The Christmas Cake
written by: Carol Bennetts
“Tex, I’m so excited! The ring is amazing, and my posse is going to be so jealous!”
Sally held up her left hand to her new fiancé. He kissed it and then turned to Molly Irving, the mayor of the town and widowed owner of the old-fashioned jewelry store in downtown Providence, Texas.
“Molly, thanks for getting the ring sized so quickly. Sally was determined to have it for our Christmas Eve dinner next week with the parents.”
The slender lady with twinkling eyes and an immaculate gray bob smiled.
“Tex, your mother would never forgive me if Tom’s Jewelers let you down for your special occasion.”
Molly reflected that it was ten years since her husband, Tom, the previous mayor of Providence, had passed away on Christmas Day. After the funeral, the townsfolk begged Molly to serve as temporary mayor and, in the following November, she won the election in a landslide. But Tom’s Jewelers had been without its namesake and her without her partner for a long time now.
Suddenly, the shop door banged open, and a short, masked figure dressed entirely in black rushed in, brandishing a shiny black pistol in one hand and a backpack in the other.
“I’ve got a gun! Unlock the case and empty the loose gemstone tray in my bag now,” he threatened in a high-pitched and uneven falsetto.
Tex grabbed Sally and stepped back. Molly walked over to the main display case, unlocked the glass door with a key from her pocket, and slid it open. Reaching in, she grabbed the small, velvet tray of loose gemstones and placed it on the counter.
The would-be thief passed within inches of Molly as he grabbed handfuls of sparkling stones in his thin, plastic-gloved hand and stuffed them in his pack. As he backed towards the door, he waved the pistol and faced the others.
“Please! Don’t move and do not call the police!”
He ran out the door and careened left onto Main Street.
Molly frowned and picked up the phone.
“Chief Johnson, this is Mayor Irving. We need to talk. The store has just been robbed, and I think I know who the culprit is. Can you come over now?”
***
An hour later, the chief hitched up his belted khaki pants and walked into the Fruit Street Bakery and Café. He waved at Mabel, who offered him a laminated menu.
“Not now, Hun. I’m on police business.”
Walking to the back of the cafe, he passed ribbon-wrapped gift boxes arranged on tall, white kiosks covered with red and green twinkling lights. The chief rang the old-fashioned call bell on the glass counter of the display case, and a gray-haired man in a white baker’s coat came out of the storeroom, wiping his hands on a dish towel.
“Hello, Chief. What can I get for you today?” he asked in a soft, slightly accented voice.
“Fritz, I’m afraid I need you to come clean right now. Turn them over, and I’ll ask the district attorney to go easy on you.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he said, looking nervously around the shop.
The chief sighed.
“Fritz, Heidi’s illness has been hard on your family, but it doesn’t give you the right to steal. Did you think you would get away with robbing Molly in her own shop? Hand over the gems and I’ll do my best to help you.”
Fritz’s eyes darted down at the extensive bakery display of assorted fruitcakes, and Chief Johnston’s eyes widened as he scanned over the dried fruit-studded cakes. He looked all over the display but didn’t see any sign of the jewels.
“You’re kidding me, right? Where are they?”
Fritz reached under the counter and pulled out a large white box, carelessly tied with white string, and “SOLD” stamped across the top. Under the chief’s watchful eye, he untied the string with trembling hands and opened the lid. There, nestled on snowy white butcher paper, was a special fruitcake indeed, iced with a small pile of emeralds, rubies, and golden topazes, which glistened in the fluorescent lights of the bakery display case.
“I’m sorry, Chief. I didn’t know what else to do. Heidi’s cancer….”
“I understand, Fritz. Where’s the gun?”
“That was my grandson’s toy pistol,” Fritz explained. “I know it looked real. I threw it into the dumpster behind the store. I’m so sorry I frightened Miss Molly and those kids.”
“Didn’t you think about the consequences before you started on this life of crime? How were you going to get rid of the gems? Do you have a jewelry fence among your acquaintances?”
Fritz lowered his head and refused to look at the sheriff.
“Let’s go to the station, peaceful-like, and we’ll figure something out,” said the chief calmly.
Fritz took off his baker’s coat and came around the counter, offering his hands for the chief’s cuffs.
“Fritz, I’m not worried about you getting away. We can do without the cuffs.”
Head down, Fritz followed the chief to the front door of the shop.
Chief Johnson smiled at Molly, who appeared in the doorway.
“You got it right, as usual: the accent even in falsetto, and the slender build. Poor Fritz. You sure you don’t want to come work for me at the station?”
Molly looked at her old friend, handsome in his form-fitting khaki uniform.
“You forgot to mention the vanilla cologne he always wears! But that’s okay, Chief. I could never give up Tom’s store. It’s all I have of him now,” she said, suddenly wondering if it was time for some changes in her life.
“I’ll get the gemstones back to you as soon as I can. I’ve got to arrange a court-appointed attorney for Fritz.”
“I trust you, Chief. Don’t go too hard on Fritz because he must have been feeling pretty desperate. I’ll go check on Heidi this afternoon and contact the ladies’ auxiliary at church.”
She paused. “You know that I’m not going to press charges, and I’m sure that Tex and Sally won’t either. I plan to call our new district attorney in the morning and ask for a favor.”
“Don’t be telling me how to do my job, Mayor Irving. I’ve got to do things by the book.”
He took a deep breath, chuckled, and doffed his Stetson.
“You’re a kindhearted woman, Molly. I think you can call me Walt when we aren’t doing official town business, and I hope that the holiday season is a time of peace and prosperity…for all our sakes.”
“Amen to that,” agreed Molly.
- The Christmas Cake - December 22, 2025
