Wreck The Halls

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Wreck The Halls Page 6

by Jeff Shelby


  “Yes, she would,” a voice said from behind us.

  I turned to see Oliver crossing the street.

  “Oh, good lord,” Ted muttered.

  “She absolutely would've stolen those wreaths to get back at me!” he said as he hopped up onto the sidewalk. “Just can't resist twisting the knife can you, Nora?”

  “What on earth are you talking about?” she said. “I would do no such thing.”

  “Oh, there are a lot of things you said you wouldn't do,” he shot back. “But those were lies, too.”

  “Oliver, I'm going to ask you to step away for a moment,” Ted said, positioning himself between Oliver and his ex-wife. “I'll be with you in just a moment.”

  “Do you have Santa, too?” Oliver asked. He got up on his tiptoes to look at Nora over Ted's shoulder. “Give me Santa!”

  Ted rolled his eyes, took Oliver by the arm, and walked him away from the store.

  Nora was dabbing at her eyes. “That man.”

  “I'm sorry,” I said, unsure what else to say.

  She looked at me. “I do not have Santa, either. Whoever would take Santa doesn't have a heart. I may have done some things I'm not proud of, but I'd never do that.” She glanced at the window. “And I didn't steal the wreaths, either.”

  I took another good look at the window. The wreaths had been very carefully positioned, three stacks of ten. The red bows on each were turned to the window, lined up perfectly. Someone had wanted to make sure that the wreaths were seen and unmistakable for what they were.

  “No one else has access to your store?” I asked. “An old employee, maybe? Another family member?”

  She shook her head. “No. No one. I only have two keys. One I keep on my car keys and the other is a spare I keep in my purse, just in case. I checked. I have both of them.”

  That didn't make much sense, especially if Ted hadn't found any signs of forced entry.

  “I know he's angry, but he has to know I'd never do this,” Nora said, glancing down the walk toward Ted and Nora. “I've...I've done some things I'm not terribly proud of and I know he is still upset about the divorce. But he has to know I wouldn't do this. Not ever.”

  I nodded slowly.

  “And even if I had, why on earth would I have put them in my own store window?” she asked, turning to look at her store. “Why would I tell everyone I had done it?”

  I looked at the window again and I had to agree.

  “I don't think you would've,” I said. “I don't think you would've.”

  FIFTEEN

  Ted finished getting his statement from Nora, the crowd dispersed, and I took the girls home. I took my purchases inside, stepped into my snow boots, and headed back for a couple of hours at the station desk.

  Ted was sitting there when I walked in. “You're back.”

  I yanked my hat off and stomped my boots on the mat. “Yeah, I had a little bit to do.”

  He stood up. “Sorry. Was too lazy to walk back to my own computer. I was a little worn out when I got back and I just sat in your chair and started working.”

  “It's not my chair,” I said. “You don't have to get up.”

  He waved a hand in the air. “Your seat, your desk.”

  I went around and sat down. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

  He plopped down in one of the waiting chairs. “Priscilla's not here. She's out at some meeting.”

  “Of course.”

  He was quiet for a minute. “I found something.”

  “Found something?”

  He made a face and nodded. “I got the statement from Nora. Not much there. I double-checked the doors and windows after you left. Didn't find a darn thing. Finally managed to chase Oliver off. I sat with Nora for a few minutes, just getting her to talk a little more. She was able to account for most of her time the last few days and I think it checks out.”

  “So you don't think she did it?” I asked.

  He crossed his legs. “Well, I didn't think she'd be crazy enough to put the wreaths in her own window, then deny she'd done it in the first place. But I just wanted to make sure. I just don't see it.”

  That was typical of Ted. He was a very good policeman. He came across as friendly and unthreatening, but he knew his job and he did it very well. I wasn't surprised at all that he'd seen multiple reasons why Nora wasn't a real suspect.

  “But I came back here and just started plugging away,” he said. “Didn't really find much of anything about Nora or Oliver. I do know the divorce was kind of ugly, but I knew that beforehand. But a lot of divorces are ugly, so that doesn't really make them unusual.”

  “Sure.”

  He took a deep breath. “I did find something else, though.”

  I waited.

  “I just started running everyone's records,” he explained. “That's something I'll normally do when I'm looking at things. Just see if anyone has a criminal record or whatnot. I don't always have to do it here in Moose River because I know most everyone and if they've ever been in trouble, I'm usually aware of it.” He smiled. “Small town and all that.”

  I smiled back. “Right.”

  “But something popped up that I wasn't aware of.”

  “With Nora?”

  “No.”

  “With Oliver then.”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “I'm running out of names here, Ted.”

  He smiled again. “Right, sorry. Something popped up on Ava Bradshaw.”

  That surprised me. “Really? I just ran into her at the mall in Maple Pond earlier. She was adamant that she had nothing to do with any of the thefts.”

  “Well, I'm not saying this proves anything,” he said. “I just thought it was interesting.”

  “Okay. What is it?”

  He shifted in the chair. “She has a prior. For theft.”

  “Ava does?”

  He nodded. “Yes, ma'am. Was a number of years back, but it was right there on her record in the computer. And it was theft.”

