by Diane Bator
Mel’s eyes narrowed. “I was here keeping her hair out of her face when she threw up and carrying her up and down the stairs. Where were you? At school? Modeling nude for some drunk artist or sleeping with one?”
When Christina lunged at him with clenched fists, Clancy held her back. “It’s not worth him calling the cops, Sis.”
“I’m leaving for Florida tomorrow.” Their father had walked away. “I’m going to sell the house there, then come home and settle things here. You two can pitch in and keep things running at the bakery until I get back.”
Clancy tightened his grip around her arms, his anger sinking into her skin. “Wait. Why wouldn’t you settle things here first? The Florida house can sit for another month or two.”
“Because I need to get away from everything.” Mel had slammed the door behind him. True to his word, he’d left the following morning, a couple hours ahead of a big thunder storm, and didn’t sound like he’d return anytime soon. That was nearly three months ago. How long did it take to clean out belongings, wash a few walls, and put a house up for sale?
Christina threw the ruined gingerbread house into the compost bin. It was just like her father to disappear from her life when things got tough and was the one thing she had in common with him. The realization hit like a sledgehammer and gave her an overwhelming urge to run out the back door and head for...anywhere but home.
The phone rang around noon while she was elbow deep in another batch of sugar cookie dough. She waited until the fourth ring before yelling to Sophie. “Can you get that?”
The phone rang three more times. By the time she scraped the dough off her hands and washed up, the ringing ceased. “Of course it did. Sophie, what are you doing?”
Nobody answered. Frustrated, she peered into the front of the bakery.
Sophie leaned against the outside of the front window, clouds of her breath swirling around her head, absorbed in animated conversation with a middle-aged man. When Christina banged hard on the window to make sure their impromptu meeting broke up, Sophie stepped into the store, her face red and her eyes wide. “What?”
“I don’t pay you to stand outside and chat with men.” Christina growled. “The phone rang and nobody answered.”
She flicked a strand of hair over her ear. “So why didn’t you pick it up? It’s right beside you.”
“I was covered in dough baking so we have something to sell. That’s what I do back there most of the day,” Christina said. “All you have to do is serve customers and answer the phone.”
“I was treated better at my last job, you know.” Sophie snorted.
Until she went psycho one lovely spring day and tried to run over her philandering ex-husband. Christina didn’t dare speak the words aloud. Sophie knew where the knives were and Christina was desperate for the help.
“Sorry.” Sophie didn’t sound apologetic. “Consider that my break.”
“What break? You just got here. You haven’t even started work yet.” Christina walked through the doorway and floured the stainless steel counter.
She plopped a large chunk of dough onto a thin layer of flour and rammed her hands into it, her favorite part of making sugar cookies. Like being a kid squishing mud between her fingers, she rolled the dough to a quarter-inch thick and reached for the cookie cutters. When the phone rang again, her shoulders tensed.
“I got it,” Sophie called from the front.
“Thank you.” Christina tried to sound cheerful, but beneath her breath added, “You should’ve gotten it the first time, you ungrateful little...”
“It’s Clancy.” Sophie interrupted her mumbling to tuck the phone between Christina’s shoulder and ear.
Christina swore and didn’t bother to clean off her hands again as she grabbed the receiver. “What do you want now?”
“Hey, Sis. I’m doing a tattoo and my friend and I are starving.” Clancy sounded distracted. “Bring us over a couple calzones, will ya?”
“Are you serious? I’m up to my calzones in cookie dough. Come and get them yourself.”
He snorted. “I can’t. I’m putting color in someone’s arm.”
“Tough. Then starve.” She wanted to hang up, but her dough-covered hands were stuck to the receiver.
“Aw, come on, Chrissie.” He should have known by now begging never worked.
Christina hung up, then cut six more cookies while tears swarmed her eyes. Her mother would have not only brought Clancy the calzones, but added a dozen cookies for his staff. That was why Christina could never measure up to her mother’s memory.
