by Tegan Maher
“What do you see?” Marley whispers.
“No sign of Meredith,” I say. “Or anyone else, for that matter.”
I round the corner and head for the shed.
When we reach the door, I yank it open the rest of the way really fast and jump into the opening. If anyone -- like Meredith -- is in here, I want to catch them off guard.
“Gotcha!” I shout as I land in the doorway.
It turns out, I’m speaking to an empty shed. Marley joins me in the doorway, and we both look into the shed. I see a riding lawn mower, shovels, rakes, ladders, and a wheelbarrow -- but no goat, and no Meredith Kipp.
“Shoot,” I say.
“Maybe we didn’t really step into Meredith’s shoes,” Marley says, sounding disappointed. “I totally thought we were on to something.”
“I did, too,” I say. “It felt so right.”
“But apparently it was wrong,” Marley says. “Blaze isn’t here. Maybe Meredith isn’t behind this. Maybe someone else stole Blaze.”
“Okay -- let’s not get discouraged,” I say. “We’re just warming up here… we can’t give up.” I tap my hand against my lip, thinking. “Let’s go back to the beginning. The goat was right out in plain sight, in front of the manger. Then the donut truck pulled up. We walked over to it --”
“And so did a lot of other people,” Marley says. “Including Katie.”
I nod. “Yeah… we all walked across the street, and faced away from the goat, toward Melissa and her delicious donuts. While everyone’s back was turned, someone took that opportunity to cut Blaze’s rope.”
“So they were out in plain sight, but no one was looking,” Marley says.
Her statement gives me an idea. “Marley, I think you’re wrong! You said no one was looking, but I think I know one person who might have been facing the manger, while everyone else was facing away from it!”
“Who?” Marley says.
“Melissa!” I exclaim. “Her truck is parked across the street. She was facing the church! Maybe she saw something!”
“It’s worth a shot,” Marley says. “And while we’re talking to her, I’m going to get one of those hot apple ciders that she sells. “
“Oh, me too,” I say. “A hot drink will be good. I’m still cold because someone decided to throw snow down my back.”
Marley laughs.
We backtrack down the walkway. When we’re about halfway between the back lot and the front yard, I see a figure rushing towards us. It’s Meredith.
She looks like she is deep in thought, and also upset. She looks down as she walks, but when we’re about a few feet from her, she finally looks up. “Girls!” she says. “What are you doing back here?”
“Looking for Blaze,” Marley says.
I follow quickly with, “What are you doing back here, Meredith?”
“I was -- I was just…” She looks past us, toward the back of the church. Then she says, “I was going to my car. I forgot something in it. Too bad about the escaped goat, hm?”
I nod. “It is too bad,” I say. “But he didn’t escape. Someone took him.”
Meredith laughs. Is it a nervous laugh? I could be imagining things, but it sounds nervous to me.
“No, certainly that’s not right,” Meredith says. “We’re at a church. No one steals things at a church. That would be just awful. I’m sure this is all just one big misunderstanding.”
She looks past us, toward the back of the church again. Maybe she’s thinking about whatever she left in her car.
We’re standing in the shadow of the building, and I’m eager to get back into the sun. So when Meredith bids Marley and me goodbye, I don’t try to stop her.
Marley and I hurry back to the sunny front yard.
The crowd is still milling about out front, calling and looking for Blaze. I spot Katie, talking on the phone with a worried expression. It’s clear that no one has located Blaze yet.
The line in front of Melissa’s Munchies is now much shorter than it was just a half-hour ago. Marley and I cross the street and wait patiently while a customer orders a donut and coffee.
Once he’s served, Marley and I step up to the window.
Chapter Four
Melissa smiles at us brightly. Her dark brown hair is pulled into two braids, and she has a Santa hat pulled down over her ears. She’s wearing a green apron over her jacket. “Back for more?” she asks happily. “What can I get you ladies?”
“Some of your awesome spiced cider!” Marley says.
“And we want to ask you a few questions,” I add.
Melissa steps over to her left and reaches for a cup. While she ladles steaming amber liquid from a crockpot, she says, “Ask away!”
