Alex approached with her tray and smiled at Darcy. “Would you like one of Marquetta’s finger sandwiches?”
“What are you doing, Alex?” Rick asked.
“Serving food, Daddy.”
“No thanks,” Darcy said. “I don’t eat gluten.”
A movement to Rick’s side caught his attention. It was Sasha, extending a glass of punch toward Darcy. But Darcy was ignoring the girl. Instead, she smiled at someone across the room, raised her hand to wave…and bumped Sasha’s hand.
Darcy’s scream brought the room to silence.
Rick looked down at his sweater. If this thing wasn’t ugly before, it certainly was now. He wore almost the entire glass of punch.
CHAPTER 12
ALEX
I’m totally bummed out. Our plan got all messed up. Sasha was supposed to dump the punch on Miss Willoughby, not on Daddy. And now, all three of us are in a time-out. This sucks—especially ‘cause punch on a sweater doesn’t sound like a very good first story.
We’re not supposed to talk or anything, so we’re just sitting here waiting. And it’s so boring.
Daddy comes into the room with Robbie’s dad and Sasha’s mom. Uh oh, this is like, super bad. We’re in so much trouble.
“I need to talk to you, Alex. You two can go.” Daddy looks at Sasha, then Robbie. “And no more serving.”
They run to their parents and leave. Oh man, I really, really didn’t come here looking for all this drama.
“Daddy? Am I in trouble?”
“I want to know why you three were pretending to be waiters.”
This totally sucks. What if Sasha’s mom and Robbie’s dad are asking the same question? Besides, I can’t lie to my dad. We don’t do that to each other. I look down at the floor and mumble my answer.
“Look at me, Alex. What did you say?”
“I didn’t want you getting together with Miss Willoughby. Her mother wants you to marry her and…”
Daddy puts his arms around me and pulls me close. “Alex, this is just a party. You cannot control who I talk to. Do you want me telling you who you can have as friends? What if I said you couldn’t see Robbie or Sasha anymore? You wouldn’t like that, would you?”
I shake my head, and my face feels kinda hot ‘cause Daddy’s right. I’d hate it if he told me I couldn’t be friends with somebody. “I’m sorry.”
He pulls me in tighter and his voice creaks a little when he says, “I’m the one who’s sorry, kiddo. A little girl shouldn’t have to go through what you have. You’ve been a real trouper.”
I sniffle and hang onto him. My dad’s the best. He’s big and he’s strong and sometimes I forget he feels the same as I do.
“Tell you what, kiddo. It’s time for you to get back to the party. Go join your friends—or whoever you want to hang out with. Just don’t get into trouble. I have to run home to change. Somebody spilled punch all over me.”
My jaw gets tight and I sniff. “You smell like it, too.”
When Daddy leaves, I go back to Robbie and Sasha. They’re giggling about something. Sasha tells me they both got questioned about Operation Save Daddy and told the truth. Awesome, we all got off with little warnings. But now I’ve got another problem. I’m gonna need a different story. Maybe there’s something I can dig up about the people wearing the same sweater. The best place to start is with my friends.
“Why’s everybody dressed the same?”
“There’s only like three of them, Alex,” Robbie says.
“Wimpy Waldorf gave out super ugly sweaters and everybody’s talking about it,” Sasha says.
Awesome. There’s my story. “Wimpy Waldorf? Why would a lawyer do that?”
Robbie shakes his head, then shrugs. “My mom says he’s not very nice. Plus a lot of the people here are saying nasty stuff about him.”
“So all these people hate him?”
Sasha cringes like she’s just seen a spider crawling in front of her. “Ewww…ick. My mom says he’s like Mr. Slime.”
“Come on, let’s get the down-low on the sweaters.” Sasha nods and we high-five each other. I look at Robbie. “Come on, Robbie. It’ll be fun.”
“I don’t wanna spy again, Alex.”
Sasha’s got a big smile on her face. “I’ve never been a spy before.”
“I have,” Robbie grumbles. “Alex got me grounded for spying on some of the B&B’s guests.”
