by Debbie Mason
“Right.” She remembered her conversation with Ty the day the chandelier fell. “Molly. Ty said Chloe had asked for a cut in Molly’s on-air time.”
“I heard the same. But do you think that alone would be enough for her to commit murder? Whoever is behind the death threat is serious. They’ve tried to kill Chloe four times. Possibly five if you include last night.”
From behind them someone gasped. They turned to see Chloe, her fur coat draped over her leopard-print robe with a pair of white fur boots on her feet. Her sister grabbed the stable door. “Kill me? Someone’s trying to kill me! Oh God.” She pressed the back of her hand to forehead. Grayson reached her, catching her before she crumpled in a heap at his feet.
Wearing her fur coat and carrying Fluffy in her arms, his grandmother came up behind them. “Don’t worry, my dear. No one will get near you with my grandson on the job. He’s a special agent with the FBI.”
Chapter Sixteen
Cat was heartily sick of riding into town on a snowmobile. She raised a gloved hand to clear the helmet’s visor as she took the path through the park from the lodge. The wet snowfall had added an extra thirty minutes to the ride into town. But at least she’d taken the time to dress appropriately in a black-and-pink one-piece snowmobile suit. Unlike four days earlier, she didn’t have to worry that her sister was unprotected. No, she had Special Agent Grayson Alexander providing security.
Her stomach cramped at the thought, just as it had when his grandmother dropped the bomb four hours ago. It was the reason Cat took the snowmobile instead of hitching a ride into town with Grayson, Chloe, and Estelle. Cat didn’t want to be anywhere near the man. She was afraid she’d punch him, or worse, cry. No wonder she’d been his primary suspect. In the suspicious minds of Grayson and his counterparts, the next step for someone who’d gotten away with bilking two hundred people out of their savings was murder. No doubt he’d spoken to Special Agent in Charge Turner.
At least Grayson was good for one thing; instead of having a full-blown meltdown upon learning she was in the crosshairs of a murderer, her sister had a mini one. The Alexanders had managed to calm Chloe down in under twenty minutes. Though Cat imagined it was being held by Special Agent Alexander while he spoke in deep, soothing tones that had really done the trick. Once Chloe was calm enough to speak and Cat had her anger and hurt under sufficient control, she’d offered her own comfort to her sister, assuring Chloe she wouldn’t let anyone close enough to harm her. Her sister waved off Cat’s offer. Hardly surprising. After all, why would she need a disgraced ex-cop when she had an FBI agent protecting her. A hot FBI agent, who, although he may not be a true Brit with a title or sexy accent, was actually ninety-eighth in line to the throne and heir to the title once his father died. Chloe had perked right up at that piece of news, and Cat had left the barn.
Cat turned the snowmobile onto Main Street. The one benefit of the two inches of snow they’d received in the last few hours was that the sidewalk hadn’t been cleared. Sam, Phil, and several grips turned to scowl at her when she drove along the sidewalk, pulling into the alley beside the Sugar Plum Bakery. Cat took off her helmet and got off the snowmobile. As she walked out of the alley, their reaction made sense. They were filming a scene, and she’d drowned out the carols being piped onto the street.
Chloe and George sat in a white horse-drawn carriage in the middle of the road half a block away while the residents of Christmas went about their holiday shopping. One in particular caught her attention: Grayson leaned against a decorated shop window looking utterly bored and devastatingly handsome. It was an act. And she’d learned the hard way that the man was one hell of an actor. When his head turned in her direction, she ducked into the bakery.
The shop smelled like cinnamon and coffee. Owner Grace Flaherty and her silent business partner Madison McBride stood behind the glass display case. Ty, in a black fur jacket, black pants, and black fur boots, dabbed at first Grace’s cheeks with a makeup brush, then Madison’s. From the slush on the black-and-white-tiled floor, they’d been busy. Not surprising, with the cast and crew stationed down the street. Plus, Grace made the best cupcakes and cookies in all of Colorado.
“Hi, Cat,” Grace said as she approached the counter. Madison smiled, earning her a “Stop that till I’m done” from Ty. She widened her eyes at Cat.