Chapter 3
Gut instinct had first pulled Leo into the Needlez tattoo shop, where he was surrounded by bright red walls and garish posters of dragons and skulls. He first saw the shop in September when he’d rented the apartment across the street.
Even though he’d worked with Clancy on the Stephen case during the summer, he didn’t get the chance to drop in until the gym shut down due to management issues. Thanks to Leo, the manager and owners were all in prison for drug trafficking. At least he still had the job at Wild Blue Detective Agency and didn’t have to moonlight as a personal trainer anymore. Being a detective was the only thing that kept him grounded and sane. Most days.
Every now and then, the urge to leave the modern world behind overtook him and he fled to parts unknown. He sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets against the cold. As much as he wanted to run back to Tibet, Danny needed him to stick around Packham for a while longer.
“Leo. Hey, Bro, how’s it going?” Clancy, tall, lean, and smelling of antiseptic, caught him in a fast, one-armed hug. The tattooist was a regular in the gym before it shut down. He was also a creative genius who’d created the exact tattoo Leo wanted, a lion with a billowing mane—like his hair was before Gina got hold of his braid—and whiskey eyes like his own. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”
That wasn’t a good sign since he’d only done the outline on Leo’s shoulder three months ago, before his mother passed away. Leo grinned. “I had to get the tat finished and this seemed like a good time.”
“I heard you rode off into the sunset once the gym closed.” Clancy tidied up his work area and sterilized the stainless steel countertop. “How long are you in town for this time?”
“Dunno. I’ve got no plans just yet.” He’d burned too many bridges back home to suddenly put in an appearance, even if it was almost Christmas. Especially because it was Christmas. There was only so much goodwill he extended toward anyone in his family anymore. Facing death several times had made him more blunt and less tolerant of the drugs and abuse he’d grown up with. While Leo had changed, nothing back home had.
“You got some time to work on my arm this week?” he asked.
Clancy grinned and his green eyes lit up. “You caught me on a good day. Things are kind of slow. There are too many people with Christmas parties who don’t want red, aching arms for family pictures.” He smiled and indicated a picture of a four leaf clover with a name on each leaf. “I’m still trying to get Lucy in here so I can do hers. It’s her Christmas gift.”
Lucy Stephen, the spunky lady with three kids they’d stalked—Lucy’s word—and had to save from her lunatic—Leo’s word—husband. Leo had met her under less than desirable circumstances and had become fast friends with her and the kids. Hardly a day went by without Lucy checking up on him, inviting him to dinner, asking when he’d be back in town because the kids missed his wry sense of humor. While Leo remained friendly, Clancy had fallen hard. Lucy, who insisted she wasn’t interested in a new relationship, seemed to make excuses to see and talk about Clancy on a regular basis.
Leo sat in the chair Clancy waved him toward. “How are things? Does your dad still workout with you?”
“No.” Clancy dug out the file folder with the sketches of Leo’s tattoo then sat on a stool and ran a hand through his hair. “Dad’s in Florida. After Mom passed on, he wanted to go clean out their house there to sell. He’d rather get
a cabin up north in the bush than sit on a beach and roast. Mom’s illness was why I’d brought Dad to the gym to begin with. We both needed the distraction.”
Leo nodded. While he’d trained both Clancy and Mel, he’d only met Daisy a handful of times before the drug bust at the gym and his abrupt return to Newville to do mounds of paperwork. “Is your dad still planning to sell the bakery?”
“Not yet.” He tacked up the image of Leo’s lion, grabbed several bottles of fresh paint, and pulled clean tools from the stainless steel drawers. “My little sister came out from the city to run the shop until we decide what to do with it. Dad wants to keep it going, but she hates the place and wants out.”
“You have a sister? I hope she’s not as ugly as you,” Leo teased. “What does she do when she’s not making cookies?”
Clancy grimaced and rolled his eyes. “From what I hear, she’s a professional art student. I have no idea what she does for fun or if she even has fun.”
Leo was impressed. “She must be a lot smarter than you then.”
“More like lazier than me.” He poured out his paints into small cups and sighed. “She’s cute, she’s brilliant and she can cook up a storm. As far as I know, all she does is go to classes all day and study all night. I think.”
