by Cate Conte
The rush of relief was overwhelming. I didn’t much like them, but I was really glad they weren’t dead. “What now?” I muttered.
Grandpa slowed down and I knew he was totally going to stop to see what was going on. I thought about encouraging him to drive past and try to stay out of it, although odds of that working out were about zero to none. It was more likely that he would take on the role of Chief Mancini—stop the car, be polite, and see what was going on and if we could help. Edie might throw a snowball at me anyway, but at least I could say we tried.
Grandpa pulled the truck over and rolled down the window. I took the lead, leaning past him to call out. “Hi there. Everything okay, Edie?”
Three heads swiveled around to look at us. The cop looked curious. Thankfully it wasn’t McDonald from last night, or the one who had almost arrested Avery. Trey looked confused. Edie looked angry. Her eyes narrowed to slits when she looked past Grandpa and recognized me.
“I should say not,” she said, her voice shrill with tension. “Ever since your friends came to town, they’ve brought nothing but trouble to all of us. Murders and burglaries! And now we’ve had a theft too! A family heirloom has been stolen!”
“Now hold on just a minute, ma’am,” Grandpa said, shoving the truck into PARK. I recognized his uber-polite tone as the one he used right before he lost his temper.
I placed a hand on his arm and squeezed, a silent request to let me speak. “I’m sorry to hear you’ve had something stolen, Edie, but I can assure you it has nothing to do with me or my friends,” I said coolly. “Besides, since most people have been chased away by the very warm welcome they’ve received from some of the neighbors here, I’m pretty much the only one at this point. So I hope you’re not suggesting I stole anything.” I stared her down. I could see Grandpa Leo smiling in my peripheral vision.
That shut her up. She actually stammered a bit when she responded. “Of course not. I just—we are devastated about our antique Christmas sleigh being stolen, that’s all. It belonged to my father.” She wiped a nonexistent tear away to heighten the drama. “And we’ve never, ever had such problems around here before. I mean, the Wilkies’ light-up reindeers were stolen the other day too!” She gestured to the house across the street. “And it’s completely ruining Christmas.”
No mention of Virgil and how his death might put a bit more of a damper on the mood. Odd, given her relationship with the Prousts. I resisted the urge to tell her to revisit How the Grinch Stole Christmas for a reminder about the meaning of the season. “I’m sorry to hear that, Edie. I hope you find your sleigh soon.”
I could tell she was trying to decide if I was being sincere. Finally she gave up on me and turned to Grandpa. “You look familiar. Do I know you?”
“Leo Mancini. Former police chief of Daybreak Harbor,” he said, sticking his hand out the window to shake hers.
Edie gaped at him, the recognition dawning. So did the cop, who had been watching this exchange with a smirk. He immediately stood at attention, looking like he was about to salute Grandpa.
“Sir. It’s an honor to meet you,” he said. “I’ve heard a lot about you. Officer Kevin Handy.”
“As you were, Officer Handy,” Grandpa said with an amused smile. “This is my granddaughter, Maddie. She’s helping out with the neighborhood cat colony.”
Handy frowned. “The what?”
Oh, come on, I wanted to say. Another one playing dumb. There was no way the entire force of what, five people, hadn’t been briefed on this, likely multiple times. “The feral cat colony. Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of it. It’s been the biggest news in this town since probably before I was born. Unless you count the multi-colored Christmas-lights scandal.” I couldn’t help myself. Sarcasm was, after all, a big part of my nature.
Edie huffed out an indignant breath but said nothing.
“White lights are classier,” Trey said matter-of-factly, clearly missing his wife’s cue to stay quiet. They were the first words I’d heard him utter.
I arched my eyebrows at him. He had the grace to look down at his boots and scuff his feet into the snow.
Handy, meanwhile, was still mulling over my comment. I feared he wasn’t that bright. “Christmas-lights scandal?” he asked. “When was that?”
Grandpa took pity on him and jumped in. “How long have you been with the force, Officer?”
“Almost two years, sir.”
Grandpa nodded. “I hear you boys just caught a big case.”
