The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!

by Christy Barritt

  I just hoped all of this didn’t blow up. That the right person took the bait.

  I’d organized many shenanigans in my life, but the stakes seemed especially high on this one.

  While everyone else watched the butterflies flutter in the air—another practice I didn’t approve of, in case anyone was wondering—I slipped back inside. I didn’t have much time.

  Just as I rounded the corner, I practically tackled someone approaching on the other side. I sucked in a deep breath, fear causing my already heightened emotions to skyrocket.

  My breathing slowed when I saw a familiar face. Dr. Moto.

  “Sierra, are you okay?” He peered at me, concern across his fine features.

  I nodded, my heart still stampeding out of control. “I’m fine. Just running up to the bathroom for a minute.”

  “While I have you here, I wanted to say thank you.”

  My throat squeezed as I realized the minutes were ticking away. I tried to look casual as I paused against the wall. “Thank me? For what?”

  “I understand that Winnie may have forged my signature on one of the documents at the office. I consider myself a careful man, but in the future I will be even more careful.”

  “How’d you know?”

  “Shaunda told me. After your talk with her, she felt compelled to come forward. Thank you, Sierra.” With that, he patted me on the back and continued outside.

  As soon as he was out of sight, I ducked down the back hallway and darted up the stairs. I crept inside the collectible room, pushed aside my fears as the darkness surrounded me, and rushed toward the closet. My throat went dry as I opened the door and slid inside.

  “Chad?” I whispered, prickles racing up my skin.

  “It’s me,” he whispered back with a ghostly voice.

  I elbowed him in the stomach—or so I thought.

  “Ow! That was my nose.”

  “Sorry about that.” I settled back comfortably on my knees, making sure I was sitting in a position to easily spring but also not lose my balance and alert anyone of my presence.

  “Do you think this is going to work?” Chad asked.

  “We can only hope.” I’d never done something like this before, so I was by no means an expert.

  We sat in silence for a few minutes, waiting.

  My heart rammed into my chest, echoing all the way to my ears. It was only offset by my aching bones and the slight feeling of nausea that had been lingering in my gut since I arrived at my parents’ place.

  I checked the time on my phone. There were only ten more minutes until the “appraiser” was supposed to be here to pick up the outfits. That didn’t give the culprit much time. If this person was going to strike, it had to be soon.

  As soon as the thought entered my mind, I heard a creak.

  I squeezed Chad’s arm, then froze, listened, hardly even breathed.

  There was a click. Then another creak, almost like . . . footsteps.

  Someone was definitely in here!

  I peered through the crack in the door. A penlight appeared across the room. I heard the sound of something zipping and then tugging. I couldn’t tell much about what was going on, but I had a pretty good guess.

  I waited until I thought I saw the Dolly Parton outfit leave the mannequin. That’s when I knew I had her.

  “Let’s go!” I whispered.

  Chad and I burst from the closet. I darted across the room and flipped the lights. As the dark dispersed, my suspicions were confirmed.

  “Sharo,” I rumbled. “Just as I suspected.”

  She froze mid-action, holding a black leather gown in her hands—a black leather gown that looked just like the one on the mannequin. A double.

  Her eyes widened. “I was just inspecting the dresses before the auction house came by.”

  “No, you’re not. You’re switching these outfits for counterfeits. You used to be a designer, which means you’re probably a seamstress also. Those numbers I saw on your clipboard weren’t itemized billing items. They were measurements for the gown. Dolly Parton’s measurements, to be specific.”

  “Why would I do that?” Her expression looked a little too innocent—forcibly so.

  “You’re selling the real ones to fund your lifestyle, which has been in serious decline since your divorce. I looked it up and saw numerous articles featuring details. Prenups can be a real lemon. Or so I’ve heard.”