Once he’d finished, Ty turned. He slapped his open palm to his face. “Good God, why are you wearing that? And look at your hair.” He grabbed her by the arm, dragging her toward a nearby table covered with what looked to be the entire contents of his makeup bag.
She pulled her arm free. “Wait a minute. I have to place my order.”
“Make it snappy. I don’t have all day. The cast will be coming in for their touch-ups. And they’re filming a scene here.”
Maybe she shouldn’t have stopped in after all. But she wanted to pick up a coffee for Vivi. Cat had come up empty at the lodge, and they were going to work on the case at the Chronicle. No sense leaving now, she thought, her order would take all of a few minutes. “So, you two are making your on-screen debut today, are you?” she asked, smiling at Grace and Madison.
“Yes, it’s the scene where Tessa bumps into Rand. I think they kiss.” Grace sighed. “Your sister is one lucky woman.”
Cat forced her smile to stay in place. “She sure is.”
“Harry isn’t. This is the scene where Byron finds out Rand followed them on their holiday and punches him,” Madison said.
Cat’s smile widened. Best news she’d heard today. She hoped George didn’t hold back. Madison and Grace gave her an odd look. “Sounds exciting. Um, I won’t keep you, then. I just need a decaffeinated latte with whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles and a large regular latte, no whip, no sprinkles.” She glanced in the display case. “And four of those.” She pointed at a chocolate cupcake with a swirl of creamy icing on top and a chocolate tree standing in the center.
Grace went to fill the coffee order while Madison took care of the cupcakes. “These are amazing. They’re filled with a raspberry ganache.” She lowered her voice. “I’m guessing the decaf latte is for Vivi? Cupcakes, too?”
Cat nodded, wondering why she was whispering, then realized they must want to keep the baby news on the down-low, just like their marriage.
“Okay. Then you better double your cupcake order. Chance is driving her crazy.”
“Make it a dozen.” Vivi wasn’t the only one being driven crazy by a man. And Vivi’s was a good crazy, even if she probably didn’t see it that way.
“Pussy, I don’t have all day.”
Cat sighed, unzipping her jacket to pull out forty dollars. Madison laughed. “You go, and we’ll get this boxed up for you.”
“Thanks,” she said, placing the money by the cash register. Ty pointed at the chair.
“Ty, I—”
“Sit.” He leaned forward once she did. “Rumor has it the White Knight is in town.”
Leave it to Ty to know more about what was going on in Christmas than she did. “Okay, that’s good, but what does Easton being home have to do…” He made a duck face. “Why are you doing that?”
He held up a lipstick and pencil. “I can’t do anything about the outfit, but I can at least make you presentable. Pucker up.”
“I’m not puckering…” She frowned as a dazed expression came over his face, his mouth hanging open.
“Easton!” Madison rounded the counter, rushing to the front of the shop.
Cat twisted to see Easton McBride coming through the door. Snow dusted his inky black hair and his brown aviator jacket. He gave his sister-in-law a tired smile, his usually tanned skin pale. It was then that Cat noticed he was leaning heavily on a cane.
“Careful,” Madison said, holding the door open for him. Once he was inside, she gave him a one-armed hug. “I’m so mad at you. Why didn’t you tell us you were having the surgery?”
He hugged Madison, his sapphire blue eyes meeting Cat’s. Ty sucked in a breath.
Madison sighed. “You’re as stubborn as your brothers. Come on, I’ll get you a coffee.”
The lipstick and pencil landed on the table with a clatter. “He… He’s coming this way.”
“Hey, Cat.” Easton placed a hand on her shoulder, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “How are you doing?”
Awful. “Good.” She stood up and offered her chair. “Here. Sit down.”
He cocked his head. “Really?”
She laughed. “Okay, tough guy, I won’t—” She broke off when Phil, Sam, and three other members of the crew entered the bakery.
“Folks, hope you don’t mind, but we have a scene to film.” Phil didn’t so much as look Cat’s way. The director had been standoffish since the night of his birthday party. His gaze cut past her to Easton. “If you’d like to be an extra, we—”
“No thanks. I’ll just grab my coffee and get out of your way,” Easton said.