“What do you mean you think?” Leo raised one eyebrow.
He sat back and averted his gaze to the floor. “She came home with a granite chip on her shoulder. When Dad asked her to stay a while after the funeral and help out, she nearly went ballistic. I asked what was so important she had to go back for, but she won’t say. She never talks about her life or her friends. All she’s done is throw herself into her work at the bakery and sleep. She won’t even talk to me. It’s frustrating. I don’t even know my own sister anymore.”
Clancy bowed his head and filled the black lines and shading with brown and gold. “Sorry, man. I don’t mean to dump on you. I’m just worried about her. I wish she’d talk to me or at least to Dad or someone. It’s like she’s not even really here. More like she just wants to be a figment of my imagination.”
“Really?” The detective in Leo was aroused. What kind of secrets could Clancy’s mysterious sister hiding? It might be worth sidling into the bakery later to check her out. And maybe grab a few cookies.
After an hour and a half of coloring in the blank spaces on Leo’s tattoo, Clancy sat back and cracked his back then blew out a long breath. “I’m hungry, how about you?”
“Yeah, you wanna go grab something or order in?” Leo was ready for a break. While they’d chatted about nothing in particular, Clancy made the lion on his arm appear more realistic with each stroke. The process fascinated him, but he’d never have a steady enough hand or the creativity to tattoo anybody.
Clancy dialed the phone then scowled. “Nobody’s answering. I wonder what she’s up to. My sister makes these amazing calzones packed full of pepperoni, bacon, and cheese.”
“Sounds good.”
He redialed. “She started off making them just for me, but when I told people about them, they got so popular she usually sells out before lunch. They were my idea and some days I don’t even get one.” This time someone apparently answered the phone. Clancy placed his order. “I can’t come there. I’m putting color in someone’s arm.”
Leo chuckled and took the opportunity to check out his tattoo.
Clancy scowled and hung up then taped a sheet of gauze over Leo’s tattoo. “She’s ticked off and won’t deliver. Put your coat on, it looks like we’re going out for lunch.”
Leo’s stomach growled as he threw on his coat, tattoo stinging beneath the weight of the leather, and followed Clancy out the back of the shop toward the bakery. They trudged through the six inches of snow that had fallen overnight and through a large grey door. A blast of warm air, pregnant with scents of cookies and fresh bread, made him light-headed.
“We’re here. Where’s our food?” Clancy bellowed.
A woman barely over five feet tall stood near a large steel table in the bakery kitchen. She seemed quite the contrast from Clancy who stood well over six feet. Her thick light brown, almost blonde, hair was pulled up off her thin neck to reveal a flamboyant red butterfly tattoo. When she slid a tray of cookies into the oven and shut the door, sweat shone on her toned arms and darkened the back of her green camouflage tank top between her shoulder blades.
“Close the damn door,” she snapped without a backward glance. “I’m running a bakery here, not a home for wayward penguins.”
Leo clenched his hands at his sides to keep from reaching out to push back the damp hairs off her neck for a better view of the butterfly. “You’re right, she is cute. And funny.”
She spun around and knocked a steel bowl full of cookie cutters off the counter. The bowl clanged on the painted concrete floor and rolled toward the oven while the cookie cutters clattered to the white tile floor. Her freckled elfin face was dusted with flour, some of which rose off her lips as she huffed. When she glared at Clancy, her eyes reminded Leo of the slate gray-green Himalayan Mountains at sunset. Her red lips shone like the juicy flesh of a watermelon. He’d forgotten how much he liked watermelon.
“I forgot to mention she’s a little clumsy. Sorry, Sis.” Clancy picked up the bowl then hugged her. “This is Leo, one of the guys I work with. Leo, my little sister Chrissie.”
“Chrissie?” Leo picked up the cookie cutter which had ended up next to his boot.
“Christina really.” Clancy grinned, one arm still draped across her thin shoulders. “She’s a recently domesticated wild cat and the name Christina never really suited her. I have no idea what our parents were thinking.”
