Stealing Christmas

by W. Lynn Chantale

“Admiring.”

  “So you’re flirting with me.”

  “I think I’ve earned that after the mistletoe.”

  “Why did you kiss me like that?” She looked him in the eye.

  He winged a brow. “Like what?”

  “Like there was more.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “‘Hmmm’? That’s all you can say?”

  “I enjoyed kissing you.”

  “Okay, so you’re interested in me now?”

  He laughed. “Smart and beautiful.” He stroked her hand, his eyes soft. “Thank you for keeping the bakery going after my grandfather died. I really appreciate you giving me time to close down my offices.”

  Sara nodded. “Jerry was my family, too, Jake. He gave me a chance when no one else would.”

  “He talked about you a lot, you know. He really believed you were the reason the shop persevered.”

  Grief lodged a knot in her throat. “He said that?”

  “And I thought I was doing him a favor by following my dream. He all but pushed me to open my own practice.” He met her gaze. “But, he always made sure I didn’t forget about this place or you.” Jake sighed. “I think he was matchmaking in his subtle way.”

  Jake never forgot about her? She ducked her head. “He probably was.” A sigh slipped past her lips. “I miss him, especially early mornings. Seventy-six years young and his energy put me to shame. He would never let me carry supplies up the stairs.” Sara dabbed at her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’m usually not like this.”

  “It’s okay. I miss him too.”

  The clock on the wall chimed six bells. Jake shifted in the chair, his hand brushing her knee. Tiny jolts flickered from that small gesture and zipped straight to her heart. She glanced at him. He had to know how his touch affected her. Each time electricity crackled through her veins. Despite everything, he made her believe in the magic of Christmas.

  “How ’bout we get something to eat?” Jake said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “The least I can do after such a rough day is buy you dinner.”

  “Okay.”

  ****

  Marty grabbed Seth and shoved him against the rough brick wall, rattling the contents of the box. Seth dropped the box, the shiny red-brown plates tumbling from the cardboard.

  “Hey!”

  Anger contorted Marty’s face as he thrust it so close Seth could count the tiny moles dotting Marty’s left eye. He gave Seth a hard shake, holding him against the wall. “What is wrong with you! It’s simple. All you had to do was grab the keys!”

  Seth pushed back and jerked his coat from Marty’s grasp before straightening the garment with shaky fingers. “I don’t know where she keeps them,” he said with equal malice.

  “Did you ask her?”

  “I told you I didn’t want to do this.” Seth stooped to retrieve the plates.

  “You are so weak.” Contempt dripped from his voice as Marty stepped closer, his face hovered mere inches from Seth’s. “You get her alone and make her give you the keys.”

  Seth shouldered the other man out the way. “She’s never alone!” He thumped the box in the cargo area and slammed the door to the van. “After that stunt you pulled this morning, Jake won’t let her out of his sight.”

  “This is what you’re gonna to do. You’re gonna trash her house. The old man gave her something to hold. It has to be there.”

  “What am I looking for?” he said, a slight whine to his voice.

  Marty shook his head, disgust curling his lip. “An envelope. If you don’t find it you’ll dress up in that costume I gave you and wait until she gets home.”

  Seth shook his head, his hands shoved in his pocket. “No. We should just stop. Go to the police and...”

  Marty fisted his hands in Seth’s coat and slammed him against the van. His sleeve fell back, exposing the black and gray ink coiled around his wrist. The vehicle rocked back and forth. “And what?” he demanded. “You think they’ll go easy on you because you got scared? You’ll rot in prison just like I will.” He let Seth fall. “Accessory after the fact. Be there tonight if you want your little girl to see Christmas.”

  Marty strutted to the driver’s side, hopped in and drove away.

  ****

  Twenty-three minutes later Jake and Sara shared an appetizer platter in a dim corner of Blackstone’s Pub and Grill. The place sported wood floors and linen tablecloths. Even though they missed the happy hour specials, many of the patrons were glassy-eyed and wore wide smiles. Jake ordered a beer and Sara nursed a glass of wine. She swirled the pale gold liquid in the glass before lifting it to her lips.

