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

by Christy Barritt

I shook my head. “No you weren’t. You knew these reindeer were here. Just how long were you going to stay silent?”

  He cringed again, his cheeks reddening. “You’re accusing me of breaking the law?”

  “Everyone in town knows you’re still bitter because Paula chose Paul instead of you.”

  He stared at me a moment and then chuckled. “Is that what you think? I got over Paula a long time ago.”

  “Then why are you so bitter toward the family? What did they ever do to you?”

  He stared off in the distance for a moment. “The Davises are like heroes in this town. He employs more than half of the county. He puts on this light show for free. He helps people in need. He can do no wrong!”

  Pieces came together in my mind. “So, you found these reindeer when you came here to ask the Nimbles what they knew. They weren’t home, you snooped and found them. But, instead of returning them, you waited until now. You wanted to be the hero for once.”

  The surprise on his face told me I was right. He sobered and nodded. “You have no evidence.”

  “How can you live with yourself? You’re paid to uphold the law and this is what you do?”

  His face cracked into a huge frown as he ran a hand over his brow. “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I was going to return the reindeer tonight. I really was.”

  “What about your cousin, Sam Bills?”

  His frown deepened. “I may have encouraged him to lay like a dead fish in front of Paul Davis’ factory. Again, I didn’t mean any harm.”

  “You encouraged him to send those emails too, didn’t you?” Everything was starting to make sense.

  He wiped his brow again. “Guilty as charged. I just wanted to feel like the one who saved the day for once. I became obsessed with it.”

  “My reindeer!” a woman squealed behind us.

  I turned and saw Paul and Paula running toward the animals. Once they reached the creatures, they inspected each of them, whispering sweet words in their ears and rubbing their heads.

  “They’re here?” Uncle Paul said. “But what about those tire prints?”

  “Do you think maybe Willie left them when he dropped off that load of hay?” Aunt Paula asked.

  “I suppose that’s a possibility we should have considered earlier,” Uncle Paul said. “All along someone walked the reindeer over the mountain and into this barn. Who would have thought? Sierra, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

  “Forgive you for what?” Paula asked, looking clueless. Paul hadn’t told her!

  “It was a misunderstanding,” I quickly said. “Nothing, really.”

  Paul pulled me into a hug. “Thank you so much. You just saved our Christmas.” Then he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

  “No reason to be,” I told him quietly.

  He looked beyond me to Sheriff Orlando and stiffened. “Sheriff.”

  Orlando nodded back, looking equally as uncomfortable. “Paul.”

  “What? How . . .?” Paula started. “Why exactly are my reindeer here?”

  I frowned and glanced over at little Charlie. “I guess his dad has been without a job. Charlie was hoping these reindeer would help Santa find some employment for his dad.”

  Paula gasped. “I had no idea!”

  I nodded grimly. “It’s heartbreaking, isn’t it? I guess selling Christmas trees helps to put some food on the table, but they can’t pay their mortgage.”

  She grew silent for a moment. “I may just be able to help them. I’ll need to talk to a few people first, though. Communities are supposed to look out for each other. We can’t let this happen.”

  The sheriff nodded beside us. “I agree. We should help. I’ll do whatever I can.”

  Paula nodded resolutely. “I promise that Charlie will have a good Christmas, if it’s the last thing I do. But the show starts in an hour. In order to put my plan into action, I’ve got to get back there and make sure everything is ready. We have our reindeer, so we just need someone to play Santa.”

  “What happened to Santa?” Chad asked.

  “He has a stomach bug,” Paul said.

  “I can fill in,” Orlando said.

  Everyone stopped and stared at him.

  “You mean it?” Paula asked, stepping closer. “You’d do that?”

  He nodded. “Of course I would. It’s the least the sheriff could do to give back to his community.”

  “We’d love to have you help out, Orlando,” Paula said. “Thank you. You’re a real lifesaver.”

  He tipped his hat toward her. “No problem.”

