The Sierra Files Box Set: Books 1-3: Plus a bonus Christmas novella!

by Christy Barritt

  “I know, dear. I know.” She patted my arm. “I’ve got to go finish stringing up a few more lights. Chad, can you help?”

  Chad glanced at me one more time. “Of course. Are you going to be okay, Sierra?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I’m just going to go walk to the reindeer pen again.”

  I needed some time alone to think.

  “Oh yes, take it easy, darling,” Paula said. “You don’t want to push yourself too hard.”

  I trudged back toward the stables, trying to sort out my thoughts. What was I missing? Was there some angle I hadn’t considered? A suspect I hadn’t pondered?

  It had to be the sheriff. He was the only one who made sense. Besides, he acted like he was hiding something. But where would Sheriff Orlando have taken the reindeer? And why would he risk his career for this?

  As I paused by the fence, I saw Uncle Paul walking my way. His shoulders looked tight, and even from where I stood, I could see the deep lines around his mouth and forehead. I wondered if he’d gotten bad news about the reindeer. I hoped not.

  “Hi, Uncle Paul.”

  He stopped beside me. “Sierra. I was hoping to find you out here.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  He rubbed his beard a moment and sucked in a deep breath. “I just got back in from town. I ran into Sheriff Orlando.”

  I crossed my arms and scowled, remembering my earlier conversation with the man. The sheriff must have shared that I’d been trespassing. There was nothing like having a blabbermouth for sheriff. “I guess he told you?”

  Paul’s frown deepened. “Yes, he did.”

  “That man has a lot of nerve. I just don’t trust him.”

  “He told me that you’re an animal rights activist.”

  My thoughts crashed, nearly shutting me down for a moment. “Did he?”

  “I have a question for you, Sierra.”

  “Sure. Anything.” Anxiety grew in my stomach. Something didn’t feel right, but I was trying not to read too much into things.

  “You got to our house early, right? While the rest of us had gone into town?”

  I nodded. “That’s correct.”

  He shifted, looking like a weight pressed on his shoulders. “I don’t want to start any trouble in the family. But Sierra, I have to ask this. Did you have anything to do with the reindeer disappearing?”

  Chapter Eleven

  All the blood drained from my face. “No, I didn’t have anything to do with this. I promise. I would never do that to your family.”

  I wanted to explain how I’d bent over backward in order not to offend anyone. I’d even eaten broth made from the meat of animals! I’d tried to rescue animals only so they could be put back into captivity. Didn’t he see the sacrifice that required from me?

  “I don’t want to think the worst in anyone,” Uncle Paul continued. “I really don’t. But I know about Paws and Furballs and all of their past campaigns.”

  “This isn’t one of my campaigns, though. You’re family.” Panic started to rise in me.

  “I found this in your vest pocket.” He held up the bell I’d found downtown. “I wasn’t going through your things, but I went to hang it up after it fell off the hook by the front door. The bell fell out when I did.”

  “I can explain that. I found it on the ground when I was walking around. I thought it was litter so I picked it up.”

  “It belongs to my reindeer. They all wore bells.”

  “I had no idea. I promise you. I just found it. You’ve got to believe me.”

  He frowned. “I want to. I really do. It’s just that nasty email you sent us. It makes me see a different side of your personality, makes me think you’re hiding something.”

  “Nasty email? I’ve never sent you any nasty emails.” What in the world was he talking about?

  “Well, your company has. They’ve sent emails about the reindeer to Paula and I, and I just received one today about my company, as a matter of fact. Imagine my surprise when your name was on it.”

  “Your company?”

  “Good Day Fishing Hooks.”

  I gawked, feeling like I’d been punched in the gut. “You own Good Day Fishing Hooks?”

  “I thought you knew?”

  I shook my head. “I had no idea. And Paws and Furballs didn’t send you any letters. A man named Sam Bills sent them. He’s one of our supporters and he used our name in the letter, but we did not endorse it.”

  His tepid gaze met mine. “I suppose you have an excuse about the email I got a few minutes ago also?”

  “My assistant must have drafted it, but she wasn’t supposed to send anything. You’ve got to believe me! I had no idea that was even your company.”

