A Christmas crime shocks the merchants of a quaint shopping district in this latest installment of The New York Times bestselling Victoria Square series . It's Christmastime, but not everyone is jolly--especially not Vonne Barnett. Her dead body has been found in Victoria Square. Katie Bonner, the manager of Artisan's Alley, happens to be at the tea shop Vonne's mother, Francine, owns when the news is delivered. Vonne left a trail of men behind her so the suspects are many--but the clues are few. A broken teacup leads Katie to one of the suspects, but before she can investigate, she's attacked. Katie may be closing in on a murderer, but time is ticking because the murderer is definitely closing in on her. Praise for the  New York Times  Bestselling Series   “Victoria Square is memorable right from the first—a place in which charming shops, vintage treasures, and hidden secrets coexist.”—Ellery Adams,  New York Times  bestselling author   “Bartlett’s characters come alive in this tightly crafted, suspenseful plot.”—Kate Collins,  New York Times  bestselling author   “Fun plot, fanciful characters, really fabulous crafts.”—Laura Childs,  New York Times  bestselling author   “Wonderful...a can’t-miss hit!”—Julie Hyzy,  New York Times  bestselling author Lorraine Bartlett is the New York Times bestselling author of the Victoria Square Mysteries and, under a pseudonym, another mystery series. She lives and writes in Rochester, New York. Gayle Leeson is a cozy mystery writer who also writes under the pseudonyms Gayle Trent and Amanda Lee. She lives in Virginia. One   For several seconds after her former mother-in-law had ended their call, Katie Bonner stared at her phone. What kind of sick joke was this? When Katie's husband, Chad, had been alive, one hour with Katie had been too much for Margo Bonner-and that hour had been used to make passive-aggressive digs at the woman who could never be good enough for her darling Chad.   And now-now?-after Chad had been dead for nearly two years, Margo would be "passing through" and wanted to spend a couple of days with Katie? Why? And even stranger, why had Katie agreed to host the persnickety woman in her tiny one-bedroom apartment? She could've said no, could've made up an excuse, could've suddenly booked a one-way ticket to Bolivia.   But she'd found herself saying, "Sure, that'll be fine."   Fine.   Why in the world . . . ?   Because of Chad. Because I still miss him, too.   Katie sighed as she pushed away from her desk. She grabbed a peppermint from the jar before heading out of her office at Artisans Alley, her long skirt swishing as she walked. She, and the rest of the vendors, was dressed in nineteenth-century garb for the Dickens Festival, the Alley's second annual celebration of the holiday season. The other merchants on Victoria Square had also adopted the custom-and it was paying off in spades.   Since Katie had taken over running the former applesauce warehouse now known as Artisans Alley-Chad's pet project-it had grown from being an unorganized, failing group of artisans to a profitable configuration of artists and vendors. Maybe that was another reason Katie hadn't refused Margo's offer. She wanted her former mother-in-law to see what she'd done with her son's legacy.   "Katie, Vance just called," Rose Nash said, the spryest seventy-something-year-old Katie had ever met. Today, she was manning cash desk one, a cute bonnet covering her blonde curls, her blue eyes sparkling with pleasure. "His church's choir will be here to sing on Saturday from one until four. Oh, I can't wait to hear those heavenly voices filling the Alley with song."   Katie smiled. The customers loved it, too. "That's great. I was just going over to the tea shop for a minute. May I bring you back anything?"   "Oh, no, thanks. It's . . . um . . ." Rose scrunched up her softly wrinkled face. "I've heard complaints about the food, and they don't seem to be doing much business lately."   Rose had a point. 'Twas the season, and all the other businesses in Victoria Square were bustling. From what Katie could see as she walked across the parking lot, there wasn't a single customer inside the tea shop. Something was definitely going on there. Two months ago, the tea shop seemed to have been thriving. Now, when it should have been at its busiest, the place was as dead as Jacob Marley.   Although the bell over the door tinkled merrily when Katie walked into the shop, no one came out to greet her right away. It gave her the opportunity to consider the display case. There were some blueberry scones, but they looked slightly burned around the edges. Some miniature chicken salad croissants looked okay, but she wondered how long they'd been sitting there.   Francine Barnett finally emerged from the back of the shop, sliding her palms down the front of her soiled white apron. "Hi, Katie. How are you?"   "I'm fine, thanks. Will you be open late for the lighting of the big Christmas tree on th