“I’m in,” he said, popping open his door and coming around the car to open mine.
We trudged through the parking lot as the snow fell like mad, my spirits lifting when I saw the lights they’d used to decorate the rink.
Hobbs pulled the door open for me, the scent of pretzels and hot chocolate greeting my nose. I watched his face as he saw the rink for the first time, with the big Christmas tree in the center and the glistening path of ice around it. He leaned against the glass surrounding the oval space and smiled.
Lights hung from the ceiling from one side of the rink to the other, glowing over the center of the ice. A small alcove with mechanical reindeer and Santa and Mrs. Claus on the far side of the rink, where parents were taking pictures of their children, was filled with the kind of laughter and excitement only Christmas can bring.
The tree, in all its glory, covered from top to bottom in glowing candle ornaments and silver garland, was almost as spectacular as the tree in the square in town. Sitting in the middle of it all, tall and elegant.
Marshmallow Hollowers zoomed around the oblong ice rink, laughing as Christmas music played, and seeing them lifted my spirits and drowned out the screams of the unknown woman.
It looked like everyone had shown up, including some of the contestants and judges from the contest. Tana was there with her husband Gerald. Jerry and Jolie, too. And even Buddy Wilson, Stiles’s nemesis, had shown up.
“This,” Hobbs said, grabbing my hand as we walked to the skate rental booth “is really something, Hal. Don’t see this much back in Texas.”
“I imagine there isn’t much ice skating back in Texas.”
“Oh, we have rinks, to be sure, but they don’t look like this. This looks like something out of a Hallmark movie.”
Smiling, I stopped at the rental booth where Jory Miller was handing out skates. “Hey, Jory, good to see you.”
His face spread into a wide smile, revealing gleaming white dentures. When we were kids, Stiles and I used to laugh and laugh when he’d push them out of his mouth into a glass and pretend his teeth had fallen out.
“Hal, how ya been, girl?”
Jory and his wife Danica owned the rink, and their bright smiles and happy optimism always lifted my spirits. “I’m doin’ okay, sir. How’s life at the rink?” I’d spent many, many of my teenage years here with Stiles, skating and goofing off. At one time, it had been a real teen hotspot.
He leaned across the counter of the booth and chucked me under the chin with a calloused finger, his neatly trimmed gray hair shining under the rink lights. “Life’s still good. Got my health, my lovely bride, and steady business. So,” he said with a slap of his gnarled hand to the counter. “What can I do ya for? You and this tall drink o’ water gonna do a little skating before the race starts?”
I grinned and looped my arm through Hobbs’s. “This tall drink o’ water is Hobbs Dainty, and he’s my boyfriend.” I used the word for the first time, and it made me giddy with pleasure. Plus, it left my cheeks pink and my toes tingling.
Jory stuck his hand out to him and shook it hard. “You be good to my girl, here, won’t ya? She’s sure good to all of us.”
Hobbs smiled in return. “I promise, sir.”
Jory winked an eye lined with age. “Now, you two need some skates? Gonna trip the light fantastic tonight?”
After we gave him our sizes, we turned to watch the skaters, scarves flying behind them, laughter filling the air, and it eased my soul a bit.
“Hey,” Hobbs said when he nudged me. “Isn’t that Ruthie from earlier today?”
I looked into the crowd and saw it was indeed Ruthie, doing, of all things, a sit-spin. “It sure is. Man, I don’t think there’s anything that girl can’t do. From yoga to ice skating.”
Hobbs nodded. “She’s pretty dang good.” Then he turned to look at me as we gathered our skates. “Just a head’s up. I skate about as well as an elephant. In other words, prepare for a few bumps and bruises.”
As we sat on a bench to put on our skates, I giggled. “I’m not exactly Michelle Kwan, but I can skate well enough to give a beginner a run for his money.”
“Why do I feel like that was a threat? Is that any way for a girlfriend to treat her boyfriend?” he asked, teasingly.
“So I guess we’re official?”
He smiled at me, his eyes warm when he stopped putting his skates on and grabbed my hand. “As in, are we exclusive with the titles that go with exclusivity? Well, I don’t want to see anyone else. Do you, Detective Lacey?”
