Miss Frost Chills the Cheater

by Painter, Kristen

  “Yeah, I know. Let’s go call Larsen and tell her we got nothing new.”

  We went back to my uncle’s office by express elevator and used the phone to call the constable’s office. I told her Dora was headed home, and Larsen confirmed that her deputy was already trailing her, then thanked us.

  I hung up, unable to contain my disappointment. “What if she’s not going home? What if she’s going to meet up with whoever she’s in on this with?”

  “Then the deputy will let us know what happens.” Sin shrugged. “I know you don’t like being out of the loop, but I don’t see what else we can do.”

  Mamie was making a cup of gingerbread tea. She walked back to her desk, sending the aroma our way. It mingled with the sweet scent of the bouquet taking up the corner of her desk. Snow lilies, frost roses and crocus. Those were new. “I’m sorry the file wasn’t of more help,” she said.

  I shrugged. “I guess it was silly of me to expect some kind of clue in there.”

  Mamie sipped the tea, the steam clouding her glasses for a second. “Hmm.”

  “What?”

  She was staring at the flowers. “It just occurred to me, now that he and I are on speaking terms again, but you know who might really have the dirt on Dora?”

  “Who?”

  An odd look came over her face. She sipped her tea again, then set the cup in its saucer and sighed. “August Woolsey.”

  So that’s who the flowers were from. How about that. “Why would he know?”

  “He’s been at the Post for decades. He knows everyone and hears all sorts of things. Couldn’t hurt to talk to him.” She lifted one slim shoulder. “What else do you have to do while you wait on Constable Larsen?”

  Sin put his hands on his hips. “She’s got a point.”

  “I guess we’re going back to the paper.”

  Mamie picked up the phone, smiling slightly. “I’ll let him know you’re on your way.”

  I suppressed a grin. “You do that.”

  August met us right inside the entrance of the Post. “Welcome back.”

  “Thank you.”

  He and Sin shook hands. “I understand you need some information.”

  “We do,” Sin said.

  “Let’s go to the research library.”

  Sin nodded. “Lead the way.”

  “You know we’re looking for anything you can tell us about Dora Frigit, right?”

  “Yes,” August said. “Mamie filled me in. Somewhat.” He glanced at me. “I understand some things can’t be revealed, so I don’t know everything, just that there’s an investigation going on. My lips are sealed, I promise.”

  “I believe you.” After what we’d just been through, I counted August as one of the good guys. And I knew he wanted to stay on my good side.

  We went down a level via the elevator and exited only to be faced with a large set of locked double doors.

  August pulled out a key. “All of the reporters have keys, and some of the other staff. This area is mostly kept locked as a precautionary measure against environmental influences.”

  He unlocked the doors and pushed them wide. They opened with a hiss of air, and the fragrance that reached us reminded me of old books. Paper and leather and bindings. Plus some age. It wasn’t a bad smell. Sort of like a library on steroids. He smiled and gestured to the enormous space beyond. “Welcome to the history of the North Pole.”

  Sin stood silently inside while August closed the doors behind us.

  I did too. Row after row of shelving filled the space. Each shelf was heavy with tall, leather-bound books. A few feet from us was a large glass case. Behind it, marking the center of the enormous room, were more glass cases. They were as tall as Sin and seemed to hold smaller books, some artifacts, and singular pieces of paper displayed on stands.

  I glanced at August. “This place is huge. How have I never been here?”

  He shrugged. “We were in talks with the schools to do tours here, but for some reason it never happened. Lost in the shuffle, maybe.”

  Sin shook his head. “Is this really the entire history of the North Pole?”

  August smiled. “As much as anything can be entire, yes. The green books on the shelves contain every edition of the Post. The red books contain the census reports. The blue books are birth, death, and marriage records. The white books are specific to the royal family.”

  “And the glass cases?” I asked.

  “Those contain special items such as coronation announcements, royal decrees and invitations, letters of note written to the editor, some first-edition books, rare photographs taken by staff photographers, things of that nature.”

  “I see.” I took a quick look around. “So where would we look for information about Dora?”

  “I’ve taken the liberty of pulling some of the census records that would mention her, as well as the books that contain the records of her birth, her marriage, and her husband’s death. I’m also in the middle of a search for any past articles that mention her.”

  Sin’s brows lifted. “That’s a lot. But could you add a search for articles that mention her husband too?”

  “I can,” August said.

  “Good thinking, Sin. And I guess while he does that, we need to start reading.”

  But Dora was a clean slate. A clean, boring slate. Just like with the file that Mamie had given me on her, nothing August provided led us any closer to proving her involvement in the Tinkers’ Tourney mess.

  And trust me, we’d looked.

  My eyes were watering, and the smell of newsprint was giving me a headache. “I can’t look at another page.”

  Sin glanced up from the census he was studying and yawned. “I have to agree with you. This is making my brain hurt.”

  I stretched my arm out on the table, then laid my head on it and looked at him. “Right? I know more about Dora Frigit than I ever thought possible, and yet, I’ve learned nothing that means anything to this case.”

  “Same.” He sighed, leaning back in his chair to stretch. “How long have we been at this?”

