“No,” I said, regretting it only slightly. While I valued his insight, I could do without it this one time. “I only wanted to check in on you and see how you’re doing. It sounds like everything is going great!”
“It is.” There was a faint knock on the other end of the line. “Hold on a moment.”
I waited while he answered the door. I could barely hear a woman’s voice, which I assumed to be Laura’s. I tried to strain to hear her better, not to eavesdrop mind you, but to get some sort of impression of who she might be. You can sometimes tell a lot about a person by the way they speak, how they phrase things.
In the end, her voice was too faint, and the conversation too brief. Dad returned a moment later. “I’d better get going, Buttercup,” he said. “Laura says the place we’re heading often gets busy and she wants to get a good seat. Apparently, there’s going to be music.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“It should be.” I could hear the smile in his voice. It looked like Dad really did like Laura, and more than just as friends.
We said our good-byes and I hung up with a vague sense of melancholy. Would every Christmas be like this from now on? Or was this a one-time thing? I missed seeing him, but if spending time with Laura made him happy, well then, I was happy. I’ve had him all my life; he deserved to spend time with someone else.
My eyes strayed to my Christmas tree, which was in something of a state of shambles, thanks to my cat. He’d stopped removing all the ornaments, choosing instead to focus on one at a time. I was already tired of picking them up every few minutes, and had started tossing them back onto the tree haphazardly instead of trying to find the empty spot from which they had originally come.
The gifts sitting beneath the branches looked lonely. Checking the clock once more, I realized I still had a couple of hours until Chuck’s memorial. I could spend that time practicing, or I could go down to the police station and have a chat with Officer Buchannan.
Neither option filled me with much joy, so instead, I decided to go shopping.
It took only ten minutes for me to be ready. I was fully bundled, credit card in hand, and prepared to face the cold. I left a few treats in the bedroom for Misfit in the hopes he’d eat them and pass out on the bed instead of mess with the tree, and then I was off.
If there’s one thing Pine Hills needed, it was a mall of some sort. Even a small one would do. Sure, I wasn’t a big fan of all the in-your-face advertising, but at least it made it easier to find something for everyone without having to wander all over town in the hopes of spotting that perfect gift. If it wasn’t so cold, I might not have minded as much.
My first few stops were a bust. I did buy a Speed Racer shirt for Vicki’s boyfriend, Mason. If you’d ever seen him drive, you’d know why. Otherwise, I couldn’t seem to find anything for anyone. The gifts were either too expensive for my admittedly limited budget, or I couldn’t find what I was looking for; not that I had any real idea what that might be. I was wandering, at a complete loss as to what to buy, and with each passing minute, I felt my shopper’s despair grow.
And then, finally, on my fourth—and last—stop of the day, I saw it.
It was stupid, really; just a coffee travel mug with a picture of Pine Hills on it. It was the sort of thing you could easily make on your own with a cheap mug and a printer, but something about it drew me in. I picked up the mug, turned it over in my hands, and instantly knew what had drawn my eye.
The photo of the town had been taken from above, but not so high as to be taken from a helicopter or plane. Maybe from a tall building, or perhaps a hill with a really nice zoom lens. It was just another day in Pine Hills, immortalized on a mug.
Front and center, however, was the police station. In front of it, mere moments from walking inside, were two figures. One a man, the other a woman, both wearing police hats and uniforms. I couldn’t see their faces to be sure, but I was almost positive the photographer had caught both Chief and Officer Dalton heading in to work.
As I said, it was dumb, yet I felt I needed to have it. If nothing else, Paul would get a kick out of it. And since he spent quite a lot of his time in a car, the mug would come in handy. He could bring it to Death by Coffee every morning and I could fill it for him. Maybe I’d include a gift card so he wouldn’t have to pay for his first few stops.
A little voice in the back of my head asked, What would Will think? People didn’t normally buy gifts for their exes, but Paul wasn’t exactly an ex. One date does not constitute a relationship. But I have seen the look in Will’s eye whenever we’re around Paul. Would he think less of me because I bought another man a silly little gift?
