NOT a CREATURE WAS STIRRING

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NOT a CREATURE WAS STIRRING Page 4

by Christina Freeburn


  I’m safe. Nothing bad will happen.

  You don’t think Cassie will try and contact him and see how the surprise visit went? She sold you the trailer. She had to know he was in there.

  My spirit plummeted even further. We don’t know that for sure. Samuel isn’t one to get permission from anyone or fill them in on a plan.

  The girl is a hot mess right now. What if she blames you? Comes after you. Think about it, Merry, how’s she going to feel when she finds out her dad died?

  Headlights lit the area near the RV. I bolted upright in bed. Ebenezer whistled and huddled against me, seeking out the warmth that had left him. Footsteps crackled against the gravel outside the window. I gathered Ebenezer into my arms, holding my breath. With my free hand, I pulled my cell phone from the charger and placed it on my lap, tapping 9-1-1. My finger posed above the call button in case I needed it. My breath came in spurts. Ebenezer cuddled against me.

  “I’ll keep you safe,” I promised in a whisper, dropping a kiss onto his furry head.

  The phone played “Up on the Rooftop.” I fumbled with it. Scotland. He’d know what to do. “Scot—”

  He cut me off. “I saw movement in the back of the RV. Sorry for scaring you. I’m about to knock on the door.”

  What was my son doing here in the middle of the night? Second thought, I didn’t care. I sprang out of bed, my feet hitting the cold floor. I stuffed my bare feet into my sneakers. The pants of my flannel snowman pajamas puddled around my shoes. Winter was not a good time for RV traveling. I needed to check into insulating the place better or my plans for the RV as a home away from home for craft events in November and December was a bust.

  I opened the door. Before I could ask what Scotland was doing here, he stepped inside and drew me into a fierce embrace.

  “I hate that man.” My son’s voice was tight with barely controlled emotion.

  Scotland knew. I shouldn’t be surprised someone on the force informed him of what happened. I hugged him back. My son was a good officer because he was a compassionate man. Even when he was younger, he was able to see the other side of an issue and had a forgiving nature. It was rare for him to dislike someone. He hated being the source of anyone’s hurt.

  “You’ll regret saying that in the morning. I’m fine.”

  “Only because he killed himself.” Scotland pulled back and studied me, frowning. “What happened to your face?”

  I raised my hand and touched my cheek. There was a tender spot. “I tripped when I found Samuel.”

  “I’m so sorry, Mom.” Scotland hugged me again. “That was a horrible experience. Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. What are you doing out here in the middle of the night.”

  “Checking on you. Isn’t that obvious?”

  “How did you know which RV I owned?”

  “I was spotted driving around and had to go through an inquisition.” He smiled. “Your friends are protective of you. Grace Turner pointed out which was yours.”

  “Grace was out patrolling?”

  He nodded. “I advised her to ask the Armory to supply a security team and she said it wasn’t necessary. She wanted to make sure all was quiet tonight as a lot of the campers were a little out of sorts because of the earlier police action. She told them there was nothing to worry about.”

  I still didn’t like knowing Grace was checking out the RV park by herself. “I’d have kept her company.”

  “She had someone watching her back and told me not to be concerned.”

  “Abraham. Her son is never too far behind her.”

  “Can’t fault a son for that.” He smiled, the emotion reached his eyes. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Yes. You should head home and get some sleep.” I waggled my finger at him. “You told me you couldn’t stop by the craft show because you were working. Off to bed young man. I’d offer a place here...” My gaze traveled to the dinette which also served as the extra bed. The table top could be lowered and used as the base for the bed. The bench cushions were then used as the mattress. I didn’t want my son sleeping on the space where Samuel had died.

  And from the look on his face, neither did he. “You remember Paul McCormick?”

  I nodded. He was on the volunteer fire department squad with Scotland. Or had been as Scotland was no longer a part of it since he moved. I hadn’t seen Paul since Scotland moved to Morgantown. The guy was more Scotland’s friend than a family friend. “He’s a friend of yours from the fire station.”