That was her cue to leave. She joined Easton at the counter and picked up her order and change. “You heading to the Chronicle?” he asked once they’d said good-bye to Madison and Grace.
“Yeah, are you coming?” She turned with the cake box and coffee tray in her arms and walked straight into Ty. Easton’s hand shot out, saving the coffees.
“You have amazing reflexes,” Ty said, his eyes glazed behind his red-framed glasses.
“And you would be?” Easton asked.
Ty looked wounded. “I thought Thor would have mentioned me. I’m Ty.” He lowered his voice. “I’m helping on the case. So I guess that makes me your partner?”
Easton raised an eyebrow at Cat. “Thor?”
“Chance,” she said, fighting back a laugh. She wondered if she should tell him he was the White Knight, but thought better of it. Through the front window, she caught a glimpse of George and Molly. “Ty, we have to get going. As soon as you’re finished here, stop by the Chronicle.” She gave him directions.
“I’ll be there with bells on.” He beamed at Easton, then raised his hands to Cat’s hair and tried to fluff it. He sighed. “I can’t do a thing with it. I forbid you to wear that again, Pussy.” He flicked his finger at her helmet. “That too,” he said, pointing at her snowsuit.
“Pussy?” Easton chuckled as they walked to the door.
“Yeah, and you don’t want to know—” She broke off when George and Molly walked in, followed by the Alexanders and her sister. Cat and Easton stepped aside to let them pass. “So, how do you like being back in Christmas?” she asked, focusing on Easton to avoid making eye contact with Grayson.
Before Easton could answer, Chloe stopped in front of them. “I didn’t know you were home.” She noticed his cane, and her gaze jerked to his face. “What happened?”
His jaw tightened. “Skiing accident.” He turned to Cat. “Ready to go?”
“Cat, I need a moment of your time,” Grayson clipped out, laying on a thick, fake British accent. He reached for her arm at the same time he sized up Easton.
“Sorry, we have somewhere to be.” Cat turned to Easton, giving him a flirty smile. “Don’t we, baby?”
Cat didn’t know who was more shocked: her, Easton, Chloe, or Grayson.
* * *
Baby. Grayson hadn’t been able to get the damn word or the image of Cat saying it out of his head. He got that she was mad. She had a right to be. He should have told her. But the way she’d found out he was undercover hadn’t been ideal, so he’d decided to put if off until tonight. Once Estelle and Chloe were in bed, he’d planned to take Cat for a walk under the stars. Maybe go back to the barn with a blanket and a bottle of wine. Best-laid plans… Leave it to his grandmother to out him.
Following Nell McBride’s directions, Grayson looked for the pale yellow wooden building on Main Street that housed the Chronicle. The older woman had been waiting for them at the town hall. After the taping was over for the day, Grayson, Chloe, George, Molly, and Phil were sent off in a horse-drawn sleigh to judge the best-lit house. Nell had been hoping to find out if she’d won, but they’d been sworn to secrecy. The winner would be announced tonight after the Parade of Lights.
And the parade was the reason Grayson was looking for Cat. Actually, it was more of an excuse to talk to her. But he also had a legitimate reason for seeking her out—he wanted her to provide added security for Chloe. Gage McBride, the sheriff, had already informed him he’d be busy with crowd control. With the cast of As the Sun Sets appearing in the parade, they were expecting a record turnout. The parade was still three hours away, and people were already lining up along the route.
He spotted the yellow building up ahead and pulled into the only parking spot available four shops down. Gage was with Chloe at the warehouse, but he had to take off in twenty minutes. So Grayson didn’t have a whole lot of time to convince Cat to come with him. He caught a glimpse of her through the window of the Chronicle. She was laughing with Chance McBride, his fiancée Vivi Westfield, and the man Cat had called baby—Easton McBride.
Grayson hadn’t known he was a McBride until he talked to Ty while having his hair and makeup retouched. He’d remembered hearing the name when Chloe accused Cat of using him to get back at her for stealing Easton. Clearly what Grayson had assumed was a love triangle from the past wasn’t over. At least if Ty was to be believed. Grayson didn’t. A woman like Cat wouldn’t kiss a man like she’d kissed him if she was involved with someone else. The word baby taunted him as he opened the door.
