Miss Frost Chills the Cheater

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Miss Frost Chills the Cheater Page 10

by Painter, Kristen


  “No, we were told this was a contest here at the farm.”

  He shook his head. “We don’t do those. I promise. We have enough going on with thirty children trying to catch the goats, put peeps in their pockets, and playing hide-and-seek in the sugar cane. Giving one of them a prize and the rest of them nothing? I’m a brave man, Princess Jayne, but I’m not that brave.”

  I laughed. I liked Farmer Brown. “I understand. So no contest, no stuffed chicken?”

  “Not to my knowledge, Your Highness. But if you’d like, we can walk over to the gift shop and ask my daughter about it.”

  “That would be great.”

  We followed him next door. The gift shop was pretty much a large shed that had been annexed. There was a whole wall of goat-milk products, like soap and hand lotion, a glass-front cooler with drinks, a couple shelves of packaged snacks and candy, more shelves with books on farming, some cookbooks, and some T-shirts and ball caps like the one Farmer Brown was wearing.

  There was also a large display of stuffed toys. Chickens, peeps, goats, and a smiling stuffed sugar beet.

  Farmer Brown leaned on the counter and tipped his head at the young woman behind it. “This is my daughter Greta Ann. She manages the gift shop. Greta Ann, this is Princess Jayne and her guest, Sinclair Crowe.”

  Greta Ann made a deep curtsey, almost disappearing behind the counter. “Pleasure to meet you, Princess, and Mr. Crowe.”

  She had a sprinkling of freckles across her nose that made her seem younger than she was, but I guessed her age around thirty. “You too. We’re trying to find out if you remember one of the school children that was here last March or April by the name of Lyla Kinder? She apparently won a contest while she was here and was sent a stuffed chicken after the visit.” I pointed to the rack of toys. “Probably like one of those white ones.”

  “We don’t run contests, but I did send her a chicken. A woman came to the farm a day after that school visit and had me send it to her. Said it was Lyla’s birthday and she’d wanted it and it was to be a surprise.”

  I looked at Sin.

  He nodded. “Good thing we dug deeper.”

  “For sure.” I looked at Greta Ann again. “What can you tell me about this woman?”

  She shrugged. “Not much, I’m afraid. She was average build. Short, medium blue hair with a few silver streaks. Maybe midsixties? Pretty sure she had glasses too. She paid cash. Handed me Lyla’s address on a slip of paper. And a sealed note to go with the chicken.”

  “Did she say who she was?”

  “I assumed a relative. She talked a lot, I’ll tell you that. So much so that I couldn’t do much but nod and take some notes.”

  “Probably so you couldn’t ask questions,” Sin said. “What did she talk about?”

  “All sorts of nothing. The weather, how much she liked animals, how much she liked sugar, how pretty the farm is, what fun it must be to live here, lots and lots of small talk.”

  Clearly the woman had known what she was doing. “Do you have anything that might help us find her? Or figure out who she is?”

  Greta Ann pursed her lips. Then she ducked down and came up with a big accounting journal. She ran her finger down the tabbed edge, found what she was looking for and flipped it open to that section.

  From a small pocket on that page, she removed a little bundle of papers, and from that she separated out a small, creamy piece of paper and handed it over. “This is what she gave me with the address.”

  I pulled out the note I’d been handed at lunch and compared the two.

  The paper was a match.

  We hightailed it back to my uncle’s office. Not to see him, but to see Mamie, who I had started to think of as Birdie’s North Pole equivalent. I bet the two would get on famously, despite being worlds apart. Hey, they both even had blue hair. Although Mamie’s was more silver now, and Birdie’s was just a rinse. And really, with Birdie, that blue could be pink by the time we got back to Nocturne Falls.

  Chaos reigned in my uncle’s office when we stepped off the elevator. Supervisors from every department jostled for position in front of Mamie’s desk, desperate for her attention. And, I’m sure, access to my uncle. She was speaking with one of them, but not getting very far from the looks of things.