  Paul looked at me, hurt and accusation evident in his usually jolly eyes. “I just hope for Chad’s sake that you didn’t have anything to do with this. It would break his heart.”

  As he walked away, I sagged against the fence, unable to ignore the implications of what had just happened. How could they think I’d be behind this? Then I remembered my past escapades. I supposed if this wasn’t Chad’s family then there might have been a slight possibility I would do something like this. I had done some crazy things before, even freeing crabs at an oceanfront restaurant once.

  Only adding to my dismal thoughts was the fact that the song on the overhead switched from “Joy to the World” to “You’re a Mean One, Mr. Grinch.” I felt like the Grinch at the moment.

  I knew I had no choice but to leave here. It wasn’t that I wanted to run away. But I wouldn’t be welcome any longer.

  Sadness pressed on my heart at the thought.

  So much for my dreams of fitting in with the family.

  How was I going to break this news to Chad? And why hadn’t he told me about Good Day Fishing Hooks?

  There was one thing I had to settle in my mind before I left. I pulled out my cell phone. I had to know if Cindy sent that email. Thankfully, she answered on the first ring.

  “Cindy, please tell me you didn’t send anything to Good Day Fishing Hooks?” I started, despair evident in my voice.

  “Of course not. You told me not to without your approval.”

  “The owner said he received correspondence from us today.”

  “Oh, Sierra. I didn’t send anything.” Computer keys tapped in the background again. “See, there’s the email right there in my draft fold—” She gasped. “Oh my goodness. It’s not in my draft folder anymore. Somehow I accidentally sent it, Sierra. I’m so sorry. I have no idea how this happened.”

  “Cindy, I understand you’re sorry, but this has caused an avalanche of other issues.” I sighed and shook my head.

  “I’m so sorry, Sierra. I really am. I’m flabbergasted at this mistake!”

  “Don’t worry about it, Cindy.” My voice sounded as dull as I felt. “I need to run. We’ll talk about it later.”

  I shook my head, unable to believe my horrible luck. There was nothing I could do about it now, though.

  I glanced in the distance at everyone as they laughed together and continued to string lights. My heart lurched and ached. I wished things had turned out differently.

  I gave one last glance down at the tire tracks by the gate. I still didn’t understand how someone had driven through town with those reindeer without anyone seeing anything.

  What was I missing?

  I froze.

  What if that was because no one had driven through town? Or through the back roads even, for that matter?

  What if someone had simply released them into the wild? I supposed that was a possibility, though part of me sensed that the animals would have returned. This property was their source of food, and they’d likely gravitate back toward the area for that reason alone, if nothing else.

  I squatted down one more time. In between the gravel, I spotted a speck of white. I carefully pulled it out.

  Popcorn, I realized.

  I glanced up at the mountain as it stretched u
pward into the sky. Staying low to the ground, I walked away from the gate.

  Sure enough, a few more feet away, I found another piece. This one looked like it was caramel flavored.

  The reindeer’s favorite. That’s what Aunt Paula had said.

  As I reached the edge of the woods, I paused and squatted. There, underneath some underbrush, was yet another piece of popcorn.

  Strange.

  Why was there popcorn out here?

  I gazed around. In the distance, I spotted more pieces. What was this? A spinoff of the candy trail that Hansel and Gretel had left?

  I didn’t know.

  Despite that, I found myself following the line of popcorn. I had to see where it led.

  Chapter Twelve

  I paused to look back as I neared the crest of the mountain. I was farther away from the house than I’d expected to be. I didn’t want to wander too far from the property. Honestly, part of me just wanted to get out of town. But first I had to see where this trail led.

  Before I turned back around, I spotted Chad walking my way, waving me down.

  I frowned as I waited for him. When he joined me, he frowned also, his husband radar obviously kicking in.

  “What’s going on?” he asked.

  I cut right to the chase. “Why didn’t you tell me that your uncle owned a company that manufactures fish hooks?”

  His shoulders sagged. “I wanted to. I did. But I knew you’d both have bad impressions of each other. I wanted you to get to know each other first.”

  “And then form bad impressions?” I squawked.

