Unforgettable Christmas Dreams: Gifts of Joy

by Rebecca York

  The sheriff parked in the gravel and made sure he walked on rocks or grassy spots, noticing the recent footprints were as bright as a child’s fingerpaint handprint on the wall. He pulled his phone from his pocket and snapped photos of the unusual shoe patterns, then proceeded.

  The side door of the RV was still open, a thin tracing of dried blood trailing down the aluminum steps, leading to a gummy puddle of brown dirt-and-blood soup where a car had been parked. By the spacing of the tire treads, it was the same 1980 Mercury Marquis he had seen in the parking lot. Not many of those around. He made a comment into his phone, reminding himself to check on classic cars stolen in the area. The vanity of criminals was often their downfall.

  Once inside, it was obvious what had happened. The bloody knife was in the sink, right next to the half-eaten double layer chocolate cake, the smeared letters ‘Merry Chri’ still visible. “Their vanity and their hunger,” he said, snorting in derision.

  “What were they looking for…” The sheriff pulled out an evidence baggie, turned it inside out and grasped the knife handle, carefully putting it inside.

  Nothing else seemed to have been disturbed. Books, framed photos, and knickknacks were still arranged on the shelves. A basket full of toddler toys was off in the corner, right next to a small playpen containing folded blankets and a homemade picture book. Curiosity aroused, he picked it up. Each fabric page had an ironed-on transfer photo of a different person with their title underneath: Grandma, Nana, Mommy, Daddy, Uncle, Missy, and the last page, Family. “Oh, boy.”

  The sheriff looked around the living area and searched for items matching the keywords Jesse had heard: Van and twins. There wasn’t a picture to be seen of the two men side by side. Except for the one in the baby’s book. Mom, dad, uncle, the baby, and grandmas. And the twin brothers, side by side. Earlier, when the brothers had come to his office with the tracker Vinny had placed on his car, Junior said he had told Vinny they had just met.

  “Evidence,” he said, and put it in a baggie. “If Vinny sneaks back here, I sure don’t want him to find this. Time to find ‘Family.’”

  The sheriff was ready to cordon off the area and leave the mess for the forensic experts to sift through when inspiration hit. A grin of self-righteous satisfaction grew. “Nope. No police tape today. I got the knife. That’s all I should need. Nothing else is evidence. Vinny’s evaded conviction in the past. He’ll be back to get rid of any clues that he was ever around. With all the hubbub here and at the hospital, hopefully, he’ll think his buddy already tossed the knife. I will, however, put up one of my dear cousin’s little spy cameras.”

  Sheriff O’Reilly took out the little strip of brushed metal, then looked around the room. The window right across the door had a framed poster above it. ‘Bless This Home on Wheels.’ He took it down and used the side of his fist to wipe away any dust, peeled the backing off the adhesive strip, and set the thin, wide-angle view camera in place, smack dab in the middle of the copper-colored frame, creating a patterned look. “Yup, anyone walking in will be seen. Thanks for the toy, Arlie. Who could ask for a more generous and creative relative?”

  ***

  “Dispatch, this is Sheriff O’Reilly checking in. All’s well at the Wagner’s place. Tell me, do you know if Pete ever got a landline put in?”

  “No, sir.”

  “No, you don’t know, or no they did not?”

  “No, they did not get a landline. I had lunch with Lucy last week. She said there’s a backlog on installs. She was hoping to have it before Christmas, so she would have internet and online shopping capabilities, but they told her it wouldn’t be until after the first of the year. The only way to contact them is face-to-face or send them a letter.”

  “I’ll take the former. I’m going out there now. Since I’ll be incommunicado, make sure my grandson doesn’t do anything stupid. I mean, you don’t have to do anything, just give him ‘the look.’ You know, the one you give your daughter?”

  “Oh, yeah. After rearing her four brothers, I got ‘the look’ down just right. Anything else? If you want, I can have Butch join us for dinner.”

  “Great. That’d take a load off my plate.”

  “Speaking of plates, boss, I’ll make one up for you, too.”

  “Thanks, Charity. Your mom and dad gave you the perfect name. O’Reilly over and out.”

  ***

  “Someone’s here,” Cindy called out. “I think you have a stalker, Mama.”

