by Sarah Fox
With a blast of icy air, the front door opened and seven new customers came into the pub. As they shed their outerwear I realized that Grayson was one of the new arrivals, accompanied by members of his hockey team.
They claimed two adjacent tables, talking and laughing as they got settled. Damien was closer to the group, so he took their drink orders while I stayed behind the bar. Grayson detached himself from the group and headed my way. I tried to ignore the flutter of butterflies in my chest as he approached.
“Is this a celebration?” I asked when he reached the bar.
“More like commiseration.”
“You lost?” That surprised me, considering how jovial his teammates were. “No one seems too upset.”
“It was a good game and we had fun.” Grayson glanced over at his team. “Plus, the drinks are on me.”
“Ah,” I said with a smile. “Is Damien getting you something?”
“He is, but I wanted to run an idea by you.”
“Oh?” I wondered if he was about to change our Christmas plans.
“How about next year the brewery and the pub have a combined hockey team?”
The suggestion was so unexpected that it threw me for a second.
“You’d want to do that?” I asked once I’d collected myself.
“I think we’d be a force to be reckoned with.”
I pictured us playing together rather than against each other, Jason, Mel, and Damien also on our team. It made me look forward to next year.
“You know what?” I said, smiling again. “I think you’re right.”
* * *
As the hour of the parade drew closer, business slowed, as Mel had predicted.
“Why don’t you go check out the parade for a while?” Damien suggested.
“Don’t you want to go?” I asked.
“I’ve been more times than I can count. I’d rather stay here where it’s warmer, to tell the truth. My girls will be there, though.”
“Aunt Gilda and Shontelle will be too.”
“Go on then,” Damien said.
“All right. But I’ll do my best to beat the crowd back here.”
I filled a travel mug with hot chocolate from the kitchen and bundled up before heading outdoors. A sizable crowd milled about on the green and people lined the streets around the square. On my way across Creekside Road, I waved to Bobby. He was working crowd control, wearing a bright orange reflective vest and keeping people off the streets, which had been blocked to keep vehicle traffic away.
I set off in the direction of Aunt Gilda’s salon, hoping I could find her. With the streetlamps providing the only light, it wasn’t easy to pick familiar faces out of the crowd.
As I edged my way toward Sycamore Street, I nearly bumped into a short, plump woman.
“Sorry,” I apologized as I sidestepped to avoid her.
Before I got any farther, I realized I recognized a man up ahead.
“Hello, Mr. Hawkes,” I greeted as I stopped next to him.
“Hello,” Eli said as he regarded me with confusion.
I could tell he didn’t know who I was.
“I’m Sadie Coleman. I own the Inkwell Pub.”
“Oh, right. Here to see the parade?”
“Yes, if I can find a good spot.”
I thought I caught a glimpse of Aunt Gilda across the street, and for a second I was torn between heading her way and staying put. My desire to help Mel won out.
“You were at the town hall the night Freddy was killed,” I said to Eli.
He seemed surprised to find that I was still next to him. “Yes,” he said after a moment. “I was.” He looked more closely at me. “Are you the one who found him after . . . ?”
“That’s right.”
“A terrible business,” he said with a shake of his head. “A real shame. Freddy should’ve had decades ahead of him.”
“Did you notice anything suspicious that night?” I asked.
“I couldn’t have. I left before Freddy did.”
“Nobody was loitering outside when you left?”
“Not that I noticed.”
Lara elbowed her way through the crowd to get to us. “You leave my dad alone!” she practically hissed at me.
I took a step back, startled by the vehemence behind her words.
“Now, Lara. There’s no need to be rude,” her father admonished.
“She’s the one being rude by pestering you with questions!”
“I didn’t mean any harm,” I said.
Lara continued as if she hadn’t heard me. “Leave me and my family alone.” She took her father’s arm. “Come on, Dad. Mom’s waiting for us down the road.”
I stared after them as they made their way around the spectators milling about on the green.
Music blared in the distance and an excited murmur ran through the crowd. The parade had started, and I still hadn’t found Aunt Gilda. I stood on tiptoes to peer over the shoulders of the people in front of me, but I couldn’t spot my aunt. Giving up, I moved along the green until I found a spot where I could get closer to the road. I’d just have to watch the parade without Aunt Gilda’s company.
As I claimed my spot by the curb, I noticed a shimmer of colored lights down the road. The music grew louder. The song was an enthusiastic rendition of “Walking in a Winter Wonderland.” The first float came into view, garnering cheers from the crowd. Towed by a pickup truck adorned with lights, reindeer antlers, and a red nose, the float had been decorated to look like a magical winter forest. Snowmen danced among trees decked out with bright lights, accompanied by bouncing and prancing children dressed up like cute woodland critters.
The next float was a compact version of Santa’s workshop. Several elves were busy making toys while shimmying to the music, but Saint Nick was nowhere to be seen.
The first song came to an end and another one started up. This time it was “Jingle Bells.” People in the crowd began singing along and several kids bounced up and down in time to the music.
