Naomi shifted Matthew to the other arm. “I don’t think Donovan slept a wink last night. Which meant I didn’t get much sleep either. Hey, Timmy left his sled in your garage the last time he was there. You mind if we stop over and get it when we leave?”
“Nope, it’s unlocked. Help yourself.”
The sheriff striding through the crowd caught her attention. “Mason, over here!” she called.
He made his way to her. “I thought you’d be here somewhere,” he said. “I was watching for you.”
“Any word on Pia’s death? Or Florence’s?” Bree found she both dreaded and longed for the answer.
Mason shook his head. “I’ve talked to all their neighbors. No one saw anything.”
Bree tightened her grip on the baby carrier. “Do you think Olivia is in danger?”
Mason’s gaze bored into her. “Don’t take any chances, Bree. It’s a possibility we can’t ignore. It’s a weird situation.”
“I’ve wondered about a black-market baby ring.”
He raised his brows. “The missing babies from the res?”
She nodded and told him about finding some news stories about babies being stolen and adopted. “What if Florence cared for the babies as they were being funneled to their new parents?”
“And Pia helped?”
“That’s what I wondered.”
“I’ll see what I can find out,” he said. “Maybe you should run for sheriff in the next election cycle, Bree.”
“Not a chance.” Bree caught sight of her son, and pride filled her chest. “The race is starting.”
Ten children were lined up with five outhouses, one child on each side. Each structure had a push bar on both sides so two children could maneuver it down the snowy street. Boys and girls hopped up and down with excitement as they waited for the starting whistle.
Gary waved a flag in the air. “We’re about to get started,” he called. “Remember the rules—you’ll each have your turn and you’ll be timed. Whichever outhouse gets to the finish line fifty feet down there”—he turned and pointed to the line in the street—“in the fastest time wins the race. And the prize this year is a Newfoundland puppy. One for each racer.”
Naomi and Bree stared at one another. “Do you know how big they get?” Naomi whispered. “I hope our boys don’t win.”
“But they’re so sweet,” Bree said.
“And the size of a black bear,” Naomi said. “What were they thinking?”
Samson whined at their feet. “You’d like a new puppy, wouldn’t you, boy?” Bree asked, resting her hand on his head. “But he’d swallow you up by the time he was six months old.”
Gary gave all the entries a number. Timmy and Davy would go last. Bree nearly groaned. She wanted it over for the boys. They came to stand out of the way while the first outhouse made its run.
The two girls were off at the blare of Gary’s whistle. The girls were about twelve, but they lacked good coordination of their efforts. At one point they had the outhouse sideways on its toboggan and heading for a tree. With everyone screaming instructions, they managed to get their outhouse turned. They took nearly two minutes to reach the finish line, not nearly well enough to place. Their crestfallen faces made Bree’s heart hurt.
The next three teams did better. Two ten-year-old boys finished at just under sixteen seconds, which was going to be the time for their boys to beat. “You’re up, Davy,” Bree said. “I mean Dave,” she added when Davy sent a scowl her direction. She’d never remember.
The boys sprang to their outhouse. Their faces flushed, they wore identical expressions of determination. Davy glanced over his shoulder at his mother, and she gave him a thumbs-up. He grinned, then turned his attention back to the judge.
Gary blew the whistle. The boys strained a bit to get the outhouse moving, then it slid forward easily. Samson ran alongside, barking his encouragement, while Bree and Kade yelled at the top of their lungs. She kept an eye on the sweep of the second hand. Close, so close to winning.
Then the outhouse slid over the line at sixteen seconds on the dot. They’d barely missed beating the other boys. Bree considered it a win, since Davy and Timmy were only eight. “Great job!” she called, but Davy’s face looked dejected.
She watched Kade hoist her son onto his shoulders in triumph. Davy’s scowl changed to a cheeky grin atop Kade’s broad shoulders. Bree’s gaze lingered on her handsome husband. Was there anything more attractive than a man who shouldered a responsibility that wasn’t his?
Quinn shivered when a stream of cold air blew down his neck from his open window. He wore a dark brown wig over his short hair. He had a fake beard on as well. The leather doo-rag and jacket plus boots completed the biker look. He’d always heard it said if you want to be disguised, be blatant about it. This was about as blatant as possible.