“Christina?” Leo handed her the cookie cutter. “Poor child. Chrissie’s not much better.”
Her eyes narrowed as she set the cookie cutter on the counter and folded her arms across her faded tank top. Full defensive mode. Her gaze zeroed on Leo as her nostrils flared. “Oh yeah? And what does Leo stand for?”
“Leopold Irving Blue.” He had a hard time looking her in the eye as he gave a slight bow.
She snorted. “Leopold Irving? Did your parents hate redheads?”
“You could say that.” When he winked at her, a flush spread across her chest and into her face. Locked into her gaze, he couldn’t help but stare, already intrigued by Clancy’s description. He wanted to know every intimate detail and fought the urge to wipe his damp palms on his jeans. While he could pass his clammy palms off as sweat from the ovens, the warmth that surged through his body had nothing to do with the temperature of the kitchen.
Clancy cleared his throat. “Uh, calzones?”
“In the microwave like I said they’d be.” She drew in one more breath and tore her gaze away from Leo’s as she turned back to the table. Her neck became mottled with red blotches.
“I thought I turned the radio on when I was here earlier? She has a real problem with Christmas music.” Clancy roamed into the front of the store. Soon the instrumental strains of Silver Bells filled the air.
Christina groaned and her shoulders drooped.
Leo moved toward the table for a better look, standing as close to Christina as he dared. She smelled as sweet and spicy as her desserts. He should move away before he said or did anything stupid. “Those look good.”
“I hope you’re talking about the cookies.” She scowled. “They’ll look even better after they’re baked.”
He grinned, sitting on a nearby stool. “I hope we’re still talking about the cookies.”
As her gaze met his, the color in her face deepened until she matched the Christmas sprinkles on the table and she bowed her head.
Clancy stuffed part of a calzone in his mouth then handed one to Leo. “These are amazing. Since she took over the store, she’s actually learning to cook too. I keep telling her she’d do better to turn the place into a pizzeria instead of keeping it a frigging bakery.”
Christina glared. “Gee, thanks.”
She’d stuffed the
calzones with sauce, pepperoni, and at least two different kinds of cheeses. Leo would have been happy to sit and savor the textures and tastes rather than head back to the tattoo parlor so soon. Of course, he also wanted to watch Christina work for the rest of the afternoon. Something about the way she struggled to ignore him only aroused him more. He’d never met anyone quite like her.
“We’d better get back to the tat.” Clancy nudged Leo’s shoulder and headed for the door. “Later, Sis.”
“I’ll be right there.” Leo watched Christina roll out more dough, droplets of sweat rolling down her neck while the muscles in her arms rippled. “Your brother wasn’t kidding, these are amazing. How much do I owe you?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Christina waved a hand. “Since you’re one of Clancy’s strays, the first one’s on the house. Just leave.”
He stood so close to her the scents of cinnamon and ginger wafted off her hair into his nose. “How about I buy you dinner sometime and we’ll call it even?”
“Are you asking me out?” She stiffened, then turned and collided with him, her gray-green eyes wide. When she took a half step back, she bumped against the table. “You just met me.”
“Going for dinner would be a good way to get to know you better.” He enjoyed watching her squirm. “Wouldn’t it?”
Clancy called from the alley. “Let’s go, Leo.”
Leo grinned. “Better go, babe, or your brother will mess up my tattoo just to spite me.”
“Babe?” Christina’s jaw tightened and she shoved him away. “Get out of my bakery. Honestly. You’re just like the rest of the muscle-headed jerks Clancy drags in here. Was he trying to set you up with me too?”
“Whoa, honey. No set up, I just—” He took a step back.
“Honey?” Christina turned away and resumed cutting cookies. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. Hope I don’t see you around.”
“I certainly hope you do. Thanks again.” Leo stood his ground and reached out to trace the butterfly on her neck with a single finger. When her back stiffened, he left through the back door, grateful for the slap of cold air against his body as he left the bakery and shivered. Maybe spending Christmas in Packham wasn’t the worst he could do after all.