Wreck The Halls

by Jeff Shelby

  Jake sat down in one of the chairs at the table. “Is this where you tell me you're going to find out what happened so Moose River can have its Christmas festival?”

  “Probably,” I admitted.

  “Even if that ruffles some feathers?”

  “I've ruffled plenty of feathers in this town before. It won't be the last.”

  “So I shouldn't bother pointing out all of the reasons why this is a bad idea?”

  I smiled. “Oh, you can point them out.”

  “But you won't listen?”

  “That's a distinct possibility.”

  He sighed. “Then I'm not wasting my time.”

  I patted his shoulder. “My husband is learning.”

  “Your husband just knows an uphill battle when he sees one,” he said, putting his hand over mine. “But don't call me on Christmas to bail you out of jail. I'll be opening presents with the kids. With or without you.”

  TWELVE

  “I need to go to Sephora. And the bookstore,” Emily said. “And I have a gift card for Starbucks.”

  It was the next morning, and myself and, with the snow finally over and the roads clear, I’d decided to take the three girls to Maple Pond to do a little shopping at the mall. Will and Jake passed, as their method of Christmas shopping consisted of using the Internet to have things delivered to the house. So the girls and I headed out after breakfast and Emily was now listing off where she needed to go as we walked through the entrance to the mall.

  “I don't want to go to any of those places,” Grace said.

  “I have a Starbucks card, too,” Sophie said.

  Grace tugged on her arm. “Will you buy me something to drink? One of those things with whipped cream?”

  “Yeah, sure.”

  “I need a little time on my own,” I told them. “So I can do some shopping without your eyes on me.”

  Emily turned to the other two. “I'm in charge then. You have to listen to me.”

  Sophie shrugged. “Okay.”

  Grace, however, was frowning. “Not if you tell us to do something dumb we don't.”

  “Mom,” Emily said. “Tell her.”

  “You are not a drill sergeant,” I reminded her. Then I looked at the other two. “Emily will know when and where to meet up, so when she says it's time to go, it's time to go.”

  “What if we wanna go in stores she doesn't want to go in?” Grace said, ferreting out potential sources of conflict.

  “You'll be able to work it out,” I said. “You don't have to all go in the same stores. Just stay together.”

  Grace grabbed Sophie's arm. “Come on. Let's go to Starbucks.”

  “Not first!” Emily said, chasing after them.

  I shook my head and hoped mall security would not page me anytime soon.

  An hour later, I had multiple bags and was considering texting them to see where they were at with their shopping and to see if they were interested in lunch yet when I saw a familiar face leave the Apple Store.

  Ava Bradshaw had multiple bags hooked over her arms and she looked like she'd just stepped out of a winter fashion shoot. A scarf wrapped around her expensive-looking coat. Not a hair out of place. High heels that would've looked out of place in the mall except they were on her feet.

  I hesitated before deciding to move into her line of sight. She smiled politely, then realized it was me.

  “Oh, Daisy,” she said. “Good morning.”

  “I thought that was you,” I said. I gestured at her bags. “You've been busy.”

  She eyed her own bags. “I suppose I have. With still plenty more to do, I'm afraid.”

  “I'm always out until the last minute,” I told her.

  She smiled.

  “I saw your son yesterday,” I said. “At the diner. I was picking up dinner.”

  “Oh? Yes, he's there several nights a week now.”

  We stood there awkwardly for a moment, Christmas carols playing over the mall speakers.

  “I didn't get to say this when I saw you in the coffee shop, but I just wanted to tell you I was sorry about what happened with the Christmas committee,” I finally said.

  “Ah,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “Well, thank you. I appreciate that very much.”

  “I, uh, saw the video.”

  “The video?”

  “Of the meeting,” I explained. “It was on social media and I ran across it.”

  She made a noncommittal noise.

  “You were understandably very angry,” I said.

  “I had every right to be,” she said. “I had no idea that they were...looking to make a change. I wouldn't have devoted nearly the amount of time I did if I had. And look what's happened now that I'm not in charge.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “It's not great.”

  “Maybe they'll learn their lesson.”

  “Their lesson?”

  She shrugged. “That what comes around goes around.”

  There were a lot of possible meanings in that statement, but I was trying not to infer things that weren't there.

  “Ava, are you happy that the decorations have been stolen?” I asked. “That Santa has gone missing and that the entire festival is in jeopardy?”

  “Happy?” She thought for a moment. “I'm not sure that's the right word for it.”

  “What is then?”

  “I'm not sure there is one,” she said. “I'm not in any way unhappy, though, that Oliver's first run at this is turning into a complete failure.”

  “Yes, I gathered that.”

  “It's what he deserves,” she said, leaning just a fraction closer to me. “He embarrassed me, and he took away something incredibly important to me simply because he wanted to. He can rot for all I care. Rot.”

  “Was there...some history between you two?” I asked.

  “Not that I was aware of,” she said. “It just happens that he's apparently a power-hungry little monster who somehow convinced people he needed to be in charge.”

  “You don't think there was another reason?”

