eyes wide with the sheer magic of the moment. Their laughter rang out, mixing with comments of appreciation from the adults. Nearby, I heard a young boy exclaim, "It's like a fairy tale come to life!"
I found myself mesmerized, completely drawn into the enchanting spectacle before me. The reflection of the lights in the snow created a dreamy ambiance, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. Everything felt soft, magical, and drenched in the golden glow of the festive season.
Beside me, I heard Dottie let out a soft sigh.
"Every year, it gets me right here," she murmured, placing a hand over her heart.
And I understood what she meant. It wasn't just the physical beauty of the tree and the lights but the shared experience, the collective joy, and the sense of community that enveloped us all.
The tree, standing tall and proud, seemed like a beacon of hope and unity, its lights piercing the winter darkness and wrapping everyone present in a warm embrace. The backdrop of the forest trees enhanced its prominence, their silhouettes standing still and silent as if they were in awe.
“It really is so pretty,” I said and turned when I felt someone come up too close behind me.
“Sorry I missed it. Mary Elizabeth stopped me. She and Dr. Mitchell were making a plan for Dr. Mitchell to come make sure the cows are all good on shots for the winter,” Hank Sharp, my new husband, said, wrapping his arms around me from behind. “But my goodness, I think it’s prettier than last year.”
“Me too,” I said with a sigh and leaned the back of my head against his chest.
It really was amazing with the slow snowfall, flakes briefly landing on one of the needles of the tree or even one of the lights before they quickly melted.
“I hope you take a moment to look at all the ornaments on the tree.” Courtney continued her speech. “We asked every resident, shop owner, and community leader to donate an ornament to the tree instead of displaying our usual themed tree.”
Every citizen of Normal had been encouraged to bring a personal ornament to hang upon its branches, a tapestry come alive with the community's stories and memories.
"Lordy, I won’t be able to find the one we sent in.” Dottie harrumphed, shading her eyes with her hand as she scanned the tree. “There are so many dang ornaments that trying to find ours is like finding a sugar cube in a snowstorm!”
“It might give us something to do if the booth gets boring.” I chuckled, knowing we really didn’t want to have a booth here for the campground.
Happy Trails Campground was more than just a place for people to come park their RVs or tents, or even rent one of our stationary campers or a bungalow. It was an experience, almost like glamping with a nice big lake in the middle, a few trailheads, and full hookup.
Not many campgrounds offered full hookups.
As I looked closer, I could see the myriad of ornaments that adorned the tree, each with its own tale to tell. There were handcrafted baubles from the town's elders, tiny mittens knitted by the children of the local school, and delicate trinkets passed down through generations. Each addition was a testament to the unity and spirit of Normal, turning the tree into a collective masterpiece of experiences and traditions.
The grassy median was all decked out, looking just like a scene from the North Pole, with Santa’s Workshop.
“It kinda reminds me of my mama’s tree,” Hank said. “You know, when you were a kid and made ornaments and were obligated to put them on the tree, year after year.”
I stiffened.
“Oh, honey.” Hank must’ve felt my body jerk. “I’m so, so sorry,” he said, realizing I had lost that with my family since they’d been killed in a house fire.
“No, it’s fine.” I brushed it off the best I could. “I had plenty of items for Mary Elizabeth’s tree.”
I lied. Mary Elizabeth did make me go to a ceramics class with her once. Besides, I was already a teenager when she took me in as a foster child.
The carolers nearby seamlessly transitioned into a rendition of "O Holy Night," their harmonious voices adding another layer of beauty to the evening.
I was thankful for the melody as it floated through the air, taking our attention off the ornaments.
“May-bell-ine,” Dottie called and pointed to our booth. In her Southern twang, she continued, “I’m gonna go back over to warm up. You two meander and do whatever it is y’all wunt to.”
