Murder Under the Mistletoe

by Terri Reed

  Heather paled. Her hand shook as she took the flyer from Liv. “I— That would be nice, Liv. I’m sure Seth would have liked a memorial in his honor.”

  “I thought so, too. I mean, the graveside service was nice and all, but so few people were there.” She gave a wobbly smile. “I was thinking it would be nice to have it here in the barn. Maybe light the big Christmas tree in his honor.”

  “Yes. That sounds lovely. Seth loved Christmas.” Heather clutched the brochure to her, crumpling the edges. “Liv, did you ever see Seth writing in a journal or notebook?”

  Good question! Tyler shot an approving glance at Heather before turning his attention back to Liv.

  She cocked her head to the side and frowned. “I don’t recall him keeping any kind of journal or diary. Why?”

  Tyler tensed. Would Heather reveal the situation to this woman? He hoped not.

  “He kept one when we were kids,” Heather said. “I wasn’t sure if he still did. Maybe it would provide us with a clue as to why...”

  Liv teared up. “As to why he overdosed. I’ll look in the townhouse. He’d started moving things over in preparation. I guess I should bring his boxes back.” She dug into her purse and pulled out her smartphone. She fiddled with it for a second, frowned and then said, “I’ve been in such a fog I forgot I have an errand to run. I should go. I’ll call you later to talk more about the memorial.”

  “Maybe we can plan the memorial closer to Christmas,” Heather said, walking toward the front door and opening it. “I don’t think I can handle it emotionally right now.”

  Seeing an opportunity to send Heather and her son somewhere safer, Tyler gave voice to his idea. “Heather, you and Colin should go spend some time with Liv. It might be helpful for you to be together at this difficult time.”

  Heather shot him a sharp glance.

  “Oh, normally I’d love that,” Liv said quickly. “But the place is a mess. I’m a mess. It wouldn’t be comfortable for you or Colin. Now, I really must go.” Liv gave Heather a hug and hurried out the door.

  Heather shut the door and leaned against it for a moment before straightening and squaring her shoulders. “I need to check on Colin,” she said in a choked voice before she spun around and left the room.

  Tyler ached for her loss and wished there was something he could do to comfort her. The only thing he had to give her was bringing her brother’s murderer to justice. He went to the kitchen and poured himself more coffee, then called his boss to report in. Just as he hung up, Heather and Colin came back into the kitchen, both wearing warm coats. Heather had changed into jeans and a cream-colored cable-knit sweater.

  Heather held out a shearling-lined brown corduroy jacket. Her eyes were red, no doubt from crying. But she held her chin high and regarded him with a steady gaze. He admired her fortitude. “It’s brisk out, and that leather jacket of yours won’t cut it. We’re expecting a cold front in the next few days.”

  Grateful for her thoughtfulness, he took the jacket and slipped it on. It fit as if made for him. He didn’t think it had been Seth’s since he was shorter and stockier than Tyler. Her dad’s? Or her late husband’s? Mentally shrugging, he figured it didn’t matter either way. He appreciated her consideration. “Thank you.”

  They headed out the back door. Colin ran ahead, his little legs pumping fast and his arms swinging wildly. Ah, to be that young and carefree, full of excitement for the world. Tyler couldn’t remember ever being that untroubled. His youth had been spent shuffled back and forth between his mom and grandparents and sometimes even children’s protective services. He’d been scared most of the time, but it had also made him tough. He could handle all that life threw at him. Yet he hoped little Colin never had to face any more hardships than what had already touched his young life.

  “Not so far ahead of me, Colin,” Heather called out. There was a definite tremor of concern in her tone.

  Keeping his gaze on the child, Tyler said, “I’ll make sure nothing happens to either of you.”

  She slanted him a quick glance, which he caught in his peripheral vision.

  “I was thinking about getting a dog as a defense against strangers.”

  The not-so-subtle barb made him wince and smile at the same time. She didn’t fully trust him. Not that he blamed her. He’d failed with her brother. He was determined not to fail again.