  Finally, maybe he would get his chance to be the hero. I kept my mouth shut, deciding not to tell anyone that the sheriff had been aware of where the reindeer were. Call it Christmas cheer. Call it grace or compassion. But I had a feeling that everything would work out just the way it was supposed to.

  Chapter Fourteen

  That evening, I donned my Mary costume. As I adjusted my headpiece in the mirror, I smiled at my reflection. I was actually looking forward to this.

  The reindeer had been returned, Charlie had apologized, and everything was on track to make this a night of spectacular Christmas fun. I’d even had time to send Cindy an email, encouraging her not to worry about her mistake and asking her to send a “cease and desist” letter to Sam Bills, warning him not to use the Paws and Furballs name anymore or we would pursue legal action.

  Just then, someone knocked on the door. I turned and saw Paula peeking in. “Can we talk?”

  I sucked in a deep breath. “Sure.”

  She walked into my room and sat on the edge of the bed. “I just wanted to say thank you again. You may have single handedly just saved Christmas for this town.”

  “Now you’re exaggerating, but you’re welcome.” My grin disappeared. “What about Charlie? What’s going to happen to him?”

  “We won’t press charges, of course. In fact, Paul just headed to the Christmas tree stand downtown to talk to Mr. Nimble. I wish we’d known about their struggles, but the family always kept to themselves.”

  “It sounds like things have been rough for the family.”

  “Paul is willing to offer Mr. Nimble a position with Good Day Fishing Hooks,” Paula said. “We’re also going to give all the money raised from the pie sales to the Nimbles. They’ll have a good Christmas after all—at least we hope so.”

  “That’s wonderful, Paula. Truly.”

  She pulled me into a hug of polar bear proportions. “We need to get outside and get in place. Are you ready for this?”

  “I’m more than ready. I’m excited.”

  I stepped out into a wonderland. The lights on the front of the house flashed, blinked, and changed colors to the tune of “Up on the Housetop.” Cars were already lined up down the road, and volunteers were rushing around to get everything in place. Even better—a sprinkling of snow had begun to fall from the sky, making everything look like a giant snowglobe.

  I met Chad at the manger and picked up the baby doll that lay there. Something clutched my heart as I hugged the doll to my chest. Maybe it was longing for my own child? Excitement for the future? The promise of new beginnings and the chance to have the family I’d never had growing up?

  “Everything okay?” Chad asked.

  I nodded, tracing the baby’s cheek. “Yeah, everything’s great.”

  As I stood there, adjusting my headpiece once more, I heard a commotion in the backyard. I looked over and saw Mrs. Nimble rush toward Paula, throwing her arms around her. “Thank you so much!”

  My heart warmed. In fact, it may have even grown. Similar to the Grinch’s when the whole town started to sing “Welcome Christmas.”

  I squeezed the baby closer to my chest, feeling like I was at some kind of dress rehearsal for being a mom. Not just at this very moment, but all weekend as I’d learned to navigate family relations and children and hormones.

  “You’re going to be a great mom, you know,” Chad said.

  My smile faltered
. “I’m not sure about that. Facing a Fortune 500 company about the mistreatment of animals seems a lot less scary than being a mom.”

  “You’re going to be great. Someone who cares that much about animals? I have no doubt that you’re going to care even more about a baby.”

  Tears glistened in my eyes. “You mean it?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I really do.”

  I gave him a quick kiss. “Thanks, Chad.”

  I looked around at the nativity, especially as the Wise Men and Shepherds began walking toward us. Something about the scene was beautiful, so much more eloquent than Santa and his reindeer could ever be.

  “What are you thinking?” Chad asked.

  “This nativity . . . it feels hopeful somehow. I don’t know—maybe because hope began with a baby?”

  “Hope is something everyone needs, isn’t it? You’re right. It all began with a baby who offers way more hope than Santa ever could.”

  Just then, Charlie came running over dressed in a tunic and head covering. “Hey, guys! Guess what? I get to be a shepherd.” He held out his shepherd’s staff. “Check out this hooker!”