  Cecelia walked to the window, scowling. When she saw it was the sheriff’s truck, she smiled as bright as a polished silver Christmas ornament. “Oh! It’s Riley!”

  “That’s O’Reilly,” Pete said. “I’ve known that old coot for years. What’s he doing here; bringing me a fruitcake?”

  “Pbbt! If he’s coming out here, it’s probably business. At least, I don’t see anything in his hands,” Loretta said, then batted her eyelashes at Pete. Again.

  Pete returned her gesture with an uncomfortable grin, then turned away and rolled his eyes, suppressing his huff of frustration. Cute, silly, a great cook, and with the roundest ass in the world. She’s everything a man could want in a woman…except she’s a lesbian. Why does she keep flirting with me? Is she trying to make me crazy?

  Lady the golden retriever gave her perfunctory ‘woof’ to announce a visitor, then went back under the table, out of reach of little Missy Lou’s fast fingers.

  Cindy had the door opened before the sheriff had a chance to knock. “Come on in. It’s cold out there.”

  “Hey, Pete,” O’Reilly said, as he stepped in, looking around the room to see how many of the Wagners were there. “Looks like you have a full house.”

  “Yeah, I do,” Pete said. “Ain’t it great? It’s my birthday dinner. I think you know everyone here, except maybe Cecelia,” he added with a wink.

  The normally composed sheriff blushed as he looked down at the floor, then over at Cecelia to see if she was sporting a rosy glow, too. She was. “We’re acquainted,” he said. “I don’t mean to intrude on your celebration, but I have a little business I need to conduct.”

  “All right,” Van said. “You can do a little of that ‘B’ word on one condition: you agree to stay for dinner.”

  “But…but…it’s barely noon,” O’Reilly protested, looking up at the clock on the wall.

  “Yup. That means you’ll have to wait a whole hour and a half for the turkey to be done,” Pete said. “Loretta’s making some of her famous cranberry, orange, and apple relish to go with it, too. You can’t say no, or I’ll let the air out of your tires.”

  “You know that’d be obstruction of justice,” the sheriff said, pouting a feigned frown.

  “Yup, and you wouldn’t want to arrest a man so close to Christmas, him having all this family around him for the first time, well, ever! Even Jesse and Rosa will be here for dinner.”

  “All right, but we have to get serious here really quick. Come on, everyone. Sit down, so I can make sure you all hear.”

  “Okay. Now you’re scaring me,” Pete said. He settled into his recliner and kicked out the footrest. “Where’s that baby? I haven’t held her in a whole hour, at least.”

  Kitchen chairs were used to supplement the sofa and recliner, and the baby set on Pete’s lap. “Okay, now we’re ready.”

  “All right, we have a problem,” O’Reilly said. “And by that, I mean the Wagners and me.”

  “Why you?” Pete asked.

  “Because I’m sheriff. Just hush a minute and let me finish.”

  After the giggles died down, O’Reilly continued. “Earlier, Van and Junior came to me with a concern. It seems a couple of hired assassins have been haunting the area. Today, they broke into Loretta and Cecelia’s RV.”

  The room sizzled with gasps that all escaped at the same time. “One of the men cut his finger trying to steal a slice of the chocolate cake he found.”

  “My cake!” Loretta yelped, then said, “Sorry. Go ahead.”

  “V
inny — the one Van identified by name — took the wounded man to the hospital. While they were there, Jesse overheard them say something about twins, Wagners, and contracts. I’m pretty sure they weren’t talking about movie contracts, either. Oh, yeah. And someone named Friday.”

  “My birth mother’s personal assistant,” Van said. “Pbbt. She’s as dirty as Vinny the Axe.”

  “Vinny the Axe!” Cecelia squeaked, her voice high with fear, then the others joined in with their concerns.

  Panicked comments milled about until O’Reilly hollered, “Hold on! Now look, it’s pretty obvious to me that someone wants one or both of you young men gone. I’d say it was you, Van, since you’re the new guy in town. Or newer. Plus, I can’t see anyone going after a married man who has a little girl and another one on the way. I think we’re all involved with this, some more than others. Do you care to enlighten us? It’ll make a big difference on how I protect everyone.”