“It’s Christmas,” I muttered. If Will was that jealous, then we needed to have a serious talk.
Determined not to let my own imaginary guilt deter me, I carried the mug to the counter and paid for it. I still needed to find something for Will, but figured I could do that soon enough. I was going to put some serious thought into what I got for him.
The cashier handed me my bag and I made for the door. Just as I reached it, a fully bundled Jules Phan walked in, three stuffed bags already in hand.
“Krissy!” he said, giving me a hug, despite his load. “It’s such a wonderful day, isn’t it?”
“It’s a little chilly for me,” I said with a shiver.
He chuckled. “But the sun is out, as is my credit card.” He winked and shook his bags. “I take it you are last minute shopping as well?”
I nodded, embarrassed. “I’m picking up a couple of small things here and there. I was considering stopping by Phantastic Candies in a little bit to pick up a box of chocolates.” He didn’t need to know I was going to get them for myself, of course. “Are you open?”
“Lance is taking care of the store while I’m out. He’ll hook you up with our holiday discount.”
“Thanks!” Make that two boxes of chocolates.
“It’s my pleasure.” He glanced at my bag. “Did you pick something up for the steamy Doctor Foster?”
I clutched the bag close, more embarrassed than ever. “Actually, it’s for Paul.”
“Really? Officer Dalton.” He must have seen the mortified look on my face because he lowered his voice and asked, “Are you thinking of moving on from Will?”
“No,” I assured him. “It’s just a friendly gift. Silly, really.”
“There’s no reason to be ashamed,” Jules said. “Christmas is a time of giving. You should never be embarrassed about that. Paul Dalton is your friend, so you have every right to get him something.”
“Yeah, but what if Will disapproves?” If Jules thought I might be considering a change in men, then Will might think the same.
“If he disapproves, then he’s not worth your time. Trust me,” Jules said. “If he can’t let you have your own friends and live your own life, then he’s not the man for you. Jealousy can be a good thing sometimes, but if it makes you afraid to be yourself, then it’s a disease, one better removed than left to fester, if you know what I mean.”
I nodded, wondering what I’d do if it came to that. Will was great and all, but what if he asked me not to talk to Paul anymore? Could I do that? Would I even want to?
“Thanks, Jules,” I said. “I’d better get to Phantastic Candies. I’ve got a memorial to attend afterward.”
“For the actor who died?”
“Yeah.”
Jules grew somber for a moment. “Such a horrible thing to happen at such a joyous time of the year.” He clucked his tongue and shook his head, before smiling. “I’d better not keep you then. Say hi to everyone for me.”
“Will do.”
Jules continued his shopping as I headed out into the cold, uncertain if I felt better or not. I was dreading having to see everyone at the memorial, especially since I hadn’t known Chuck all that well. What if they started telling stories and wanted everyone to say something nice about him? Jules was right; this wasn’t the sort of thing you wanted to think about
during Christmas.
Which was exactly why I was getting the chocolates.
I deposited my purchase in the backseat of my car, and headed for Phantastic Candies, which was only a few blocks away. The candy had become a top priority because I had a feeling that by the time the day was done, I was going to need all the comfort I could get.
18
I opened the door to Phantastic Candies to the sound of a giant piece of candy being unwrapped. No, no one was opening up a mega gumball or one of those suckers that were as big as a fist. The door always made that sound when opened, or at least the speaker above it did. With my hunger for something chocolatey and decidedly unhealthy, the sound made my mouth water.
I stepped inside and immediately came to a halt. There were a few teenagers in the store, filling bags with candy. Lance watched over them, not quite distrustfully, but at least with interest. Candy was one object you could easily pocket, and while an individual piece wouldn’t put Jules and Lance out of business, it did add up.
