Santa Puppy

by Lynn Cahoon

  “If we want to eat after making cookies all day. You know we’ll have to sample a few.”

  She smiled. “You always were impatient when it was cookie day.”

  “They’re better when they are warm.” I opened the back door. “I’ll be right back.”

  “Jill,” my aunt called after me, making me pause. “Thanks for inviting us to share this with you. I like feeling like a family again.”

  I smiled as I left the house. We’d always been family, but I knew what she was saying. For a lot of years, celebrating the holidays just brought on memories of a past we couldn’t recreate. This year, with the addition of friends and loved ones, it felt like the holidays again. Not just a day where we grabbed dinner together and tried making small talk.

  Of course, I hadn’t invited Aunt Jackie and Harrold to our cookie baking party. But I was glad that Greg had been smarter than me and knew what both Aunt Jackie and I needed before we did. He was a really good boyfriend.

  Emma stood at the gate, watching me come back from the trash cans I kept by the side of the garage. I held up my empty hands. “Nothing for you today. Maybe you’ll be able to sweet-talk Aunt Jackie out of a treat later.”

  Just to be sure, she sniffed both hands when I came into the yard, then sulked off to lay in the grass under a tree where she had a few of her toys hidden. We called it Emma’s tree house.

  “Okay, then, sulk. Just let me know when you want inside.” Having Emma outside in the yard while the four of us were busy in the kitchen wasn’t that bad of an idea. The golden retriever was gentle with my aunt and Harrold, but she was still large.

  I looked back at her. She had her head between her front paws, but instead of watching me, she appeared to be asleep. The dog knew she had time before it was just the two or three of us. And she was patiently waiting.

  I wondered if Thomas’s Lizzie was patiently waiting for a prince who would never come and rescue her, or if like all modern princesses, she had rescued herself. Tonight, I’d finish reading Thomas’s journal and find out if there were any other clues to who this Lizzie was and where in Oregon she could be found.

  But today, it was time to make cookies. I walked back into the kitchen where Harrold, Aunt Jackie and Greg were all gathered around the cookbook I’d pulled out for the recipe. Greg smiled at me and waved me over to join the group. The family.

  CHAPTER 6

  The conference room at city hall was filled with women and smelled like cookies. Christmas carols softly played from a Bluetooth speaker in the corner. And all around the room were tables with cookies. Lots of cookies. I’d met Aunt Jackie at the store. Toby had volunteered to take the end of her late shift. Once he’d arrived, she’d spent more than ten minutes going over the closing procedures. In detail. So instead of arriving promptly at seven, we were fifteen minutes late.

  Amy waved us inside. “There you are. You’re the last to arrive. Go set up your samples and your bags at the end of the table. Then you can mingle with the others. We have coffee and punch over at the end of the room. Thanks for supplying the coffee, by the way.”

  “Not a problem. You did place that sign I provided, right?” Aunt Jackie slipped her jacket off and hung it on the coatrack. She kissed Amy on the check. “Oh, there’s Mary. I need to talk to her.”

  As she disappeared through the crowd of women, I shook my head. “She’s always marketing. What can you do?”

  “I just appreciate the coffee. I didn’t want to just serve whatever I could find at the store.” She took one of the bags I held and walked with me to our spot on the table.

  “Thanks for putting this together. Although I have no idea what I’m going to do with seven dozen cookies.” I put the bags on the table and Amy set out the sample dozen. “It looks like everyone’s having a good time.”

  “For my first Christmas cookie exchange, I think I did a good job.” She waved at Sasha, who was walking toward us, a dancing Olivia by her side. She knelt to be on Olivia’s level. “Hey, beautiful. What’s Santa bringing you for Christmas?”

  “Santa only brings toys to good little girls,” Olivia said, grinning.

  “That’s right. Have you been good?” Amy picked a cookie crumb off the red velvet dress the little girl wore.

  Olivia nodded and took another bite of cookie. “I’ve been very, very good.”

