Lila smiled. “You two are going through the hard part right now. Forging your way. Everything will work out, I know it. Like you said before, Allie—you both want this second chance. That’s what matters. What you’ll both do to make sure it’s not thrown away.”
“Wait, what we’ll both do? Are you saying I have to compromise, too?” She gave Lila a devilish smile and dipped her spoon in her sister’s cup.
“Name of the game,” Lila said. “Wow, I should be a marriage counselor. I’m pretty good at this.”
“You are,” Allie said, giving Lila a little bow.
Lila laughed. “Too bad I’m showing a half-million-dollar house with mountain views in thirty minutes, or I’d think about it. Oh, and the fact that I’m divorced and have one meh blind date after another. The other night’s guy texted someone for a full two minutes right after our entrees were served and it felt ill-mannered for me to start eating when he was ‘otherwise engaged,’ so I waited.” She shook her head. “Forget me as a therapist. I would have counseled myself to take my plate of lemon sole and overturn it on his head.”
“You should have. I would have loved to see that.”
Lila laughed. “Do you believe he asked me out again? By text! Some people, right?”
Allie laughed so hard that Josie came over to investigate. She gave the dog a hug, rubbing her sides. “Remember when you were a scared little stray in the woods, Jo-Jo? Look at you now. Memory-foam bed, squeaky toys and rawhide bones aplenty.”
Josie licked her hand, then padded back over to her bed and curled up.
“Waah! Waah-waah!” came cries from across the condo.
“Not one but two baby Starks announcing they’ve awakened from their naps,” Lila said. She got up and went charging into the den, where there were four port-a-cribs. The room looked like a mini nursery. Her sisters were the world’s greatest aunts. “Fi, fi, fo, fum, I smell the diaper of a quadruplet-man.”
“Could be Olivia,” Allie said with a smirk.
“Nope, because I dealt with Miss Olivia right before their naps. Definitely quadruplet-man.”
Allie laughed and went to the port-a-cribs. “Yup, it’s Henry. Oh,” she said, pinching her nose. “And Tyler.” Olivia stirred and sat up, followed by Ethan.
“A mom’s and aunt’s work is never done,” Lila said, scooping up Henry while Allie picked up Tyler. “So what’s the plan for today?” she asked, sprinkling cornstarch on Henry’s tush.
“I’m meeting Theo for lunch at the Pie Diner at noon and we’ll spend the day together.”
“Good. Everything will be fine,” Lila said. “It really will.”
When her sister said it, with such conviction as she put Henry in his winter bunting and into the stroller, reaching for the next quad, Allie believed it.
Chapter Eleven
Theo arrived at the Pie Diner, one of his favorite lunch spots, but Allie and the quads weren’t there yet. He saw a few of his fellow officers from the PD at the counter, including Detective Reed Barelli, whose wife’s family owned the place. He stopped and said hello, then headed to a big table in the back and asked for four high chairs.
“Did you say four?” the waitress asked, gaping at him.
Arlena Ingalls, the owner and Reed Barelli’s mother-in-law, grinned at the waitress, then at Theo. “Today’s her first day and she’s new to town. Hasn’t gotten used to all the multiples. By tomorrow, she’ll ask how many high chairs before she even asks how many in the party.”
Theo smiled. “Welcome to Wedlock Creek. My wife and baby quads will be here any minute.”
“Baby quads,” the waitress said with wonder. “Wow.”
“Won’t faze you in a few days,” Arlena said to the young woman. “My neighbor has three sets of twins.”
“And people do this on purpose,” Theo added. “They marry at the Wedlock Creek Wedding Chapel because of its legend.”
The waitress shivered. “Well, I do hope to find my Mr. Right, but keep me away from that chapel! I want two kids, two years apart, a boy, then a girl.”
Arlena laughed. “You’ll have quintuplets without even stepping foot in the chapel. That’s how life works.”
“Don’t say that!” the waitress said with wide eyes, then hurried over to refill a glaring customer’s coffee.
