Yuletide Blend

by Kennedy Layne

  “I can’t see anything through the window,” I whispered, cupping my gloves around my eyes to make it easier to see through the side door of Otis and Karen’s garage. There was a thin vertical window near the doorknob, but it was too crusted with dust to see through the pane. “I don’t hear anything, either. Leo, you’re going to have to go inside and take a look around.”

  In case you’ve forgotten, the former sheriff and his wife own a dog. D. O. G. Dog. You know, a domestic cat’s nemesis. FYI, those domesticated felines are so oblivious, they have no idea what is happening in their own backyards. Maybe I should hand out flyers.

  “You can remain invisible,” I prompted, not accepting the dog excuse. I stepped away from the door, having already debated knocking lightly to see if I could startle whatever was on the other side. I quickly discarded that idea. Who knew if Karen was inside the garage right this minute? How would I explain that I was sneaking around her yard? I wasn’t the best liar. “Besides, Scooby is a Maltese. He’s smaller than you are.”

  Another reason I shouldn’t go inside. Who names a Maltese after a cartoon Great Dane? It’s just not done, and now the poor whelp has a Napoleon complex. What do you think it’s going to do to his mental state when he gets a whiff of me, but can’t find me? He’ll think he’s losing what’s left of his tiny mind. I know it might not seem like it, but I do have a heart, Raven.

  This is when having Heidi by my side would have come in handy. She’d somehow learned the questionable art of picking locks in her youth. I found it best not to question some of her quirks.

  “You’re the one who said that Randy was most likely in a place where the other reindeer couldn’t hear him calling out,” I reminded Leo, stepping back to consider our options. I came up empty. Unfortunately, there really weren’t any other alternatives other than to send Leo inside to make sure that Randy wasn’t being kept prisoner by the former sheriff’s wife. Good intentions aside, it wasn’t fair to keep a beautiful animal contained inside four walls when his home was on acres and acres of open land where he was well taken care of and obviously loved by Barry Mina. “I thought you wanted the key to the town?”

  That’s bribery, Raven. You’re playing with my emotions. Didn’t we establish that we’re not even sure that Paramour Bay has a golden key to the city?

  “Is that a chance you’re willing to take?” I asked, posing a question that I was confident Leo wouldn’t be able to resist. And no, I experienced no guilt whatsoever. After all, we were talking about a symbol of Christmas, regardless that the man in the red suit indicated that Randy was actually a more famous reindeer in disguise. “Golden key equates to information on Skippy, and—”

  Fine. I’m going inside, but don’t blame me when the former sheriff and his wife have to take their zany furball to a pet psychologist. They exist, you know.

  “Raven?”

  I cringed at the sound of Karen’s voice coming from around the front of the garage. I was busted, and now I was in the one situation where I had to think fast. Who would have thought witchcraft would have been easier to learn than the art of lying?

  “Hi, Karen,” I exclaimed after pasting a smile on my face. I dropped my arms to my sides, still attempting to come up with a plausible excuse as to why I would be sneaking around her property. My palm was as cool as a cucumber, and I was beginning to think my ability to sense danger had become defective. Why wasn’t my gift working closer to town? “How are you doing?”

  “I’ve had a busy day,” Karen replied with a tilt of her head, wrapping her arms around the middle of her waist. She wasn’t dressed for the cold, and she was clearly confused as to why I was standing next to the side entrance of her garage. It would help to know if Randy was actually inside the garage, but Leo hadn’t made a reappearance. How hard could it be to spot a large reindeer in an empty garage? “Is there something I can help you with?”

  I glanced down at the trampled snow, trying to find some way to answer her without outright accusing the former sheriff’s wife of nabbing a reindeer from town square. Had Leo found something in the garage? Is that why it was taking him so long to reappear?

  I’m here, I’m here. I got sidetracked by the delicious fragrance of fish. The former sheriff keeps his boat inside the garage, and I must say that it smells divine! As for the antlered brute, there was no sign of him or any tracks on the floor. Then again, the former sheriff does a splendid job of keeping that speckled paint void of any dirt.