  “She thinks so.” Sasha laughed. “I hear you had a lot of help to bake your cookies yesterday. Jackie showed me a picture of your tree. It’s lovely.”

  “I’m really happy we got a real tree. It just makes Christmas, you know?” I handed Olivia another cookie.

  “She’s going to be on a sugar high for days after this.” Sasha watched her daughter take a bite of the tea cake and laughed when her eyes lit up. “I think she likes them.”

  “Sugar, butter, pecans—what’s not to like? She has good taste.” I caught Olivia’s attention. “Are you coming to the bookstore Saturday to see Santa?”

  She jumped several times, her eyes brightening. “And puppies.”

  “You like puppies?”

  Olivia nodded. “But we can’t have one until we have our own house. Mama says we will soon as we can.”

  “That sounds smart.” Amy glanced over toward the end of the room. “I better get this thing started.”

  Sasha watched as Amy walked away toward the middle of the room. “She’s in her element here.”

  “She does like throwing a party.” Olivia took off to look at the Christmas tree. Greg had gone back to the tree lot and not only gotten a real tree for the station, but also one for the conference room, as he knew Amy was using it for her party. “I learned something new about Thomas yesterday.”

  “Really?” Sasha quickly switched her gaze from watching her daughter to my face, then back.

  “He was in the army. I read the entire journal and it was written like he was talking to her. He’d been sent out on a long patrol and had missed mail for several weeks. When he got back, there was a letter saying she’d moved, but the address she gave him was a PO box. Then the letters stopped coming.”

  “She stopped writing?” Sasha waved at her daughter, who was standing by the tree, waving at her.

  “I think she thought he stopped writing. Soon, his letters came back as undeliverable. He blamed her parents.” I laughed watching as Olivia picked up one present after another and shook them.

  “They probably thought she was too young. You know how protective parents can be.”

  “True. But I found out something else. Harrold knew Thomas.” I pointed to Olivia, who was now picking one cookie from each plate and switching them to a new plate.

  “I better rein her in. I’ll come in early for my shift tomorrow and you can tell me the rest of the story. It’s like watching a romantic movie, although we know this one has a sad ending.” She scurried over toward her daughter. “Olivia Ann Smith. You stop that right now.”

  “Usually, I don’t think children should be allowed at these things.” My aunt had rejoined me after Sasha left. “Of course, Olivia is a very curious child. It shows her intelligence.”

  Amy started talking just in time so I didn’t have to answer my aunt. Sometimes, I think she liked Olivia more than the rest of us.

  We spent the rest of the evening picking out cookie bags to take home and mixing with friends. Christmas wasn’t turning out half bad after all.

  * * * *

  The next morning, I had seven dozen cookies sitting on my kitchen table, staring at me. Plus I still had three dozen of the Russian tea cakes from our baking session. I bundled most of the cookie bags into a tote bag. I had a plan for them.

  First stop, after working my shift at the coffee shop, was the funeral home to see Doc Ames. I’d have to drive into Bakerstown, so I left the cookies in the bag and put them up in the plate cupboard where Emma couldn’t reach them. Doc probably woul
dn’t be able to tell me much about how Thomas had died, but the coroner slash funeral director had lived in Bakerstown all his life. Maybe he knew some of the Thomas and Lizzie story.

  I got to the shop but didn’t have a customer all morning. Thursday morning was typically slow, but the fact it was less than a week away from Christmas had dried up the commuter traffic. Either people weren’t working today or they were trying to get in early to clean up work so they could take a Christmas holiday. Either way, I didn’t mind. A slow customer day meant more reading for me. And I took advantage of the time.

  By the time Sasha arrived, I’d finished the mystery and was working on a young adult book set during New Year’s that her book club was discussing in January. She stopped at the coffee bar to grab a cup, then plopped down in the chair across from me. “How do you like it?”

  “I love it. Such a great story. You’re really good at picking books.” I slipped a bookmark into the book and set it on the table next to the mystery. I tapped the other book. “This one’s excellent too.”