“We’re trying to track down the Christmas Goat Snatcher,” I say.
“The… what now?” Melissa says.
“The person who stole Katie’s goat,” Marley supplies.
“Oh!” Melissa says. She hands the first full styrofoam cup to us. Marley takes it. Melissa starts filling another cup as she says, “I thought maybe it just ran off. You’re sure someone stole it?”
“We’re about ninety-nine percent sure,” I say. “The rope looks like it was cut. We’re hoping you saw someone over there... maybe with scissors or a knife or something?”
Melissa pauses. The cup in her hands is full, but she doesn’t hand it over. Instead, she stands still, thinking.
“Hm… someone over by the manger…” she says
“Right,” I say. “When everyone else was here, focused on your delicious donuts, we’re hoping you noticed something across the way.”
“Anything, really,” Marley says. “It doesn’t have to be a person with scissors or a knife. Whatever you noticed could be a clue.”
Melissa doesn’t speak. Marley and I pipe down, too, to give her some quiet thinking time.
After a minute, she says, “I’m trying to remember… I did look over there, when I first pulled up. I was wondering what the big fuss was about. As the crowd started moving here, I was able to see the manger, and I saw the little white goat out in front of it. Then I got busy serving, and I didn’t look over again for a while. The next time I tried to get a peek at him, my view was blocked.” She hands over the drink. I accept it.
Marley offers her a five. As Melissa makes change, she says, “Sorry I can’t be more helpful. I really hope Katie gets her pet back. What a sad thing to happen on Christmas Eve.”
She hands Marley two dollars back, and Marley stuffs them both in the tip jar.
“Thanks,” Melissa says with a smile. “You guys have a merry Christmas.”
“Same to you,” Marley says.
I look up at Melissa and am about to say the same thing. But I stop short as I realize that I’m looking up. Pretty far up, too.
“You’re like three feet taller than me,” I say to Melissa.
She laughs. “I am right now,” she says. “I’m up here in my truck, and you’re down there on the sidewalk.”
“I know,” I say. “Which makes me wonder… what blocked your view?”
“Hm?” she says.
“You said that you tried to look at the goat again, but your view was blocked. Seeing as you’re way up there, and I’m sure you didn’t have any customers who were nine feet tall, I’m wondering -- what blocked your view of the manger across the street?”
“Oh!” Melissa says. “It was a car. Well, a van, to be more precise. A big white van with tinted windows.”
“Any words printed on it?” I ask. “Anything distinctive about it?”
“Nope,” Melissa says, shaking her head. “It was just an unmarked van. Looked a few years old. I don’t think I’ve seen it around town before, come to think of it. Hey! Is that a clue?”
I nod. “It could be,” I say.
“So, I was helpful, after all!” Melissa says proudly.
I smile. “Yeah. Thanks. Did you happen to notice how long the van was there? Was it parked, or just driving by? And did you
see which way it headed when it drove off?”
Melissa bites her lip and thinks for a second. Then she says, “It looked like it was pulled off to the side, parked. It wasn’t moving. It was facing that way.” She points south. “But I didn’t see it pull out. I got busy with customers again.” Her shoulders droop. I think she wishes she could be more of a help.
“That’s ok,” Marley says.
“What you just told us is super helpful,” I add.
She brightens again. She’s smiling when Marley and I leave the truck.
I breathe in the steam from my cider as we cross the street. It smells so good! Fruity, spicy, and nice and warm. It feels good to cup it in my mitten-clad hands. I blow on the surface a few times, trying to cool it so I can take a sip.
As we reach the sidewalk in front of the church, Marley says, “Have you ever seen an unmarked, white van with tinted windows here in Hillcrest?”
I shake my head. “Not that I can recall. It doesn’t sound familiar at all. Have you?”
“Nope,” Marley says. “Never. I usually have an eye out for vans, too.”
That makes sense, given that Marley herself lives in a vintage VW van.