“’Fraid so, sir.”
“Well, always happy to help in an unofficial capacity,” Grandpa said.
Edie looked like she was about to stomp her foot to bring the attention back to herself. “Maybe you can help them figure out how to investigate the burglaries,” she said to Grandpa. “Because it’s been going on for weeks and nothing’s happened!”
Grandpa cocked his head. “Well, on my force murders trumped anything, but you’re saying houses have been broken into as well?”
“Not that we know of,” Trey said. “Just stuff outside.”
“Ah. Then it’s a simple theft,” Grandpa said. “Burglaries are, by definition, about entering a building.”
Edie didn’t look particularly grateful for the clarification.
Grandpa, clearly enjoying himself, glanced at me. “What do you think, doll? Should we get feeding?”
I nodded. “Yes, we should go.”
“Do you, uh, need any help, sir?” Officer Handy asked.
I thought about making Officer Handy escort us into the woods. Maybe carrying the food. But I knew Grandpa wouldn’t let me.
“No, thank you,” Grandpa said. “Except maybe to make sure your force is treating my granddaughter and her friends with respect when they come out here. They’re doing a community service helping these cats, and they’ve been given nothing but a hard time.”
Officer Handy’s face turned red. “I’m sorry about that, sir. And, ma’am,” he added, peering in at me.
But Grandpa was on a roll. “I understand someone also vandalized one of the shelters that a bunch of school kids built for the cat food,” he said, with a glance at Edie and Trey. “No one reported it because, well, frankly they thought it wouldn’t be treated seriously. But I think any kind of theft or vandalism is serious, don’t you agree, Officer?”
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Trey’s face redden as he stared studiously at the ground.
Handy nodded so vigorously I feared his hat would fly off. “Absolutely, sir. Would you like me to take a report on that now?” He fumbled for his pen and notebook, dropping both before he got himself together.
I could see Edie getting madder by the minute.
“No, Officer, we’ll let it go this time,” Grandpa said. “But like I said. I’d really like a promise from you that your force will be looking out for everyone in this neighborhood, even the visitors.”
“Of course, sir. You have my word.”
“Thank you, Officer,” Grandpa said. “I’ll be sure to put in a good word with Chief Dunn.” Chief Dunn was Turtle Point’s chief—Handy’s boss.
“Thank you, sir.”
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep from laughing, then turned to Edie and Trey with my best solemn look. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” I said gravely. “I hope it’s just a kid playing a prank and you get your property back soon.”
Grandpa lifted his hand in a wave and we drove slowly down past the Prousts’ house, where all that was left of last night’s events was some yellow crime-scene tape strung across the lawn. I could feel the little group’s eyes on us as we parked in front of the Hacketts’ and unloaded our supplies. It wasn’t until we were in the woods out of earshot that I turned to Grandpa with a big grin.
“I should’ve brought you out here from the start,” I said. “That was awesome.”
He waved me off. “Poor kid. He has no clue. But I was being serious. I am going to call Dunn. There was a murder out here, and I want that police f
orce watching over all of you volunteers as much as they are their constituency.”
“Thanks, Grandpa.” As we got to work, my thoughts drifted back to Edie and Trey. Who would come back overnight after all that chaos and steal a giant Christmas sleigh? I’d seen Edie and Trey’s sleigh. It was huge. I’m sure it was easy enough to pull away, but it seemed like a bold move right after a man was murdered. Whoever had done it had to be pretty set on their objective.
But what was the objective?
And why had Trey looked so guilty when Grandpa mentioned the vandalized cat shelter? I thought about Adele’s assessment of him the other day. He was certainly strong enough. But what would he have to gain from it?
Chapter 13
Thursday, December 24, Christmas Eve: two days after the murder
7 p.m.
