*Prologue*
Christmas Whodunnit in Seaside Town’s Crime of Passion
By Maddy Stein, USA Times staff writer
DELILAH’S COVE, Or.– Someonein this quiet coastal town has a mysterious way of celebrating the holidays.
It starts with an anonymous gift of a fruitcake and ends with two people falling in love.
The bunt-shaped fruitcakes began showing up in seemingly random mailboxes five years ago. There was nothing to distinguish the packaging, just a generic holiday cake tin inside a brown box with four mini bottles of Wild Turkey and a card reading:“Enjoy the magic of Christmas and prepare to fall in love.” The return address was a Delilah’s Cove P.O. box.
Every year since, a collection of people from the West Coast to the East Coast with no ostensible connection have received the cakes. Yet no one has been able to conclusively prove who’s sending them, despite a growing list of suspects. Some have called the cakes magical, while others maintain they’re a well-orchestrated publicity stunt to turn Delilah’s Cove into a thriving tourist destination. After all, Delilah, the town’s founder, was a suspected witch, so a love-potion fruitcake would be a fitting gimmick.
Whether a true believer or a cynic, the general consensus is that the fruitcakes have had a strange way of bringing unlikely couples together.
“I didn’t think anything of it at first,” said Janis Whiting, who received the cake two years ago in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho. “It was Christmastime, and I figured my company had sent it. Then I saw something on the news about people receiving a mysterious fruitcake from a Christmas cupid in Oregon, dug up the box, and sure enough, it was from Delilah’s Cove. Crazy, right?”
Whiting, 32, said she has never been to the seaside town, nor does she know anyone from Delilah’s Cove, but believes the cake was part of her destiny.
“I’d just gone through a bad breakup, and out of nowhere, I get the package. Then my old high-school boyfriend calls, says he just moved to Coeur d’Alene and decided to look me up. Boom, four months later, we’re engaged.”
Hattie Reed, the postmaster in Delilah’s Cove, said that first Christmas and every one since, she’s gotten calls from recipients requesting to know who sent the fruitcakes.
“I have my suspicions,” she said, but stopped short of naming names. “I started logging the calls and so far, twenty-five people have reported receiving the fruitcakes and falling in love, just like the note said. My husband thinks it’s a load of hooey, but you can’t argue with those numbers.”
Over at Delilah’s Cut and Curl, the salon staff and clients were divided.
“Someone at the chamber of commerce cooked this up,” said Darla Jensen, one of the stylists. “I call it the power of suggestion. You tell someone the cake will make you fall in love, and the next thing you know, you’re in love.”
There was much debate, but all agreed that the news stories had given the town a certain degree of cache.
Mayor Randy Kim admits that the lore of the fruitcakes has indeed put Delilah’s Cove on the map but denies that they’re the brainchild of an elaborate marketing scheme.
“I’m just as flummoxed as everyone else,” he said. “And honestly, I don’t think we would’ve gone with fruitcakes as a symbol of the city. People usually throw them away or regift them, not exactly the image we want to portray.”
At the sole bakery in town, Dani Cornfield was ready to dish.
“I know a lot of folks think it’s me,” she said. “But wouldn’t that be a little too obvious? Come on.”
Cornfield said she has narrowed it down to three possible culprits: Bruce Willows, Tuff McNeil or the church ladies. Willows loves his romance novels, she said. McNeil owns the diner and is a direct descent of Delilah.
“For all we know, he’s a witch, too,” Cornfield said. “And even if he isn’t, it’s a boon to his cash register.”
And the church ladies? Cornfield didn’t have a good reason except “they always have their noses in everyone else’s business.”
Willows and McNeil denied being involved, and the church ladies could not be reached for comment.
“I just wish someone would send me one of those cakes,” Cornfield said. “I haven’t had a date in two years.”
*
Chapter One
Selena pulled her ailing car onto the shoulder of the road and rolled to a stop. The car gave another ominous rattle, this one louder than the last. Tendrils of smoke seeped out from one side of the hood, then the other.Shit. She turned off the engine and rested her head on the steering wheel.
On both sides, the pine forest rose up, thick and dense, making a little valley for this stretch of the two-lane road. She couldn’t be more than ten or fifteen miles from her house, but it was too far to walk in this weather. Especially considering her shoe selection. The bright red ballerina slippers had been perfect for a quick trip back to Boston for Melanie’s holiday party…but not nearly as suitable for a walk in the blustery rain of Upstate New York.
Plus, walking home would take her straight through Sacred Harbor. Right past Wilkinson’s Garage. And coming face to face with Jace Wilkinson would be nothing short of a disaster.