  “His hobby is working on cars and carpentry. He could knock that out for you and replace it with something better suited for your needs. Shelves for your machines and storage for your supplies.”

  “I don’t want to inconvenience him. I’m sure I can find someplace that renovates RVs.”

  My son grinned. “Trust me, he’d love to hear from you.”

  Ugh. Not this again. My son had this insane notion that his friend, who was thirteen years younger than me, and I would make a nice couple. Apparently, I hadn’t talked Scotland out of that idea. “Good night, Scotland.”

  “Sleep tight, Mom. If you hear anything call me or the police.”

  “Sound seeps through the windows. I don’t want to bother—”

  “Mom, don’t ignore it. Call the police to investigate. That’s what we’re here for. To protect you. Tell the dispatcher you’re Officer Winters’s mom and he told you to call if you heard any strange noises in the RV parking lot at the Armory. An officer will come and check it out. It’s not a bother.”

  “But…” My nerves were a little frazzled and my imagination was great at conjuring up possibilities.

  “You’re my family. Police are also my family. Which makes them your family. We take care of each other. They’ll take care of you.” Scotland kissed the top of my head and strolled out.

  Four

  Jack Frost had visited last night. The small window over my bed was coated in a thin layer of ice, and the cold seeped through the wall. Ebenezer was pressed to my side, burrowed completely under the blanket and squealed his displeasure when I moved away from him.

  “What are you complaining about? You wear a permanent fur coat.” Leaving the bed to head to the bathroom was a giant struggle, but I wasn’t going to sell anything if I didn’t get out from underneath the covers.

  I threw back the comforter and hustled into the bathroom, pausing long enough to grab a holiday-themed sweater and leggings. I was willing to contort myself into a pretzel to get dressed in the small bathroom and benefit from the steam of the hot water.

  After showering and getting dressed, I packed up my Cricut then wrestled an annoyed Ebenezer back into his cage. He whistled and squealed at me. “Stop being a spoiled child. You don’t want to be left in here. The only way to get you inside the building is in this cage.”

  My plan was to half-heartedly sneak Ebenezer in. After I set up the small table I used for my register, I’d put him in my folding utility wagon that I used to transport my items and place his cage underneath my register area.

  Stepping outside, the cold acted like the first cup of coffee in the morning, straightening my shoulders and focusing my mind. Every task I needed to accomplish this morning fell into perfect order in my brain. Maybe the cold wasn’t such a bad thing.

  A hum filled the air and I spotted Abraham heading toward me in a golf cart. There was a small trailer hooked to the back. He stopped.

  “I’m helping the vendors in the farther lots bring their items to the building. Mama said you’d be one of the first ones up.” Abraham beamed.

  “If you can take over the products, I can bring my cashbox and Ebenezer.” I was excited. Less trips and I’d be able to get the set up finished sooner and have time to make some of the RV holiday décor.

  “I can take him,” Abraham offered, patting the empty seat beside him.
“No one will be upset if I bring him into the Armory.”

  True. Most of the vendors knew about Abraham’s condition. I felt bad taking advantage of him, so Ebenezer was allowed inside but it wasn’t safe to leave my little pal in the RV all day. I retrieved Ebenezer and handed over the cage.

  Abraham held the cage in front of his face. Ebenezer rubbed his cheek on Abraham’s finger. “I don’t think he wants to stay in here all day. He looks sad.”

  The little rascal was deliberately worming his way into Abraham’s heart. I had no doubt Ebenezer figured out that Abraham had a soft heart when it came to animals. “Don’t let him out. It’s not safe for him to run around in the Armory and I can’t leave him in the RV. It’s too cold.”

  “Can I let him out in our RV? Mama lets me have a break from one o’clock to two thirty. It’s my quiet time.”

  Routine was important to Abraham. Being able to retreat to a quiet spot helped him cope with social activities. “Ok. Just keep a close eye on Ebenezer so he doesn’t do anything he shouldn’t.”