  “Hmm, I just remembered something. He had a tattoo on his wrist.”

  “Santa?”

  She nodded.

  “Could you describe the tattoo?”

  Sara dipped her mozzarella stick in the ranch dressing, bit off the end and chewed thoughtfully. “Not with great detail.” She swallowed another sip of wine. The alcohol settled her nerves, draining the tension from her body. She smiled. “Thanks.”

  “You’re welcome.” Jake sat up, then his brow furrowed. “Wait, for what?”

  “For bringing me here. It’s been a very long time since I’ve been out.”

  “You work way too hard.”

  She studied his shadowed jaw line a moment. “I wouldn’t have to work so hard if someone wouldn’t insist on breaking, denting, or dropping the decorated cakes.”

  He smirked. “Oh right. That.”

  “Yes. That. I spent twenty minutes repairing that Santa for the Children’s Home today. Do you know how hard it is to match that exact shade of red?” Sara sat back as the waitress placed a steaming cut of prime rib with asparagus and garlic mashed potatoes in front of her.

  “I’m sorry?” he said, after the waitress left.

  She laughed. “Funny.” She glanced at his plate and then back at hers. “Everything looks great.”

  Jake kept his gaze on her. “It certainly does.”

  Her heart fluttered at the compliment. “You shouldn’t say things like that Jake. What will people think?”

  “They’ll think we’re finally doing something about our attraction.”

  She clattered her fork to her plate. “What? Who?”

  He laughed. “You haven’t figured out why I’ve been dropping things?”

  “Because it amuses you?”

  “Or maybe to get your attention. Is that so much to ask?”

  She stared into his warm gray eyes. “That depends. What exactly are you asking?”

  “Hmm, to take you out again.”

  “I think I could live with that.” The thought seemed too good to be true. Hopefully the date would end with another of his delicious kisses.

  Movement caught the corner of her eye. For one moment a set of malicious dark eyes stared at her. The intensity of the gaze left her cold and goose bumps prickled her arms. Fear lodged in her throat, making it difficult to breathe. And then the eyes were swallowed in the crowd.

  “Jake.”

  He snapped his head up. “What’s wrong?”

  Rising slightly from her seat, she scanned the room, but no one looked in her direction. She slid her gaze back to him. “Nothing. I thought I saw something.” She breathed deep and sipped her wine, before offering him a smile. “I’m sorry. This has been a crazy day.”

  ****

  Sara loved the ease of being with Jake. She held his arm, strolling down the snow-covered sidewalks after dinner. A few flakes fluttered to the ground and the crisp wind danced them across the slippery maroon bricks in the street. Dense green garlands wound around black wrought iron lamp posts. Bright emerald wreaths with big red velvet bows hung on buildings or in windows. Blinking multi-colored lights vied with streetlights and traffic. The city was dressed for Christmas.

  Despite the hint of depression and defeat clinging to the city, these changes to the downtown establishments brought hope, helping push away some of the prevalent despair.r />
  When Sara sighed, Jake glanced at her. “You okay?”

  “When is the last time you walked downtown Flint without being afraid?”

  “Good question. Downtown Development Authority has increased its patrols.”

  “They have. Downtown is probably the only place in the city that’s safe.”

  He chuckled. “Right, right.”

  They continued down the sidewalk, pausing at the crosswalk. She leaned against Jake’s warm chest. “Jerry always protected us. That’s why I have such a hard time believing he was shot during a robbery.”

  They started across the street. “Was he acting strange before he died?”

  Sara stumbled, instinctively reaching for Jake. He caught her arm and dragged her against his strong lean frame. She peered into his eyes, their faces inches apart. Her heart hammered at his nearness. “You have this incredible knack for coming to my rescue.”

  “I never could resist a damsel in distress.”

  “My hero.”

  “You can’t look at me that way when you say things like that.”

  She moved her hands to the front of his coat. “Why not?”