“You got grounded?” Sasha’s eyes get really big. “That’s like, unbelievable.” She gives me another high-five. “You got Robbie grounded. Wait ’til I tell my mom. She thinks he’s perfect.”
“You can’t tell anybody, Sasha.” I look at her real close. “This has gotta be a secret.”
“Even my mom?” Sasha scrunches up her face and her shoulders drop.
“No way. This is like top secret.”
“Cool.” Sasha grins at me. “I love secrets.”
“Oh, man.” Robbie hangs his head.
Robbie’s not always like this… Well, maybe he is. “I’m gonna need your help, Robbie. Me and you are gonna take that group over there. Sasha, you take the Hot Feet lady. Maybe she’ll tell someone why she got one of those sweaters.”
“Cool. Wimpy Waldorf, we’re gonna find out your secrets.” She takes off to hang out near the adults.
“Alex, you get me in so much trouble,” Robbie says.
I smile at him. “I know, right?”
CHAPTER 13
RICK
On his way back to the B&B to change clothes, Rick was caught in a short downpour. Despite having to wait out the rain, he was able to change and return to the party in just twenty minutes.
When he entered the Crooked Mast, Alex, Sasha, and Robbie were all standing on a makeshift stage at the front of the room. The ceremonies were being overseen by the town mayor. Francine was, as she seemed fond of doing at least once during any public event, clanking a spoon against a glass.
“Attention! May I have your attention, please?”
Slowly, the room quieted. Rick went and stood next to Joe Gray and another man who was wearing a sweater identical to Ken Grayson’s. Alex beamed as she waved to Rick. He leaned closer to Joe and whispered, “What’s going on?”
Joe pointed at the kids. “Junior category.” He winked and smiled. “That electric sweater your daughter is wearing ought to win.”
The man next to Joe grumbled, “Better than this stupid thing.”
“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Rick held out his hand. “I’m Rick Atwood. I run the B&B.”
“Dennis Malone.”
“Dennis runs Ocean Surf.” Joe chuckled and added, “It’s the hot spot for surfing fashion and paraphernalia—but not sweaters.”
From the stage, Francine cleared her throat and extended her arm toward the three kids. “Aren’t these wonderful entries? Let’s give them all a round of applause.”
Robbie appeared uncomfortable, but Sasha and Alex bowed slightly.
Francine gave the kids a polite smile, then looked out over the crowd again. “Before we present the prize for Best Christmas Sweater in the Junior category, I’d like to say a few words.”
“You sure you know how?” Joe called out.
Ken Grayson, who was learning against the wall near the kitchen entrance cupped his hands and yelled. “Yeah, when’s the last time you gave a short speech, Francine?”
Sniggers ran through the crowd, but the mayor, not one to be outdone, pasted on a smile and shot back, “I believe it was the last time you raised your prices, Mr. Grayson.”
Ken grumbled something, which earned him a couple of sharp glances from the people standing nearby, and the exchange ended.
“In all seriousness, we’ve had a great many trials over the past year,” Francine said. “Our police chief of many years has retired and we’re ushering in a new era. Rather than trusting this to the rumor mill—which we all know can be inherently unreliable…”
The crowd burst into laughter. What a crock, thought R
ick. The rumor mill was incredibly accurate thanks to sources such as Isabelle Murdoch and the mayor herself.
“Our very own Deputy Cunningham is being promoted to Acting Chief. Unfortunately, he was not able to be here this evening. There was some sort of complaint he needed to deal with. However, I’m hoping you’ll all congratulate him on his appointment the next time you see him.” Francine paused to let those at the party applaud politely, then continued. “Without further ado, the Seaside Cove Christmas Sweater Contest Organizing Committee, has chosen a winner in the Junior Category. The best Christmas sweater is…”
Francine paused and hovered around the three kids on stage.
“Geez, you’d think it was a TV reality show,” Joe whispered.
Rick nodded, but couldn’t help notice how his pulse raced.
“Alexandra Atwood!”
Alex opened her mouth in surprise and exchanged hugs with Robbie and Sasha, then turned to face the mayor, who presented her with a trophy and posed for photos. Someone brushed against Rick’s right arm and he turned sideways. Marquetta stood at his side watching Alex.