  I checked my watch. “Son of a nutcracker. Almost three hours.”

  Sin’s eyes widened in shocked disbelief. “Yikes. August has been really helpful, though.”

  “Very.” I sat up as the man himself came down one of the aisles toward us, more books in his arms.

  He settled them onto the table where we were working. “I found two more articles about her husband and one about her parents, but I doubt they’ll be much help.”

  I smiled weakly. I didn’t have it in me to read one more word. “August, we’re going to call it a night. You’ve provided us with more information than I thought possible, but none of it is helping us with our investigation.”

  Crestfallen, he gathered the books back into his arms. “I’m sorry, Princess Jayne. I really thought I could help…”

  “You did. You’re an amazing resource. I can’t thank you enough for your time and effort here. The fact that it wasn’t the information we needed isn’t your fault. And now, it’s time for all of us to go home.” I got to my feet, a little stiff from sitting for so long. I smiled. “Why don’t you let us help you put all of these books back?”

  “Oh, no. That’s not necessary.” His smile broadened. “I have interns who can do that in the morning.”

  Sin laughed. “Perfect. Thanks again, August. We can see ourselves out.”

  “And have a good night. Oh, gorgeous flowers you sent to Mamie, by the way.”

  August went a little pink as Sin put his hand on the small of my back. Together, we walked through the quiet space without saying another word.

  When we got outside, he opened the crawler door for me, then leaned in after I was in my seat and kissed my temple. “Hungry, sweetheart? We missed dinner.”

  I nodded, smiling a little. A faint aurora borealis glowed in the dark sky behind him. It was another beautiful North Pole night. “I could eat.”

  “Good. We need a break. We need
to do something fun and not related to Dora or tinkers or chickens. Where do you want to go?”

  “Don’t you think we should check in with my dad? See if the constable found anything?”

  “Mamie knew where we were. If something had come up, she’d have tracked us down.”

  I blew out a discouraged breath. “Yeah, you’re right.”

  He closed the door, walked around and got in behind the wheel. “I know you’re frustrated. I am too. But we’re doing everything we can.”

  I stared at him, a thought uncurling in my head like a strand of ice vapor. “Maybe we aren’t.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “If there’s no news from the constable, that must mean Dora went home and stayed there, right?”

  “Seems like a reasonable assumption. Most people are probably in bed by now, I’m guessing. Why should she be any different?”

  “Then now would be the perfect time to inspect her work space just like we did with Stanley and Terrance. I mean, why not? We looked through theirs. We should look through hers. Especially because we already know she’s involved in this somehow.”

  I could tell by the slight bend of his mouth that he was in. He cranked the crawler’s engine. “Buckle up.”

  He got us to the factory in a few minutes, and in a few minutes more, we were in the elevator headed to the tinkers’ floor.

  “The place is a lot calmer at night, huh?” He looked through the glass elevator wall at the factory floor. A smattering of elves worked diligently at their stations, crafting the toys that would brighten millions of children’s lives on Christmas morning.

  “The night shift is a quieter group. Smaller too. Although in another week or so, the night shift will increase to the same numbers as the day shift. Christmas production schedule.”

  He kept watching. “This place is fascinating.”

  The elevator stopped at the tinkers’ floor, our badges getting us access once again. “I’m glad you think so.”

  We stepped out, and I groaned as I realized I’d forgotten a very important detail. “Snowballs. I can’t remember the number of her workshop. I know we were just up here, but I was so fixated on watching that the number slipped my mind.”

  “Forty-six,” Sin said. He was grinning like he was rather pleased with himself. And he was right to be.

  “You have a better memory than I do.”

  He laughed softly. “Not really. It was in an article I read about her husband.”

  “I guess August really did help us. And good on you for paying attention.” I kissed him. He deserved it. And so did I. “Let’s go.”

  The inside of Dora’s lab was nothing like Terrance’s or Stanley’s work spaces. It was neat, but not obsessively so. There were no labels on things, and there were a few stacks of papers. Small ones. It didn’t have the energy of either of their spaces either.

  It seemed rather…sedate. A lot like the life she lived.

  The only thing that really stood out was the framed photo of her husband, Earl Frigit. He was a kind-faced man with a large nose and a slightly receding hairline. There was warmth in his eyes, and I wondered if he’d been looking at Dora when the photo had been taken.

  A small spotlight shone on the photo, and the frame was draped in black crepe. A shelf had been installed under it and on that shelf were a few candles, another smaller photo of Dora and Earl together in front of a fireplace, and a single red silk rose.

  It was sad and sweet and made me hurt for Dora. “She’s not over him.”

  Sin shook his head. “She might never be. He’s been gone for nearly six years.”

  “They looked so happy in their wedding picture in the Post.” It was odd to stand in Dora’s space knowing so much about her and yet not really knowing her at all. I suddenly wanted to be out of there as quickly as I could. “Okay, let’s do this and then go eat.”

  “You got it.”

  I went to the cabinet to search like I had in Terrance’s and Stanley’s, while Sin did the shelves. I opened the doors, not sure what to expect. And found a red velvet box. “Hey, look. Another memo box.”

