“Aren’t you so cute,” Emma cooed over a little princess who had stopped to dip into her witch’s cauldron for a packet of M&M’s. “Did your mommy make your costume?” she asked, smiling at the woman holding the princess’s hand. A potential fabric customer—she hoped she wasn’t salivating too obviously.
“Her grandma in Oregon made it,” said the woman. “I don’t have time to sew,” she added in a tone that implied sewing was only for people who didn’t have a life.
Before Emma could think of a reply, the princess and her mother the queen vanished. They were replaced by a group of sugar-buzzed superheroes. One of them vacuumed up Emma’s candy supply as though he were collecting food for his last meal. The others quickly followed suit. Neither of the two dads in charge of the group said anything. That was probably because they were too busy checking out a woman on the other side of the street in a Catwoman outfit to pay attention to what the kids were up to.
Oh, well, Emma decided. There was her good deed for the day. She wondered how Jamie was doing.
Valentine Square didn’t have the mob that the shop owners one street up were facing, but they were getting a steady trickle. Just enough to make Jamie feel guilty every time she considered taking her Tootsie Rolls and packing it in.
“Are we having fun yet?” called Roxy Reynolds from her post in front of the card shop. She stood chatting with her assistant and Monique, the owner of Whisper, the lingerie shop, who was wrapped up like a mummy. Monique could barely move, but Jamie was willing to bet she was at least warm.
“Oh, yeah,” Jamie called back.
“If you think this is fun, you’re whacked,” said Clarice, Jamie’s part-time help, as she refilled the bowl. She had dyed her hair orange in honor of the holiday and was all dolled up with fake blood, her face painted corpse white. “Okay, that’s the last of the candy. When it’s gone, you’re done. And speaking of done . . .”
“I know, I know,” said Jamie. “You can take off. Have fun in Seattle.”
Clarice grinned. “We will. Borg is sure to win the costume contest tonight. He’s going as a chick magnet, with a big, shiny red magnet around his neck. It even glows in the dark. So do other parts of him,” she added with a smirk.
“TMI,” said Jamie, rolling her eyes. “Get out of here already.”
Clarice skipped off like a giant kid. Come to think of it, at barely twenty, that was what she was.
Jamie couldn’t help smiling. Next to Christmas, this was the best night of the year for kids, both big and little. She used to love Halloween. She still did. It was the one night of the year when the monsters were pretend.
She greeted a well-rounded woman escorting two girls and a little boy wearing a Frankenstein mask who looked more like a beach ball with legs. All three kids carried king-sized pillowcases, which they had barely filled. She guessed they’d go on to raid Heart Lake Estates after doing downtown. Jamie offered her plate of fudge to the woman and the bowl of cheap candy to the kids. The beach ball dove right into the bowl.
The girls were no fools. They snatched the fudge. “That’s good,” said one, and helped herself to another piece.
“Don’t be a pig,” scolded the woman, who also took a second helping.
Hmmm. Oink, oink. But pigs made good customers. “If you think that’s good you’ll have to come by sometime and try my truffles,” Jamie said.
“Do you give samples?” asked Miz Piggy.
Jamie suspected this woman could easily sample her right out of business. “Sometimes,” she said evasively.
“I’ll have to come check them out,” the woman promised, and took a third piece of fudge. “Thanks.”
Maybe she should have just given the woman the whole plate and been done with it. Oh, well. What did she expect? She was offering free chocolate. Who could resist that?
A little ghost of wind swept under her gypsy skirt, raking her legs with icy fingers and making her shiver. If she’d known she was going to be so cold she’d have bought some long underwear. Thank God this ended at seven. She and Emma had a date with a bowl of candy corn, a scary movie (or so Emma claimed), and some drink called a Vampire’s Kiss that sounded like it involved enough alcohol to stock a liquor store. Maybe they should have had the alcohol before the Goblin Walk. It would have helped her stay warm. She sneaked a look at her watch. Six o’clock. An hour left to go. Ugh.
