Miss Frost Braves the Blizzard

by Kristen Painter

  “It would indeed,” Birdie said. “Too bad we don’t know if that S is for his first name or last name.”

  I groaned. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

  “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out. It’s probably his first.” Then she let out a big sigh. “I just wish it got us closer to losing the yetis.”

  “I know.”

  Birdie shrugged. “Maybe there’s no point in trying to figure out who Mr. S is.”

  “Except, if Mr. S is still alive, he might be able to help us.”

  “How do you figure?”

  “Well, he must have been a friend of Eustace’s if he had a snow globe too. Maybe he was enough of a friend that Eustace let him in on the secret of how he created the magic that made them work. Maybe there’s another way to close the portal without Eustace’s blood.”

  She made a face. “That would be great.”

  I nodded. “For sure. I need to get my dad to send me all the travel records for the last forty-two years. Since the experimental snow globes were first created.”

  “That’s going to be a lot to sort through.”

  “Yep. But what else have I got to do?”

  “Call me when you get them. I’ll come over and help.”

  “It’s a date. Especially if you want to bring the rest of that lasagna.”

  She laughed. “In that case, maybe I’ll bring Jack too. Hey, get Sinclair to come over and we’ll make a night of it.”

  “Ooo, digging through musty old files. How romantic.” I giggled. “I’ll ask Sin. It would be a great way for him and Jack to get to know each other.”

  “And then when this deep freeze is over, we can all go out to dinner like old pals.”

  I had to work to keep my smile in place. I loved her enthusiasm, I just didn’t have any idea when this magical winter was going to come to an end. And that made putting on a brave face pretty hard. “Why don’t you let Jack know we’re done here? I’ll call my dad and be right out.”

  “Sure thing, Princess.” She gave my arm a little squeeze before she left.

  I had no doubt she understood what I was feeling, at least to some degree. I pulled the snow globe from my purse and called my dad.

  “Hey, Jayne. How’s it going?”

  “It’s…going. I actually think we’ve made a little progress. We think Eustace Brightly and Myra Grimshaw might have been brother and sister. Maybe not fully. We don’t know if they shared one parent or two, but it makes sense from our side.”

  “How so?”

  I explained to him about the clippings and the letters and our theory about Mr. S.

  He nodded. “You’re right, it all works. So what can I do to help further?”

  “I need all the travel records of any winter elf that might have traveled to Nocturne Falls going back forty-two years. Also, for that same time frame, I want the tinkers’ register.”

  His brows lifted. “You’re asking for a ton of paperwork.”

  “I know, but I’ve got a team of people ready to help me go through it.”

  “I’ll have it to you in an hour.”

  “Perfect. Thanks, Dad.”

  “Now, I have a little news to share.”

  Every nerve in my body paid attention. “Does it have anything to do with my yeti problem?”

  “It does.” He held a hand up. “We’ve managed to temporarily close one of the portals we opened.”

  “Temporarily?”

  He nodded. “I wish it was better news, but I feel like it’s progress.”

  “How did you do it?”

  “Salt water.”

  “Of course.” Why hadn’t I thought of that? “Salt water wreaks havoc on winter elf magic, so why wouldn’t it do the same to the yetis’ magic? But only temporarily, huh?”

  “So far.”

  “Well, it’s progress. Any idea on how to get the yetis back through the portal?”

  “Still working on that one.”

  I nodded, sort of out of words.

  “I know you’re disappointed.”

  I sighed. “I just want to bring Buttercup home and get things back to normal.”

  “I know, sweetheart. We all want that too.” His smile was tight-lipped and stress lines bracketed his eyes. “I’ll get that paperwork sent ASAP.”

  “Thanks. Love you.”

  “Love you too.” He hung up.

  I tucked the globe back into my purse and headed up to the truck. Something had to give, and it had to give soon.

  True to his word, my dad sent the boxes through the Santa’s Bag an hour later. Fifty-three minutes later, to be exact. I had no doubt that everyone in the North Pole was working on this problem.