  At the chiming of the elevator, some in the crowd looked our way.

  My name was uttered, and a few more of the group shifted in our direction. Followed by all of the crowd shifting in our direction. I was starting to wish we hadn’t come back here.

  “Princess Frost,” one of the builders began as he sketched a short bow. “Have you seen this?” He thrust the afternoon edition of the paper under my nose.

  “I…no.” I took the paper from him. Instantly, I saw what the outrage was all about. Or at least what had caused it. The headline read Incoming Administration Could End All Worker Benefits.

  Now I was angry. I shook the paper in the air. “This is pure speculation. Actually, it’s a flat-out lie. This is several lies, really. First of all, there is no incoming administration. Not in any immediate future sort of way.”

  “They mean your new boyfriend,” someone in the back shouted.

  “I know what they mean. But they’re wrong. He’s not incoming any more than I am. My father has many, many years left on the throne.”

  A few grumbled responses, but some of the fight seemed to leave them. That was a good sign, because it meant they could still understand what was fact and what was fiction. But I wasn’t done.

  I shoved through the group to stand beside Mamie’s desk. “Secondly, no one’s benefits are getting ended or diminished or cut or changed in any way. Understood? That’s my word on that. And I can guarantee that’s my father’s word on it as well. I’m sure my uncle will back me up as well.”

  A couple of nods in the crowd. They were listening now.

  I dropped the paper in the trash. Where it belonged. “And speaking of my uncle, he’s who handles worker benefits. Not me, not my father, not the monarchy in any way. So any changes would come from Santa himself. Not the Winter King or Winter Queen. You all know that. You’ve lived here all your lives. Nothing’s changed.”

  I shook my head and tried to make eye contact with each of them. “Don’t you see you’re deliberately being spun up? Why would you suddenly think after all these years that things are going to be different? They’re not.”

  The remaining anger drained from their faces. In quite a few, it was replaced by embarrassment or a little shame.

  Good. They needed to feel that so they’d remember this and think twice the next time. But I had more to say. “Whoever wrote that piece clearly has an agenda. One against the monarchy. Or maybe just my relationship with Mr. Crowe. I’m not sure, but I plan on getting to the bottom of it. In the meantime, if any of you has something to say about my father’s rule, me, or my love life, here’s your opportunity to speak up.”

  I tapped my pointer finger on Mamie’s desk for emphasis. “Right now. I’m listening.”

  Silence. Just as I suspected there would be.

  Then a foreman from one of the building crews stepped forward. “I’m very sorry, Princess. We don’t have anything against any of you. We lost our heads, is all. Seeing that article…” He shrugged. “We won’t fall for that a second time. And I’m embarrassed we did the first time.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.” I looked behind him. “Anyone else have anything to say?”

  Fedina Berry, one of the head bakers, tentatively raised her hand. “I’m sorry too, Princess. I hope you don’t hold this against us. I, for one, am very happy you’ve found a…friend like Mr. Crowe. You deserve happiness. And for the record, I’d be thrilled to bake your wedding cake.”

  That sent a ripple of gentle laughter through the crowd and a rush of heat into my cheeks. “That’s very kind of you, Fedina. We’re, uh, not quite at that stage of the planning yet, but I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Sin was grinning wildly. “Yes, very k
ind. I like chocolate.”

  More laughter. The incident was well and truly over.

  I softened my tone. “Now, if the rest of you could please spread the word about these unfounded rumors and calm your crews down, that would be greatly appreciated. Will you do that for me?”

  They all nodded, and a few more came up to personally apologize as they filed out.

  When the last one had left, I turned to Mamie. “What in the snowballs was that? I’ve never seen them like that.”

  She shook her head. “Neither have I. That article…” She sighed. “We are living in strange times, Princess.” She picked up a pen and notepad. “Did you want your uncle? He’s not in at the moment, but he should be back very soon.”

  “No, that’s okay. I actually want to ask you something.” Then I would deal with this inflammatory article.