  “No, not at all,” I answered in relief now that Leo had given me the perfect excuse. “The search groups are still out and about, and I thought I saw some hoofprints in the snow.”

  “Oh, we get a lot of deer around here.” Karen motioned that I should follow her back to the front of the house. “Come on in out of the cold, dear. Can I make you a cup of tea?”

  Say no. I’m not going inside with that mangy Maltese. Couldn’t you hear him barking when he realized that a feline was in the garage?

  Now that Leo mentioned it, the faintest sound of barking was coming from the house. This was my chance to find out why Karen had been acting so odd today, though. I wasn’t about to pass up this opportunity.

  “Everything okay?” Monty asked, standing in the driveway when we came around the corner of the garage. “Karen, what are you doing out here without your coat? You’ll catch a cold like that.”

  “Oh, Scooby was barking and I just came outside to take a quick look as to what had him riled up,” Karen said with a smile, though her cheeks were turning the same shade as Santa Claus’ suit. She also held up some stale bread. “I needed to put some of this out for the birds, anyway. Found Raven following some tracks into the backyard. What are you doing home, Monty?”

  Well, that explained what the stale bread had been for. I inwardly cringed at the way this situation was sliding and causing Leo and I to appear as if we’d overreacted.

  How did I get on that overreaction bus? Contrary to the witch’s guidebook, you and I are not attached at the hip, Raven.

  “I closed up early,” Monty said in frustration, giving a wave in my direction even though he was frowning in displeasure. “The mayor has everyone and their mother gathered in town square to watch that interview that they could all be viewing on their television sets. I have to drop this bucket off to the neighbor, and then I’m calling it an evening. I was out this morning to help with the search, but I don’t want to overdo it with my back. Karen, were you able to get an appointment with the seamstress?”

  Seamstress? Sweet angel of mercy, Raven! Do you realize what that means? That poor antlered brute was turned into some sort of rug! What kind of monsters are living in our quaint little town?

  “Yes,” Karen replied with excitement, even though she was already walking toward her front door. The wind wasn’t so bad in the front of the house compared to the side, but she only had a sweater on for warmth. Leo sounded as if he were about to keel over upon hearing her reply. “I just got back home, as a matter of fact. Otis is going to be thrilled when he sees his Christmas present. Do you want the leftovers?”

  Christmas angels are crying right now, Raven! This monster is trying to sell off the antlers as if they were nothing but spare parts. Oh, the horror of it all!

  “If you don’t mind me asking, what did you get Otis for Christmas?” I asked, ninety-nine percent sure that Karen wasn’t talking about Randy. I shoved the guilt aside over the other one percent. It wasn’t very nice of me to have that much doubt over the kindness of my neighbors, especially during such a holiday. “I’m still looking for ideas for my mother.”

  “I bought him slipcovers for the boat seats,” Karen replied happily as she stood next to her front door tossing pieces of stale bread in front of her bushes. “The seamstress was able to hem the material after I measured the height. Plus, she’s going to put in drawstrings on the bottom so that the fabric can close around the bottom post. I never would have thought of such a thing if Monty hadn’t suggested it. It was worth all the runni
ng around today, especially since Otis has been out and about helping look for that poor reindeer.”

  Okay, so I might have overreacted just a smidge. In my defense, the antlered brute’s fate was looking grim there for a while.

  There was now no reason for me to go inside with Karen. Her odd behavior hadn’t been in relation to the abduction of Randy, and he certainly wasn’t being held prisoner in her garage. I should be feeling relief, but I was now more anxious to find Randy than before.

  Where could he be?

  Did anyone think to check the farm? I’m not saying those antlered brutes have a high IQ, but even those mangy canines manage to find their way back home after getting lost. Why not a reindeer?

  It was definitely an idea that I needed to throw out to Liam, who was currently with the mayor attempting to flush out the kidnapper…if there even was one. It was best I get back to town square. Besides, Mom and Heidi should be pulling into town soon.