“True, right?” Theo said to Arlena. “Take your son-in-law over there. Came to town a bachelor cop, very same day found himself married and the father of triplet babies. Because of the Wedlock Creek Chapel. I don’t believe in that kind of superstitious stuff usually, but evidence is walking and crawling all over town. And I should know—I got married there.”
Arlena grinned. “And it sure is good for business. Those little multiples grow up and want their potpie.”
Theo glanced around and took in several patrons who looked a lot alike. One day, his kids would be having lunch in here on a weekend or after school. The thought made him smile. His kids, teenagers. That seemed like a million years away, but he knew that time would come in the blink of an eye.
He looked toward the door. No sign of Allie and the quads yet. It wasn’t quite noon, so he took out his Moleskine notebook and flipped through his notes on the present-thief case. This morning he’d gotten a call from the captain that two more houses had been targeted yesterday, this time on Willow Road, which ran perpendicular to Oak Hill. He’d paid a visit to one of the homes—same story. A gift with their seven-year-old son’s name on it had been swiped. Four other gifts with other family members’ names—left untouched. Also not taken was an iPod on the coffee table right near the Christmas tree.
The thief seemed interested in taking only one gift per home and marked for a seven-year-old boy, regardless of who that boy was. Actually, scratch that. So far, three of the boys (he couldn’t meet with the other homeowners on Willow Road until this afternoon) did have something in common besides their age: they were all in the same class at Wedlock Creek Elementary. And Allie’s sister Merry was a teacher at that school. He’d give her a call after he met with the fourth victim to get her teacherly take on the situation, then he’d meet with the teacher of the second-grade class.
The thief was looking more and more like a seven-year-old. No forced entry. None of the neighbors noticed anyone strange lurking around. Nothing of value, besides a gift, taken from any of the homes. Of course, at this point, Theo couldn’t be sure they were dealing with a pint-sized burglar whose getaway mode of transportation was likely a two-wheeler with a basket. But it was a very strong possibility.
His phone pinged with a text: Can we skip lunch? Henry’s screechy and Olivia is having a monster tantrum. See you for dinner at 6 at home?
Hmm. Interesting. She wasn’t asking him to come home to help out with the screeching and the tantrum. She was making it pretty clear she’d just see him for dinner later.
He signaled the new waitress. “You can take away the high chairs. Turns out it’s just me. And in fact, I’ll go join the guys at the counter.”
She smiled and removed the high chairs, stacking them in her arms.
“On your own for lunch after all?” Arlena asked, grabbing a pencil from behind her ear and taking out her order pad.
On his own. Interesting how he didn’t like the sound of that. He nodded, taking a seat next to Officer Gronkowsky. “I’d love the buffalo chicken potpie. And a refill of my club soda.”
“Coming right up,” she said.
For the next ten minutes, he talked and joked with his fellow officers, none of whom talked shop in public, of course, and it was great shooting the ole breeze with this group, most of whom he’d known for years. Two he hadn’t known two years ago—Detective Barelli and Monkler, a rookie. But it felt damned good to be sitting with his peeps, who understood without saying a word.
After the best potpie he could remember having, Theo settled up and said goodbye to t
he officers, who were heading back to the PD. In his car, he called Mandy Pearlman and asked if now would be a good time for him to meet with her about the gift stolen from her home. She wasn’t available until two thirty, so he killed some time by going over his notes and driving through the neighborhood where all the thefts took place.
At just before two thirty, he parked his car on the street and tried to envision the perp-kid’s path. The kid came from left or right on his bike, zipped in through the driveway and beyond to the side door, found it unlocked—which was often the case in Wedlock Creek—slid in, looked under the tree for a gift marked for a kid in his class, ran out, stuffed the gift in his basket, covered it with a towel or something like that and made off.
Suddenly it didn’t seem so likely. How would a seven-year-old know no one was home? How had he gotten lucky in that department four times? How could no one have seen him run out with the gift?