  He brought his lips to hers, giving her the only answer she needed. His kiss chased the chill from her bones leaving a slow burning heat in its wake. She curled her fingers in the front of his jacket when he slid his hands from her waist to the curve of her hips. He drew her closer until her breasts met the hard line of his chest. She leaned away, allowing the winter air to cool their heated embrace.

  “That’s why,” he murmured, his eyes full of passion.

  She drifted toward him again. A blaring horn made them jump apart. Sara and Jake burst out laughing when they realized they still stood in the middle of the street. Jake grabbed her hand and led her to the relative safety of the sidewalk.

  “I guess that’s what we get for kissing in the middle of the road,” she said.

  He grinned. “I’d do it again. C’mon I’ll take you home.”

  Chapter Four

  “We should go.” Seth edged toward the bedroom door, running an agitated hand over his hair.

  “Whatever the old man gave her isn’t here!” Marty tossed the clothes aside and plucked a slightly crumpled paper from his pocket.

  Seth whirled staring at the door. “Did you hear that? We should go.”

  “You said that already!” he snapped. “I swear you are such a punk.” He tacked the note to the door and smiled at his handiwork. “Now this should produce results.”

  “Calling me names is easy, you don’t have anything to lose.” Seth balled his hands into fists.

  Marty smirked. “I have everything to gain. There’s a very valuable diamond in one of those boxes and I want it.” He fixed Seth with a glittering stare. “And having the stone will make everything we’ve done worth the effort.”

  ****

  Arriving at her tiny house a few moments later, Sara immediately knew something was wrong. The blinds hung crooked in the front window. She put a hand on Jake’s arm when he helped her from the car.

  “What?” he said.

  “I think someone’s been in my house.”

  He glanced from her to the house, pushing her behind him. “All right, I’ll go in first. You wait here.”

  “I’m not waiting out here by myself! I’m going with you.”

  “Fine, but stay behind me. Give me your keys.”

  When they neared, Sara noted the dark space between the door and the threshold...the door hung ajar. Jake pushed it open. Sara slipped past him and flipped a wall switch. Light illuminated overturned furniture, papers and books littering the floor. A crystal vase lay shattered on the wood laminate, the flowers wilted and crushed beneath shards of glass.

  Sara gasped, covering her mouth with her hands.

  Jake glanced at her. “Stay here.”

  He picked through the debris, went to the hall and disappeared. A door on each end led to a bedroom, the middle door to a bathroom. He reappeared and went toward the kitchen.

  Sara surveyed the room, tugging her coat closer. Moments ago her world had been fine, but now...now that nice warm safety had been stripped away. She stood exposed, naked for all to see. First the near mugging and now this. Maybe it was all related. She shuddered. Her eyes fell on the leaning Christmas tree, braced haphazardly against the blinds. Stepping with great care around the broken glass and torn cushions, their white cottony innards spilling to the floor, she righted the tree and then adjusted the blinds.

  Jake reentered the room. “Nobody’s here. I even checked the basement and the bedrooms. Did you know you have an old coal chute?”

  Sara nodded, retrieving a broken ornament lying on top of her blue Christmas stocking. She held the ornament in her hand until her vision blurred. The crystal swan had been a gift from her great-grandmother before she died. The senseless destruction was too much and pushed her over her emotional edge.

  Sara didn’t realize she was crying until Jake gathered her in his arms. She stood rigid a moment before melting in his embrace, resting her head against his chest. Solid. Safe. He always seemed to see her at her worse. She inhaled his spicy scent. If she could stay in his arms forever it still wouldn’t be long enough.

  “The presents are still under the tree.” She stepped back.

  He handed her his handkerchief.

  Swiping at her tears, she set the broken swan on a table and walked to her bedroom, Jake followed. She stopped in the doorway. The closet door hung askew, the screws dangling from the broken hinge. Clothes spilled from bent hangers onto the floor, while shoes and their respective boxes were heaped into an unruly pile. “My TV and computer are here.” Crossing the room, she lifted her jewelry box from the floor, still locked, the key nestled securely in the clasp. She turned the key and lifted the lid. “All my jewelry is here.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “If I wasn’t robbed, what were they looking for?”