  “I’m glad it worked out for you,” Monty said, holding up what appeared to be a bucket. It must be the item he needed to drop off at the neighbor’s house. “You two have a good evening. I’m going to go drop this off now. You two enjoy your night.”

  “Come on inside, Raven,” Karen urged me, twisting the knob on her front door. “I’ll make us some tea.”

  “I really should be getting back to the search,” I replied with a regretful smile. “Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Don’t you worry about a thing,” Karen exclaimed, stepping inside to get warmed up. “This is Paramour Bay. It’s a good thing that the only thing we need to worry about is a reindeer wandering off, and I’m sure he’ll be found in no time.”

  That’s a pretty good outlook given that the coven war almost landed on top of the town’s welcome mat not two months ago.

  “Have a good night,” I called out, quickly getting in my car and turning over the engine. Seeing as only around ten minutes had passed since Leo and I had gone to search Karen’s garage, the heater kicked in well before I reached the main thoroughfare of town. “Leo, we’re running out of ideas.”

  The pile of steaming brownies is still up for grabs…with me overseeing the project, of course. I do believe that the rubber gloves are still in the back seat.

  Leo had materialized in the front seat, lifting his chin to enjoy the warmth of air coming from one of the vents. I could already see that my usual spot near the tea shop had been taken, most likely by someone already enjoying the festivities of town square or someone who wanted to witness the mayor’s interview.

  “The last resort at our disposal is the mayor’s offer that there will be no questions asked if someone returns Randy to his pen tonight.” I had no choice but to park near the bakery. Candy and Dee were walking out with what was probably hot chocolates in their hands, which they almost spilled thanks to little Bobby Hurst as he ran by. “I wonder if Bobby had any luck.”

  While I’m at my poker game tonight, I’ll ask Ivan if he’s gotten the privilege of escorting an antlered brute through the veil.

  I winced at the thought of something horrible happening to Randy.

  “Do you think something’s wrong with my abilities?” I asked, truly wanting to know Leo’s thoughts on the subject. “The palm of my right hand has only had a few tingles prickle my skin since Randy went missing, with the exception of Nan’s special place in the woods. Usually in these types of cases, it would be so hot that I wouldn’t even be able to wear my glove.”

  Which is even more reason to suspect that there was no foul play in the antlered brute’s disappearance. Unless, of course…never mind. Forget I said anything.

  “You can’t say something like that and expect me to forget about it,” I warned, prepared to bug him all night. “If you don’t clarify what you were about to say, I will follow you to the poker game and wear mirrored sunglasses as I stand behind you.”

  That’s low, Raven.

  Leo and I then commenced in a staring contest in the front seats of my car, but I was prepared to do what was necessary if it meant finding out what could be causing my ability to be on the fritz.

  I just want to go on record that you’re going to freak out over nothing, because the chances of my random thought being the cause is less than that one percent chance of the former sheriff’s wife being a reindeer serial killer.

  “Fine,” I relented, but only partially. “I’ll take whatever you say with a grain of salt.”

  Technically, you should be taking what I’m about to tell you with a swig of eggnog, but whatever. There’s a chance—and I personally don’t believe it for a second—that otherworldly magic could be to blame for the energy fritz you seem to be experiencing.

  “Otherworldly?” I asked, not following along. I do admit to being relieved that Leo didn’t think whatever it was he was implying was possible. “You mean…”

  Kris Kringle. Father Christmas. You know, good ol’ St. Nicholas. But Santa Claus’ existence has been an old wives’ tale for many years, Raven. If it makes you feel any better, the chances of that being true are next to nil. It’s about the same odds as the former sheriff’s wife being a serial killer.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Mom, is there an old wives’ tale about Santa Claus and our family lineage?” I asked, making sure I kept the question vague in case someone was walking past. We were standing by one of the portable heaters in town square, having met up with Mom and Heidi after they had to park near the Paramour Bay Inn. The festivities were now in full swing, and there wasn’t a spot to be had along River Bay. “And have you noticed any…um, change in the air?”