  “Care to? No, I don’t care to,” Van said wryly, then chuckled. “But, since I love each and every one of you and don’t want to see anyone hurt, here’s what I know. My birth mother’s name is Zelda.”

  Van looked at Cecelia. “Only Mama knows what kind of person she really is. She didn’t want to split an inheritance, so she gave my twin brother,” he nodded to Junior, “away to the midwife.” He nodded to Cecelia. “That was great for Junior, rotten for me. Bottom line is our bio-dad has mega bucks — as in, he’s a billionaire. A whole lotta good it did him with being a parent, but I digress. Zelda has been waiting for him to die for a long time. He’s a lot older than she is and has been in poor health ever since I can remember.

  “Personally, I think he’s too ornery to die. He hasn’t figured out how to turn a profit out of being dead, so he just doesn’t cave in to the cancer, diabetes, or whatever the latest malady is. With a living and acknowledged heir — me — Zelda would only get half of his estate. Or less. He keeps the will and trust information pretty close to his bony chest. Whether she gets half of everything or nothing, I don’t know. However, the one thing that’s pretty certain is that if I’m dead, she’ll get everything that was due me.”

  “Unless your father has named an institution or someone else as his beneficiary,” Cecelia said. “Sorry, that sounds crass, but it’s true. Now, on the other hand, if your father was to find out there was a twin, you and she would only get half as much. Or a third, depending on whether she’s named in the paperwork.”

  “Bingo!” Van said. “So, I decided it was better to stay low, out of sight and alive, and keep the fact that I have a twin a secret. Two hidden birds that, hopefully, no one will want to throw stones at. I really appreciate having your last name now, too.”

  “So, what is your last name?” Lucy asked. “I mean, if we’re getting married…”

  Van reached over and grabbed her hand, then kissed it. “There’s no if we’re getting married, but when we get married. I’m keeping the Wagner name. As far as the name Van der Cleft goes, it’s a nightmare. If there was a way I could erase all the memories and bad decisions I made…” His bottom lip quivered as he tried to suppress the visions of the crass and violent deeds that were flooding in.

  “Honey,” Lucy said, “I’m fine with whatever name we want to use. I was just wondering if there was a family name we were going to hand down. Wait! You’re Charles Van der Cleft the Third? The missing heir?”

  “Guilty. Very guilty.”

  “Yes,” Cecelia said, “but you didn’t have any part in receiving that name. You were innocent.”

  “Yes, but I did have control over what I did wrong later in life,” Van said, looking at Junior, then the picture of Carson that was still on the mantel.

  Junior stood up and took the handcrafted framed snapshot of Pete and his godson Carson — the man Junior had witnessed Van murder while high — and handed it to Lucy. “Would you put this somewhere for now? We’ll talk about it later. Just you and me. Please?”

  Lucy looked from Van to Pete, and then back to Junior. “Sure,” she said, and put it in the bottom drawer of the end table. “I don’t know what’s going on with that,” Lucy said, “but I agree with Cecelia. A child brought up in hostile situations, without structure or the knowledge of what is right or wrong, is bound to make bad decisions. So, Sheriff, how do we get rid of these bad guys?”

  “Ah, that’s my niece,” Pete said. “Always practical and ready to fix up anything and anybody.”

  Van gave her a big hug, then a quick kiss. “That’s one of the many things I love about her.”

  The sheriff brought out the plastic bag with Missy Lou’s kiddie version of her family album. “Here,” he said, handing it to Pete who still held the baby on his lap. “This is the only thing around that I could find without tearing up C’s home that shows Junior and Van’s relationship; the verification that there really are two of them. Right now, all I can bring against Vinny is breaking and entering. I grabbed the knife the cake snatcher was using when he nearly cut off his finger. I don’t think they took anything, though.”

  “Ew, I feel so violated. Someone breaking into our home,” Loretta said.

  “Wait. You mean Zelda wants to kill her own son just so she can get more money when her husband dies?” Cecelia asked.

  Sheriff O’Reilly subconsciously rubbed the center of his chest where he had been shot months before. “I’d say that’s what’s going on. I’ll bet she’s the one who sent the assassin who just about did in both Van and me this summer.”