  She chuckled unconvincingly. “Those are some theories, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do. Winnie stumbled onto what you’re doing, and you’re the one who really killed her. Mrs. Jericho may have hit her with her car, but you finished her off. That’s why there was mud on your tires also. It wasn’t from the bakery. You went out in the woods searching for Big Boy. He found you after you killed Winnie, knew something was wrong, and tried to stop you. That’s how he ended up eating your necklace. You knew that could be the smoking gun that would put you behind bars.”

  She stared at me another moment before bursting into a run.

  “After her!” I shouted. As if Chad didn’t know.

  We both sprinted toward the door. We had to catch her before she got away.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  We rushed down the stairs, but Sharo was four steps ahead of us. Even in high heels, that woman could run.

  Everyone else was outside in the backyard, so there was no one to stop her. She dodged tables, knocked a lamp into our path, and ran toward the front door.

  Her obstacles slowed us up enough that she was outside before we could hurdle the furniture. I hadn’t anticipated Sharo would be faster than we were.

  I jumped down the front steps in one leap. As soon as my feet hit the pavers, I pushed myself until my muscles strained. This was one pursuit I wasn’t going to let up on.

  She reached her car, and the first self-doubt hit me. What if she got away?

  Just then, something caught my eye.

  I turned in time to see Big Boy bound out of the woods and charge toward Sharo. Before I could say, “Save the animals!” Big Boy had Sharo pinned on the ground.

  Sharo screamed and tried to get the dog to move. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  Just then, Detective Meadows pulled up with a screech and burst from her sedan. “Would someone like to explain what’s going on here? I was just enjoying a Longmire marathon, so I hope this is important.”

  Yes, I’d called the detective first. Of course.

  “I found Winnie’s killer.” I pointed to Sharo.

  “Winnie’s killer has already confessed,” Detective Meadows said with a scowl.

  “That’s right. Please, get this beast off me. I’m innocent here.” Sharo struggled against Big Boy, but she was no match to the dog’s brute—and adorable—strength. Big Boy remained on top of her, his tongue hanging out and drool hitting Sharo squarely on the forehead.

  “Did I mention how helpful those online articles were? Not only did they talk about her divorce, but they also mentioned that she liked to frequent some of the premiere auction houses—mostly for art. But that changed when she saw how much people—namely, my parents—were paying for those outfits of the stars. That’s when a plan formed.”

  “Sounds like a lot of guesses to me,” Sharo said.

  By this time, everyone from the backyard had gathered around for the show. I had to step up my game here.

  “You were never a wedding planner,” I said, maybe with a touch of dramatic flair to my voice. “That much should have been obvious. I mean, what wedding planner doesn’t know what order people are being seated? You offered your services just so you could get into the house and switch out the real outfits for fake ones.”

  “That’s just speculation,” Sharo mumbled, moaning as more doggy drool hit her cheek. “Now will someone get this dog off me?”

  No one moved, including Big Boy.

  “You were in the process of sneaking one of the dresses into your car on Wednesday night—when
you knew my parents would be gone at bridge—when Winnie came stumbling into the yard,” I said, pacing like a cocky defense attorney in court. “You knew she’d seen the dress, and you couldn’t risk being caught. That’s when you thwacked her—I’m not sure with what, maybe your purse—and killed her. You didn’t know what to do, so you drug her into the woods.”

  “Prove it!” Sharo snarled.

  I was on a roll. “Big Boy swallowed your necklace. The symbol on the pendant was the same one that’s on your stationery. I saw it that day I was looking through my parents’ bills. You’ve been trying to catch the dog since that happened. You put poison on his food because you knew you’d eventually be discovered if the police got their hands on that necklace.”

  “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “If you’re innocent, you won’t mind us checking out your trunk, correct?” the detective said. “That would clear everything up.”

  “Not without a warrant!”

  A sure sign of guilt, I couldn’t help but think.

  “If you go upstairs, you’ll see a knockoff of at least three of the collectible outfits that my parents own. How can you explain that, Sharo?”