  Sin came over to stand beside me. “I realize all the tinkers use them, but it’s interesting that she’s got one just like Stanley did.”

  I picked it up and gave it a gentle shake. “There’s something in it too.”

  “Work your magic and pick that lock.”

  “I don’t have to.” I opened the lid. “It’s not locked.”

  Inside was a crisp sheet of folded white paper. Not the cream-colored stuff the tinkers used. “Interesting.”

  I unfolded it so Sin could see it too. It took only a few lines of reading to know we’d found something worthwhile.

  My dearest Dora,

  I hope you are not suffering too much in the wake of my demise. I miss you terribly, sweetheart, but know that we will be together again someday. Until then, I want only the best for you, which is why I am sending you this note and this idea.

  The idea is for a machine that produces adhesive glitter sheets. Just like the sticker machine we created the year before I died, except with glitter. I think it’ll be a big hit. And it should win you a place in the tourney.

  Be well, my love.

  Earl

  We stared at the paper for a few seconds longer.

  Then Sin cleared his throat. “That’s not weird at all.”

  “Babe. That is super weird.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  I snorted. “I know.”

  We went back to staring at the paper.

  I shook my head. “How does this happen? When did this happen? He’s been gone for almost six years. He couldn’t have just sent this, but she only entered the Glitterskins in this year’s competition. Or did it take her that long to produce a working prototype? I have so many questions.”

  “Me too. And the only one who can give us answers is Dora. We need to talk to her. The sooner the better.”

  “Actually, I think we should talk to Mamie. Ask her about the paper this note is written on, just like we did with the others. Get a little info, then go talk to Dora.”

  “Solid plan. Do you know where Mamie lives?”

  “I do.” My stomach growled. Loudly. Like I’d swallowed a yeti.

  Sin chuckled. “Okay, listen, it’s late. You’re hungry. This can wait until the morning. No one’s going anywhere, anyway, right? Let’s get you something to eat. What’s still open at this hour?”

  I was hungry. Starving, really. And he was right that no one, Dora or otherwise, was going anywhere. “The cafeteria is.”

  “Perfect.” He smiled. “Just one request. Can we take the slide?”

  I laughed. “Yes. We just have to go down one floor for the nearest one. But what are we going to do with this letter? We can’t leave it here if we want Mamie to look at the paper.”

  “I’ll put it in my jacket pocket.”

  I folded it in half again and gave it over.

  He tucked it away and took my hand. “Lead the way.”

  We took the elevator to the floor below, then the slide to the cafeteria. It had been a long time since my backside had been on one of those, and I’d forgotten how fun it was. Especially from so many floors up.

  Sin was still laughing as we walked into the cafeteria. “I really have to do that again before we go home.”

  I giggled a little. “Your hair is all messed up from the wind.”

  He finger-combed it back into place. “Better?”

  “Gorgeous as always.”

  He snaked his arm around my waist, smiling and giving me a quick peck on the cheek. “Let’s see what’s on the menu.”

  We glanced at the specials board and I read them off. “Stuffed pork chops, fish and chips, and pot roast. Plus navy bean is the soup of the day.”

  “Fish and chips.”

  I nodded. “Same. Plus a big slice of that chocolate peanut butter pie.”

  “I’m going with the caramelized pear cobbl
er with ginger ice cream.”

  “Can I have a bite?”

  “I’d be worried if you didn’t want one.”

  We got in line, got our food, talked to a few folks, but were left alone to eat. Some of that might have been that there weren’t many people in there. Some of it might have been that we sat in my uncle’s booth, next to each other. I had no doubt we were giving off a “privacy please” vibe.

  For the first few minutes, we were quiet. Too busy eating. But as the edge of our hunger wore off, the conversation started back up.

  “Something’s just occurred to me,” Sin said.

  “What’s that?” I dipped a french fry in tartar sauce.

  “This note from beyond the grave…you don’t think it’s part of some elaborate scheme to blame me again, do you? I mean, Earl’s dead and…” He shrugged.

  “The death angle. Right.” I thought about that. “I don’t think so. At least, I hope not. We’ll know more soon enough.”

  “Do you think Earl really could have arranged to send her a note after he died?”

  “Sure. From what I learned tonight, he had a rare strain of hypothermia that causes a winter elf not to be able to control their body temperature. It’s not always terminal, but he could have written that and left it with a friend to send in case he didn’t make it.”

  “You still don’t sound convinced.”

  “That note is so specific. It feels obvious. Like someone planted that note to give her that idea. They wanted her in the competition.”

  “Why?”

  “Could be a couple of reasons. Maybe a friend knew how down she was and wanted to give her something else to focus on.” I ate another fry. “Maybe they thought a note from Earl would cheer her up. Especially one with a new toy idea in it.”

  Sin nodded. “Or maybe someone really wanted her in the competition.”

  “That too.” I reached for my dessert. “We really need to talk to Dora first thing in the morning.”

  Sin’s fork edged closer to my pie. “You still want to see Mamie about the paper the note is written on?”

  “Yes. Mamie, then Dora.” I gave him a stern look as his fork breached the edge of my plate. “I thought you were all about that pear cobbler?”