  “Wow,” I said. “What did she steal?”

  “A turkey.”

  “A turkey?”

  He nodded again. “Yep. A stuffed turkey.”

  “I'm assuming you don't mean the kind you can eat.”

  “Ha. No. This was a giant stuffed turkey. Used for decoration.”

  Now that was most definitely interesting.

  “I read through the report,” Ted said. “It wasn't all that well-written, but from what I could gather, it was meant as some sort of a prank. She was working for a car dealership at the time and she took it from another car dealership. This happened down in the city. But it seems like the folks at the other dealership took it personally and seriously. They filed a complaint and she was charged with misdemeanor theft. There's some mention that she had a relationship with someone at the other dealership and that played a part. Her contention was that it was all a big misunderstanding.” He shrugged. “But she was charged and paid a fine.”

  I leaned back in my chair. I hated reading too much into people's pasts. Most of us had done things we weren't proud of in our younger days, things that were dumb and spontaneous and free of good judgment. But it was interesting to me that Ava had a history of stealing holiday decorations.

  “Now, I'm not saying this proves anything,” Ted said. “I just thought it was...worth taking note of. It doesn't explain anything about the wreaths showing up in Nora's store or how they got there. But it felt a little strange.”

  Strange, indeed.

  SIXTEEN

  It took me two hours to work through the paperwork on my desk and then I headed home.

  The snow had started to fall again and it was cold enough that it was clinging to everything. The plows were once again out in force, clearing the road and laying down salt and sand. The sidewalks that had been shoveled in the morning now looked like they hadn't been touched, and I was careful on my walk home.

  As I crossed the street to our house, I made out five bodies manning the shovels in
our driveway.

  “Are we almost done?” Emily asked. “I need to go check my phone.”

  “No,” Will answered. “The snow is still falling.”

  “Almost,” Jake said. “I wanna get as much cleared as possible since more's coming.”

  Sophie and Grace were pushing the doublewide shovel to the edge of the walk when they saw me. They both held up gloved hands. Their noses and cheeks glowed bright pink beneath their knitted beanies.

  “Hey,” Jake said, huffing and puffing as he shuffled over to me. “I was gonna come get you since it was getting bad out.”

  “I didn't mind the walk,” I told him. “And how did you get the whole crew out here?”

  “I turned off the Internet,” he said. “A lot easier to get their attention that way. How was work?”

  “Confusing as ever,” I told him.

  “I heard about the wreaths.”

  I watched as Emily half-heartedly pushed the shovel along the drive. “I think everyone has by now.”

  “No idea how it happened?”

  I shook my head. “None. And Ted doesn't know either.” I paused. “He did learn one thing, though.”

  “What's that?”

  “Ava Bradshaw once stole a turkey.”

  Jake glanced up from shoveling. “From the grocery store?”

  I explained it to him.

  He put the shovel back to the asphalt driveway. “Well, that's bizarre. Not sure it matters all that much, though.”

  “I know. Just thought it was goofy.”

  “Mom.” Emily heaved out a heavy sigh. “Can we be done now?”

  “This is fun!” Grace said, as she and Sophie worked the shovel back and forth across the apron.

  “We should build a snowman,” Sophie said.

  “Yeah!” Grace said. “And let's give him three eyes!”

  “Okay, whatever,” Emily said, rolling her eyes. “I don't have to stay out here for that, do I? Because I need—”

  A snowball disintegrated against her face, stopping her in mid-sentence.

  “Oops,” Will said. “Sorry.”

  His tone made it very clear that he was not sorry.

  Emily bent down, patted as much snow as she could into a ball, whirled, and fired. Will was too slow to move and the snow bomb caught him right in the back of the head.

  “Ha!” Emily yelled. “Jerk!”

  Will immediately went to his knees and began building up an arsenal. “You're dead.”

  Emily saw what was coming her way and immediately went to work on her own war chest.

  The two younger girls dropped the large shovel and started making competing piles of snowballs.

  “This isn't what I intended,” Jake said. His brow furrowed as he surveyed the scene unfolding before him. “I wanted the driveway cleared, not covered in more snow.”

  “You may have a problem then,” I told him. “They seem determined. And they probably need the exercise.”

  Will stood and fired the first salvo at his older sister, then took aim at the younger two. They screamed and ran for the garage, their hands each filled with snowballs. Emily pivoted and hurled two quick balls at him. He dodged the first, but took the second square on the chin.

  “Sucker!” she yelled.

  The two younger girls emerged on the other side of the garage and took dead aim at their brother, pelting with him with everything they had.

  “Three on one,” I said. “Seems fair.”

  “He did start it.”

  “True.”

  We watched as they went after one another, yelling and laughing and covered in snow. I knew we'd all be sick of the snow by February, but this was the part of winter I always enjoyed, when snow was still new and fun and not a hassle. Or, rather, not as big of a hassle.

  They all ended up in a circle firing at one another until their snowball supplies were depleted. Then Will said something to the three girls and they each went about creating more.

  Jake leaned on his shovel. “Round two, I guess.”

  “Round two. And, good. They'll be exhausted.”