I frown. “I don’t like it,” I say. “I think the van is involved in our case, and it’s not a good sign. It means this crime might be more complex than we originally thought. Let’s think this through…”
I take a sip of my drink. Delicious! I swallow and then say, “The van pulled up while everyone was at Melissa’s Munchies, which means the Goat Snatcher knew that was the perfect opportunity to act. The Snatcher must have been lurking around here, waiting for their chance. Then Melissa pulls up, and they see a golden opportunity. They swoop in, cut the rope, grab the goat, and drive off.”
“Before anyone even notices,” Marley says. She sounds as glum as I feel. “I mean, Melissa noticed,” she adds. “But she didn’t see the direction that the van drove off in. That seems like the important thing. We have to track down the van, right?” She turns to me.
“Right,” I say. “Maybe you could ask Skili to do some laps over town, with her eye out for it. You could do some searching, too, if you want, and I’ll stay here and ask everyone outside in the area if they noticed the white van -- or the van’s driver. Sound like a plan?”
“The perfect plan!” Marley says, happy once again. “I’ll call you if we get something. What do you want me to do if Skili and I actually find this creep? Want me to knock him out?”
I shake my head. “No -- we’d better confront him together. If you find him, don’t let him out of your sight. Hide and watch him. Text me the minute you spot him. Okay?”
Marley gives me a thumbs up.
I glance at my watch. It’s now three. I have two hours left to catch this crazy criminal and get back to my gift-buying mission! I’d better get a move on.
While sipping my cider, I hurry between clusters of people who are searching for Blaze. I question everyone I see, yet no one seems to have noticed the mysterious white van.
Who was driving the van? Where did it go?
After a half-hour of this, I check my phone. Marley hasn’t texted. I stare down at my phone, willing a text to come in. “Come on, Marley,” I whisper. “Come on, Skili. You got this. Find the van!”
Just then, I feel a cat rubbing up against my legs. I look down and see Turkey at my feet. Immediately, I clear my mind so that I can receive telepathic messages. “Turkey!” I transmit, as slide my phone into my pocket. I stoop down and scoop him up into my arms.
“Boy, am I glad to see you,” I say. “I could use your help. We have a Christmas Eve case on our hands!”
“Is that what you’ve been doing out here for so long?” Turkey asks. “I was looking everywhere for you inside. I’ve been trying to reach you, too.”
“Sorry,” I say. “I’ve been a bit preoccupied. You’re not going to believe this… remember that cute little goat we saw a few hours ago? Someone in a van snatched him up and drove off with him. I promised Katie that we’d find him. But it’s been an hour, and Marley and Skili haven’t found the van yet -- they’re out in town, looking, but it could take a while because Melissa didn’t know what direction it drove in. She was --”
“Hold on,” Turkey interjects. “Slow down. Start at the beginning, please.”
I pause, take a breath, and then start again. “Blaze the goat is gone,” I say. “Marley and I questioned Melissa, because she’s the only person we could think of with a clear view of the manger. She reported that she saw a white van drive up and stop in front of the manger. It parked. Then, the goat was gone.”
“What do you mean, then the goat was gone?” Turkey says. “Did it disappear in a puff of smoke? Is this a magical case?”
“What I mean is, I think the van is a clue,” I say. “I think if we find the van, we’ll be one step closer to finding the goat and saving Christmas.”
Turkey rolls his eyes. “You can be quite dramatic,” he says.
I laugh and scratch his chin. “I know,” I say. “And so can you… my serious little friend.”
He turns away from me. “Now is not the time for a cuddle-fest,” he says.
“It’s always time for a cuddle-fest,” I say, holding him up to my face and giving his perfect little cheek a few kisses. At first, he resists, but then he closes his eyes and starts purring.
I laugh. “See? Where’s the harm in that? But I suppose we should get down to work.”
Turkey stops purring and opens his eyes. “We should,” he says. “What’s our next move?”
“I was hoping you’d have an idea about that,” I say. “I’ve about run out of next moves. I’ve been questioning people for about a half an hour, but I’m getting nowhere.” I look around the front yard.