The next float was decorated to look like a gingerbread house. A gingerbread man stood in the open doorway, waving to the crowd.
All of the floats that followed were bedazzling with their lights and decorations. Bringing up the rear was one of the trucks from the local fire department, its siren off but its lights flashing.
The children in the crowd jumped and cheered with excitement when they realized Santa Claus was on board. The kids got even more hyped up when Santa waved to them and tossed handfuls of lollipops to the people lining the street.
One lollipop beaned me right between the eyes. Luckily, it didn’t hurt much. I handed it to a little boy holding his mother’s hand, the flashing lights of the fire engine reflected in his wide eyes. His face lit up when I handed him the candy.
As the fire engine turned the corner, the crowd around me began to slowly disperse. I figured I’d better head back to the Inkwell, but that wasn’t as easy as I expected. Children were running across the green in the hope of getting another look at Santa—or another lollipop—as the parade meandered along Hemlock Street on the far side of the square. Parents followed behind them, some chasing and some unconcerned, while other people wandered off in all different directions.
I had to keep darting around slow-moving clusters of people and I almost got my feet stepped on by a large man who towered above me. I quickly ducked out of his way, saving my toes in the nick of time.
I let out a sigh of relief as I managed to break free of the thinning crowd. Something niggled at the back of my mind and I paused. My subconscious was trying to tell me something, but what? I glanced around, searching for whatever might have triggered the feeling.
Emery and her friends were in the crowd behind me, along with a couple of other people I recognized as Inkwell customers. Nothing clicked together in my mind. The feeling faded, but the memory of it left me on edge.
A hand closed around my arm. I gasped and spun around.
“Aunt Gilda,”
I said with relief. The smile spreading across my face faltered when I saw her expression.
“Oh, honey,” she said sadly. “I just heard the news.”
“What news?” I asked, apprehension settling in my stomach like a lump of lead. I didn’t think she was talking about Penny’s release.
“About Mel. You haven’t heard? The police showed up at her apartment and arrested her.”
Chapter 28
I didn’t sleep well that night, but probably better than Mel did. I couldn’t stop thinking about her locked away in a cell. It wasn’t fair or right and I worried that she wouldn’t be free anytime soon. I really had let her down, even though I knew she’d never see it that way.
In the morning I didn’t bother getting dressed right away. I should have been getting ready for the snowshoe race, but Mel’s situation had left me far too dispirited to compete in the event. When I checked my phone, I found a good-luck text message from Shontelle. I sent her a quick reply, telling her about my change of plans.
I curled up on the couch with a book and a cup of coffee. The book ended up on the side table a few minutes later. I’d read the same paragraph several times and couldn’t get my mind to focus.
Wimsey was lounging on the back of the couch. I ran my hand over his silky white fur.
“What should I do, Wims? I feel so useless.”
Wimsey closed his eyes with contentment. Human troubles didn’t concern him. Lucky cat.
I let out a deep sigh and then nearly jumped out of my skin when my door buzzer sounded. My phone chimed at the same time.
It’s me at the door, the new text from Shontelle read.
I hurried downstairs, still in my pajamas. I unlocked the pub’s front door and shivered as Shontelle breezed in with a blast of bone-chilling air. I shut the door quickly and rubbed my arms.
Shontelle took in the sight of my pajamas. “You aren’t even dressed!”
“What’s the point?” I asked. “The pub doesn’t open until noon.”
She put a hand to my back and steered me to the stairway that led to my apartment. “You’ve got a snowshoe race starting in one hour.”
“I told you I decided not to enter.”
“You have to.”
“I can’t. Not with Mel locked away in jail.” I opened the door at the top of the stairs and led the way into my apartment.
“And what can you do about her being in jail?” Shontelle asked.
“Nothing.”
“Exactly. You’ve been looking forward to this race for weeks, Sadie. Do you think Mel would want you to drop out because of her?”
“No, she wouldn’t,” I said without any doubt.
Shontelle shooed me toward my bedroom. “Then go get dressed.”
My spirits were still drooping, but I did as I was told. After all, racing would be more fun than moping.
* * *
Thanks to Shontelle hurrying me along, I arrived at the race’s starting point with enough time to get some stretching in before the event began. The size of the crowd gathered at the edge of the snowy field surprised me. Aside from my fellow racers, who were strapping on their snowshoes, there had to be at least fifty people milling about, waiting to cheer on their friends and family members when the race got underway.
I spotted Sybil and Eli Hawkes in the crowd and remembered that Lara was one of my competitors. A moment later, I spotted her. She was up closer to the starting line, chatting with a few other racers, her snowshoes already on. She wore the same sweater she’d worn to the book club meeting—the sweater with burnt-orange yarn knitted into the pattern.
The suspicions I harbored about Lara resurfaced, stronger than ever, but I smiled, distracted from those thoughts, when I saw Aunt Gilda among the spectators.
“I was starting to worry,” she said as she made her way over to me.
