by Kathi Daley
Chapter 21
Sunday, December 22
Cody and Sammy had left on the first ferry to Anacortes. I might have gone with them, but today was the Christmas play at the church, and although Sister Mary had taken over as lead from Cody and me after the explosion at the bookstore, I still wanted to be there to support the kids. Some years Saint Patrick’s put on a huge production that was held in the evening, but Cody and I knew our time would be limited this year because we had Sammy, so we’d decided from the beginning on a smaller production performed during Sunday Mass. The way things had turned out, I was extra glad we’d come to that decision ahead of time.
“Okay, everyone, remember to relax and have fun,” I said to the kids as we got them ready to take the walk from the choir room to the church. Tara was also in attendance to help out, so while I missed Cody being there, we really didn’t need him.
“Where is your baby?” Anastasia asked. “I thought you were going to bring him here for us to meet.”
“Cody took Sammy to meet his daddy, who is arriving home early.”
“So he isn’t coming?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“What about your cat?” Archie asked. “The one you were sleeping with at that rehearsal last week. Is he coming?”
“No. I’m sorry, he won’t be here either. But both your parents are here. I noticed them earlier.” I turned to Anastasia. “And your grandmother is here. In fact, when I peeked into the church earlier, it looked like we had a full house, so let’s get lined up and ready to make our grand entrance.”
“Is your mom here?” Anastasia asked.
“She is. And my brothers and sisters are here too. Ready, everyone?”
They all nodded that they were.
Thankfully, the play went off without a hitch. The kids remembered their lines for the most part, and with the exception of a baby angel who decided to add hip-hop moves to her song, everything went exactly as rehearsed. After church, Finn and Siobhan, Aiden and Danny, Cassie and Tara and I all went to the house my mom shared with her husband, Gabe, for Sunday lunch. We were halfway through the meal when Jane called to let me know that Wiley and Jingles had suddenly become upset. After several days of calm moods and smooth sailing, she was worried that another explosion might be on the horizon.
“I need to go,” I said to my family. I then explained about the call.
“I’ll come with you,” Tara offered.
“I should go as well,” Finn said.
“No. If everyone shows up, it might freak Wiley out. I’ll go. I’ll see if I can figure out what he is trying to say and then I’ll call you to let you know.”
“I’ll drive you,” Finn insisted. “I’ll wait in the car if you think that is best, but I’m not leaving you to deal with whatever might be happening on your own.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “We’ll call the rest of you when we know more.”
I slid into the passenger seat of Finn and Siobhan’s car. He was off duty today, so he didn’t have his cruiser. I supposed that if we needed the others to take some sort of action, Siobhan could get a ride with Tara or Cassie.
“Have you spent any time with Wiley and Jingles since Thursday?” Finn asked.
“I’ve checked in with Jane every day and looked in on Jingles just to make sure that he didn’t have something he needed to communicate to me, but both the boy and the cat have been quiet and content the past few days. When I poke my head in the door of Wiley’s bedroom, he pretty much ignores me, and while Jingles trots over to say hi, he has been calm as well. Jane told me that Wiley and Jingles had a good night last night and that they seemed calm this morning, but then, about an hour ago, Wiley started drawing frantically and Jingles is crying and pacing.”
Finn pulled up in front of Jane’s home. I opened the passenger door. “I’ll wait here so as not to upset Wiley further,” he said, “but if you need me to come in, let me know.”
“I will. I shouldn’t be long. If Wiley is upstairs, it will probably be fine for you to come in and wait downstairs. I’ll let you know what the situation is once I speak to Jane.”
Jane answered as soon as I knocked on the door. Jingles ran out onto the front stoop, almost knocking me off my feet. Wiley was standing just inside the door. He was looking at the floor, but he was obviously waiting for me. He held out a drawing. I took it. The picture was of Santa in a chair with a gift with fire coming out of it next to him. I was pretty sure that everyone on the island who planned to have a Santa had canceled theirs, so I wasn’t certain what Wiley was so worked up about.
I smiled at Wiley even though he wasn’t looking at me. “Thank you, Wiley. I can see that there is another Santa in trouble. I’m afraid I don’t know where this one is. Can you show me?”
Wiley turned away from me.
I looked down at Jingles. “I guess it’s up to you. Do you know where we are heading?”
“Meow.”
“Okay.” I bent down and picked up the cat. “Let’s go.” I looked at Jane. “I’ll call you when we figure this out. If Wiley shows you anything else that you think might help us, call me.”
“I will. And good luck.”
I slid back into the car with Jingles in my arms. I handed the paper to Finn. “Any idea where this might be?”
“No. As far as I know, all the local events that had been scheduled to include a Santa have canceled him.”
“Okay, Jingles. It’s up to you to lead the way.”
Finn just stared at me. “How exactly is he going to lead the way?”
“Just start driving. We’ll tell you when to turn.”
When Jingles took us north, not toward town, both Finn and I were confused. The only buildings north of Harthaven were single-family homes. Most of the ones on the north shore were large estates, although there were a few smaller houses that had been on the island for generations.