Four pairs of eyes turned in his direction as he walked in. None of them appeared to be happy to see him, especially Cat. Chance, who stood behind Vivi with his hands on her shoulders, cocked his head. “What happened to you?”
He rubbed his jaw and winced at the bite of pain. “George. It was in the script.” Though the actor wasn’t supposed to actually hit him. George said he slipped on the floor, but Grayson didn’t buy it.
Easton, who sat sprawled in a chair in front of Vivi’s desk, said, “Interesting. Maybe you’re right, Cat, and George really does think he’s Byron Hart.”
Grayson was aware of Cat’s transference theory. She’d shared it with him this morning. He stepped closer to the desk. “Or he’s unhappy that it’s looking like Harry is going to cut into his on-air time. Grayson Alexander, by the way,” he said, extending his hand first to Easton, who was closest, then to Vivi and Chance, who introduced themselves.
“Special Agent Grayson Alexander,” Cat added, putting extra emphasis on the special.
She sat in a chair a couple feet from Easton, wearing a green sweatshirt, the upper part of her snowmobile suit down around her waist. She held his gaze, both eyebrows raised. Oh yeah, she wasn’t going to make this easy. “Cat, I have to get back to the warehouse, and I was hoping you’d come with me. I need an extra pair of eyes tonight. Gage and his deputies will help out as much as they can, but they’ll be busy managing the crowds.”
Vivi, Chance, and Easton turned to look at Cat, waiting for her response.
She studied her nails, then finally muttered, “Fine.”
He released the breath he’d been holding. “Great. Nell says there’s an extra ATV you can use to ride beside the float.”
“I’ve already volunteered to drive the float Chloe will be on, so I’ll have you covered, too,” Chance said.
“I’m sure I can hunt down another ATV,” Easton said.
“No way, baby brother. You’re going to go home and get some rest. And my… fiancée’s going with you to make sure that you do. Right, honey?”
Vivi scowled up at him. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work. Easton doesn’t need a babysitter, and I have to cover the parade for the paper.”
Since it appeared both Easton and Vivi were about to argue with Chance, who didn’t
look like a man who backed off easily, Grayson lifted his chin at Cat. “I don’t want to rush you, but we should get going.”
Her lips were pressed into a thin line as she leaned forward and put her cup of coffee on the desk. Then she stood up and shrugged her snowmobile suit on, grabbing the helmet off the floor. “Thanks for the help, guys. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, Vivi. Take care of yourself, Easton.” She nodded at Chance. “I’ll see you later.”
“You’ll see me, too.” Easton ignored his brother, who was muttering under his breath. “Find a way to get Chloe to turn on her phone. That way I’ll be able to hack into it.”
Before Grayson could ask why Easton wanted to access Chloe’s phone, Vivi said, “We’ll talk,” then mouthed at the parade. She didn’t realize her husband had leaned over to look down at her.
“Dammit, Slick, I’m not fooling—”
She tipped her head back and, smiling up at him, patted his cheek. “We’ll discuss it later.” Then she said to Cat, “Word of advice, Nell’s a stickler. No one is in the parade unless they’re in costume. So if you don’t want to end up as an elf, I’d avoid her.”
Chapter Seventeen
I am not going to be an elf,” Cat grumbled as Grayson held open the Chronicle’s door.
“I don’t know, I think you’d make a cute elf.” He smiled, joining her on the sidewalk. From the look on her face, he should have kept that comment to himself. “I’m parked over here.” He indicated the Range Rover down the street.
She looked in the opposite direction and held up her helmet. “My snowmobile is that way. I’ll meet you at the warehouse.”
He reached for her as she started to walk away and got a narrow-eyed stare in return. He needed time alone with her, so he figured he’d better talk fast and make it good. He removed his hand from her arm. “They’re calling for more snow. It’ll be late by the time the parade wraps up. Do you really want to be heading to the ranch in the middle of a snowstorm? I’ll bring you into town first thing tomorrow.” He held back a relieved smile when she agreed and pivoted in the direction of the Range Rover.