The people in the front yard are no longer searching for Blaze. They seem to have given up. Katie is nowhere in sight. Perhaps she went inside to meet up with her mom and daughter and get warm. Going inside does sound nice, but I refuse to indulge in that fantasy. I have work to do.
Instead of dreaming about the cozy church basement, I switch my focus back to the crowd. I sweep my gaze over the many faces, and mentally transmit to Turkey whether I’ve questioned them or not. “I talked to Peter… talked to Jim… I got Janine, Glenn, Rebecca… hey! Is that Molly Gallant? I haven’t talked to her yet!”
Molly is walking down the sidewalk towards the church. She has her German shepherd, Charlie, with her on a leash. He’s about two, and massive in size. He lopes along at a good clip in front of Molly, and she has to hustle to keep up with him.
Turkey wiggles a bit in my arms as we approach Molly and Charlie. “I’ll just… stay out of jaw’s reach from that beast, thank you very much,” he says, as his wiggles get more frantic.
I release him, and he leaps out of my arms. He runs to the edge of the sidewalk and darts under a bush.
“You’re going to have me do this alone?” I ask.
“I do not want to be a mid-afternoon snack for that ferocious brute,” Turkey says. The bush that he’s hiding in rustles a bit as he finds a safe space.
“I’m sure Charlie’s a nice boy,” I tell Turkey.
Then I break communication. Molly and Charlie are within walking distance now, and I don’t want to look all spacy, like I usually do when I’m transmitting telepathic messages.
“Hey Molly!” I say, waving. “Are you and Charlie going down to the craft fair?”
“I am,” Molly says. “I’ll probably leave Charlie tied up out front. It’s pretty nice in the sun, and I think he’ll like it.”
“I’m sure he will,” I say. “But I do have to warn you -- there seems to be an animal snatcher on the loose. Katie had her goat tied up out front here, by the manger,” I turn and point, “and someone cut the leash and ran off with him. So you might want to be careful with Charlie.”
“Oh, no one will think about messing with Charlie,” Molly says. “He can look pretty tough when he wants to.” She frowns. �
��That’s terrible about Katie’s goat. Who would go and do a thing like that?”
I mirror her expression, showing how disappointed I am about the whole ordeal as well. “I don’t know,” I admit. “But I’m trying to find out. Hey, you didn’t happen to notice a white unmarked van driving around town today, did you?”
Molly shakes her head.
Shoot. I was really hoping she’d have some information for me.
“No, I didn’t,” Molly says. “Is that the getaway vehicle or something? Did the thief seriously pull up in a van?”
“I believe so,” I say. “We were all distracted by Melissa’s donuts, and the van just swooped in and then drove off again.”
“Oh, Melissa’s Munchies is here?” Molly looks past me, catches sight of the truck parked across the road, and smiles. “Sweet!” she says. “I’m going to get a cruller. I hope you can find Katie’s goat for her. Sorry I can’t help you out about the van.”
“Me too, “I say. “Thanks anyways.”
Molly hurries off, and I feel my shoulders sag. “This is getting downright frustrating,” I transmit to Turkey, who is still cowering under the shrub nearby. “How can there be an unmarked van driving around this teeny, tiny town, and yet no has seen it?”
Turkey chimes in. “I have some good news for you,” he says.
“Oh yeah?” I say.
He crawls out from under the bush, and then uses his paw to brush a little pile of snow off of the top of his head. “Yes,” he says. “You’re always working on getting over your fears, and today I did a bit of the same. I worked on conquering my fear of that large, drooling, brutish German shepherd.”
“Oh, you did?” I say. “Because it looked like you ran and hid under that shrub the minute we saw them walking toward us.”
“Of course I hid, Penelope,” Turkey says. “That wasn’t cowardly; it was smart. I was using my survival instincts. However, I did conquer my fear of telepathically conversing with that slobbery canine.”
“By ‘that slobbery canine,’ you mean Charlie, don’t you?” I ask.
“Who else?” Turkey says.
“I’m just pointing out that he has a name,” I say. “What did you and Charlie talk about?” I ask.