Next time she checked her watch she still had forty-five minutes left to stand out in the cold. Time wasn’t exactly flying. It wasn’t even marching. It was just strolling by, taunting, “Neener, neener,” with each icy breeze that tickled her skin. She was so not doing this again. She didn’t care if it was good for business. They didn’t get as many people down here anyway.
She looked across the way. Roxy and Monique were packing it in, turning tail on the approaching stream of trick-or-treaters and ducking into their shops. Jade Forrester, who owned Jade’s Jewels, hadn’t even bothered to show. That left only her, and she didn’t have the heart to close up. She sucked it up, pasted on a smile, and braced herself for the next wave that came at her in a wall of noise.
It was almost like some giant amoeba, she thought, just one big, noisy cloud of masks, robes, and reaching hands. The blob surrounded her. It took, squealed, and then moved off down the street, making her think of dragons parading through San Francisco’s Chinatown on Chinese New Year. Somewhere toward the end of the tail, however, she distinguished a sound that wasn’t happy. Crying.
She peered past a noisy clump of teenage boys trying to hide their age and size under bedsheets to see a wilted little fairy with chestnut curls dragging a plastic pumpkin full of candy and looking like she’d witnessed the end of the world.
Jamie left her candy bowl for the boys to raid and hurried to the little girl. “Sweetie, are you lost?” Of course she was. “Where’s your mommy?” Well, duh. Like the kid would know?
“I want my grandpa,” the child sobbed.
Lost children weren’t exactly Jamie’s specialty, but she did know enough to call the cops. “Here,” she said, putting a hand to the child’s back and propelling her toward the store. “Let’s go see if we can find him.”
The little girl moved right along with her, which was good in a way, because Jamie could get her to safety and hang on to her. But this kind of cooperation made her wonder if the little girl’s parents had ever warned her against talking to strangers. “What’s your name, sweetie?”
“M-M-Mandy,” the child sobbed. “I want my grandpa.”
“I know. We’re going to find him. What’s your grandpa’s name?”
“Grandpa.”
That narrows it down. Jamie unlocked the shop and brought Mandy the fairy inside, locking the door after them so no one would think she was open for business and come in. She quickly flipped on the light as Mandy’s crying had gotten louder the second they entered the dark shop. She settled the child at one of the bistro tables, saying, “Now, I’ll just get my phone and then we’ll call and tell the police where you are so your grandpa can find you. Okay?”
The child didn’t say anything, just slumped in her seat, clutched her pumpkin full of candy and cried.
This was like getting punked by gremlins. Jamie could barely take care of herself and now she had a lost child on her hands.
It’s okay, she assured herself. You’re in Heart Lake now. Call for help. She hurried to the back room and dug her cell phone out of her purse, calling over her shoulder, “Don’t worry, Mandy. It’ll be okay.” How long would it take for the cops to get here? What could she do in the meantime to keep Mandy the fairy from having a nervous breakdown? To keep herself from having one?
“Nine-one-one,” said an operator.
“I have a child,” Jamie blurted. “I mean I found a child. She’s lost and her name is Mandy. We’re at the Goblin Walk. Can you send someone to help?”
“Can you give me an address, ma’am?” asked the operator.
Oh, yeah, that. “I’m in Valentine
Square, in Heart Lake. The Chocolate Bar. How soon can someone get here?”
“Someone will be there in just a few minutes,” the operator assured her.
Just a few minutes felt like an eternity when you had a crying child on your hands. “I know,” Jamie said to Mandy. “Let’s have something to eat while we’re waiting for your grandpa. You want to come and choose a truffle?”
The crying downgraded to small sobs. Mandy slipped from her seat and walked tentatively over to the glass case where Jamie was standing.
Jamie knelt beside her. “We have a lot to choose from. Do you like chocolate?”
Mandy nodded solemnly, looking at her with big, brown eyes.
“Caramel. Do you like caramel?”
Another nod. The sobs were dying down, thank God.