  “I promise.” Abraham secured Ebenezer beside him and slowly drove off.

  I waved goodbye and hefted the handle of my tote bag higher onto my shoulder. At least I didn’t have to carry Ebenezer’s cage, my tote bag containing a water bottle, wallet, and iPad, and a cashbox. It was a major hike to the Armory. I should’ve asked Abraham to return for me or given him the tote or cashbox. I adjusted the strap of the tote. Earlier, the contents in my bag hadn’t seemed heavy, but now I felt like I was hauling a kitchen sink to the craft show. It was going to take a while to walk there lugging the heavy items. I should’ve put in my earphones and listened to an Audible book to pass the time.

  My shoulder felt like it was about to fall off. Vendors passed me. I was slower than the last twenty-four hours before Christmas. The pain in my shoulder intensified. Hoping I could adjust the load some, I put down the cashbox and rummaged through my bag for anything I could transfer to the box.

  Chapstick. Bandages. Old lottery tickets. Why did I still have these? A remnant of my life with Samuel. Occasionally, I had joined Samuel and his mom Helen on their twice weekly outing to a local convenience store to buy lottery tickets.

  Where was my vendor badge? I shoved aside yesterday’s newspaper I intended to use as extra bedding material for Ebenezer. I needed the badge to get into the venue without having to pay the admission fee. Closing my eyes, I pictured my packing process. I had placed the vendor packet in my suitcase—and left it there. Last night had thrown me off my battle plan, and I had slunk to bed rather than do my usual night before show hunting and gathering of items.

  I looked longingly in front of me. I was halfway there and now I had to go back. Sighing, I picked up the cashbox, turned around and trudged back to my RV. With every step, the items grew heavier. Finally, I saw my RV and the sight energized me. Tucking the cash box under my arm, I awkwardly reached into my bag to retrieve my keys.

  Of course, they were buried somewhere in the bottom. “Really should have done this earlier.”

  A movement caught my attention. I glanced up. There was a person dressed in blue jeans and a black hoodie fiddling with the door to my RV.

  “What are you doing?” I ran forward with a clumsy gait as I tried keeping hold of my box and purse.

  The person jumped toward me. In that moment, I realized my stupid mistake. I should’ve walked away and called security, not confront the person. I spun. The cashbox slipped from my hands, clattering to the gravel ground. I left it and ran.

  There was scuffling behind me. They were catching up. I scanned the lot, looking for someone to help me. There was no one. I started to slip the bag off, hoping dropping it caused the thief to stop and allow me more time to get away. Before it fell from my shoulder, I was tackled from behind.

  A cry escaped me. I toppled to the ground. The force knocked my glasses off. Everything was blurry and wavy. A lilac scent wrapped around me. The purse was trapped under my body, the objects digging into my stomach. A hand pushed on my neck, clunking my forehead onto the ground as the other wrapped around the strap of my bag. Instinctively, I tightened my hold.

  Let them take it, I scolded myself. My hand refused to obey the frantic order in my head.

  The person grabbed my shoulders and lifted me up. Heavy breathing was in my ear. A hand moved from shoulder to the back of my neck. Fear raced through me. What was I going to do? I bent my knees, giving myself some height from the ground and tipped sideways, hoping to throw the purse snatcher off balance. My knee jammed into their side. I was free.

  Description. The police would need a description if they succeeded in swiping my purse. Squinting, I tried to crisp up the image. I saw white tennis shoes, black shoelaces and bare ankles. One chubby ankle had a strip of gauze on it. Irrational thoughts slipped into my head. Why wasn’t this person wearing socks? It was cold out here.

  I scrambled to my feet, abandoning the purse on the ground. The hoodie slipped from their head, revealing blonde almost white hair. Their mouth and nose were covered with a bandana and sunglasses hid their eyes. The person took a menacing step toward me, fists clenching and unclenching. I was terrified.