  With the help of Kip, Juniper, Sinclair, Birdie and Jack, we hauled the boxes, all twenty-seven of them, up to my apartment. Then Kip and Juniper went to meet Juni’s boyfriend, Pete, who was driving them in his Jeep to Balfour Park to check on Buttercup. I asked them to report in if there was anything to report.

  The boxes were sturdy cardboard with handles on the sides and lids that fit snugly. They were a little dusty and a lot heavy. And because my dad had pulled them so quickly, they hadn’t been pre-sorted in any way. We were looking at years of general travel records for NP citizens that could have been going anywhere in the world. And all those decades of the tinker’s registers. All of it was done by year, no alphabetizing.

  A daunting job lay ahead of us.

  And stacked in my apartment, those boxes looked more like a hundred and seven than twenty-seven. Be that as it may, Jack, Birdie, Sinclair and I settled in to sort through every sheet of paper inside them. Spider and Sugar helped by sitting on and in some of the boxes.

  Both cats seemed especially interested in Jack. Perhaps it was the shifter side of his familiar kind. He could transform himself into a raven, after all. In fact, I could have sworn Spider licked him.

  Birdie gave Spider a pat on the head as she went into the kitchen to set the oven to warm up. When she finished that, she took a spot at the dining table with Jack.

  Sinclair and I set up on the sofa, using the coffee table as our workspace. He’d thoughtfully brought eclairs for our dessert. He glanced at me. “How do you want to do this? Should we just call out when we find a name that starts with S?”

  “I think so.”

  Jack raised his head from the file he’d already begun reading. “First name, last name, or both?”

  “Both,” Birdie answered. “We don’t know which it is for sure. Probably first, but who knows?”

  He glanced at me over his glasses. “This is quite a manhunt you have us on.”

  “Tell me about it.” I pulled the first file from the box before me and sat back to read.

  “You know,” Jack added. “You should talk to your father about computerizing this stuff.”

  I smiled. “We can’t. Electronics are spotty at best in the NP. Too much magnetic interference.”

  He nodded. “I should have known that.”

  We fell into silence for a while. Sugar curled up on a box while Spider chose a spot on the dining room table next to Jack. Both of the cats fell asleep, letting out little snores once in a while. After a bit, the oven dinged that it had heated to the right temperature. Birdie got up, put the lasagna in, set a timer, then went back to work.

  The cats, awoken by the bell, trotted off to the bedroom. Probably looking for a quieter place to nap.

  I got up to grab a Dr Pepper from the fridge (and the stash that never ran out thanks to the same set of wishes that had turned Spider’s voice box on). I held the bottle up. “Anyone else?”

  “I’ll take one.” Birdie held her hand out.

  Jack glanced up. “Have any coffee?”

  “No, but I could make some.”

  With a soft laugh, Sinclair got to his feet. “I’ll make the coffee. Jayne’s talents don’t lie in that direction.”

  I pursed my lips. “I’d say something to the contrary, but he’s telling the truth.” I handed Birdi
e her Dr Pepper on my way back to the couch.

  Sinclair returned to his spot shortly after and we all went silent again, the only sounds coming from the coffeemaker and the shuffling of papers.

  About halfway through my file, Birdie spoke up. “I found a Simon Hart.”

  “Age?”

  “Hmm.” She rifled through the file. “Never mind. He was seventy at the time this registry was recorded. Which was thirty years ago.”

  “Yeah, probably a long shot.”

  We kept going.

  “Here’s one,” Jack said. “Francis Saint. Age seems right.”

  I looked up. “Let’s start a stack for all possibilities.”

  “Will do.” Jack put that file in the middle of the table.

  When the oven timer dinged, we’d added three more to the pile of possible mystery men. Birdie dished up the lasagna while Jack moved the files from the dining table to the breakfast counter. We ate pretty quickly with a little small talk, but each one of us felt the press of time. We were back at the files in short order.