  “Killer Queen,” Van said softly, then grinned at the memory of her quick but gruesome death, smeared into the asphalt by a semi truck. “At least we don’t have to worry about her anymore.”

  Pete’s hands came up around the now dozing baby’s head. “What can we do to keep everyone safe?”

  “Put the bad guys in jail, right?” Cecelia asked, looking up at O’Reilly.

  “Have to have a reason,” he said.

  Jesse and Rosa had come in during the discussion and were standing by the door, removing their coats and taking in all the concerns. “Right now,” Jesse said, “I’ll bet the short guy is spending all his time looking after the big one. From what Doc was telling us before we left,” he patted Rosa’s shoulder, “there’s enough pain killer in the pills and syringes he gave him to keep even that three-hundred-pound gorilla dozing for two days. I’d say we have a reprieve.”

  “Let’s hope so. Dinner smells great, my grandson’s taken care of for the evening, and I haven’t had a chance to relax since…” O’Reilly looked over at Cecelia, unintentionally making her blush with the memory of their afternoon tryst the week before. “Anyways, I think we’re all due for a break. It’s almost Christmas, so let’s make sure we pray for peace on earth, but especially for our little slice of Oregon and Nevada.”

  “Amen!” Van shouted, a little louder than the others.

  Missy Lou started at the noise but stayed asleep.

  “Amen,” the sheriff repeated.

  ***

  “Hey, Sheriff,” Pete said when the two of them were alone on the porch, waiting for Lady to come back from her evening potty break. “What’s going on between you and Cecelia? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were sweet on her. Gotta tell you, though, you’re wasting your effort.”

  “Huh? Wasting my… Yes, I’m sweet on her, but why would I be wasting anything on her? She’s a charming woman with a wonderful family. She gets a kick out of Butch, too. She says he reminds her of Junior when he was that age.”

  Pete laughed, then slapped his knee. He leaned back in his rocker and started back and forth. “How can you do that? She’s a lesbian! She and Loretta have been together for years. Haven’t you noticed Junior and Cindy, and now Van, call her Mama and Loretta, Mom?”

  “Yeah, well if she’s a lesbian, then I can see Loretta’s attraction. Man, can she kiss! No, she’s not gay. They’re sisters.”

  “So. Can’t sisters be lesbians?” Pete asked, leaning forward, unsure of that p
ossibility.

  “I guess they could, but these two aren’t. They’re together out of necessity. Sort of. At least, Cecelia said it started that way. Her sister was in poor health with diabetes and whatnot, so she stepped in to make sure she was taken care of. Then she got Junior as a newborn. It was easier for them to raise a child together than just Cecelia. Not that Loretta would have let the boy out of her sight..”

  O’Reilly’s face split into a big grin. “C told me she wasn’t romantically interested in any man until she met me. I think it was because she was so busy bringing up Junior, and then becoming a grandma to Missy Lou.” He sighed deeply. “But it sure is nice having a gal of my own.”

  “Are you sure?” Pete asked, looking deep into his friend’s face.

  “Positive.”

  “Whoa! Wait!” Pete said as realization hit. “But then that means Loretta’s available!”

  “Only if she wants to be. But by the way her eyes follow you around everywhere you go, I’d say she was interested in you, too. Do you really think anyone needs as much yard art and planters as those two? Their place looks like a timber craftsman garden of wonders between all the goods you and Van made, and all the birdhouses and bird castles Junior created.”

  Pete laughed. “Yeah, she does seem to wind up here at least once a week, always with a dish to share, too. Speaking of sharing dishes…” He stood up and whistled for the dog. Lady was there in a flash, tail wagging, tongue hanging out with her big doggy smile. “Let’s go in and see how Loretta’s doing in the kitchen, shall we? I feel like I just got the key to heaven handed me. All I need is to let her know I’m ready.”

  “Oh, good grief.” O’Reilly stood up to join him. “Show a little restraint, would you? You’re an embarrassment to the male sex.”

  “Sex! Now that’s what I’m talking about. It’s been a long time, but from what I hear, it’s just like riding a bicycle. Just climb on and it all comes back to you.”

  “Ew! If you approach her like that, you’ll lose her before you get to first base. Go gentle into any new relationship. If it doesn’t work out, you can always stay friends.”