  I stared down on her. Big Boy seemed to pick up on my cues and began growling.

  Sharo screamed. “Okay, okay. I admit it! I was going to switch out the outfits. No one was supposed to get hurt. I just needed some money. My good-for-nothing ex-husband wrote an ironclad prenup. I have an image to live up to!”

  “Wouldn’t people know these outfits didn’t rightfully belong to you anyway?” I asked.

  She sneered. “I have a buyer in Qatar lined up. I’m meeting him tonight. I was supposed to switch out the outfits at the ceremony yesterday, but everything got canceled.”

  “Who is this buyer?” Detective Meadows asked.

  Something lit in her gaze—the realization that she had the chance to frame someone else. “He’s the real guilty one! Arrest him! I’ll give you his name, his address, anything you need. He was going to smuggle them out of the country!”

  “Why leave Aunt Yori in the closet, though?”

  Sharo didn’t say anything, but her scowl said plenty. “Your crazy aunt walked in while I was getting some measurements. Thankfully everyone already thinks she’s a few stitches short of being held together. Otherwise, if someone had actually believed her, this whole operation would have been toast.”

  Behind me, Aunt Yori started singing, “Viva Las Vegas.”

  That’s why she’d been talking about Vegas! The costumes had triggered the thought of stars onstage, glamour, and sequins. It was all making sense now.

  Detective Meadows took Sharo’s elbow and pulled her off the ground. Big Boy stepped off, looking pleased with himself as he continued to pant and looked unfazed by what had just happened. “You have the right to remain silent . . .”

  As she was leading Sharo toward her car, the detective paused. “Good job, Mrs. Davis.”

  The blood drained from my face as my shining moment turned into a nightmare.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Who’s Mrs. Davis? There’s no Mrs. Davis here,” my mom muttered.

  Speculation fluttered through the crowd. I glanced at Chad, and he shrugged. This was all me. My mess. My moment to spill the truth.

  I held my head high. “Yes, I am Mrs. Davis. Chad and I are married. We tied the knot a couple of months ago.”

  A collective gasp sounded through the crowd.

  My mother stepped forward, her mouth gaping open. “Married? How could you have not told me?”

  “Because I knew you wouldn’t approve. I wanted to enjoy my wedding day, not be worried about making you unhappy.” I braced myself for her reaction. I expected a reprimand, at the least; anger, at the most.

  “I admit that I made some mistakes when you were growing up. If we could go back, I would do things differently. But all I want is for you to be happy, Sierra.” She sounded surprisingly calm and in control. “I don’t always realize that what I consider to be best for you isn’t what you consider the most worthy use of your time, and I apologize for that.”

  “Really?” I was speechless. Truly.

  “I’ll fight for you tooth and nail, Sierra, but in the end the decisions you make are yours, and I must accept them.” She paused, her eyes misting a moment. “When I thought I had cancer, you could say my perspective changed.”

  “Cancer?” My heart felt like it stopped.

  She glanced at my father. “I found a lump on my abdomen.”

  “What?” I still couldn’t believe it.

  “It was biopsied and benign. But still, it made us both realize how very easily we could be in the same position that the many patients we treat are in. There are very few guarantees in life. None of us knows how much time we’ve been given.”

  I glanced at my dad, tears welling in my eyes. “I can’t believe it. What if . . . ?”

  He nodded solemnly. “We didn’t want to tell you because we thought you’d worry too much, especially since you’re so focused on your career.”

  “That’s why you’re doing the vow ceremony, isn’t it? And the costume collecting and bridge games. It’s all because of that. They’re changes that only a possible dance with death can bring about.” Everything suddenly made sense.

  “I started to tell you upstairs in the Collector’s Room yesterday, but we got interrupted,” my father said.

  I’d been trying to protect her; all the while my mom had been trying to protect me, as well. Maybe there were too many secrets in this family, too many good intentions hidden in the glare of past mistakes.