  Birdie cleaned up while we worked, something I really appreciated. Just like I appreciated the group effort to help with this.

  When she sat down to work again, she leaned back in her chair to look at me. “Princess, do you think there’s any chance the mysterious Mr. S is Tempus Sanders?”

  “The Sandman?” He had been a special guest at the store a while back because he’d written a children’s book guaranteed to make kids fall asleep. “I don’t think so. Pretty sure the book signing was his first and only visit to Nocturne Falls. I like that you’re thinking outside the box, though.”

  “He popped into my head, so I figured I’d ask.”

  “Nothing ventured, nothing gained.” My phone chimed. I checked the screen to see a text from Juniper.

  Buttercup is doing fine. You want help with the files?

  Glad to hear that, I texted back. Thanks for the offer, but we’re doing great. I knew she wanted to spend time with Pete, something she wouldn’t do if I took her up on the offer of help.

  I let the group know. “Juniper says Buttercup is doing fine.”

  “I’m so glad to hear that,” Birdie said.

  “Me too.” Jack put his hand over top of Birdie’s. “She’s a brave woman to take Birdie’s place.”

  “That’s for sure,” Sin added.

  I tucked my phone away and we all returned to work.

  The soft sounds of shuffling paper filled the space once more. One by one, another dozen files were added to the keeper stack. It was slow going. And tedious.

  An hour had passed when Sinclair closed the file he was reading and stretched. “Éclair, anyone?”

  I put my file down too. “I’m in. My eyes are starting to cross.”

  Jack nodded. “Same here. But we’re making good progress.”

  I glanced at the stack of keepers. “S is such a common letter. That’s still a lot to go through and we’re not half done with the boxes.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “I really hope this isn’t a waste of time. But it sort of feels that way right now.”

  Jack got up to refill his coffee cup. “I’m sure it does, Princess, but if we can find this guy and he’s the link we need to close that portal, then it will all be worth it. And even if we don’t find the guy, or we do and he turns out not to be any help, we’ve still had a nice evening together.”

  I laughed. “I’m glad you think sorting through decades of paperwork is a nice evening.”

  He smiled. “I think making new friends and being able to help them is a nice evening anytime.”

  “Thank you. That’s very kind.” He was a sweet guy, and I was really glad he and Birdie had connected. I loved that she had a man like Jack Van Zant in her life.

  “He’s right,” Sinclair said. “Even if all of this turns up nothing, we get the benefit of feeling like we’re doing something. Like we’re helping. There’s a lot of people out there who are probably sitting on their hands and going stir-crazy because they don’t know how to help. Or can’t, because there isn’t anything for them to do.”

  Birdie nodded. “Nocturne Falls is that kind of town. People want to be involved. They want to look out for each other and pitch in. So don’t even think that this is wasted time. It’s not.” She smiled. “Especially when we also get to eat eclairs.”

  I laughed. “I thought you were sick of sweets?”

  “That passed.”

  “Speaking of…” Sinclair got up and walked over to the box on the kitchen counter. He opened it, then got some paper plates out of the cabinet. “There are traditional eclairs filled with crème patisserie and some non-traditional raspberry-chocolate mousse filled. I brought six of each so there’s plenty if you want more than one.”

  “Hah. This is a high-metabolism crowd here. More than one? How about more than two?” I picked a raspberry-chocolate mousse one first, then looked at Jack. “I’m assuming familiars have the benefit of the standard supernatural metabolism, but I don’t know that much about familiars either.”

  He took two traditional eclairs, carrying one to Birdie. “We do. Maybe not as much as my shifter sweetheart here, but we can get away with extra helpings.” He took his seat again. “And if you want to know anything about being a familiar, just ask.”

  “Thanks. Likewise if you want to know anything about being a winter elf.” In my peripheral vision, I could see Sin cringing. I knew he didn’t want to answer questions about being a necromancer. He was pretty private about that part of his life. I changed the subject quickly. “I think we should call it a night after these eclairs. We’re going to lose focus if we push ourselves to do more.”