My toes tingled in my skates. “I don’t, Detective Cagney.”
He leaned forward and dropped a sweet kiss on my lips. “Consider the deed done.” Then he rose on wobbly legs and hitched his jaw in the direction of the skating rink. “Shall we, girlfriend?”
I latched onto his hand and grinned, trying to contain my effervescent joy. “Let’s do this, boyfriend.”
We pushed our way through the crowd of people, but as we were about to step on the ice, I got a notification from Facebook, and by the way, I don’t get a ton of those. Most of our traffic at Just Claus goes through our website, but from time to time I get a direct message, and I hardly ever get any on my personal page unless it’s Atti.
Yes. Atti can use social media. He snubs it in his I’m-too-good-for-this-era way, but he almost never remembers my cell number. Facebook is an easy option. His profile’s a riot, by the way. It’s a picture of Tweety Bird and he posts memes all the time.
Anyway, I always check as a just in case.
“Hey?” Hobbs pointed to the rink. “You comin’?”
“You go ahead. I need just a second.”
Hobbs stumbled off, his ankles buckling as he held on to the sideboards, making me snicker. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I clicked on the message and sure enough, it was from Teresa Kline.
When I opened it, I fought a loud gasp.
According to the note attached to a picture Teresa Kline had sent, she’d dug this out of her scrapbook, sending it to both myself and Stiles, hoping it would help the investigation.
And the picture?
It was of Tana West and Jolie Sampson.
CHAPTER 14
“Silent night. Holy night…”
So here’s the million dollar question: Why was Tana West visiting Yule Wolfram’s mother with a toddler Jolie? They were easy enough to identify even if the photo was a little grainy. I might not have recognized Tana right away, but I knew Jolie.
Tana had tons of pictures of Jolie on her Facebook page, from when she was a newborn all the way up to only yesterday, when they’d taken a pic of themselves at Gracie Good’s hot chocolate stand.
There was no doubt Jolie was the toddler, dressed in a frilly yellow dress with cute patent-leather shoes, Tana holding her hand, smiling next to a woman in a wheelchair, her gray hair thinning, her eyes vacant.
I looked up, hoping to find Hobbs in the crowd for some suggestions, but I’d somehow lost him.
However, Tana West and Ruthie Carlisle were on the other side of the rink, sitting on a bench together, chatting like old friends as Ruthie took off her skates—which meant I needed to get my skate on and head over to the benches for an explanation.
Now, I have mentioned I’m not exactly an Olympic champion, but I can hold my own. Except for today when I most needed to be steady on my feet and zip my way through the crowded rink. I stumbled and tripped almost as badly as Hobbs had, and everyone cutting across my path wasn’t helping.
“Sorrysorrysorry!” I called out as I collided with more than one poor unsuspecting skater.
I tried to make it past a crowd of giggling teenage girls who were flirting with their eyes and whispering about the boys across the rink, but there were so many of them.
I caught a quick glimpse of my targets as they left the benches and made the short distance to the door. Helplessly, I watched as Tana took Ruthie out the back exit door, which might not be so unusual, except something sounded alarm
bells in my brain.
I don’t know why. I have no explanation. My sister Stevie calls it her Spidey senses, but I can’t say I possess those. Though, the chills on my arms said differently.
Suddenly, I had to get to them—and my gut said I had to move. Pushing my way through yet more people, I caught sight of Jolie, who waved a cheerful wave. She stood on the side of the rink, wearing a cute flared skirt, fuzzy leggings and one of her infamous hats.
“Hey, Hal! How are you? Did you hear the good news?”
I cocked my head, my stomach churning the meatloaf dinner I’d so enjoyed. “News?”
Jerry skated up beside her and wrapped his arms around her waist. “We’re having a baby!”
I wanted to jump for joy for them. I mean, no two people were more in love, but the niggling feeling in my gut wouldn’t go away.
“That’s wonderful, guys, and I want to hear all about it in just a little bit, but I just saw your mother leave with Ruthie Carlisle. I just wanted a moment with her. Any idea where they were going?”