  Snap the head off a gingerbread man, why don’t you? Hearing you tiptoe around the subject is torture. No one is around, not even the ho-ho-ho jolly red giant.

  “If you’re asking me if Father Christmas truly exists, then the answer is yes. Isn’t the mere idea of St. Nicholas magic?” My mother was keeping a close eye on the mayor for some reason. She didn’t seem to grasp what I was trying to ask. “You know the mayor better than I do, Raven. You don’t believe he’s culpable of staging this entire situation all to be the center of attention, do you? I mean, he did nab the headline on today’s paper, and he’s now been given his fifteen minutes of fame. I overheard that journalist mention that one of the national stations picked up the story as a feel-good piece.”

  The Mistress of the Dark certainly knows how to skim over the facts, doesn’t she?

  “I agree with your mother,” Heidi said, popping the candy cane out of her mouth. “The mere idea of Santa Claus is magical. I used to try so hard to stay awake and listen for the sound of his sleigh landing on my roof on Christmas Eve. There was nothing better than running downstairs and finding all the presents underneath the tree, sans cookies and milk with the exception of a few crumbs left on the plate.”

  Speaking of crumbs, I bet I left some on my pillow back at the tea shop.

  “I’m not talking about that kind of magic,” I murmured, getting a bit hot standing so close to the heater. The volunteer firemen had also gotten the bonfire lit, so it was now a beautifully contained blaze with some of the kids already roasting marshmallows on long sticks. “I mean, real magic.”

  “You mean like a warlock?” Heidi asked, her blue eyes widening at the implication. “Noooo. You can’t be serious. Wait. Can you?”

  “Leo has been filling your head again with magical conspiracy theories, hasn’t he?” my mother asked, stepping to the side when someone blocked her view of the mayor having a conversation with Cora and Desmond Barnes. When I grabbed the sleeve of her jacket so that she didn’t get very far, she sighed in resignation. “St. Nicholas might be linked to our way of life. Is it true? I don’t know, and I doubt we’ll ever know. A missing reindeer and a heartfelt story about the herd doesn’t mean a thing in the grand scheme of things. I mean, really, Raven. Of all the places in the world to visit, you think that Kris Kringle is going to be in Paramour Bay fourteen days before Christmas?�
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  Well, when Mom put it like that…

  I told you that the chances were nearly nil, but you always get persnickety if I leave anything out. I know, I know. It’s usually something more important than an old wives’ tale, but you know that my memory issues don’t distinguish between vital and random nonsense details. It’s all because you’ve had me running around these past two days. How would you function on little to no caffeine? Don’t think I didn’t see that espresso you snuck out when we stopped by the tea shop.

  “I think it’s time I go say hello to the mayor, don’t you?” my mother asked, patting the back of her hair where the top of her hat should have been. “And there’s my dearest love. Beetle, over here!”

  Ack! Hairball.

  Leo wasn’t actually hacking up a hairball. He was gagging at the way my mother doted over his best friend, which I agree tended to be a bit overboard. With that said, the two of them were very happy being with one another. My mother went off to grab Beetle by the arm and drag him over to where the mayor had just finished speaking with the Barnes. Considering how Cora and my mother felt about one another, it was a good thing that the Barnes had walked away before my mother engaged with the mayor.

  “Here comes Liam,” Heidi murmured, pointing toward him with her candy cane. “Maybe he has some news on the reindeer front. We seemed to have struck out with every lead, unless your mother’s theory about the mayor is right.”

  “Heidi,” Liam greeted with a nod, leaning down to kiss my cheek. “I spoke with Jack earlier. He got the word out to the state troopers patrolling the highways to be on the lookout for our reindeer. I’m hoping that the caribou didn’t make it that far east. It’s best for his safety that he stays close to this area, away from heavy traffic.”

  Tell me about it. I followed Skippy one day when he got an itch to hit one of the garbage cans on River Bay. I truly thought my nemesis was going to be taken out by a green Jeep Wrangler. I’m all for stopping the squirrelpocalypse, but I’m not too proud to admit that I would have felt cheated at such a horrifying end.