But it wasn’t Lance or the teenagers that stopped me in my tracks. It was the person standing by the display of chocolates, studying them as if deciding whether or not to take the plunge. While she was dressed in normal clothes—a green turtleneck sweater and jeans beneath a calf-length coat—I’d recognize her stern face anywhere.
“Krissy!” Lance said, noticing me. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Officer Garrison glanced up and frowned before picking up a box of assorted chocolates. She considered it a moment before nodding to herself.
“I thought I’d stop in for a snack,” I said, walking toward the display, wishing she’d go somewhere else. The chocolates were in red heart-shaped boxes, likely meant to be given to a loved one. I, however, intended to keep one or two for myself and hated the fact that someone else was going to see me buy them, even if she didn’t know who I was buying them for.
Garrison watched me approach without comment before carrying her box to the counter. I snatched up two boxes of my own, considered a moment, and then grabbed one for Will as well. Garrison’s eyebrows rose and I think her gaze moved to my hips before she turned back to the counter and Lance, who was ringing up her purchase.
I moved to stand in line behind her, feeling only mildly self-conscious about my three boxes. Sure, I could stand to lose a little weight, but I wasn’t overweight. Out of shape? Yeah. But if I kept with this play thing, I’d take care of that in no time.
“Oh, darn!” Lance said. “I’m out of bags. Let me run to the back and grab one.” He hurried away, leaving Garrison and I standing in line, the teenagers still filling their bags behind us.
“Chilly day,” I said to Garrison, who glanced back at me.
“It is,” she said.
“Day off?”
A tic jumped in her left eye, as if my questions were annoying her, but she answered anyway. “I go in later this evening. Thought I’d get some shopping done first.”
“Me too,” I said, showing her my three boxes. “Everyone loves chocolates.”
She gave me a strained smile as Lance returned.
“Sorry,” he said. “Jules usually takes care of this. Took me a minute to find what I needed.”
“That’s fine,” Garrison said. “I’m in no rush.”
Lance bagged her candy and thanked her before looking expectantly my way.
Garrison started to leave, but as I put my boxes onto the counter, I realized I was letting an opportunity pass that I shouldn’t. Garrison and I had gotten off on the wrong foot from the time we met, and if I could make peace with her, it might make my life a whole lot easier. Heck, it might even help Robert, if and when I figured out who’d killed Chuck.
“Hey, officer,” I said, realizing I didn’t know her first name. That was something else I should remedy.
Garrison stopped at the door and looked back. She didn’t respond in any other way.
“Do you have time for a quick coffee?” I asked. “I have somewhere to be soon, but would like to sit down and, well, talk.” I gave her a hopeful smile.
Garrison considered it a moment, and then shrugged. “Sure, why not.”
“Would you mind meeting me at Death by Coffee in ten minutes?” I asked. “I can get us a discount.”
“Sure.” And then she walked out the door. I couldn’t tell if she was intrigued by my invitation, annoyed, or thrilled. She was about as emotional as a robot.
“Know her well?” Lance asked, ringing up my candy.
“Not really,” I said. “I’m trying to make her like me a little more.” And if doing so allowed me to ask a few questions about where the police stood on the murder investigation, then even better.
Jules would have started asking questions about our relationship and quite possibly told me a little about Officer Garrison and her life outside of work, but Lance only smiled and bagged my candy, asking instead, “These for anyone special?”
“Will,” I said. “And me.” Though I wasn’t about to tell him they were mostly for me.
“Candy is always appreciated,” Lance said. “I do sometimes get a little tired of it since Jules always brings some home with him, but I still think it’s the perfect gift for anyone. Who doesn’t love chocolate?” He winked.
“Tell me about it,” I muttered, wishing I didn’t love it quite so much, before raising my voice and saying, “Well, I hope he likes it.” I found I was actually a little worried about that. There are some doctors who don’t like eating unhealthy. I didn’t think chocolate was too bad on anything but your teeth, and maybe your blood sugar levels, but I wasn’t sure. Since Will wasn’t a dentist, I was hoping he didn’t mind.