Eventually, Jingles led us to a huge estate that was owned by a tech billionaire who worked out of Seattle. There were dozens of cars in the driveway.
“Private event,” I said.
“Looks like it.”
Finn parked, and he, Jingles, and I headed toward the front door. There were a lot of people inside, and the door was open, so we simply walked in. The main living area was packed with mingling adults in nice clothing. I didn’t see a Santa, but Jingles ran down a hallway that led to a conservatory where a man dressed in a Santa suit was listening to children’s wishes and then handing them each a gift.
“I need everyone to clear out,” Finn demanded in his deep baritone voice.
“What’s going on?” a man I assumed might be the homeowner demanded.
“I’m Ryan Finnegan, the resident deputy. A bomb threat has been called in. We have had two other bombings on the island recently involving Santas, so we have reason to believe it is authentic. Now, everyone out.”
I ran into the conservatory and began shepherding the children out. Santa hesitated but finally followed them. Finn made a call, I assumed to the fire department, or perhaps for backup. Once everyone was out on the lawn, he turned to the owner. “Is there anyone else inside? Help? Guests? Anyone upstairs?”
“I don’t know. There were a lot of people here.”
I was holding Jingles, and now he squirmed out of my arms and headed back toward the house. “Jingles,” I screamed.
He headed in through the open front door. I ran after him. I could hear Finn calling after me, but I needed to get the cat, but I knew that if he ran back in, someone was still inside. The cat took off up the stairs. I followed. I had just arrived on the second-floor landing when a loud explosion rocked the house. I fell to the floor but was far enough away from the blast that I was unharmed. Still, the house was on fire. I needed to get out of there.
“Jingles! Where are you?”
“Meow.”
I ran toward the sound of the cat. At the end of the hallway was a bedroom. On the dresser was a photo of a blond-haired child sitting on Santa�
�s lap with a blond woman standing beside them. It looked exactly like the drawing Wiley had made, minus the faceless man. I grabbed the photo and the cat and headed back down the stairs. Finn met me halfway up.
“Are you crazy?” he demanded.
“Apparently. Let’s get out of here. I have what the cat wanted me to find.”
The fire department showed up shortly after. While Finn coordinated with the emergency personnel, I sought out the owner of the home. I found him rounding everyone up and shepherding them toward the pool house to wait for further instructions.
“Can I speak to you for a moment?” I asked the man I now recognized as billionaire Theodore Stinson.
The poor guy looked harassed beyond belief, but he agreed. I showed him the photo. “What can you tell me about this photo?”
“The Santa is me. I hired someone to give out the gifts this year because my arthritis has been acting up, but until this year, I have always personally handed out the gifts to the children of my employees.”
“And the woman?”
“Her name was Estelle Winters. She worked for me as my personal assistant when I first started my company. The child on my lap is her son, Devon. He currently works for me as a programmer.”
“You said the name of the woman was Estelle Winters. I assume she passed away.”
Stinson bowed his head. “She died shortly after this photo was taken. In fact, she passed out while I was still holding Devon. She was rushed to the hospital, but she’d had a heart attack and didn’t make it. There was nothing they could do.” The man frowned. “Where did you get this photo?”
“It was on the dresser in the upstairs bedroom at the back of the hallway.”
“Devon is staying in that room. I guess he must have brought it with him.” His forehead furrowed. “It seems odd that he kept this photo as a reminder of that day. Devon was only six when his mom died. His grandmother raised him for a while, but she became ill, and he went into the foster care system. When I found out about it, I paid for him to attend a private boarding school and then college. After he graduated, I hired him and made sure he was on the management path. Most Christmases, he stays with me for a few days when I bring the employees from my Seattle office to the island for a holiday party.” He looked around. “I haven’t seen him since the blast. I hope he got out all right.”
“I’ll help you look for him,” I offered. “What does he look like?”
“Blond. Tall. He had on brown slacks and a green sweater.”
“Thick hair, prominent cheekbones?”
“Yes. Did you see him?”
“I did earlier.”
I had also seen him at the bookstore on the day of the explosion there, I realized. I couldn’t be sure at this point, but given what I’d just found out, I suspected that Devon was the Santa killer. I couldn’t explain why he might have gone over the edge and started killing Santas after all these years, but I could see how having your mother die right in front of you while you were sitting on Santa’s lap could lead to a serious hatred of the jolly old elf in the red and white suit.
Chapter 22
As soon as the fire had been dealt with, I shared my theory with Finn, who shared it with a very reluctant Theodore Stinson. He didn’t want to believe that Devon was behind the bombs, and I didn’t blame him, but after Stinson showed me a photo of the man, I was able to confirm that he was indeed the one I’d seen lurking around on the day Coffee Cat Books exploded. Stinson also confirmed that Devon had arrived on the island early this month, and while Stinson had only just arrived himself the previous Friday, Devon had been staying at this house for the past two weeks. Finn asked if there had been others staying here as well, and Stinson replied that as far as he knew, it had only been Devon and the help on the estate until he got here on Friday.
“Any idea where he might be now?” Finn asked the man who insisted we call him Theo.
He slowly shook his head.