“Good choice on the sweater,” Rick said.
Marquetta’s smile lit up as Alex approached. “A little electricity and animation never hurt.”
“I won!” Alex held up the trophy for them both to see. After giving Rick a quick hug, she turned to Marquetta and said, “Thank you for helping with my sweater.”
“It was my pleasure, Sweetie. Anytime.”
A small crowd gathered around Alex to offer their congratulations. Rick stood to one side, feeling a bit awkward, even more so when Marquetta drifted away. He scanned the room and realized how few of these people he knew even peripherally. Out of everyone here, he knew perhaps a dozen of them. That needed to change. He spotted Marquetta talking to a woman wearing a sweater identical to Ken’s. He screwed up his determination and strode toward them. As he approached, Marquetta gestured at Rick and introduced him.
“Laurel Harris.” The woman smiled politely, nodded, and pointed across the room at Alex. “You have such a lovely daughter. Marquetta and I were just saying what a wonderful young lady she’s turning into.”
“Laurel runs Hot Feet,” Marquetta said.
Rick nodded. “Ah, the sandal shop on Main. I think I’ve seen you out sweeping the sidewalk a few times. Alex has been after me to get in there.”
“Come see me. I’ve got kid’s sizes.”
The tips of Rick’s ears felt hot. A moment later, he confessed his embarrassment. “Not for her. For me. She says I need new shoes. Something a little less ‘boring.’”
Laurel nodded knowingly, then smiled at him and winked. “I’ll fix you right up. No worries.” A moment later, she snapped, “Has anyone seen Thorne?”
Marquetta laid a hand on Laurel’s forearm. “What’s wrong? Why are you so angry?”
“Thorne gave me this sweater. He said something about wanting to make amends. I had no idea there were going to be others wearing the same thing. I don’t know if this is his idea of a joke or what. I’d really like to tear into him.”
“It sure sounds like he’s made enemies of almost everyone in town,” Rick said.
Laurel stared at Rick, her jaw tight, her eyes brimming with moisture. “I hate that man!” She turned and rushed out the front door.
CHAPTER 14
ALEX
The matching sweater guys, Mr. Grayson and Mr. Malone, are in the corner away from everyone else. They look super mad about something, and I totally wanna find out what it is.
“Come on, Robbie!” I grab his hand and he follows me.
Sasha is across the room kinda close to where Marquetta and my dad are talking to the Hot Feet lady. She’s pretty cool, but she doesn’t look happy either. I hope Sasha’s good at not being noticed.
“Where we going? Robbie asks.
We’re on the end of a table with a red skirt that goes all the way to the floor. The sweater guys are on the other end. I tug Robbie’s hand again and he lets out a little noise, but he follows me under the table. We crawl over to where they’re standing and I put my finger over my lips.
Robbie nods. He looks totally freaked out. I know he doesn’t want to get caught and neither do I.
“I’m telling you, he threatened me!”
I look at Robbie and whisper, “That’s Mr. Malone. Right?”
He nods.
“Look, Dennis, nobody will ever care. Not in this town.”
“My wife will care. If she finds out I have a police record, I don’t know what she’ll do.”
Whoa. Mr. Malone was arrested? This is gonna be an awesome first story for the Cove Talkers.
“You’ve got a kid now. Marianne is not going to leave you over some ten-year-old assault charge. You’re just being paranoid.”
Assault? Mr. Malone’s like super chill. I can’t even believe he beat somebody up once.
“You don’t know her. And she knows he gave me this sweater. She saw it and wondered why I wasn’t wearing the one she ordered. This is a mess. He’s got something on everyone. You, too.”
“Had. Thorne’s out of the picture.”
“No way,” Mr. Malone says. “He’s not going to stop until he’s dead.”
“I’m telling you, buddy, don’t worry about him. He won’t be a problem.”
I suck in a breath and clamp my hand over Robbie’s mouth ‘cause he’s getting all squirmy and looks like he’s gonna say something.