All the thefts were known to have happened between three and five thirty in the afternoon, which made the seven-year-old theory more plausible. Those were prime kid hours for playing after school, riding bikes, even in December. It was cold out, but the streets and sidewalks were clear of snow. The other house targeted on this street was just a few doors up. And the other two houses were just around the corner.
The thief lived in the neighborhood. Two houses a street? Perhaps Redwood Road, which opened from Oak Hill, would be next. A stakeout might be in order tomorrow at 3:00 p.m.
He got out of his truck and headed up the porch steps to 45 Willow. A little girl with two red braids opened the door, her mother behind her.
“You’re not a policeman,” the girl said with a frown. “Mommy said a policeman was here.”
Theo kneeled on the doorstep. “Actually, I am a police officer. I’m just not in my uniform right now.” He was about to pull his badge from his pocket to show her, then remembered he didn’t have it back yet.
“Oh,” the girl said. “Somebody stole my brother’s ant farm and it was supposed to be from me.” Tears misted her eyes.
“I’m very sorry about that,” Theo said. “Tell you what. I have some questions to ask your mom and then I’ll do my best to catch the thief.”
“Hi, I’m Mandy Pearlman,” her mother said, extending her hand. She turned to the girl. “Sweetie, why don’t you go play quietly in your room while I talk to the policeman, okay?”
The girl scampered off, and Theo followed Mrs. Pearlman into the living room. He sat across from her on a love seat facing a sofa. The Christmas tree was in front of the window.
“Why don’t you start with when you noticed the gift was missing from under the tree?” Theo said.
“It was just after five o’clock. I’d just gotten home with the kids—I’d picked up my seven-year-old and then he had a karate class. The minute the kids ran through the door, they went straight for the tree to see if any new presents were there. With only a week to go till Christmas, they’re a little obsessed.”
“Understandable.” Karate class. Something poked at his memory, and he flipped back in his notebook. Yup, there it was. Three other seven-year-olds were also in karate and had been at the class with either mom or dad when the thefts likely occurred.
And who would know who had karate on what days? A kid in their class.
“We’re the fourth house that’s been robbed,” Mrs. Pearlman said. “Are you close to catching the burglar?”
“I have a solid lead,” he said. “I expect to have the case wrapped up by tomorrow at the latest. I can’t guarantee that, of course. In the meantime, please keep your doors locked when you’re not at home.”
“Sergeant Stark, I certainly hope you’re not blaming the victim!” Mrs. Pearlman said, lifting her chin.
Whoa. “Of course not. I just want to make it harder for the thieves, that’s all.”
She raised an eyebrow. “Well, there was a time when you didn’t have to lock your doors in Wedlock Creek.”
He nodded and flipped his notebook closed, then stood up. “I’ll be in touch,” he said and almost added a ma’am, but she was riled up enough.
He glanced at his watch. It was just after 3:00 p.m. Perhaps his sister-in-law Merry would be free to talk. Back in his truck, he pulled out his phone and called Wedlock Creek Elementary and asked for Merry MacDougal.
“What can I do for you, Theo?” his sister-in-law asked. “And thanks for the tiramisu, by the way. Lila texted me a picture of it earlier. Hopefully she didn’t eat mine, too.”
He laughed. “Least we could do, considering you paid for it. Listen, I’m calling about something sensitive, potentially involving a second-grade student at Wedlock Creek Elementary. Can we meet?”
“Yikes. Why don’t you come over to the school right now? It’s past three, but most of the teachers will be here for a while, grading and lesson planning, if you need to talk to the second-grade teachers.”
“Great. I’ll see you in about ten minutes.”
When Theo arrived at Wedlock Creek Elementary, students were running around the playground, filing into buses and being picked up by parents. It was quite possible that the pint-sized Sticky Hands was preparing his bike right now for another present swipe. But there was no karate class today, so likely the thief would take today off.