  She picked it up. “Mind if I take this? I need something a little darker after I read one of Olivia’s books over and over at bedtime. You can only take so much of happy monsters before you want to scream. I mean really, where are the bad monsters?”

  “In the adult books.” I went to refill my coffee. “So what else did you want to know about Thomas?”

  She listed off what she did know and I flipped open my notebook, adding to each point I had in my notes. “There isn’t much more to say. Except, I’m going to deliver cookies to a couple of places today. Maybe I’ll find out more.”

  “Someone’s going to have a very merry Christmas if you and Greg figure out where the money is supposed to go.” Sasha sighed as she sipped her coffee. “That much money would be enough to put a down payment on a house. Prices are crazy here on the coast. That’s why I’m not even looking until I have my degree. Who knows where Olivia and I will wind up. I don’t want to have to worry about a house I need to sell.”

  “I know I’m not going to get my Christmas wish, but I kind of hope you find some rich guy, marry him, and stay around. I’d miss talking to you if you move across the country.”

  “My future mantra is ‘show me the money.’ But honestly, I’d rather work for it myself than be given it by some guy. And if I do marry well, as my gran says, I’ll be sure to tuck some money away into a rainy day fund. Just in case. Like I said, you never know about men.”

  “Sounds like a smart plan.” I glanced at the clock. “Well, if I’m going to get to Bakerstown and see Doc Ames before he closes for his afternoon nap, I better get going. Are you working tomorrow?”

  “Yeah. Toby had a shift with Greg come up so he asked me to cover his slot.” She held up her hand, warding off what she thought I was going to say. “I need the hours. If he wants to give them to me, I’m not going to complain. No matter the reason behind why he can’t work.”

  “It’s your life.” I smiled to soften the words. “I just don’t want to see you getting hurt.”

  “I’m a big girl. I know Toby’s Kryptonite for me. I just need to keep our relationship at the friends and coworkers level. Dating someone in South Cove would be too hard. How do you break up with someone you see every day?”

  Sasha’s question hung with me all the way to Bakerstown. As soon as I’d arrived at the house after leaving work, I’d moved the cookies from their hiding place out of Emma’s reach to the car. Then I’d grabbed the leash and my dog. The day was turning out to be cool and beautiful, so since I wouldn’t be at either of my stops long, I’d decided to take Emma with me on the road. She sat in the front, glancing back at the rear of the vehicle where I’d stored the cookies. I had a police-type wire enclosure that either kept her in or out of the back of the vehicle, depending on my mood. Today, I wanted her front and center with me. Mostly so I could talk out my different theories with her. She never interrupted and rarely told me I was stupid for even thinking that way. Of course, Greg never said stupid either, but he did get this sad expression when he found out I was investigating something he’d told me to stay out of.

  I really needed to get a new hobby.

  I pulled into the empty parking lot and rolled Emma’s window down. I went into the back and got one of the premixed bags of cookies I’d made on Wednesday night. Then I grabbed a second. Doc Ames lived alone and from what I knew didn’t have many friends. I suppose that being the doctor of the dead kept people from bonding, even if the guy was one of the sweetest men in Bakerstown. I locked the doors and went to the home. Wandering through the empty building, I got the creeps.

  Luckily, Doc Ames must have heard me come in, as he popped out of a doorway and asked, “Can I help you?” He blinked in the dim light. “Oh, Jill, I didn’t realize it was you. Is this a personal or professional visit?”

  “Kind of both. I brought cookies.” I followed him back into his office and set my tote on one of the two visitor chairs. “And I wanted to pick your brain a little. I wanted to find out what you knew about Thomas Raleigh.”

  “Oh, Thomas. I can’t believe I didn’t recognize him when I did the autopsy. You know we went to school together here at Bakerstown High.” He poured two cups of coffee and slid one over to me. “He played football and was in the concert band. Trumpet, if I remember.”

  I knew this was the right place to come. Doc Ames knew everyone in the area. “Was he dating anyone?”