I’d forgotten how much chaos went into a Mancini-James holiday. Especially a holiday as cherished as Christmas. Our family had always done Christmas Eve big. There was something magical about the night, long before it got to the hour when Santa’s sleigh passed over all the houses. The coziness of it all—the fire in Grandpa’s fireplace, Christmas carols playing, the giant tree standing proudly in the living room. While I’d loved my life out West, the holiday vibe just hadn’t been the same for this transplanted New Englander. It wasn’t Christmas if you weren’t freezing your butt off and/or had at least a dusting of snow on the ground.
I’d worried about how Grandpa would do on his first Christmas without Grandma. He hadn’t talked about it at all. Christmas had been his and Grandma’s favorite, and it would be hard for him. Hard for all of us. My mom and I had already brought some lovely Christmas arrangements to her grave. But he’d surprised us a couple of weeks ago. Val and I had come home from grabbing lunch and found Grandpa and Ethan covered in pine needles, wrestling with one of the biggest trees I’d ever seen. Grandpa had looked up from under it, where he was securing the tree into the stand, and shook his head. “You girls weren’t supposed to be home for hours. The lights were supposed to be on when you got here.”
Later that night, my parents and my younger sister Sam came over and we all decorated it, like we used to do when we three girls were kids. While I’d come home for most Christmases while I lived away, I hadn’t been part of the prep in a long time.
It felt good to be home.
Truth be told, I enjoyed the tree decorating much more than the cooking. As usual, there were way too many of us crammed in the kitchen, trying to make enough food to accommodate all the people who would ultimately visit. In my case, it wasn’t because I was compelled to cook or felt especially useful trying to do so. It was more obligatory. Which meant I was in the way. My mother and Sam were making the fish and arguing over how much seasoning to add to each dish. Ethan was skillfully ducking between them and just doing it. Val was putting appetizer platters together, ignoring them all. Grandpa was hovering over the pot where his potatoes were theoretically boiling, although they would never get there if he kept taking the lid off. He was also in the way.
Finally, mercifully, I poured myself a glass of wine and ducked out to the living room where my dad was keeping out of the fray with some of our early bird guests—a couple of Grandpa’s friends talking about cop days, and Anne Marie, Dad’s longtime assistant at the hospital. Dad had the new kitten, Gimley, on his lap, while JJ lounged at his feet. JJ loved parties, especially when he could command all the attention. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that Gimley would be going to his new home shortly after the holiday. I dropped into Grandpa’s recliner and sipped my wine.
My dad regarded me with an amused smile. “Chaos in there?”
I nodded. “But it all smells good. I’m starving.”
The bell rang. We all looked at each other. “I’ll get it,” I said, since no one else moved. And technically it was my house.
I pulled the front door open to find Cass smiling at me on the porch. I gasped and threw my arms around him for a hug. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed his hugs lately until that moment. He was a solid mass of muscle, and he gave really good, strong hugs that made you feel like you could hide there. I buried my face against his chest. As always, he smelled of sage and some other kind of herbs.
Cass could’ve been in his fifties, but really he was ageless. He hailed from Haiti, as was apparent by his thick accent. His hair hung in thin braids down to his waist and he wore thick silver rings on every finger. He was pretty much the coolest person I knew.
“My long-lost mentee,” he said, stepping back to look me over. “You look tired.”
“Exhausted,” I said. “Come in.” I’d no sooner shut the door behind him and accepted the bottle of fancy rum he always brought over on the holidays when the door opened again and Becky’s curly blond hair popped in.
“Merry Christmas,” she called.
Grandpa, who didn’t miss a trick, stuck his head out from the kitchen. “Everyone go off the record!”
I had to laugh. It was his favorite joke whenever Becky was around. She took it like a good sport.
“Yeah, yeah. It’s fine. I’m not above using anonymous sources,” she said, ushering her mother in ahead of her. Donna Walsh was an older version of Becky—same blond curls, same baby blue eyes. She looked exactly the same as she had when Becky and I had been kids.
I tucked the rum under my arm and took the giant platter of cookies out of Becky’s hands. My dad had already pulled Cass into a conversation, so I focused on Becky. “Thank you for this. You didn’t have to,” I said. “Hi, Mrs. W. Can I get you some wine?” I kissed her cheek.