  “Oh?” She blinked at me, setting the pen and pad down to rest her hands on the desk. “What is it?”

  I pulled out the note from lunch, then the slip of paper with the address on it. “These two pieces of paper look exactly the same to me, but I figured if anyone knows about office supplies, it’s you. So are they the same? And where in the NP would you get this kind of paper?”

  She adjusted her desk lamp and looked at the two pieces for a long, thoughtful moment. She gently ran her fingertip over each surface. Then she held both up to the light and nodded. “Just as I thought. Not sure why I didn’t see it earlier on the note from lunch.”

  “You didn’t really get a chance to examine it then. What do see you?”

  She tapped a spot on the paper. It was a square drawn three dimensionally like a toy block with a T in it. “That’s the tinkers’ watermark. This is the paper supplied to their floor. All the disciplines have their own stationery with distinctive watermarks, just like the palace has its own.”

  “You mean this paper is what’s supplied to the factory floor where the tinkers build the toys?”

  She looked over her spectacles at me. “No, Princess. This is the stationery given out to master tinkers. It’s what’s used on the lab floor. The one with restricted access.”

  I heaved out a breath and frowned. “I might not be an actual detective, but I’ve figured out enough things while living in Nocturne Falls to know that this isn’t just another coincidence. We’re being led down a path. Or pushed down one. And I don’t buy it.”

  “Me either,” Sin said. “Using the tinker’s watermarked paper feels very much like an attempt to pin the blame on a tinker. It’s too deliberate.”

  I nodded. “It is. Which is why I absolutely believe that this whole thing is a setup. We just have to figure out who’s behind it.”

  Mamie lifted her chin. “I am ready and able to assist.”

  “Good, because we’re going to need someone with your exceptional skills to help us.” I tapped the lunch note. “I want to know who could get their hands on this paper besides a master tinker. I would assume the printers and whoever works there, but who else? And that salacious article in the paper—I’m getting to the bottom of that too. It’s the second time something slanted against my family and Sin has been printed since we arrived. There must be something going on there, because it’s not like them to print such blatant lies like that.”

  Mamie got a little twinkle in her eyes. “You should head right over there and have a word with the editor. August Woolsey. He’s a real piece of work.”

  “In what way?”

  “He’s a snow elf. Took over two years ago after the last editor retired. Been at the paper a long time, though. Wouldn’t be surprised if he wrote that article himself. Although, there’s no byline which is odd. Of course, if I’d written that, I wouldn’t want my name attached to it either.”

  “No one would.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “In fact, I was thinking about calling him up and asking him if he had written it. Not sure he’d tell me, though.” Her mouth puckered like she’d just licked a lemon. “He’s gotten so crotchety in his old age. The old fool.”

  I’d never seen Mamie so riled up. “I take it you know him well, then.”

  “You could say that.” She practically growled the words. “He was my first husband.”

  The crawler’s engine purred as the vehicle cut through the snow. I was driving again, since Sin didn’t know the way.

  “What do you think is going on?” he asked quietly.

  “I’m not sure of the why, but obviously someone has an ax to grind with me and my family, and they’re using your presence here as a way to dig that ax in further.”

  “I’m sorry.” He was staring out the window, looking very contemplative. “This wouldn’t be happening if I wasn’t here.”

  “We don’t know that. If this is a plot to take down the royal family, they’d find another way to come after us. You just happen to be a useful tool in their grudge against the monarchy. It happens every great while, but it hasn’t in my lifetime so I guess we were due.” I glanced at him. “This is all going to get fixed, Sin. It will. I swear.” I sighed long and hard. “I hate all of this, I really do. I wanted you to have such a good time while you were here.”

  “All things considered, I am.” He gave me a quick, guarded smile and went back to staring out the window.

  The sight of his handsome face in profile almost made me want to weep with how lucky I was to have such an amazing guy. Smart, sexy, skilled, and a wizard with doughnuts. Who wouldn’t want to marry him? Of course, I’d never answered his question.