  * * *

  “Mommy, can I please go to the village?” Colin asked for the umpteenth time.

  Heather gripped his hand, reluctant to let him roam too far from her. “We’ll head there next.”

  They were showing Tyler the harvesting of the Douglas fir trees. The morning temperature hadn’t increased much since they’d left the house. Heather tucked her free hand into her parka pocket. Her feet were beginning to ache. She wasn’t used to this much walking. The job she’d left to return home had been a desk job as a receptionist for a mortgage broker. Her boots were rubbing, and her legs were tired. Showing Tyler the lay of the farm had taken longer than she’d expected because Tyler asked so many questions and wanted introductions to every worker.

  Having him practically attached to her hip was wreaking havoc with her senses. Every time he bumped into her or touched his hand to her elbow, sparks shot out from the point of contact, making her face heat up. She tried to ignore the reaction, telling herself she was being silly. She was reacting to the possible danger, not to Tyler.

  With each employee they encountered on the farm, she searched for some clue to indicate malicious intent. But try as she might to find something or someone suspicious, she only found the same people who had worked for the Larson tree farm every holiday season for years.

  Though she had moved away at age eighteen, she’d always returned for opening weekend. She knew and trusted these people. Or she had trusted them until yesterday when the world she’d thought she’d known went spinning out of control like a child’s toy top by the appearance of the man standing at her side.

  She amended that thought. It wasn’t fair to blame everything on Tyler. Her brother had started this mess by allowing a drug cartel to use their family’s farm to move illegal narcotics. Every time she thought about what Seth had done and the danger he’d put himself and everyone else in, anger flooded her system until she thought she might drown. Seth had made so many impulsive, irresponsible decisions in his life. And his last one had been a whopper.

  A choice that had rippling consequences.

  Not only had Seth been murdered; now she and Colin were potentially in danger.

  And the only defense she and her son had were three men, albeit well-trained ones. She sent up a silent prayer that Tyler and his IBETs colleagues would be enough to keep her and her son safe.

  They stopped near a flatbed truck loaded down with a mound of trees that had been through the baler, a machine that wrapped the trees in twine so they could be more easily transported. The trees were then stacked and chained in place.

  Colin broke free and ran a few paces away. He squatted down to poke at something on the ground. “Mommy, it’s a roly-poly bug.”

  She smiled, thankful he still found things like bugs interesting. “Don’t squish it.”

  His brows puckered. “I wouldn’t do that!”

  “Are all the trees transported like this?” Tyler asked, studying the flatbed, drawing her attention away from her son.

  “When the delivery location is within the state.” Gesturing to the larger refrigerated box trucks a few yards away, she said, “These trucks are used for longer hauls to other states—and into Canada.” A lightbulb went off in her head. “Do you think the drugs were smuggled in these vehicles?”

  “I was wondering the same thing,” Tyler said with a speculative gleam in his eyes. “Have you ever been inside one of these trucks?”

  ‘No, I’ve never had a reason to. Seth
handled all of that.”

  “I think I need to inspect these trucks,” Tyler said.

  Before she could respond, the loud rattle of a chain releasing from its mooring rent the air.

  “Watch out!” someone cried.

  FIVE

  Heather had no time to process the sharp cry of warning before a hard body rammed into her, lifting her off the ground, sending them both flying out of the path of an avalanche of trees spilling from the flatbed and landing in the spot where she had just stood.

  Heart hammering, Heather scrambled to her knees, her gaze going to the mound of trees. Her mouth dropped open. She could have been crushed.

  “Are you okay?” Tyler gripped her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him. His bright blue eyes were filled with anxiety. “Did I hurt you?”

  He’d tackled her to prevent her from being flattened by the trees. He’d saved her life.

  Colin!

  Her attention whipped to her son. He sat a few feet away with his arms wrapped around his knees, his eyes round.