  “What reason could there be?”

  “When he came into the station, he said that the committee just thought that a fresh voice was needed,” I told her. “That they were just trying to keep things…fresh. I didn't get the sense it was personal.”

  “No, I'm sure you didn't because I'm sure he didn't mention it,” she said. “Look, I've run the committee for years and I can do it in my sleep. But it's not like we did the same thing year after year. I made sure of that. So whatever he said to you?” She shook her head. “It was a lie and an excuse and he can rot for what he did. And I don't care if the whole town suffers for it.”

  “I'm not sure...that's entirely fair,” I said. “The town looks forward to this event every year. It's the biggest community event we put on. It makes money for businesses. People come from all over the state.”

  “Then the town should've provided a little more oversight,” she said, snapping off her words. “They should've made sure that I'd be able to run it until I didn't want to. Because now?” She smiled. “Now they are stuck with that little curmudgeon.”

  I’d had sympathy for her at the start of our conversation. When I'd spoken with Howie, I truly felt badly for what happened. I didn't like to see anyone's feelings hurt. But her tone now was so harsh, so vindictive, so selfish, that is was hard to feel any type of empathy for her.

  “Let me ask you a question,” I said.

  Ava frowned. “Daisy, I really need to get going.”

  “Did you have anything to do with the missing decorations?”

  She stared at me. “What?”

  “Did you take them?” I asked. “Did you steal Santa? The sleigh?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How dare you.”

  “I think it's a fair question, given how angry you are over all of this,” I told her. “You don't care about the town. You just made that perfectly clear. And you seem bent on getting revenge on Oliver. I'm not sure there would be a better way t
o do that than by sabotaging the entire festival.” I paused. “So I think it's a very fair question.”

  She started to say something, then stopped. She readjusted all of her bags, trying to steady herself. Then she looked at me again.

  “I may be angry and I may have it out for Oliver, but I've had nothing to do with whatever is going on with the decorations,” she said. “Those aren't mine, and I have no right to them, no matter if I'm the one who knows best what to do with them. I haven't taken a thing. Am I upset about that weasel Oliver being the face of all of this? Not in the least.” She stared at me. “But I haven't taken a thing and I'm offended by the question.” She looked me up and down, like she couldn't believe she was having to waste her time talking to me. “Goodbye, Daisy.”

  She stalked off, the bags swinging from her arms.

  THIRTEEN

  “I think I got something for everyone,” Emily announced.

  We'd had lunch, then gotten in the car to head home.

  “Well, you went in every store,” Grace shouted from the back of the van.

  “You did go in a lot of stores,” Sophie said.

  Emily ignored them. “So I think I'll only need to go shopping one more time,” she told me as she gazed out the windshield.

  “So you didn't get something for everyone then?” I asked.

  “Well, no. I did, but I still have things to get.”

  “She wouldn't let me go in the candy store, Mom,” Grace complained.

  “Because I knew you'd spend all of your money!” Emily said, twisting in her seat. “And then you wouldn't have had any money for presents.”

  “I would not have!”

  Emily turned back around. “She would have.”

  I glanced in the rearview mirror. “Sophie, how did you do?”

  “I did okay,” she said. “I've got a couple more things to get and I'm making a couple of things that I should be able to finish tonight.”

  “I want to make things!” Grace said.

  “You told me you didn't,” I said, shifting my mirrored gazed from Sophie to Grace.

  “Now I do.”

  I shook my head. “Well, then you better get on it when we get home. Not a whole lot of time left.”

  She grumbled something and then she and Sophie started whispering together, plotting.

  “I saw you talking to that lady,” Emily said. “Ms. Bradshaw?”

  “You saw that?” I wondered if she’d also heard what we were talking about.

  “We were walking by,” she said. “She looked mad so I didn't come over.”

  “She was mad,” I said. “Do you know her son? Howie?”

  “Yeah, he works at Big Mama's,” she answered. “He's fine.”

  “Fine?”

  “I don't know.” She shrugged. “He shows up on time, at least when I’ve been there. He works. He doesn't talk a lot. He was hired right before I left for school, so I don't really know him. He doesn't seem to do social media stuff.”

  “You've stalked him?” I asked.

  “I've looked.”

  I chuckled. She was a very stealth user of social media and nearly the first thing she did with new people that she met was hunt them down on the different platforms to see what they were doing. I wasn't surprised at all that she'd gone looking for Howie.

  “Why was she so mad at you?” Emily asked.

  “I asked her a question she didn't like.”

  “What was the question?”

  “If she took the town's Christmas decorations.”

  “Why would she have done that?”

  “It's…complicated.” I didn’t feel like launching into an explainer about the dynamics between the members of the committee and the arguments for and against ousting Ava.

  “I saw that video,” Emily said. “Where she got all mad after they took her job away.”

  I should have guessed. If it was on social media, Em probably knew about it. “Yes, she was pretty mad then, too.

  “I don't blame her,” she said. “That was sort of mean.”

  “We don't know everything involved,” I reminded her. “There may be more going on than what we know.”