  A sudden chill went through me.

  Did he have any idea how I felt? I wasn’t sure, but I needed him to know. “I know I never answered you, but I do want to marry you, you know. I’m just not sure I can say yes yet.”

  His lips parted, but no words came out for a moment. “I know. And it’s important to me that when you say it, you say it with no reservations. I want you to be absolutely sure.”

  “I will be. I love you. So much. We’re really good together.” A new realization hit me. One that thrilled me and scared me in the same heartbeat. “I could abdicate. When the time comes, obviously.”

  He stared at me for a few breaths. “That’s crazy. And amazing. And a huge sacrifice. Huge. But I don’t want you to do that. You shouldn’t have to. It wouldn’t be fair. You’ve prepared your whole life to be queen. You deserve to wear that crown.”

  I smiled. “That’s sweet, but I could be happy with our life in Nocturne Falls.”

  “Could you?”

  I thought about it. Our life there was good. No, our life there was great. It could absolutely be enough for me. But I would miss this place. This life. My family here. The people here—despite everything that was going on—were good. I would miss them too. “I could.”

  “But you’d miss the North Pole. You can’t deny it. You lit up the moment we touched down. It’s obvious you love it here.”

  “I do, but we could visit.”

  “Sure, but it wouldn’t be the same.” He kept watching me, but the look in his eyes had changed. Like a good part of him was deep in thought.

  “What is it?”

  “Who would take your place on the throne if you abdicated?”

  “My cousin.”

  “Francis. The emcee.”

  It wasn’t a question, but I answered anyway. “Yes.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Funny that the man with the most to gain from you being discredited because of your relationship with me was the emcee of the competition that started this whole mess.”

  I gripped the wheel a little harder. I knew exactly what Sin was saying. “Francis wouldn’t…at least, I don’t think he would.” I chewed on my lip a second. “Son of a nutcracker, what if he did?”

  “Could he? I mean, is he capable?”

  I had to breathe openmouthed for a second. “We’ve never been best buds or anything, but we’ve always been friendly. I can’t imagine he’d be the one behind all this.”

  “Then who could you imagine it would be?” />
  “I don’t know.” I frowned as I thought. “He does stand to gain a lot if I abdicate. But he’s assuming that I would abdicate.”

  “True.” Sin’s brows lifted ever so slightly. “Or he’s counting on you being discredited. Either way…”

  “He gets the throne.” I pulled into the Pole Post’s parking lot and shut the crawler off. “That’s a lot to count on. But having the paper behind him would certainly help.”

  “It would.”

  I stared at the building. “Let’s go have a chat with August Woolsey. Then it might be time to go see my cousin.”

  August Woolsey was a tall, wiry man who’d been a champion sled racer back in the day at Edmund Snow High School. I knew that because of the photos on his office wall. There were also a number of journalism awards and certificates, but considering what he’d allowed to be printed in the Post recently, those were a lot less impressive.

  August wasn’t in his office at the moment, but I’d told his secretary that Sin and I would wait in there anyway. One of the perks of being royalty meant she couldn’t say no. Sure, she’d wanted to. I could see it in her eyes. But she hadn’t said it.

  Maybe she would have, if not for how obviously upset I was. Sin had even commented on it once the office door was shut and we’d taken seats to wait.

  He was still looking at me now. “I know you want to destroy this guy, but you catch a lot more flies with honey.”

  “I’m not going to bite the man’s head off. Not at first.”

  Sin smirked. “Good. And look, if he’s responsible, he deserves what’s coming to him, so I’m not going to feel too bad. But are you going to give him a chance to explain himself?”

  “I suppose.” I exhaled while drumming my fingers on the arm of the chair I was in. “Yes.”

  “I think that’s wise and fair and very diplomatic of you.”

  “Thanks. But you know he’ll probably publish another article about the monarchy overstepping its boundaries or bullying the little man or some such thing because of us being here.”

 

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