  Chad and I shared a laugh.

  Chad planted a kiss on my lips. “Merry Christmas, Sierra.”

  My heart felt warm and full. “A merry Christmas it is.”

  Chapter One

  “So, what exactly is the problem?” I pushed my glasses up higher on my nose and gently bounced my three-month-old son on my shoulder as my intern, Mandee Melkins, paused outside a tattered apartment door.

  The college-aged girl pressed her thin lips together in apprehension as she fiddled with the key in the lock. Since I’d known Mandee, she’d always acted nervous and often too eager to please. She’d just started working with me a month ago at Animal Protective Services, formerly called Paws and Fur Balls, an animal rights nonprofit, and was already driving me crazy.

  Mandee’s request for me to meet her here today had almost pushed me over the edge. She had a tendency to be high maintenance, asking for way too much clarification on every assignment I’d given her. She often lingered, waiting for my approval—and praise—on everything she did. She worked late just so she could talk to me, which, unfortunately, was the last thing I wanted.

  I’d left the office to meet Mandee after she called me in a panic about thirty minutes ago. She wouldn’t tell me what was going on, only that she desperately needed my help and it couldn’t wait and no one else would do.

  So here I was. With my baby. With piles of paperwork waiting for me back at the office. At a strange apartment building probably ten minutes away from my own apartment in Norfolk, Virginia.

  “Thanks for coming, Sierra. I can’t describe my dilemma, exactly. It’s better if you see for yourself.” Mandee finally managed to unlock the door before shoving it open with a dramatic push. “To start with, I guess I should tell you that this isn’t my place. I’ve been watching my friend Patrick’s apartment while he’s out of town.”

  I stepped inside behind her, wishing we could speed all of this up. Times like this—my impatient times—made me question how good a mother I was going to be. Weren’t mothers supposed to be exceedingly patient and nurturing? I wasn’t sure I’d earned those titles yet, and that scared me as I thought about the future. I only wanted the best for Reef.

  The inside of Patrick’s apartment smelled like animals and dirty socks and microwaved meals. And Patrick was obviously a slob because trash littered every available surface and made me not want to touch anything. Mandee was a better person than me for agreeing to stay here.

  The only things about the apartment that had any appeal were the huge framed photos on the walls. A close-up of a lizard’s eye, mysterious and haunting. A snake’s upraised head as he stared at something unknown in the distance. A frog with his tongue extended toward a fly on the rock in front of him.

  “Patrick loves snakes,” Mandee continued. “All reptiles and amphibians, for that matter. He thinks they’re super-duper adorable.” As if to confirm it, she leaned toward an aquarium in the living room, where some aquatic frogs swam, and made a baby face at them. “Because you all are.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes.

  I’d hired Mandee after reading her uber-impressive résumé. At age fourteen, she’d not only started a citywide campaign in her hometown of Annapolis, Maryland, where she’d raised $10,000 for a local animal shelter, but she’d also collected a whole truckload of dog food, bowls, beds, and more.

  She continued with her campaign until she graduated from high school, and now she was studying business with the hopes of becoming a full-time fundraiser for animal-worthy causes. The achievement was definitely something to take note of. In my postpartum rush, I’d hired her on her résumé alone.

  Then I’d met her in person on her first day on the job. She looked more like a little girl than a junior in college. More often than not, she donned leggings, colorful Keds, and oversized T-shirts, usually in varying shades of pink or purple. Sometimes she wore her brown hair in braids with clips on the ends.

  She had the personality to match her appearance. Despite my initial misgivings, I decided to stand by my hasty hiring decision. Someone who’d done so many good things couldn’t be all that bad, right?

  “So who is this Patrick guy, exactly? A friend? Family member?” I asked, still bouncing Reef on my shoulder.

  “Just a friend. We were in crew together last spring, and we bonded over our love for animals.”