  Without thinking, I threw my arms around my mom. As much as we didn’t see eye to eye, I didn’t want anything to happen to my parents. Maybe I’d wanted them to change just as much as they’d wanted me to change.

  As surprising as it was to me, my parents were real people with real emotions. In their own ways, they cared about me. There were some things we’d never see eye to eye on, but with the realization that they wouldn’t live forever came the desire to try harder, to make the most of the time we had.

  We pulled apart, and I sniffled again. Big Boy even barked, as if to show his approval. But I wasn’t done; there was one more thing I had to say, one more motivation to build bridges.

  I grabbed Chad’s hand and held it tight. “I guess you should all know that not only is Chad my husband, but we’re going to have a baby.”

  Chad’s eyes widened. “What?”

  I nodded, my throat tight and more tears flowing down my cheeks. “It’s true. I’m pregnant.” My hand instinctively went to my belly.

  “What . . .? How . . . ?” Chad looked stupefied.

  “I’d wondered for a week or two. I saw those pregnancy tests this morning and decided on a whim to take one. To my surprise, it came back as positive.”

  “Wow,” Chad muttered. He pulled me into a hug and didn’t let go for a long time.

  I hoped that meant he was happy.

  “I thought it was Reina,” my mom muttered. “I found the test in the trash.”

  “Is that why you’ve been acting so weird around me?” Reina asked. “I thought you were going crazy.”

  My mom nodded. “I know you want kids. I thought it had finally happened.”

  Reina shook her head. “No, Mark and I don’t want kids, actually. We’re quite content with our four-legged children. I didn’t think you’d understand.”

  “Sounds like there’s a lot of misunderstanding going on,” my dad said.

  We all hugged it out before my mom turned back to me. “Congratulations, Sierra. I’m going to be a grandmother again! I can’t believe it.”

  “I say this calls for a celebration,” my dad said.

  “It’s a beautiful day.” I raised my hand to display the marvelous blue sky. “Why don’t we have the renewal ceremony? Just the people who are here?”

  “I like that idea,” my mom said, wrapping her arm around my fathe
r’s waist.

  Big Boy barked again.

  My mom and dad even laughed this time. Surprisingly, my mom leaned toward the dog and patted his head. “You really saved the day, troublemaker.”

  “He’s probably going to be looking for a new home,” I started. “I don’t think the Lennoxes have time for him.”

  “Maybe we should get a dog,” my father said.

  I raised my eyebrows in surprise. Had I heard him correctly?

  My mom obviously felt the same way, because she turned to him with her lips slightly apart. “Are you serious?”

  He shrugged. “The collection-of-iconic-clothing venture didn’t work out very well.”

  “We’ve never had a dog,” my mom said.

  “People with dogs are proven to live longer, healthier lives,” I offered. “And you will be retiring soon.”

  “He’s certainly been a lifesaver this weekend, in spite of everything.” My mom squatted down beside him. “It would be nice to have a watchdog. Maybe I’ll talk to the Lennoxes and see how they feel about this pup staying here.”

  I grinned. “I think it’s a great idea.”

  “But what about the costumes we’ve already purchased?” My mom stood back up. “What will we ever do with those hideously overpriced pieces of clothing?”

  “How about we really do donate the money to Paws and Furballs? It’s the least we could do for our youngest daughter.” He turned toward me. “How’s that sound to you, Mrs. Davis?”

  I nodded. “That would be wonderful. We could really use the funding.”

  “Consider it done, then,” my dad said. “Now, let me go make a few phone calls and see if the priest is available to come out.”

  I smiled as I watched him walk away. Maybe coming home hadn’t been so bad after all.

  Ms. B. squeezed through the crowd. “Congratulations, Sierra. I just know you’re a wonderful wife and that you’re going to be a wonderful mother. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thank you, Ms. B. That means a lot.”

  She kissed my cheeks and then scurried back toward the house.

  When everyone cleared away, Chad pulled me close.