“I’m sure he will.” Lance’s gaze moved past me. “All set?”
I moved aside to make room for the teenagers. I gave Lance a farewell wave, and then hurried down the street to my car. While I could have walked to Death by Coffee from here, I wanted to unload my bags and see if I could park closer. Even a short walk in the cold made my face hurt.
Turning the heat on to full blast, I drove down the street until I found a parking spot only a couple of spaces away from Death by Coffee. I parked in it, careful to avoid the big truck that had pulled up a little too far. I wiggled my way in, albeit crookedly, and then headed for the warmth of the coffee shop.
Garrison was already there, seated, a tall cup of coffee held in both hands. Apparently, she hadn’t wanted to wait for me and my promised discount. I waved to her and then went to the counter where Vicki was waiting.
“My usual,” I said, and then, as she got my coffee, I asked, “How’s business?” I glanced up the stairs to find no one up there. “You working alone?”
“Jeff’s on break,” she said, carrying my coffee to the counter and grabbing a cookie out of the display to plop inside. “He should be back in a few minutes. We’ve been pretty busy up until now.”
“Good. If you need me to come in . . .”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that.” She smiled at me and started to make a fresh pot of coffee.
I carried my drink over to where Garrison sat and took a seat. “Thanks for meeting me, Officer.”
“Call me Rebecca. Becca, I guess.”
“Becca then.”
“I hope you’re not going to try to talk to me about the murder case,” she said. “John warned me about you. He said you have a tendency to get involved where you don’t belong.”
“I do,” I admitted. “But that’s not why I wanted to talk to you.”
She raised a single eyebrow and took a sip of coffee. I was happy to smell eggnog flavoring. Maybe we’d have to consider making it a permanent part of our menu, or at least, see if it continues to sell after the holidays.
I considered where to start, glancing over my shoulder at the sound of the door opening to cover my indecision. I turned to find Todd Melville entering, mask covering his nose and mouth. He narrowed his eyes, glanced around to make sure Trouble was nowhere near, and then went to the c
ounter to order. The guy was allergic to cats, yet continued to come here for his coffee, which I didn’t mind, but wondered how he could stand it.
I turned back to find Garrison watching me with a frown.
“I’m sorry about how we first met,” I said, which seemed to surprise her.
She lowered her coffee as her brow furrowed. “What do you have to be sorry about?” she asked. “That’s all in the past.”
“Yeah, but I fear it gave you the wrong impression about me. I don’t go beating on cops or harassing old ladies. It was just a strained time in my life.” And was mostly Buchannan’s fault. And Eleanor Winthrow’s when you got right down to it. Still, I should have handled myself better when I’d caught her peeping in on me and Buchannan wouldn’t take me seriously. I’d like to think I’ve grown as a person since then.
“Don’t worry yourself about it,” Garrison said.
Behind me, the door opened, letting in a blast of cold air. A moment later, Todd strode by the window, removing his mask to take a drink from his coffee cup.
“You don’t hold it against me?”
Garrison hesitated, frowned, and then shrugged. “Can’t say I’m a fan of anyone who ends up in a cell. The petty stuff gets to me sometimes. It gets in the way of the real work.”
“Well, I’m sorry,” I said. “I’ve been good since then and haven’t ended up in jail, so that has to count for something, right?”
Garrison actually flashed me a smile. I think it’s the first one I’d ever seen her give, even if it only lasted a second or two.
She looked like she was going to say something when the large black-and-white store cat, Trouble, came sauntering down the stairs. Garrison’s eyes, which had always had a harsh edge to them, went immediately soft as she made an “Aww” sound.
Trouble must have either heard her, or sensed that there was someone there who’d give him the love he wanted. He veered over to where we sat, fluffing up his already fluffy tail as he strode our way, making himself look as friendly and inviting as he could.
“He’s adorable,” Garrison said, all of her rough edges falling away.
Death by Eggnog Page 15