  “I understand.” I’d bonded with many people over that common trait.

  “Anyway, he’s down in Costa Rica because he won a trip after entering a contest on the back of a cereal box or something. He’s down in the rain forest, where there’s no cell service. Can you imagine not having cell service—”

  “Mandee,” I interrupted. “Forget about the oyster and get to the pearl.”

  I hadn’t used that expression in years. My dad used to say it all the time, and it drove me crazy.

  Whatever the method or word choice, I had to get Mandee focused again. I wasn’t sure how long Reef would stay quiet and happy, but I knew I was on borrowed time. At any moment now, he could start howling, wanting either food or sleep or having gas.

  Little three-month-old boys weren’t much different than their grown counterparts.

  “Oh, right. This way.” She led me down a short hallway and came to a stop in front of a room.

  She seemed to hesitate a moment before pushing the door open. When she did, I spotted a dark room filled with various terrariums. There were probably ten of them on different tables and stands along the edges of the space. The one directly beside me had a gecko inside.

  I sucked in a quick breath when I saw what was inside the rest of them.

  Snakes. There were snakes in these glass enclosures. All kinds of snakes, at that. I recognized a few of them but wished I didn’t.

  I might fight for the rights of animals across the country—the world, for that matter—but snakes still gave me the creeps.

  “This happened,” Mandee said.

  I glanced at the tank she pointed to. It was huge—and I do mean huge. If I had to guess, it held at least sixty gallons. “That’s quite a terrarium.”

  “It’s actually a vivarium.”

  I scowled and pulled Reef closer to me, choosing to let her correction slide. Respect for authority from my employees was important, but my time was more valuable than a reprimand right now. I didn’t want to think about what had lived in that space. I might have a degree from Yale, but sometimes emotions still trumped education.

  “What happened, Mandee?”

  “A thirteen-foot lavender albino ball python was in there.”

  “What do you mean, it was in there?” A shiver rushed through me, and I held Reef closer.

  Mandee frowned and shook her head, still staring at the empty tank. “Chalice was snug as a bug in her little glass house last night. I fed her, just like Patrick told me. Then I closed the door and as
sumed everything was as I left it. I didn’t bother to check on the snakes again until after I got back from my last class. When I came in here, her enclosure was empty.”

  I glanced behind me this time, my thoughts filled with visions of an ugly snake eating my baby. I believed in animals being treated well . . . but I wasn’t sure how I’d react if any animal ever put my baby in danger. I think I’d go all Mama Bear on the creature, and my career with APS would thus be over. Yet, it would be worth it if it meant protecting my son.

  I had to stay focused here. I was the director of a national nonprofit. Respected in the field. I’d written papers and articles that had been published internationally.

  This was no time to look weak or wishy-washy.

  “Did you latch the lid?” I peered closer at the little hooks there.

  Mandee squirmed. “They’re broken. I didn’t think it would be a big deal. I mean, if she got out, she’d stay in this room, right? Besides, Patrick must not have thought it was a very big deal because he didn’t say anything.”

  Irritation rose in me, but when Reef cooed on my shoulder, the emotion dissipated. I kissed his head, mentally kicking myself for not leaving him at home. But Chad—my husband and Reef’s dad—had a big construction job out in West Virginia that he was getting ready for today, and he couldn’t have easily watched Reef either. I just wasn’t ready to find a permanent sitter for my baby. He belonged with me. It was the way nature had intended, and no one was going to change my mind about that.

  “Did you look everywhere for her?” I finally asked.

  She nodded. “I looked all around the apartment. Kitchen cabinets. Under the couch. Even in my bed. She’s nowhere. But it’s strange because snakes like that can’t just disappear. I mean, she has to be somewhere . . . unless a snake rapture happened.”

  I tried not to sigh. But Mandee drove me absolutely crazy with her cutesy sayings and her hunger to impress. I wanted to help her, but I was so tired, and I felt like everyone needed me. I was being pulled in too many different directions, and every route seemed important.