  Jake gripped her shoulder. “You can’t stay here.”

  Sara shrugged him off. “No one is going to run me out of my home.”

  “You’re not safe!”

  “This isn’t the first time I’ve been a victim of a break-in.”

  He huffed. “Pack a bag. You’re coming with me.”

  “No!”

  “Well you’re not staying here by yourself. What if the intruder comes back?”

  She stiffened. What if he did? What if he hadn’t found what he was looking for the first time? Aware of Jake’s scrutiny, she avoided his gaze, but couldn’t stop her shoulders from drooping.

  “I know you want to be independent and all, but I don’t want to see you hurt,” he said, his tone gentle. “Here,” Jake handed her a sheet of paper. “He’s quoting ‘Santa Claus is Coming to Town.’”

  “Where did you get that?”

  He pointed to the open closet door. “Read it.”

  Sara snatched the note from his outstretched fingers. Unable to comprehend the thick, black lettering at odds with the bright, cheery words of the Christmas carol. Better watch out? A small moan escaped her lips when her brain finally comprehended the meaning.

  “This is a very sick joke.” She stared at the writing again before crumpling the paper into a ball. With everything that had happened the last few weeks, the break-in and the muggings were beginning to make sense. She sank to the mattress and dropped her head in her hands.

  Jake crossed the room and sat next to her. “What are you thinking?”

  “This is insane. If ransacking my house has something to do with the bakery and the boxes, we need to know what’s in the fourth one. We’ve never found anything that would warrant all of this.” She waved her hand around the damage in the room.

  “What was in the boxes?”

  “Old love letters, pictures, property deeds, jewelry, art work.” She shrugged. “Some of the prints are hanging in the bakery.”

  “That stuff seems harmless enough.”

  Sara smacked her hand against her forehead.
“Tori said some of the etchings were missing.”

  Jake widened his eyes.

  “Those copper plates hanging in the bakery on the show floor.”

  “I thought they were knick-knacks Granddad picked up at a garage sale.”

  Sara nodded, chewing her thumbnail.

  “Come to think of it, Granddad mentioned some missing candlesticks. Said he was going to install a camera to keep an eye on the shop. Did he say anything to you?”

  “I wish he had. Maybe we could’ve learned who killed him.” Sara expelled a ragged breath. “This was such a great evening too.”

  He laced their fingers together. “It still is. Come back to my place. I would feel much better knowing you’re with me.”

  She gazed into his handsome face; the concern in his eyes weakened her defenses. The caress against her skin reminded her of the kiss they shared and, well, maybe staying with Jake wouldn’t be such a bad idea after all. “Okay. Give me a couple of minutes.”

  He nodded. “I’ll check the house again. Maybe I missed where the intruder came in.”

  Sara waited until Jake’s footsteps faded down the hall. She dropped to her knees and ran her hand along the smooth wood of the bedrail until her fingers brushed the ends of an envelope. Running a fingernail along the edge of the tape, she peeled the strip and stuffed the thin package in her coat pocket. Straightening to her feet, she hastily shoved her laptop and a few other things she would need in a backpack.

  She was in the bathroom packing her toiletries when Jake returned. “I’m almost done,” she said.

  “Did you change the locks after your purse was stolen?”

  Sara stopped, a travel-size tube of toothpaste in her hand. “Yes. Why?”

  Jake glanced around. “None of the windows are broken. The lock doesn’t look tampered with, so I’m thinking whoever broke in had a key.”

  She dropped the toothpaste in her bag, struggling over whether or not to tell him. She sighed. Not here. “Let’s go somewhere we can talk.”

  Fifteen minutes later Sara unfolded the papers she’d taken from her bedroom. “Jerry asked me to give this to you, if things went strange.”

  “You mean you’ve had this all along?”

  “I’m sorry.”

  Jake brushed her shoulder, and her body tingled.