  “Of course. He and Lizzie were joined at the hip as soon as she showed up her freshman year. He was a junior so her folks weren’t too happy about his attention. But they stayed together, no matter what the problems. When he went off to the army, she…” Doc Ames bit into a cookie, frowning a little. “I think she must have moved away. I was away at college, but you hear things, especially when you come back. And her folks moved her to Washington or Idaho.”

  “Maybe Oregon?” I prompted the memory.

  He nodded. “That was it. A little town up in the mountains. And that’s the last I heard about Lizzie. Thomas came home the year I went to medical school. I hear he tried to find her, but there wasn’t any trace. I guess her parents won that war after all.”

  He sipped his coffee and ate another cookie. “I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t follow up with Thomas after I got back. I’d just gotten married and my father was ready for me to take over, so my days and nights were filled with either my family or the dead. Then I was talked into taking on the job of county coroner, and the years flew by.”

  “You can’t blame yourself.” I sipped my coffee. “Greg was saying he died of natural causes.”

  “Oh, he did. But maybe if I’d been a better friend, he wouldn’t have wound up homeless and on the streets for the last few years of his life.” He shook his head at the memory. “Regrets are just a way of not dealing with today. You can’t change the past, now, can you?”

  “No, you can’t.”

  We sat in silence as we finished our coffee. Then I stood. “Thanks for talking to me. I didn’t mean to make you sad.”

  “I’m not sad, and you didn’t make me feel bad. I’m just thinking about the past. And when I get down that trail, sometimes it’s hard to pull myself out. I’m planning on coming down for your party on Saturday. I’ve decided I need to find a senior cat who’s as grumpy and hard to get along with as I am. That way, we’ll suit each other just fine.”

  I hurried out to the car. Emma sat on the seat, watching the door to the funeral home. When I came out, she barked at me.

  “I’m coming. Sorry, I needed to talk to Doc Ames for a bit.” Before I got into the car, I clipped on her leash and led her to the sidewalk and the strip of grass between the parking lot and the road. “Do your business.”

  Emma found a tree and watered it, then came back to my side. I always carried water and a bowl in the car so I got it out and poured her a drink. When I figured she was satis
fied, we loaded up and got ready to go to our next stop.

  The Veterans Center was in its own building just down the street from the mortuary. I guess they got a good deal on the property since most people don’t want to live down the street from the place where they take care of the dead.

  I checked Emma’s window, grabbed the rest of the cookies, then locked up the doors. “You be good. I’ll be right back out and we’ll go for a run on the beach when we get home.”

  This time, I could see the grin on her face. Dogs. Who says they can’t understand what we say?

  I walked up the few steps, then into the open lobby area. People sat around what looked like an oversize living room. A few men played cards at a table. In the back, I could see a dining room set up and the room smelled like pasta and garlic bread. I started to move toward a large desk where a man sat, but Beth from the Christmas tree lot stopped me. She had her jacket on and a purse over her shoulder. Apparently, she was leaving.

  “Hey, how’d the tree work out for you?” Beth smiled and shrugged. “Sorry, I don’t remember your name, but that tree was gorgeous. And your man came back on Monday and bought two more. I adore repeat customers. I hope to see you next year.”

  “Definitely. The tree is beautiful.” I glanced around the room. “Are you visiting someone?”

  She shook her head. “Volunteering. I come in a few times a week and help with lunch. It’s the least I can do for people who have given so much for this country.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “Anyway, I’ve got to get back to the lot. You leave those boys alone long enough, they’ll start playing Paul Bunyan and throwing axes at each other.” She shook her head. “Don’t laugh, it’s happened.”

  “Thanks again for the tree,” I called out as she took off for the door.

  When I turned back around, the guy at the desk was watching me. “Let me guess, cookie exchange?”

  “Does my desperation show on my face?” I walked over and dropped the tote bag filled with cookies. “Can I donate them? The exchange was just on Wednesday. They should be fresh.”