Trouble Under the Tree (A Nina Quinn Mystery) Read Online Free

on
her expensive shoes.
    Hazy smoke filled the area in front of The
Gingerbread Oven, but as soon as we reached the doorway, the fire
alarms stopped blaring. Jenny stormed inside the shop. I followed,
wondering just how serious she’d been about holding her back.
    The Gingerbread Oven was divided into two
parts. One was retail-oriented, where a shopper could buy all the
supplies she needed to make a gingerbread house on her own—or
purchase one ready-made (to pass off as her own—not that I’d ever
done that. Not me, Nina Colette Phony-Baloney Gingerbread House
Maker Ceceri Quinn). The other half of the space was set up as a
demonstration kitchen. Here, shoppers (adults and kids alike) could
create their own gingerbread house under Glory’s expert
guidance.
    Benny was already in the kitchen with a fire
extinguisher when we arrived. Glory stood waving her oven-mitted
hands as the smoke slowly cleared. A tray of charred gingerbread
men sat on one of the stainless steel counters. Poor little guys
were burnt almost beyond recognition.
    “I’ve got it under control,” Benny said,
putting the extinguisher down.
    I didn’t see any foam, so it didn’t look like
he had needed to use it.
    “What happened? I thought you were going to
set the timer from now on?” Jenny asked Glory.
    Glory tittered and lifted a shoulder in a
shrug. She was a tall woman, and her Marge Simpson hairdo gave her
even more height. Long wild curls tilted precariously atop her
head, secured with a clip that looked like it could pop off at any
moment and take out a bystander’s eye.
    I backed up a step. I liked my eyes.
    “I forgot?” she said.
    Jenny scowled. “I might forget to pay you
next time this happens, got it? In fact, I might forget you work
here and ask security to escort you out. Get my drift?”
    I was pretty sure the place had no security
yet but that was beside the point.
    I’d never seen Jenny angry, but she was
furious now. I stepped closer to her in case I did, in fact, have
to hold her back.
    Glory crossed her arms over her enormous
chest. “I dare you to find someone better than me.”
    Okay, maybe I’d been wrong. The biggest part
of her might be her ego. But she did have a point. At fifty-three,
she was the best gingerbread artist within a five-hundred-mile
radius. What she could do with gingerbread houses was astounding.
And her cookies (maybe with the exception of the scorched little
men on the table) were the best I’d ever tasted.
    Jenny lunged. I made a grab for her and
pulled her back. She was tiny, but strong as she struggled against
me.
    Glory was up for the fight. She jumped
forward, her oven-mitted hands looking like boxing gloves. “You’re
playin’ with fire, Jenny Christmas.”
    Benny stepped in between the two of them.
“Now, now, even though I love a good cat fight, let’s not get
carried away, ladies.”
    I thought he might have a death wish.
    “Obviously, you like fire,” Jenny snapped
back, ignoring Benny completely. She snatched a crispy gingerbread
man and hurled it. It smacked Glory in the forehead just as she
peeked around Benny’s big form. “You like things so hot they
burn!”
    “ Argh !” Glory’s hands reached around
Benny’s back, clawing air.
    “Let me go, Nina!” Jenny cried, arms
flailing.
    Jeez. Thank goodness for Duke, my scary
personal trainer, or I might have been flat on my ass by now.
“No!”
    “It was an accident,” Benny said loudly.
“They happen.”
    Jenny immediately stopped struggling at the
word “accident,” and I imagined she was thinking of his
accident—the one that nearly killed him.
    Despite his injuries, Benny was as big and
strong as ever. His clothes strained to fit his muscular body. He
didn’t seem to mind Jenny’s anger—which was probably a good thing
for their marriage.
    I let her go.
    She straightened her dress. “Fine.”
    Glory brushed crumbs from her face as she
peered around Benny. “Fine.” She smoothed back a strand of hair
that