Jolie nodded. “Yeah, Ruthie said she’s in the market for an SUV, and she really loved my mom’s. She said she saw it when she was out jogging the other day. You know…the bad day, when that Yule guy was killed. She saw Mom drive us over here in it tonight. So Mom took her out for a peek inside.”
Hold those horses. Didn’t Tana say she’d arrived here from Chester Bay in the afternoon after Yule was killed? But Jolie had gone off to the bathroom when Hobbs asked Tana when she’d arrived in Marshmallow Hollow—so she wouldn’t know that her mother told us it had been in the afternoon…
Also, hadn’t sweet Ruthie said she didn’t see anyone when she was jogging the morning Yule was killed?
But would she notice a car with no one in it as unusual?
And would it matter if she did? Lots of people parked in the parking lot overnight, right? Tana could have parked anywhere along the route Ruthie jogged and no one would have even seen her.
Was I being ridiculous—overreacting?
My heart, slamming in my chest told me something was very wrong. Smiling at Jolie so as not to arouse suspicion, I said, “What kind of SUV does your mom drive?”
“It’s a blue Subaru Forrester. So cute!” she gushed. “She just got it a few weeks ago and we love it. If the roads hadn’t been so bad tonight, we might have tried to go home, but we heard the bridge out of town is iced over.”
“Thanks, Jolie. And hey, if you see poor Hobbs, would you tell him I had to run to the ladies’ room and I’ll be right back?”
She grinned at me and nodded. “You bet.”
“Oh, and congrats again!” I yelled over my shoulder as I exited the rink and ran for the door, forgetting I was still in my skates, but I had to get to Tana and Ruthie.
Blowing out of the glass doors, I peered through the heavy snow falling and saw Tana’s SUV at the far end of the lot.
Of course it was at the far end, because I had ice skates on my feet, impeding my every step.
Of course.
I think at this point I forgot I actually possessed magic, I was so focused on finding out why Tana was in a picture with Yule’s mother. I didn’t even attempt to make the connection as I tried to stay upright.
“Ruthie!” I yelled, waving my arms as I scraped the blades of the skates, cutting through the snow and hitting the concrete.
But Ruthie was getting in the car—and that was when I focused on Ruthie’s hat.
White with fur trim.
Oh, Goddess, no. No.
Had that been Ruthie in the Airstream tied to a chair?
I screamed again, cupping my hands over my mouth. “Ruthie!”
But she got into the SUV, and I knew I had to act—and act fast. As the snow dumped heavy flakes on my head, my pulse raced in time with my mind.
An attachment spell!
Most times, people picture their thoughts in their heads. They summon a picture of where they’re going, a food they might like to eat, and so on.
Now, let me preface this by saying, I’d tried this attachment spell once—once—and it hadn’t gone quite as well as planned. I’d attached myself to a high school boyfriend’s thoughts, because I was young and immature and I just knew he was catting around on me.
Well, he wasn’t catting around on me, but he was thinking about going to a strip club with a bunch of his buddies with a fake ID. So guess where Halliday Valentine ended up?
On the pole of a strip club in her thermal pajamas.
It turned out, he was too afraid to get caught and he’d chickened out, confessing to me the next day out of guilt.
Man, did Atti give me the business for that—after he saved me, of course.
Anyway, I could try and attach myself to Tana’s thoughts if I could remember what the effin’ spell was.
Gulping, I watched the SUV chug away, cutting through the heavy snow, and I reacted. “Take me with you, don’t leave me behind. For with you I must make a bind. With this spell, we shall latch. Unto you I will attach!”
Snapping my fingers, I prayed my fluky-kooky magic didn’t fail me.
The next thing I knew, I was on my knees in deep snow, looking at a field—a snow-covered field, just like the one in my vision, minus the spring flowers—high atop something.
Blinking, I peered through the heavy snowfall to see there was nothing for miles and miles and then I looked down at my knees, buried in snow, and realized my kneecaps were hitting something solid that didn’t necessarily feel like the ground.
The wind whooshed at my back, almost knocking me forward as, using my hands, I brushed at the snow to find metal beneath the frigid flakes.