“How about a chocolate caramel then?” Jamie suggested. She slipped around back of the counter, returning with a chocolate caramel for each of them. Mandy wasn’t the only one who needed chocolate. “There you go.” She handed it over and the child took it and studied it. Maybe she’d been told not to take candy from strangers. Jamie took a bite of hers to prove it wasn’t poisoned. “Mmm, good.” Except maybe she shouldn’t be giving candy to Mandy the fairy.
Before she could suggest Mandy wait until her grandpa showed up, the child popped the entire goody into her mouth. In less than a second she was drooling chocolate. But she also wasn’t crying.
Jamie felt pleased with herself. “Good stuff, huh?”
Mandy nodded and looked at her with a “what’s next” expression.
Now what? “Are you thirsty? Would you like a drink of water?”
Mandy nodded.
So they had a drink of water. Now what? Where the hell were the cops?
“I’m a fairy,” Mandy announced.
Okay, she was feeling better. “You’re a very pretty fairy,” said Jamie. Why on earth wasn’t your mom watching you? “Do you know your address?”
“One-two-three Willow Road,” said the child.
“Good for you,” Jamie approved. At least they’d have some information to give the police. It would be enough to match Mandy the Fairy with her mother.
A sudden banging on the shop door made Jamie jump. The cops. Thank God.
But it wasn’t cops. It was one cop. The cop, and he had people with him—a paunchy sixty-something man with shortly cropped gray hair and a princess a little older than the fairy, but with the same big eyes and brown curls.
As soon as Jamie opened the door, the princess pointed at Mandy and cried, “There she is!”
“Mandy. Thank God,” breathed the cop. He rushed to her, arms wide open. “Come here, baby!”
“Daddy!” The child jumped into his arms and he swept her up. “I had chocolate,” she told him.
“I can see that,” he said, taking a wipe at her chin, which looked like she’d painted it with chocolate syrup.
The older man fell onto the nearest chair. “I think I’ve aged twenty years.”
“You were supposed to hold Grandpa’s hand,” scolded the princess. “Daddy was mad.”
“Not at you, baby,” said the cop. He walked over to Jamie, the other child tagging along at his side. Jamie was sure the floor was shaking with every heavy footfall. She could feel her heart rate stepping up. He looked like a super-sized Superman in a police uniform. “Thanks for keeping my daughter safe. We owe you.”
“For being a good citizen? No you don’t.”
She only came up to his shoulder. With those big hands of his he could crush her head like a walnut. He smelled like the outdoors and aftershave, but something else, too. Could you smell testosterone? Hic. Oh, great. Not again.
“Well, you saved the day big-time,” he said.
“That’s for sure,” said the older man from his chair. “My God, I’ve never been so scared in my life. One minute I had her and the next I didn’t.”
“By the way, I’m Josh Armstrong,” said the cop, holding out a hand.
She took it and hers was immediately swallowed. But it was a gentle swallowing, and that was a surprise. “I’m . . . I guess you know.” She tried to hold in a hiccup and he tried not to smile.
“Can we go get more candy now?” asked the other child.
“No,” said her father firmly. “We’re done for the night and Dad’s got to get back to work.”
“And Grandpa’s pooped,” added the older man, pushing off from his chair.
“But we didn’t go to the toy store,” the princess protested, her voice full of disappointment.
“We’re done,” said her father. “Anyway, it’s after seven. The Goblin Walk is over.”
After seven already? Wow. Time flew when you were . . . stressed.
“Your poor old gramps can’t take any more adventure tonight, Lissa girl,” said the older man.
“Would you like to take a truffle with you?” Jamie offered. That pulled the princess immediately out of her pout. “Okay.”
“Come on over and look and see what you’d like,” Jamie said, and stepped behind the counter.
Lissa the princess stood in front of the case, studying everything.
“Do you like coconut?” asked Jamie.
Lissa nodded, her eyes sparkling. “I love coconut.”
“And white chocolate?”
Lissa’s brows furrowed as she thought about it. “I don’t know. But it sounds good,” she added.