The pavement was surprisingly clear of snow, but high piles left from the snowplows reached nearly to the eaves of the garages along the streets that he passed.
Maybe he should have stayed away, just in case, but where better to hide than in plain view among a throng of people? After being ignored after umpteen calls to his partner’s cell phone, Quinn planned a face-to-face visit in town to see what was going on.
Folks out for the Heikinpaiva Festival crowded the streets. The Finnish winter festival had always been his favorite time of year. Parka-clad spectators watched as artists created ice sculptures near the old wishing well. He saw a lifelike ice statue of a dog. It couldn’t be any dog but Samson.
Quinn parked and got out. His mouth watered at the scent of pulla on the cold air. Tonight there would be a Finnish smorgasbord of all kinds of delicacies. His favorite was the smoked lake trout and the leipajuustoa, or squeaky cheese. But he wouldn’t dare show his face to that.
He kept his gaze on the sidewalk though he wanted to gawk at the familiar sights: men lining up for the wife-carrying contest, bathers in Speedos ready for their polar bear plunge, the partygoers raising their glasses of cold kalia.
Someone shouted, “Talven selka poikki! ” and pounded on his back. The words rolled off his own tongue before he realized how they might give him away as he returned the greeting that meant, “Winter’s back is broken.”
Luckily, whoever he’d just talked to hadn’t thought anything of a biker knowing Finnish. The man continued on his rolling course down the sidewalk. He’d definitely had too much kalia.
Quinn quickened his pace. He passed so many familiar faces, but he kept his expression impassive behind his sunglasses. As he hoped, no one gave him a second look as he blended in with other biker types. The sun turned the ice and snow into a glittering playland. The brilliant light made him glad he wore the glasses.
Ahead of him, the crowd broke, and the sun shone onto red curls under a knit cap. Quinn recognized the walk instantly. The tilt of the head, the pointed chin as she glanced up and laughed at the man who walked next to her. A young boy clung to her other hand, and his gaze focused on the boy. Alive. He still couldn’t take it in.
He realized he’d come to a stop when someone jostled him. He stepped out of the flow and around the corner away from her. His heart was pounding. If she’d turned her head to see him . . . But no, she’d never expect to see him and wouldn’t recognize him in this getup. He was safe.
Fumbling in his pocket, he couldn’t get his packet of pipe tobacco out. Swearing, he tore off his glove and drove his hand into his pocket for it. His hands shook. He grabbed a pinch, stuffed his pipe, and lit it. The first pull of the aromatic vanilla and maple Cavendish blend soothed him immediately.
The smoke curled around his head, and he leaned against the block building and surveyed the waves of humanity moving around him. Nicholls’ Finnish Imports was across the street. From here, he could look in the window at the sweaters and Finnish items for sale. This town was too familiar for his peace of mind. The coffee shop, his favorite café, the library where he’d gone for story hour.
Sweat broke out on his f
orehead, and nausea churned in his belly. He took one last pull on his pipe, then tapped the contents into the snow. He stepped out into the crowd again.
And came face-to-face with her. She was still laughing. That’s how he remembered her. Laughing with the joy of life. Something nudged his leg, and he looked down. Her dog pressed against his calf and whined. Samson knew Quinn.
Wheeling, Quinn ran for his truck. He hadn’t seen his partner anyway.
The scent of the pipe tobacco brought back memories. Bree inhaled it, tasting the vanilla and maple sugar. Rob had smoked that same tobacco, and she hadn’t smelled it in years. Samson nudged her leg, and she looked down. He was staring at the biker who’d been in front of her a minute ago. He whined, clearly wanting to follow the man.
Bree studied the man’s back. Something about him held her attention. His walk maybe. She couldn’t put her finger on it. He stopped by a truck, and she caught a good look at his profile. A gasp escaped her.
“What’s wrong?” Kade asked.
“No-nothing,” she stammered. He’d think she was crazy if she said the guy reminded her of Rob. It was probably because she’d smelled that pipe tobacco. Her mind was playing tricks on her.