Despite a thorough search, Devon Winters had not been found, but Theo confirmed that one of his smaller boats was missing. We assumed that Theo had escaped during the confusion following the explosion.
“Do you have any idea why Devon might have done this?” Finn asked.
Theo started to shake his head, but then he stopped. “I guess you know that Devon’s mother died of a heart attack right in front of him while he was visiting Santa?”
“Yes, Cait explained that to me,” Finn confirmed.
“And she also told you that I was the one playing Santa when Estelle died?”
“Yes, she told me that as well,” Finn confirmed. “And I can understand how that might affect a person, especially one so young. But that happened a long time ago. Do you have any idea what might have caused Devon to suffer a psychological break all these years later?”
Theo didn’t answer right away. Then he said, “Devon was alone in the house for almost two weeks before I arrived. I suppose he might have decided to look around. I can’t be sure until I’m able to get inside to take a look, but I suspect that he might have found the paperwork regarding the agreement his mother and I worked out when he was born. You see, Estelle was not only my personal assistant, she was my mistress, and Devon is my son. I was married at the time and still trying to grow my company. I was afraid a scandal would derail everything I’d worked so hard for, so I paid Estelle off in exchange for her promise never to reveal the identity of Devon’s father.” Theo ran his hand through his hair. “I’ve regretted my actions many times since then, but despite the fact that I considered telling Devon the truth on many occasions, I never have.” He closed his eyes and groaned. “And the truth is even worse when you consider the pain I caused Estelle. The doctors felt her heart attack was most likely the result of drug abuse. She never took drugs until after Devon was born, and I denied his parentage. Her death really was my fault. I knew it then, and I know it now.”
“So why did Estelle continue to work for you if you’d paid her off?” I asked.
“We wanted to keep up appearances, I wanted to stay close to Devon even though I refused to claim him as my own, and I believe that despite it all, Estelle never stopped loving me. I think she decided that being my assistant was better than not having a relationship with me at all. She no longer needed the money, but she continued to work alongside me until the day she died.” Theo looked at Finn. “We need to find Devon. In his present state of mind, there is no telling what he might do.”
I could see that Finn was going to be busy for a while with the cleanup and witness interviews, so I called Tara to ask if she could pick up Jingles and me. She arrived in her SUV, along with Siobhan and Cassie. Mom had volunteered to babysit Connor, and Danny and Aiden planned to meet us at the bar where we could talk in private because O’Malley’s was closed on Sundays. When we arrived back in Harthaven, I asked Tara to stop at Jane’s so I could leave Jingles there.
“So, you arrived in time?” she asked.
“We did,” I confirmed. “No one was hurt, and I’m pretty sure we identified the man behind the fires, thanks to Wiley and his drawings.”
“I’m glad it worked out okay. Is the man in jail?”
“Not yet, but Finn will find him.” I looked down at the cat in my arms. “I suspect that Jingles’s job may be done, so I am going to leave him with you. If it turns out I do need him, I’ll call, but I think you can consider him a permanent part of your family now.”
Jane thanked me, and I passed the cat to her. Wiley walked up behind his mother, and the cat struggled to get down. She set him on the floor, and both the cat and the boy ran up the stairs.
“Did you ever figure out who the man with the scribbled-out face was?” Jane asked.
“I don’t think the man represents a person. I think it is the image of death. In all the drawings of a man with no face, someone has either died or would have died if Wiley and Jingles hadn’t warned us of the impending death.” I reached out and touched Jane on the arm. “I’m sure knowing what Wiley does
is a heavy burden to bear, and it is difficult for you as his mother as well. I just want you to know I am always here for you both. If Wiley starts having nightmares or if he begins to draw things that come true, you can call me anytime, day or night. In fact, call me anyway. I’d like us to be friends.”
Jane smiled. “I’d like that too.”
I reached over and hugged her. “Alex wants to do something for you and Wiley. He wanted me to ask you if there was anything you needed.”
Jane hesitated.
“Wiley saved Alex’s life. He wants to thank him. And he has a lot of money, so if there is anything at all…”
“Wiley does need a new computer. The one he has is on its last legs.”
“That’s perfect. I’ll let Alex know, and we’ll bring it by when we have it.”
“That would be nice. The past few weeks have been hard, but it has been nice having you and the others pop in from time to time. Being Wiley’s mother is very rewarding, but it can be lonely at times.”
“Honestly, I’d be happy to continue popping in. I like to keep track of the cats I hand off to others, and I’ve enjoyed getting to know you. Maybe we can make a weekly thing of it.”
“I’d like that very much.”
I turned to walk away. “I’m not sure how Wiley would do with a roomful of people, but we are having a big Christmas Eve party if you and Wiley are interested in coming.”
Jane hesitated. “I suppose I could broach the subject with him. Can I call you and let you know?”
“Absolutely. I’ll text you the details.” If I hadn’t had a carful of people waiting for me, I might have stayed longer, but I did, so I said my goodbyes and promised to text her later in the day.
“So is that it?” Tara asked after I returned to the car, and we headed toward the bar to meet Danny and Aiden for a drink. “Are the Santas of Madrona Island safe now?”