  “I guess,” she said. “It just seemed mean. And she seemed like she wanted to punch Mr. Berg when she found out she was out of a job.”

  I nodded. “She did. That was sort of what I was asking about. But she said she had nothing to do with any of it.”

  “Do you believe her?”

  The light in front of us turned red and I coasted to a stop, the tires grinding a little on the thick layer of sand the snow plows had deposited over the course of the storm. “I'm not sure.”

  I really wasn't sure. Her denial had been immediate and firm. Her anger had flared. She hadn't said anything that led me to believe she was lying to me, but her anger over the whole situation was undeniable.

  I was thinking about that when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I felt around for it and pulled it out. Will's name was on the screen.

  “You shouldn't be messing with your phone while you're driving,” Emily said.

  “I'm not driving,” I told her. “We're at a red light. And it's Will.” I tapped the screen. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Are you coming home soon?”

  “We're on our way now. Why?”

  “Okay. You should go by the antique store on your way home.”

  “The antique store? On Main?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why?”

  He laughed. “Just go by. You'll see.”

  FOURTEEN

  “Why aren't we going home?” Emily asked when I turned in the direction away from our house on Main.

  “Because I want to go see something.”

  “See what?”

  Her guess was as good as mine.

  “We'll see in a minute.”

  I could see the crowd on the sidewalk in front of Just Like New. The store itself was just down the block from the police station, on the other side of Big Mama's. I didn't frequent it very often, but I'd been inside a handful of times.

  There were maybe thirty people crowded around the front window of the store. As we crept closer, I saw why.

  The window was filled with all of the missing wreaths.

  They were stacked neatly in upright rows, almost like tires, filling the entire front window. The crowd was gawking and staring. Officer Ted stood off to the side, talking with Nora Berg, Oliver's ex-wife.

  Who just happened to own the store.

  I pulled the van into an empty parking stall, but kept it running. “I'll be right back.”

  “Mom, I really need to get home,” Emily objected.

  “I'll just be a minute,” I said, closing the door before she could make me feel guilty for stopping.

  I crossed the street and made a beeline for Ted and Nora. Ted was scribbling on a small notepad. Nora was in tears, her arms folded across her body, shaking her head.

  “You have to believe me,” she said. “They aren't mine.”

  “Well, I know that, Nora,” he said, his words coming out in icy breaths. “They belong to the town.”

  “You know what I mean!” she cried. “I didn't take them.”

  Ted started to say something, then realized I was standing there. “Oh, Daisy. Hey there.”

  “Hi,” I said. “We were on our way home and saw the crowd. What's going on?”

  “What's going on is that someone broke into my store and put those wreaths there!” she said, pointing at the window. “And it was probably my idiot ex-husband!”

  Nora was bundled up in a green coat with a hood lined with thick fake fur. At least I thought it as fake. Her round face was pink from the cold, and maybe from anxiety, too. She was short and wide, like a park bench, and her fur-lined boots, combined with the hood on her jacket, reminded me of an Eskimo outfit.

  “We don't know anything yet.” Ted glanced at me. “Nothing's been established.”

  “Someone broke in to the store?” I asked.


  Nora bit her lip.

  “Well, we haven't been able to find evidence of that yet,” Ted said. “Nora said she showed up to open up the shop today and the wreaths were already there.”

  “They were!” she said, looking first at him, then me. “They were already there. Someone must've broken in.”

  Ted held out a hand. “I know, I know, Nora. We just need to slow down to get all of the details right so we can figure out what happened.”

  “You need to go talk to Oliver!” she growled.

  I looked at Ted, confused, before darting a glance at Nora. “You're suggesting Oliver did this?”

  Her expression hardened. “That's right I am!”

  “But...why would he have done this?” I said. “If anything, he would've been happy to find the wreaths and have them reinstalled on the street lamps.”

  “Daisy, our divorce was very contentious,” she said. “Very. Anything he could do to make me look bad, I guarantee you he'd do it.”

  “But...I don't think he would've stolen the wreaths himself,” I said. “Just to put them in your storefront. Everyone is upset with him because of what's happened. I'm not sure I see what you're getting at.”

  Her mouth was set in a firm, angry line. She wasn't thinking straight.

  “Nora, I checked both the front and the back door,” Ted said. “The locks weren't tampered with. They are both intact. I didn't see a broken window or any other forced access to the store. Does anyone else have a key?”

  She hesitated, then shook her head. “No. It's my store. I'm the only one with the key.”

  Ted nodded and scribbled on his pad.

  “You haven't seen the wreaths before now?” I asked.

  “Well, I've seen them on the light poles,” she snarled. “Of course I've seen them. But if you're asking if I've seen then in my store, then no. I have not.”

  “Do you know anyone who had seen them?” I asked.

  “The wreaths?”

  “Yes.”

  Her jaw shivered. “If you're suggesting—”

  “Hold on, Nora,” Ted said. “Daisy's not suggesting anything.”

  “—that I took those wreaths, you are insane,” she snapped. “I would never do such a thing!”