“Hey, there’s a wife-carrying contest going on,” Kade said. “You game?”
“If you want to risk a hernia,” she said, deciding to put the worries away for a while. She wanted to devote the day to Rob and Davy. Er, Kade and Davy.
Why had her mind slipped Rob’s name in like that? The fertility hormones she was taking were making her crazy and reminding her of when she was pregnant with Davy—and married to another man.
“I think I’ll pop in and see Anu,” she said.
“Good idea. I’ll take Dave over to watch the polar plunge,” he said.
“Meet you at the Suomi in half an hour,” she promised. She watched Kade take her son’s hand and lead him and Samson off toward the lake. He’d been a good father to her boy, even though Davy had given him a hard time at first. Davy hadn’t wanted anyone to take his father’s place. Kade had patiently worn down the boy’s defenses, and Davy rarely mentioned Rob until just lately, and then only in the context of being afraid. Bree found she was a little sad about that. She’d hoped to keep Rob’s memory alive for his boy, but it was a good thing that Davy trusted and loved Kade.
The traffic had nearly stopped with cars and trucks jamming the street. Lugging Olivia in the carrier, she jogged between the vehicles to the other side of the street and pushed open the door into Nicholls’ Finnish Imports. Shoppers filled the store, lines in every aisle. Anu wouldn’t have time to talk.
Anu saw her and waved from behind the cash register. “A break I am needing,” she told her assistant. “I will be back in fifteen minutes.” She slipped around the counter and took Bree’s elbow. “Back here, kulta. I have coffee and rolls just out of the oven.”
“I smelled the pulla the minute I opened the door,” Bree said. Her tummy rumbled. “Coffee sounds good too.”
“Never have I known you to turn down coffee.” Anu led her to the break room and had her sit. “Rest. You are having a good time, yes?”
“Wonderful, though Kade is trying to talk me into the wife-carrying contest.” Bree laughed at the inner picture it conjured. “I can’t imagine him even being able to lift me, let alone carry me,” Bree said, laughing. “Not in all these winter clothes. They have to weigh at least fifteen extra pounds with my boots.” She accepted the bread Anu offered and took a bite of the warm, yeasty goodness. “Delicious,” she muttered through her full mouth. “I’m famished.”
“Eat, eat,” Anu urged. She poured out the coffee and handed the cup to Bree.
“Thanks.” Bree took a sip and set it down. “Anu, I’m having the weirdest sensations today.”
Anu settled into the chair at the table. “What is wrong?”
“I keep thinking about Rob. Just now I smelled that pipe tobacco he used and thought I saw a guy who looked like him. Very strange.”
Anu’s smile faded. “I, too, miss him. Every day I think of my son. How he would look if he had lived. What he might have done with his life. Always, I carry this sadness.”
“Me too,” Bree said softly.
Anu watched her. “What of your house guest?”
“She’s still with us.”
Anu pressed her lips together.
“What?” Bree demanded.
Her mother-in-law shrugged. “This murder her brother is accused of, Pia’s death. And you, right in the thick of things as always.”
“It’s where I like to be.” Bree swallowed the last of her coffee. “I’d better go find my family.” She rose and dropped a kiss on Anu’s powdered cheek, then grabbed the baby carrier.
Walking back across the street, she found herself watching for the biker again.
11
KADE HELD TIGHT TO DAVE’S HAND. “YOU DID REALLY well in the outhouse race. I’m proud of you, son.”
The boy gave a little skip. “I wanted to win.”
“Next year. Mom was glad you didn’t win that Newfoundland puppy.”
“He was cute. I want to get one.”
They reached the Suomi Café. The bell on the door jingled when they entered.
“There’s Jenna,” Dave said, pointing to the blonde woman in the booth in the back corner.
Molly saw them and waved. Samson started toward her, but Kade stopped him with a word. The dog fell in at their heels as they walked back to join Jenna. Her reddened face and tear-filled eyes made him pause.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Fine,” she said.
Davy tugged at his hand. “Can I go pick out a roll?” he asked.
“Sure.” He watched the boy run to the display case, then slid into the seat across from Jenna. “You’re crying. Anything I can do?”