Mr. Malone says, “Maybe we need to bring Jordan in on this. He’s the attorney. There’s no way this can go to trial.”
I take my hand away from Robbie’s mouth and we stare at each other with our mouths hanging open. This is like totally awesome. Wimpy Waldorf is blackmailing people? Holy crap.
The conversation stops and I peek under the skirt. I can still see their feet. They haven’t left, but they’re not saying anything.
“Have either of you seen my daughter?”
Uh oh, it’s Daddy.
“No, haven’t seen her,” says Mr. Grayson.
“Me, either.”
“I just hope she’s not getting into trouble.”
“Don’t worry, Rick. You know how kids are.” That’s Mr. Grayson and his shoe is like two inches from my face. I want to back away, but if I move my dad might notice.
“If we see her, we’ll send her your way.”
Oh, man, if he finds out I’m under this table I’ll get grounded for a week. Robbie starts to squirm, and I shake my head. Under the skirt, I can see Daddy walking away. Right after he goes, the other two men leave. I let out a big sigh and sit there looking at Robbie’s face. He looks petrified.
“How do we get outta here, Alex?” he whispers.
Rats. I hadn’t thought of that.
“I dunno, Robbie. Got any ideas?”
He shakes his head.
This sucks. I am so gonna get grounded for this.
CHAPTER 15
RICK
Rick wandered over toward the food table and eyed the muffins, which he recognized as miniature versions of the ones Angus and Mary O’Donnell sold at Crusty Buns. He took a plate, plucked a muffin off the tray, and took a bite. He closed his eyes to savor the sweetness.
The voice of Mary O’Donnell jarred Rick from his moment of bliss. “’Tis a fine night for a party. Is it not?”
“That it is,” Rick said through a mouthful of muffin. He swallowed, then added, “You’re looking quite festive tonight, Mary. And these are amazing.”
Mary did a slight curtsy and bowed her head. “Thank you. Alas, those may be some of the last muffins I make.”
“Why? Don’t tell me you’re closing the bakery.”
“We’ve had thirty-two wonderful years this past August. But it may be time to hang up our aprons.”
“Thirty-two years.” Rick shook his head in amazement. He’d heard both Angus and Mary were in their seventies, but they were both as spry as could be. “Are you going to travel?”
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p; Mary shrugged and gestured across the room at her husband. “We’re undecided. Angus has received an offer on the shop. He may want to take it.” Mary’s gaze flicked away and her smile returned. “Ah, here comes Marquetta.”
Marquetta kept her arms wrapped around her as she approached.
“How about some hot spiced cider, dear?” Mary pushed a styrofoam cup into Marquetta’s hands. “I just put it out and you’re looking like you could use a little warming up.”
“Thank you, Mary. You read my mind.” She took the cup, raised it to her lips, and breathed in the rising steam. “It’s cold and wet out there.”
“How’s Laurel?” Rick asked.
Marquetta shook her head and said quietly, “It’s a tough night for her. She went home.” She took a sip of the cider, then looked at Mary and said, “You and Angus are such a delight. Are those your muffins?” She eyed the same serving tray that had caught Rick’s attention earlier.
“They are, and they’re delicious,” Rick said as he popped the last morsel into his mouth and reached for another.
“How could I refuse?” Marquetta said and took one for herself. When she bit in, her eyes closed and she murmured, “Delightful.” A moment later, she asked, “Are you ever going to share some of your recipes with me?”
“Perhaps sooner than you think, dear.”
Marquetta suddenly looked around the room. “Where’s Alex?”
“I’ve been searching for her. I see Sasha, but no Alex or Robbie. Where are those two?”
“I’m sure she’s fine,” Marquetta said, then turned back to Mary. “My mom used to take me to your store when I was little. I always got the Carrot Cake muffins because you put sprinkles on top of the cream cheese frosting.”
The old woman put her hand to her chest and her eyes misted over. “You remember all that?”
“I do. And then Mom would tell me the sprinkles were good luck and how you’d put on an extra few just for me.”
“She was right. I knew how much you loved your sprinkles. I miss your mother. Will she ever return?”
The Killer Christmas Sweater Club Page 5