  Birdie swallowed a mouthful of éclair. “I don’t mind getting through a few more boxes.”

  “Birdie, you need to get some rest.” I had a strong feeling Jack would back me on this one. “You just got out of the yetis’ lair today. You need a good night’s sleep in your own warm bed.”

  “She’s right,” Jack said. “Tonight isn’t the night to overdo it.”

  She gave him a look, but consented. “Fine. But I’m willing to help tomorrow if you want.”

  I smiled at her. “I know you are, but if you’re really up to working tomorrow, I’m sure your nephew would like to have you back at your desk at the station. I have no doubt he’s missed you.”

  She grunted. “I suppose.”

  Sin came up beside me, his hand on the small of my back. “How’s the éclair?”

  “Half gone. And delicious.”

  “Good. I’m glad you like them.”

  Me liking his eclairs wasn’t in question. But I had a feeling that was his way of thanking me for changing the subject.

  Half an hour later, Birdie and Jack had said good night, leaving Sin and me to organize the rest of the files for tomorrow. I yawned while I was moving a box.

  “Go to bed,” he said.

  “I will in a minute. I still need to feed the cats.”

  “We’re both beat. The rest of this can wait until morning, and I can fill their food dishes.”

  I put the box down. I was too tired to argue with a man who only had my best interests at heart. “You’re right. Okay, I’m off to bed. Thanks for taking care of the cats.” I gave him a quick kiss. “See you tomorrow.”

  But as tired as I was, I ended up lying in bed, staring into the dark. My thoughts were churning too fast for me to drift off. Maybe I should get up and start going through the stack of possible men who might be Mr. S, but that would mean going out into the living room and I didn’t want to disturb Sinclair.

  Judging by his soft, rhythmic breathing, he was asleep. Sugar was probably curled up with him on the sofa bed, the way Spider was nestled in by my feet. I sighed and tucked my arm behind my head. If I couldn’t sleep, and couldn’t risk waking Sinclair up by working some more, I might as well organize my thoughts.

  If I could. It was worth a shot.

  Mr. S was a big part of those thoughts. I snorted s
oftly at Birdie’s idea that Tempus Sanders, the legendary Sandman, might have been Myra’s secret beau. I loved that she thought outside of the box, but that was really outside of the box.

  If only Tempus was here. I’d get him to send me to dreamland so I could—I sat bolt upright in bed. Tempus was the Sandman. His whole job revolved around putting people to sleep. And if he could put people to sleep, why not yetis?

  My dad’s sleepy face blinked at me through the snow globe. “Hi, honey. What’s happened?”

  “I had an idea. Listen—”

  “Are you in the closet?” He squinted like he was trying to see past me.

  “Yes.” I hadn’t wanted to wake Sinclair, so I’d also closed my bedroom door to help block out the closet light. “Did I wake you?”

  “Don’t worry about that.”

  “But how? How did snow falling in a globe wake you?”

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I had mine retinkered to chime as well.”

  “Ooo, smart. Listen, I have an idea about how to get rid of the yetis.”

  That seemed to wake my dad up a little more. “All right, what is it?”

  “Tempus Sanders.”

  “I don’t think he knows anything more about yetis than we do.”

  Okay, so my dad wasn’t that awake. “Dad, he doesn’t have to know anything about them. He just has to put them asleep. Deeply. Then we can pop them back through the portal, close that thing up, and call it a day.”

  That got his attention. “That might actually work. Nicely done, Jayne. I’ll reach out to him and see if he can actually put yetis to sleep. And if he can, how soon he can be in Nocturne Falls.”

  “We can’t wait on his schedule. He has to do it now. This is an emergency. Send Uncle Kris in the sleigh for him as soon as he says yes on the yeti naps.”

  My dad nodded. “I hear you, and this is great, but putting the yetis through the portal is only effective if we can keep them from coming back through. That portal has to be shut down as soon as they’re all through.”