After he was buzzed in, Theo checked in with the school secretary and then took the stairs to the second level. He walked down the hall of the fourth-grade wing, smiling at the self-portraits lining the walls. In room 412, he found Ms. MacDougal putting a star on a math sheet. She put the paper in a file folder and then turned to him. “Please tell me it’s nothing serious, Theo. I’ve been sitting here grading that same math sheet for the past ten minutes.”
He told her about the case, her shoulders slumping with each sentence.
“Based on the names of two siblings I have in my class, I think the seven-year-olds you mentioned are all in Mrs. Finley’s class. She’s in room 202.”
He double-checked his notes. “All four are. So it does sound to you like we have a second-grade thief on our hands?” Theo asked.
Merry nodded. “Unfortunately.” She picked up her cell phone and pressed in a number. “Jen? Do you have a few minutes? My brother-in-law, Theo, is working a case right now for the PD and he’d like to speak to you.” She listened for a moment. “Well, it might involve a child in your class. He’ll be right down.”
“Thanks,” Theo said and headed down the hall, down the stairs, to the right, to the left and to room 202. This place was a mini maze.
He explained the case to Jen Finley, whose shoulders also slumped like Merry’s had.
“Oh, dear,” she said. She took out a schedule book. “There are seven students who take karate after school. Five boys and three girls. Oh, wait, four boys and three girls. One stopped taking the class about a week ago.”
A week ago. Right around when the first thefts occurred.
“Do you know why?” Theo asked.
“It’s very sad,” the teacher said. “Hunter Chadwell’s father died three months ago, and things have been tough financially on his mother.”
“That’s very rough on a kid,” Theo said. “Hunter Chadwell is in this class?”
She nodded.
“Does he happen to live in the Oak Hill neighborhood?”
“He does. He lives right on Oak Hill Road.”
“Have you ever seen him ride a bike with a basket?”
“Not a basket, but a crate attached to the back.”
Ah, like when Theo was a kid. “Why don’t we keep this quiet until I have a chance to talk to Hunter’s mom and interview him myself? He’s just a possibility at this point. Not even a suspect. I just have some decent circumstantial evidence.”
“Mum’s the word,” she said.
With the name and address of a seven-year-old “possibility” in his notebook, Theo l
eft the school feeling like absolute crud.
* * *
Not meeting Theo for lunch was part of Operation Give Theo Space. Olivia had truly had a monster tantrum, but she’d come out of it with fifteen minutes to spare, and Allie could have gotten the group to the Pie Diner to meet him, as planned. But the baby girl was still slightly out of sorts and Allie did think Theo could use a little breathing room.
Of course, no sooner had that thought come to her than another one had: he’d had almost two years of breathing room.
But she was dealing with the now. And if letting Theo go about his life in Wedlock Creek with a bit of distance after last night would make him more comfortable, then fine. She would.
She had plenty to do herself.
Such as cook for her client Virginia Gelman. Allie used the quads’ afternoon nap to get started on the meal for Virginia, this time for a small dinner party at her home. She’d asked for the very time-intensive beef bourguignon that had to taste exactly like Julia Child’s. According to Virginia, her very “judgy” sister-in-law and husband were coming for dinner, so the meal had to be Julia-perfect and no one could know Virginia hadn’t made it herself. The pot of beef, bacon and vegetables in the wine and stock had been cooking in the oven for almost four hours. The small kitchen had always been fine for Allie’s needs as a personal chef, but she couldn’t wait to get into that dream kitchen in the new house.
Remember that, she told herself. They would be starting fresh in a new home, a family home. Their forever home.
She’d just started sautéing the pearl onions in butter and slicing the mushrooms when she heard Theo opening the front door. As always, her heart skipped a beat.
“Wow, that smells amazing,” he said as he walked into the kitchen. “So amazing it’s all I can think about, and for that, I’m grateful.”
“Well, the bad news is that the beef bourguignon I’m making isn’t for us—it’s for Virginia Gelman’s dinner party. But I’m glad it’s taken your mind off something bad. Is it the Christmas-present case?”
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