“I wasn’t going to come,” I said. “Shontelle convinced me that I should.”
“I’m glad she did. You’ve been looking forward to this.” Aunt Gilda patted my back. “Try not to worry too much about Mel, honey. Things will work out for her.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She melted back into the crowd as I set my snowshoes on the ground.
“Smile, Sadie.”
I glanced up in time to see Joey snap my picture.
“You took me by surprise,” I said. “I hope that photo won’t end up in the paper. I probably look like a deer caught in headlights.”
“Nah. You look great.”
I doubted that but thanked him anyway as I strapped my left foot into its snowshoe. “How much do you know about Jade Castellano?”
“I know you were there when her body was found. Which means I should be asking you questions.”
I saw Grayson approaching us and I momentarily forgot what Joey had just said. I fastened the strap of my right snowshoe and straightened up.
“Nice day for a race,” Grayson said.
“It is,” I agreed, smiling as I glanced up at the clear blue sky.
“I’ll catch you later, Sadie.” Joey headed off to chat with some of the other racers.
I thought he sounded a bit disappointed and I realized it might have something to do with the way I was smiling at Grayson.
I reined in my expression. “Here to watch?”
“Not for long. I need to get back to the brewery soon, but I wanted to make sure I stopped by to wish you luck.”
“Really?” That surprised and pleased me. Maybe we really could get along well enough to survive Christmas dinner together. “Thank you.”
A whistle blew before either of us could say anything more. A man wearing a red vest over his jacket stood by the starting line, waving his hand in the air.
“Racers, to the line, please,” he called out before saying something into a two-way radio.
I got jostled by a few people as I made my way to the starting line, everyone jockeying for a spot. I glanced over at the crowd to my left and saw Grayson chatting with Aunt Gilda. They seemed deep in conversation. I wondered what they were talking about.
I didn’t have much of a chance to think about it. My fellow racers and I were told to get set and then the whistle blew again.
The whole pack of racers charged away from the starting line. I nearly got tripped up by Lara when she pushed past me and trod on my snowshoes. I glared at her back as she dashed off ahead of me. If she thought she could intimidate me, she was dead wrong. All she’d done was spark my competitive spirit, which had so far been absent that morning.
I picked up my pace but didn’t let myself go too fast. The race was fairly long, so I needed to conserve some energy for later.
The race route traversed a local farmer’s property. It started in an open field, near the road. After crossing the field, we would enter a track through the woods. I hadn’t followed the route before, but I’d heard that it would wind in and out of the forest, going up and down a few small hills.
By the time I reached the edge of the woods, the racers had spread out from our initial big group. Lara and half a dozen others had pulled ahead to form a small cluster in the lead. About twice that many racers were lagging behind, bringing up the rear as a group. The rest of the competitors, myself included, were spread out between the two packs. I figured I wasn’t in a bad position. There was still a chance I could catch up to the leaders if they started to lose some steam.
That didn’t hold true for long, however. As the race progressed, I dropped farther behind the leading group. Clearly the training I’d done hadn’t been enough to make me competitive with the fastest snowshoe racers in town. I wasn’t the only one falling farther behind, though. Those in my wake had also slowed, widening the gap between me and the next racer.
As I rounded a bend on the track that led through the forest, I found myself racing on my own. I couldn’t even hear the sound of my competitors ahead of me or behind me. I tried to keep my pace up, but it was harder to stay motivated without other racers in sight.
I was approaching the halfway point of the race.
As I neared the table, I noticed that it had paper cups of water set out on it. I was already hot from the effort of snowshoeing and I kicked up my pace, the promise of water drawing me onward like an oasis in a desert.
Before I reached the table, the man in the red vest moved off toward the tree line. When I drew closer I realized he was tacking a bright orange trail marker to a tree. It must have fallen from its place on the trunk.
A quick glance over my shoulder told me that I still didn’t have any racers on my tail, so I stopped by the table and downed a cup of water.
“You’re doing well, Sadie.”
I realized then that the man in the red vest was Bobby.
“You’re not too far behind the leading pack,” he said as he approached the table.
I drank down another cup of water. “I doubt I can catch them, but I’m going to try.”
“That’s the spirit.”
If not for the trail marker, I would have followed the path straight ahead of me instead of the one that entered the woods off to my right. It was a good thing Bobby was there to replace the fallen flag.
“Thanks for the water,” I said as I set off again, entering the forest seconds later.
The path was windy and wove its way up a steep hill. By the time I reached the top of the incline, my lungs were burning and I was gasping for breath.
I didn’t want to stop, but I had no choice. I leaned forward, my hands on my knees as I struggled to catch my breath.
The forest was silent around me. Not even the chirping of a bird could be heard. I looked back down the hill I’d just climbed, but the twists and turns prevented me from seeing if anyone else had begun the ascent behind me.
More slowly than I would have liked, I resumed my progress, following the trail down into a small dip before climbing upward again.
Something didn’t feel quite right, but I wasn’t sure what.