  Behind me, I heard the whirr of the golf cart. Abraham. Did I want to yell for help? I was conflicted. I wanted to be saved from the thief but also didn’t want to place someone else in danger.

  Abraham released a battle cry. “Merry Christmas, I’m coming.”

  Shoving me to the ground, the individual turned and ran. Once again, Abraham was my hero. I pushed myself to my feet, keeping my tote pressed to my body.

  “Happy holiday to you,” I yelled after the person.

  “Are you okay?” Abraham glared at the tried-to-be criminal.

  “I’m fine.” I rotated my shoulder, working out the kink from carrying the heavy bag and the tug-of-war over it. It was getting chilly. The cold was seeping through the leggings. Looks like the thief wasn’t the only one needing to dress more appropriately for the weather.

  “You sure you’re okay?” Abraham stared at my knees.

  My holiday leggings were torn. Santa’s sleigh was now flying over my knee instead of a house. That’s why I was cold. Bah Humbug. It took me hours to find this pair that was the perfect complement to my reindeer sweater.

  “Can you drive me back? I just need to change and grab my lanyard.”

  Abraham nodded and glared in the direction of the almost thief, picking up my glasses. “I won’t leave you alone, Merry. I’ll protect you.”

  Abraham pulled the golf cart to a stop and pointed out a guy standing in front of the doors to the Armory. “There’s a guard, Merry. You should tell him what happened. I’ll take your stuff to your booth.”

  The man looked rather bored as he scanned the necks of the people walking up to the door. Vendors wearing their lanyards were allowed in and shoppers were directed to the end of the long line forming.

  I slipped my lanyard with my badge around my neck and walked over.

  The guard nodded and motioned me inside.

  “Someone was trying to break into my RV,” I said. “They knocked me down and took off.”

  The guard straightened, the bored expression fading from his face. “When did this happen?”

  “A few minutes ago.”

  He took out a small notebook and asked me for more details. I told him what I remembered, and he scribbled everything down. “Anything taken?”

  I shook my head. “Everything looked fine. I’m sure I caught the person trying to break in not leaving. They weren’t carrying anything.”

  “Knowing the location you’re parked at, I bet the would-be thief was on the start of their stealing binge. I’ll make sure we have patrols driving around all day and tonight. Likely thought all the vendors were in the Armory setting up and it was time to start seeing what they could find a new home for. If we need any
more information from you, we’ll stop by.”

  “Should I report it to the police also?”

  The guard shrugged. “It’s up to you. Nothing was taken but you were knocked down.”

  Part of me said I should report it, but another part of me was done with talking to police for the weekend. I wanted to focus on the happiness of Christmas and the event. I had looked forward to this one for months. It was one of my favorites. Talking to the police would just take time away from selling.

  “I’m good,” I said.

  “When you’re ready to head back to your RV let a security personnel know, and you’ll be escorted back.”

  “Thanks.”

  He opened the door for me. “We’re glad to help.”

  The air inside in the Armory was suffocating. The heat was taking away from the cozy Christmas atmosphere they were trying to create. The inside of the one-acre Expo Center was converted into the North Pole. An eight-foot-tall candy cane decoration with a North Pole Headquarters banner hanging from it was placed near the registration table. Huge mounds of Poly-Fil fiber surrounded the table and was stacked in strategic places throughout the building. Christmas music drifted from the speakers.

  In the west end corner of the building, there was a huge sleigh set up for photo opportunities, a Santa sack with door prizes, and in the back of the building, a Christmas inflatable featuring Santa’s barn with eight reindeers. I was happy my booth wasn’t near that blow-up decoration. I wouldn’t be stuck answering the where’s Rudolph question.

  I was smack in the middle of the Armory building. Center aisle. Center booth. Not the choicest of locations as some shoppers’ energy—and money—dwindled before they reached the middle aisles. Most people started at one end of the building or the other and worked their way to the other side. My spot was better than being in the back near the inflatables or near the food court. Every year, vendors suffered losses because of dripping food and spilled drinks on their merchandise.

 

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