“That would be lovely, honey.”
“Go, have a seat and chat with my dad,” I said, waving at the chair I’d just vacated. JJ saw her coming and ran toward her, squeaking his signature squeak. The first time I’d heard it I’d cracked up—this big, tough cat with such a cute little sound—but he’d been offended and I’d had to make it up to him with lots of treats. And for the record, everyone who met him was utterly charmed by his squeak.
After she’d greeted JJ appropriately, Becky followed me to the dining room to find a spot for the cookies. A giant crash came from the kitchen. I winced. “So glad I’m not in there. It’s a bit of a mess.”
“I bet. Hey, speaking of mess. Have you heard from Lucas at all?” She blinked innocently at me. “You haven’t mentioned him.”
I shot her a look. “I’m trying not to be in a bad mood, thanks.”
“So does that mean you haven’t heard anything?” she persisted, like a true reporter.
I hadn’t told her about my visit to the grooming salon last week. I hadn’t told anyone except Val, and only because she’d happened upon me right after I returned from that little visit. I didn’t necessarily want to tell anyone else.
“Nothing,” I said. It wasn’t entirely a lie. I hadn’t heard directly from him. But I had heard that he was alive and well. I found a spot for the cookies between all the other sweets we’d already put out and deposited the tray. “I’ll get you a drink.”
“Bourbon, please,” Becky said.
“Make it a double,” I muttered and went to get the drinks.
The doorbell rang again. It would be like this all night—people were forever dropping in on Christmas Eve. The island was small, and we pretty much knew everyone. Grandpa had invited Leopard Man and his new girlfriend, Ellen the librarian, and I was expecting Katrina too. She usually spent Christmas Eve with us. She and her mom weren’t super close, and we were like her family.
No one was moving to get the door, so I detoured from my drinks to do it myself. But it wasn’t Leopard Man, or Katrina. It was Craig, who I wasn’t expecting. And Jade Bennett. I knew they’d been dating, but didn’t know it was Christmas Eve–serious dating. Jade held a bottle of wine and Craig had a gift bag and a platter of something.
“Hey,” I said, not really sure what to say.
“Hey,” Craig said back. He looked kind of uncomfortable.
“I th
ink she means merry Christmas.” My mother suddenly appeared next to me, gently pushing me out of the way, and took the platter from Craig’s hands.
“Of course,” I said. “Merry Christmas. I didn’t know you were coming.” I cocked my head at my mother, who clearly did. “Hey, Jade,” I said as she stepped inside. “Nice to see you.”
“You too.” Jade gave me an awkward hug.
“Thanks for inviting us,” Craig said to my mom, and handed her the gift bag.
“Thank you, dear.” My mom took them. “I’ll put them under the tree. Maddie, maybe you can get them drinks?”
Drinks. Shoot. I still hadn’t gotten Becky’s bourbon. Or mine, for that matter. “Yes. Of course. What can I get you?”
“Wine is fine for me,” Jade said. “Red, please.”
“I’ll have the same,” Craig said.
I gave him a funny look. He never drank wine. But apparently his tastes had changed now that he was dating the bar owner.
“You got it. Be right back. You can hang out in there.” I waved toward the living room, then went into the kitchen.
Val had two plates of appetizers in her hands, which I almost knocked over when I came through the door. “Sorry,” I muttered, grabbing the nearest bottle of red and the bottle of Bulleit bourbon from the liquor stash on the far end of the counter.
I’d just finished filling all the glasses when my mother came in. “Let me help you,” she said, picking up the wine glasses.
“Mom. What is that about?”
She paused on her way back to the door. “What?”
“Inviting Craig and Jade? It’s kind of uncomfortable for them, no?”
“Uncomfortable for them? Maddie. Honey. Craig is just like Becky and Katrina. Old friends. Family, basically. Why wouldn’t we invite him?”
So many reasons. He had always been kind of jealous of Lucas. And now that Lucas was out of the picture, I would have thought he might not want to make me uncomfortable by bringing his new girlfriend to my house so I could see how happy and in love they were.