  “Heather?” Tyler persisted.

  She put a hand on Tyler’s arm. “I’m okay thanks to your quick reaction.” Gratitude flooded her. He’d acted swiftly, without thought to himself. That kind of selfless act touched her deeply and dissolved any lingering anger.

  He nodded, expression grim. He helped her to her feet. Colin jumped up and ran to her, colliding with her legs and nearly knocking her back to the ground. His arms wrapped around her and held on tight. Her heart swelled with love for her son.

  “You two stay put while I figure out what happened.” Tyler went to the truck to inspect the chains that had held the trees in place.

  Heather gathered Colin in her arms. He clung to her, putting his head on her shoulder. She hugged him, savoring the moment while her pulse still zinged at a rapid clip.

  A dozen men crowded around them, asking if they were hurt. Suddenly feeling vulnerable and claustrophobic with so many people pressing in on her and Colin, Heather said, “Please, everyone, we’re okay. Give us some breathing room.”

  “Come on, guys, let’s give Mrs. Randall space,” said Don Kline. Don was one of the farm’s longest-employed workers. He had been the unofficial foreman since Seth’s death. Don was in his late sixties with a shock of white hair and wide girth that made him the perfect choice to play Santa during the holiday season. He wore navy coveralls, work boots and thick gloves and a worried scowl on his weathered face.

  Heather grasped his offered hand. The work gloves were rough against her palm as he drew her and Colin farther away from the scene of the accident.

  “Mommy, Mr. Tyler saved you.” Awe filled Colin’s voice.

  She patted his back while her gaze sought out Tyler. He and Blake were conferring near the trailer bed. Tenderness choked her. “Yes. Yes, he did, honey.”

  She thanked God above for Tyler’s quick action. If he hadn’t reacted as quickly as he had, she’d have been seriously injured or killed. A quiver of fear raced through her. Had it been an accident? Or something more sinister?

  Tyler joined them. “Someone cut the chain holding the trees in place.”

  Alarm tightened Heather’s neck muscles. Someone deliberately tried to hurt her? No. That couldn’t be.

  There was no way anyone could have predicted she’d be standing in that spot at that exact moment. But then why would someone sabotage the flatbed’s chain in the first place?

  She tried to remember who had been standing on the other side of the truck from her. But she hadn’t noticed. Her focus had been on Tyler, on the connection sparking between them. Further proof of how foolish it would be for her to allow him past her defenses. She’d almost been killed by her inattention. And if Colin had been standing there... She shuddered.

  Don frowned. “Are you sure? Why would someone do that?”

  Tyler placed his arm around Heather. This time she edged closer to him, grateful for his steady presence. “Have you had any other trouble on the farm?”

  Don’s bushy white eyebrows twitched. “No, not really. Well, other than poor Seth’s death.”

  The reminder of her brother’s murder made her hug Colin tighter.

  Tension radiated off Tyler, adding to her already tightly strung nerves.

  “What do you mean by ‘not really’?” Tyler asked. “Has something else happened?”

  Don rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Earlier this month we had a shipment of fertilizer go missing. That’s never happened in the nearly forty years I’ve been here.”

  Tyler’s fingers flexed against her shoulder where his hand rested. “How much fertilizer are we talking about?”

  “Four hundred pounds.” He waved his hand toward the acres of small, medium-size and large trees. “We have a great deal of ground to cover.”

  “That’s not good.” She watched news reports on the television; she knew fertilizer was a component used to make bombs. Her stomach roiled. She shifted Colin to the side. “Why didn’t I know about this?”

  Don grimaced. “Seth said he’d take care of it. Another order appeared within a few days. I assumed it had been some sort of mix-up.”

  Her stomach dropped. Had Seth provided some terrorist faction with the means to create an explosive device? Oh, Seth, what were you thinking?

  Tyler nudged her. “I need to make a phone call.”