I blinked again, the wind tearing at me, my legs like frozen stumps. A field. I was in a field.
Wait, was I on top of the Airstream?
Dear Goddess!
Flattening my body, I inched my way to the edge and looked down. Holy holly berries, I was on top of the Airstream.
The moment I realized where I was is the moment I saw the headlights from Tana’s SUV.
Naturally, I didn’t think, I just rolled back the other way, making myself as small as possible—and promptly fell directly over the edge of the trailer.
I hit the ground with a hard thump, crashing into the packed snow—so hard, it stole my breath. As I fought to sit up, my jeans soaked, my legs like icicles, I oriented myself. Thankfully, I’d fallen off the backside and Tana was busy doing something in the front.
I saw the headlights of her car bounce off the ground and realized I had to make a move. But I still had my skates on.
Sweet Baba Yaga, what did a girl have to do to summon some boots? Soaking wet from the snow, I forced my brain to focus, driving my hands toward my feet. Rubbing them, I concentrated on summoning a pair of warm boots.
I felt the shift in my hands and the warmth of my magic flow through my veins as I rubbed my frozen ankles and voila—boots.
Okay, they were thigh-high boots—with some fur on the trim and dangerously high heels—but I’d take them. They were easier to get around in than ice skates.
Using the side of the trailer, I pushed my way up, pulling my phone from my back pocket to dial 9-1-1, but to my horror, it was cracked.
Closing my eyes, I flared out my frozen fingers, creating a tiny purple ball of my magic—the essence of it anyway, praying Atti would heed the vapor trail as I whispered into it, “In Marshall Langley’s field just down the road from the ice rink. Call 9-1-1. Get Stiles!” before throwing it up in the air and watching it disappear like a pigeon carrier.
But for now, I was on my own.
Then I doubted myself. I was pretty sure I was in Marshall Langley’s field. The one just at the edge of town and no more than a quarter mile from the ice rink, but with no frame of reference on a drive here, and with everything covered in so much snow, I didn’t know for sure.
Yet, I had to do something. I couldn’t wait and hope Atti got in touch with Stiles. Sneaking around the side of the t
attered trailer, I poked my head around the corner to see Tana dragging a limp Ruthie into the same door I’d seen in my vision.
And I had to stop her, because I don’t know what she was planning, but it couldn’t be good.
Though, I think I’d figured out why she had Ruthie, I couldn’t stop my stream of wild thoughts long enough to put the entirety of it together.
Tana was in the Airstream now, and over the rush of wind and through paper-thin walls, I heard what sounded like duct tape being pulled from a roll. My guess was, she was using it to tie Ruthie to that chair just like in my vision.
So here’s the conundrum. If it’s only me in the mix, I don’t care what my magic ends up doing. Only I get hurt, right? But another life? Like when they’ve been at stake during the two times before this? I couldn’t afford to take any chances.
I had to be very careful, which meant I was going to have to use my own strength until I could gather my senses. I just had to do it in a smart way.
As I hunkered outside, the wind and snow battering my face, I prayed the ripping duct tape would cease.
The rusty door swung open and Tana came out of the trailer again, her hair mussed from the wind, her eyes wild. She went to the back of her Subaru and, as she popped open the hatchback, I took the opportunity to sneak into the Airstream. I didn’t know what she was doing, but I wanted out of here before she showed us.
The only fortunate thing about this was, visibility was low from the heavy snowfall. My hope being, Tana wouldn’t see me while she was digging around in the back of her car.
I stabbed the pointy heels of my ridiculous thigh-highs into the snow, flattening myself against the side of the trailer until I reached the door, then I popped it open and hauled myself inside.
Wiping my eyes free of moisture and pushing my sodden hair behind my ears, I saw poor Ruthie Carlisle, her back to me, slumped forward and duct taped to the chair I’d seen in my vision.
And like in my vision, debris littered the floor. Old cans of beer and energy drinks were scattered everywhere, and the space where I assumed a table had once been held an old electric heater. The cabinets above a tiny stove were thrown open, revealing a cache of food wrappers.
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