  “I'm gonna make them shovel it up when they're done.”

  “I'll help them,” I said. “They're having fun.”

  They each had about ten balls built and stacked in front of them. Will said something to them again and they each picked up one.

  “This should be good,” Jake said.

  Will nodded. “On three.”

  They all looked at one another and nodded.

  “One, two, three.”

  All four of them pivoted and that was when I realized we'd miscalculated.

  They fired at us.

  Jake took two to the face and one whizzed past my ear, the other hitting me square in the chest.

  “We've been had,” Jake said, wiping snow from his nose and cheeks.

  The second wave arrived and all four of them were now laughing and yelling as we tried to duck behind the car for cover.

  “We need to make a run for the house,” I told him as two snowballs flew over the roof of the car.

  “Nonsense,” Jake said. “That's for cowards. Now we fight back.” He bent down and scooped up snow and started forming his weapons.

  “There are four of them,” I said. Two more snowballs hit the car.

  “But we're older and wiser,” he said. “Come on. You're always telling me we need to embrace winter more. This is war.” He picked up his snowballs, let out a banshee-like yell, and charged around the car, firing his snowballs. The kids all screamed and took off running.

  For an hour, I forgot all about the missing decorations and the accusations while we embraced winter and chased each other around in the snow.

  SEVENTEEN

  “Good morning, Daisy,” Oliver Berg said.

  It was the next day. We'd finished our snowball war—winners were never determined —went in for showers and dinner and ended up playing board games for the better part of the evening. I'd fallen asleep earlier than usual and, as a result, was up earlier than normal. After breakfast and a pot of coffee, I headed over to the station and Oliver showed up half an hour after I'd gotten there.

  “Good morning, Oliver,” I said. “How are you?”

  He was clutching his Russian hat in his hands. “Oh, well, you know. Not terrific.”

  I started to say something, but Priscilla came stomping down the hall and stopped abruptly at my desk. She looked at Oliver, then me, then Oliver again. “Morning, Oliver.” She handed me a manila folder. “I need these notes typed up by noon.”

  I took the folder. “Okay.”

  “I wanted to stop by and see if you'd learned anything,” Oliver said. “About the wreaths?”

  I looked at Priscilla, deferring to her.

  “No,” she said. “We haven't learned anything.”

  Oliver's shoulders slumped. “Oh. I see.”

  “And before you ask about everything else,” she continued. “Santa and all that other stuff. No, we don't know anything about that, either.”

  “Oh.”

  I thought her tone was out of line, but didn't say anything.

  “I'm afraid you're just going to have to plan around not having those things this year,” she said. She turned to me. “Noon. I'll need 'em back.”

  I waited until she’d gone back down the hall before I rolled my eyes.

  Oliver forced a smile. “Well, I guess that answers my questions.”

  “I'm sorry, Oliver,” I said. “I wish we had better answers for you.” I hesitated. “If it makes a difference, I really don't think Nora took the wreaths.”

  He sat down on the edge of the chair behind him. “I appreciate your saying that. I know I was pretty upset yesterday. And I understand it wouldn't have made a whole lot of sense for her to have put the wreaths in her window.”

  I was glad he'd been able to think it through and not just hang onto his anger.

  “But I'm still not convinced she isn't involved,” he said.

  So much
for thinking it through.

  “You still think she's responsible?” I asked.

  He nodded. “I think her involvement makes sense. I don't want to bore you with the details of our divorce, but we went through a pretty rough patch and it's still pretty rough. I know that she's secretly happy that this is happening while I'm in charge.”

  I wasn't sure he was right, but I didn't say anything.

  “But now I'm thinking it's not just her,” he said.

  “What do you mean?”

  He stared at the floor for a moment. “I think she's got some help. I think she and Bert are probably behind all of this.”

  “Bert?”

  He nodded slowly. “Peterson. Yeah. I'm pretty sure that the more I think about it, I think they might be in cahoots on this.”

  “In cahoots?” I said, using a phrase I wasn't sure I'd ever used before. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean that I think they both might be behind the thefts,” he clarified. “That they both have it out for me and they might have planned all of this together.”

  “I'm really not following you, Oliver,” I said.

  He stood up. “It's okay, Daisy. It's complicated, and I shouldn't unload all of this on you.”

  “You're talking about Bert because he lost his position as Santa Claus?” I asked, still trying to get a handle on what he was suggesting. “Because he was upset about that?”

  “Yes,” Oliver said, setting his hat on top of his head. “And no.”

  “I'm not understanding.”

  “It's complicated,” he said, shaking his head. “It's complicated.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “Better that I stop worrying about that and just get to the matter at hand.”

  “And what is that exactly?” I asked.

  He tugged on the hat. “Figuring out how to tell everyone the festival and parade are going to be canceled.”

  EIGHTEEN

  I finished my shift at the station, then walked home in the snow, grabbed the car keys and the girls, and headed out to the mall for one final gift-buying trip. There was more snow in the forecast and I didn't want them scrambling for last minute gifts if we got snowed in. This time, though, I had them make lists and a plan of attack so that we wouldn't spend the better part of the day there.

 

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