  A cold numbness washed over her as they walked back toward the farmhouse. As soon as they were far enough out of hearing distance of the employees, Tyler paused and withdrew his cell phone from his cargo pants.

  Heather strode away with Colin, not wanting him to hear the details of Tyler’s call. Undoubtedly, he was calling his boss or some other law enforcement person who dealt with terrorists and bombs. She shivered and set Colin down. Holding on to his hand, she pointed out the different types of trees.

  “I know, Mommy,” he said. “Uncle Seth explained that each has its own uniqueness.”

  “Did he?” She was glad Colin would have good memories of her brother. “Did he tell you that he and I helped plant most of the trees?”

  “Uncle Seth said for every tree that is cut down, we replant two.”

  “That’s right. And see on this stump how there’s still a live branch? In twenty years, the tree will have grown and be ready to harvest again. We have to be good stewards of the gifts God has given us.” This land, this farm, was her family’s legacy. She had to protect it for her son.

  Tyler walked over. His troubled expression didn’t bode well. “I informed my boss,” he whispered. “ATF will look into the missing fertilizer.”

  “Will more agents arrive, wanting access to the farm?” she whispered back.

  “Not unless they have intel that can link the farm to a terrorist cell.” She wasn’t sure if she was relieved or more terrified.

  “It’s not polite to whisper,” Colin scolded them with a scowl.

  Heather bit back a surprised laugh. “You’re right, honey. It’s not. But sometimes grown-ups have to talk about issues that aren’t meant for little boys.”

  His face brightened. “Like my Christmas present?”

  This time the laugh escaped. “Definitely like Christmas presents.”

  “That’s not just for adults,” Colin said. “Uncle Seth and I whispered about your present.”

  Her pulse accelerated. She shared a startled glance with Tyler. “What is it?”

  Colin tsked. “I can’t tell you, Mommy. It’s a surprise.”

  Tyler hooked his thumbs into his belt loops. “You can tell me. I’m really good at keeping secrets.”

  Colin’s face scrunched up as he debated. Finally, he nodded and crooked his finger at Tyler. Tyler knelt down so that Colin could whisper in his ear. The dark shade of their hair was so close in color it was hard
to distinguish where one stopped and the other started.

  Heather held her breath as an ache deep inside came to life. Seeing them together like that brought home how much Colin was missing out on by not having a father in his life.

  She had to be both mother and dad. The load of responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders, but she gladly, and lovingly, bore the burden. She would do whatever it took to make sure her son grew into a responsible, worthwhile man.

  When Colin was done, he stepped back with a grin.

  “Well done,” Tyler said and high-fived her son before standing.

  Dying of curiosity, Heather stared at Tyler, willing him to spill the beans. Anticipation tensed her shoulder muscles and chased away the numbness. What had Seth left her? Could it be the journal?

  He winked. “It’s a good present. Perfect for a six-year-old to give his mother.”

  She let out a breath as the tension left her body. Obviously not Seth’s journal. “I’ll have to wait for Christmas morning, then.”

  “Are we ready to see the Christmas Village?” Tyler asked.

  “Yeah!” Colin jumped up and down and clapped his hands.

  Tyler’s deep chuckle caught Heather off guard. The sound was rich and warm and something she wanted to hear again.

  “Lead the way, little buddy,” Tyler said.

  Colin raced away.

  “Hey! No!” Concern arched through her.

  Tyler caught her hand in his. “Come on, Mom. We have to catch up.”

  Stunned, it took a second to comprehend what he meant, and then he tugged on her hand and she had no choice but to break into a jog to maintain pace with him. They had to increase their combined speed to keep Colin in sight. It felt good to move, to exercise her legs, her lungs and her heart. As if running could distance her from the mess her brother had left behind.

  The cool air swept over her face, ruffling her hair and making her feel alive in a way she hadn’t in a long while. By the time they made it to the other side of the property where the Christmas Village sat off the main highway, giving the public easy access to the wide gravel parking lot, she was winded but exhilarated, as well.