“Well,” Jamie said, cutting off a piece of white chocolate coconut fudge laced with lemon. “Let’s see if it’s as good as it sounds.” She handed it over to Lissa, who took a delicate bite. She smiled and nodded enthusiastically. “It’s good.”
Jamie smiled back. “I’m glad.”
“What’s your name?” asked Lissa.
“Jamie.”
“I’m Lissa. I’m nine. My sister’s only six. She’s a baby.”
“Am not,” shot Mandy from her father’s arms.
“Are, too,” said Lissa. “You got lost.”
That started Mandy crying again. “I think we’d better go,” said Josh. “Thanks again for finding my daughter.”
“No problem,” said Jamie.
They filed out the door just as Emma arrived. Jamie saw the undisguised lust in her friend’s eyes as she and Josh exchanged polite hellos. There had been no mention of a mommy. Josh the cop was single. Talk about perfect for Emma.
A moment later Emma was shutting the shop door behind her. “Who was that? He’s gorgeous.”
“Josh Armstrong. His kid was lost.”
“And you found her?” Emma was lighting up like a theater marquee. “Oh, my gosh, that’s such a movie moment.”
Jamie made a face. “How did I know you’d say that?”
“And talk about a good deed. Wow! Is he single?”
“I’m not sure, but I think so. I’ll introduce you to him.”
“Like I could compete with you and all that gorgeous blondness,” Emma said. “Anyway, you saw him first.”
“That doesn’t mean I want him,” said Jamie, going to fetch her purse.
“You’d be crazy not to.”
“Well, then, call me crazy. I don’t need another cop in my life. Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt. Took it back.”
Emma shook her head as she followed Jamie out of the Chocolate Bar. She couldn’t blame Jamie for being scarred for life. Married to any man who smacked her around would be enough to scar any woman. At least Jamie had had the sense to get out quickly. This policeman sure didn’t seem like the smacking type, not from the way those little girls were climbing all over him. He looked like the catch of the day. He also looked like the kind of man who went for women like Jamie. And Tess L’amour.
Emma sighed inwardly. Oh, well. She had Jimmy Stewart waiting at home. Rear Window, candy corn, and a Vampire’s Kiss—now, that was living.
But back at Emma’s place Jamie didn’t seem to think so. She only drank half of her Vampire’s Kiss, even though she was sleeping in the guest
room. (Also the office and fabric room, but Emma had managed to uncover the day bed.) And she thought Rear Window was boring.
“How can you say that?” Emma protested. “That movie is a classic.”
Jamie pulled a DVD out of her purse. “Now, here’s a classic. Let’s watch this next.”
Emma took it. “Friday the 13th. Oh, gross.”
“We each got to pick one,” Jamie reminded her.
Emma made a face. “Ick.”
“My turn, my pick.”
“We could make some more gift jars,” Emma suggested.
“While we watch the movie,” said Jamie with a wicked smile.
“You’re sick,” Emma muttered, but she put the movie on.
It was totally disgusting and creepy. Emma sat at the card table with her back to the TV while they did their craft projects, but just the screams were enough to make her want to run and hide under her bed. “I’ll never be able to sleep tonight,” she complained when it was done.
“Good thing it’s Saturday. The shop’s closed tomorrow and you can sleep in,” Jamie said heartlessly.
“You have rotten taste.”
“Thank you.” Jamie dumped the last of her Vampire’s Kiss in the kitchen sink, then started down the hall to the guest room, calling over her shoulder, “Pleasant dreams.”
“Oh, fine. Scare the liver out of me and then leave me to turn off the lights by myself.”
Emma had lived on her own ever since she graduated from college, and being alone never bothered her. It certainly didn’t now, she told herself, especially when she had another person in the house with her. Like Jamie would be any help against a crazed killer. Or Mrs. Nitz, who lived on the other side of the duplex and was eighty and deaf as a stone. Emma thought of that big, gorgeous policeman. Was he still on duty?
The wind had picked up outside. She could hear her wind chime tinkling like crazy. It was a dark and stormy night, just the kind of night that movie murderers picked to wreak mayhem.
A Small Town Christmas Page 6