“Boyfriend troubles,” she said, dabbing at her eyes.
“I’m sorry.” He shifted uneasily. “Bree is a good one to talk to about stuff like that. I’m hopeless.”
His hands were on the table, and she reached over and cradled one of his hands in hers. “It helps just to know you care,” she said.
He started to pull his hand away. Surely she didn’t mean anything by it. At least that’s what he told himself until he caught the come-hither expression in her eyes. It shocked him so badly, he sat there like a lump and left his hand in hers.
“What’s going on here?” Bree asked to his right. Her gaze was on their linked hands.
Kade snatched his hand out of Jenna’s. “Jenna is upset. I told her she needed to talk to you.”
Jenna smiled. “Kade is such a sweetheart to try to comfort me. You’re so lucky, Bree.”
“What’s wrong, Jenna?” Bree’s eyes remained skeptical.
“Just boyfriend trouble. Not all men are like Kade.”
“No, he’s one in a million.” Bree’s words held a cold edge.
Davy ran from the pastry case and tugged on his mother’s hand. “Mom, can I have some grilled cheese?”
“Sure, honey.” Bree stepped over Samson, who had plopped on the floor, then slid into the booth beside Kade. “Sit down by Miss Jenna.” She set the baby carrier on the floor.
Jenna scooted over to make room for Dave, but she wore a sulky expression. Molly came up to take their order. She put down a plate of food for Samson, who began to gobble it up.
“Hi, Molly, what’s the special today?” Bree asked.
“How about some nice borsch, eh?” Molly said. “And I know your man. He’ll want some smoked trout.”
“I’ll have both,” Kade said, grinning. “You know me too well.”
“Blech, borsch,” Davy said. “Can I have grilled cheese?”
“You got it, little man,” Molly said, scribbling down the order. “And that pastry with thimbleberry jam, right?” Davy nodded.
Bree ordered borsch. Jenna studied the menu. “Nothing sounds very good. What are all these weird things? Cabbage rolls, pickled herring. Ic
k. I’ll have grilled cheese too,” she said, folding the menu and handing it back to the waitress.
Kade could sense Bree’s displeasure coming off her in waves. He was relieved to see Mason’s burly form enter the café and head straight for their table. He grabbed a chair and dragged it to the edge of the table, then sat. “Having a good time?”
“The best,” Bree said. “Hilary around with Zoe?”
“They’re over at the kids’ games.”
“Any word on my brother?” Jenna asked. “Is he talking this morning?”
“Nope. He did some more puzzles.”
“It must be his way of coping with his circumstances,” Jenna said.
“I went through your brother’s room at the Blue Bonnet right after we arrested him. I sorted through it again this morning. Nothing much there. More puzzles. His clothing. An iPod shuffle and a few Madonna CDs. His toiletries. Nothing else.”
“He hates clutter, and he prefers to spend his time outdoors.” Jenna gawked at the men walking by the big plateglass window in Speedos. “He loves winter festivals. I’m sure he’d like to be here now.”
“I managed to get him moved to a cell with a window,” the sheriff said. “He seems more calm. No more head banging at any rate.”
“Oh, thank you so much!”
Kade watched her glow at the news. Poor kid. She loved her brother very much. Mason glanced at Bree. “Hilary wanted me to invite you to dinner next Sunday. It’s Zoe’s third birthday.”
“We wouldn’t miss it!” Bree’s smile was warm.
Mason rose and returned the chair to the table from where he’d taken it.
“Nice guy,” Jenna said, watching him walk away. “He’d be nicer if he’d let my brother out of jail. It sounds like you’re related or something.”
“His wife is my first husband’s sister,” Bree said. “And they adopted Kade’s niece. His sister, Lauri, had a baby at sixteen.”
“Where is Lauri now?” Jenna asked.
“College at Houghton.”
Molly brought their food, and nothing more was said as they dug into their lunch. When Jenna was done, she excused herself, saying she needed to run an errand. As soon as she was out of sight, Bree opened her mouth, glanced at Davy, then shut it again. Kade knew she wanted to ask what the hand-holding was all about.
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