  He shook his head, rubbing his forehead with frustration. “No, that’s not what I meant.”

  “Then what did you mean?”

  He let out a long sigh. “I’ve really messed this up. I’m sorry, Sierra. I started to tell you about my uncle’s company right before that deer appeared in the road.”

  “Uncle Paul thinks I might be behind the disappearance of the reindeer. I forgot how quickly word gets around in small towns. It’s working against me that I arrived early while the rest of you were gone. I have no alibi, I have motive, and I suppose I could have had one of my employees pull up a trailer, which would give me the means as well. I look guiltier than any of the other suspects we’ve talked to.”

  He stepped back. “I should go talk to Uncle Paul. I’ll tell him this is all my fault. If I’d just been upfront from the beginning—”

  “No, don’t. His assumptions are natural. I’m just disappointed because I wanted your family to like me.” Tears stung my eyes at the thought. I wasn’t normally a crier, but my hormones were all out of whack with this pregnancy. I could cry at commercials even, especially those sentimental ones the card companies put out. Even a coffee commercial had done me in last week.

  “Of course they like you, Sierra.”

  “Let’s be honest, Chad. I’m not the most likable person. I’m much better with animals than humans. My passion for what I do sometimes supersedes the rules of political correctness and social graces.”

  “You mean you’re outspoken sometimes?”

  I nodded. “Yes, that’s what I mean.”

  “So, you’re being yourself. You’re being who you were created to be. Some people just can’t accept people who aren’t afraid to be real.”

  I wiped the tears from my eyes. “I feel like I ruined this trip. I know you were looking forward to introducing me to your family.”

  He pulled me into a hug and rubbed my back. “Of course you didn’t ruin it. You’ve gone above and beyond. I’m the one who ruined things. I messed up royally this time.” He leaned down until we were eye to eye. “Do you want to leave?”

  Everything in me screamed, “Yes!” I did want to take off and get out of here. But I was stronger than that. “No, not until I follow this popcorn.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  I explained to him what I was doing.

  “So, you’re following a trail of food?” he clarified. “You remember what happened when Hansel and Gretel did this? Their results were less than stellar.”

  “Look, I know it sounds strange, but it’s true. It’s what happened.” I pointed to another piece. “That popcorn looks kind of fresh, don’t you think? And why is there popcorn in the woods?”

  Chad held my hand as we hiked through the mountains. It felt good to know he was by my side, even through all the misunderstandings and flub ups. He’d forgiven me for the whole incident at my family’s house, so I knew I couldn’t hold a grudge.

  “The show starts in three hours.”

  “I know it will be great, Chad, despite everything that’s happened.”

  But inside, I wasn’t sure any of it would be great. I was feeling emotional and sensitive and not like myself. Part of it may have been the pregnancy, but the other part of it was probably some fears I’d had bottled deep inside of me. Fears of not being accepted by the people who mattered. Chad’s family mattered.

  We reached the top of the incline, and I continued to see a trail of popcorn. Interesting.

  I wondered how many people knew those reindeer liked popcorn. Had someone tried to lure them away?

  “Look, the trail leads all the way down there.” Chad pointed to a clearing in the distance.

  I squinted. “Is that . . . the Nimbles’ property?”

  “You know what? It very well could be. Let’s go check it out.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Going downhill was much easier than going uphill, except for my knees, which ached under the strain of walking down the steep grade. I held Chad’s hand to keep my balance.

  We reached the edge of the tree line, and the old dilapidated barn from the Nimbles’ property appeared ahead.

  Little Charlie played on the grass there . . . jingling a bell? A bell just like the one I’d found on the ground in downtown Oldsburgh, the one that had belonged to one of Paul and Paula’s reindeer.

  Before we could say anything, the boy spotted us. I braced myself for his greeting, knowing exactly what was coming. He surprised me with, “Hey, guys.”

  Hadn’t Paula said that Charlie liked to climb up that ridge and watch the reindeer?

  Everything was becoming all too clear in my mind.

  “What’s going on, Charlie?” Chad asked, his hands going to his hips as he surveyed the area beyond Charlie.

  Guilt seeped into the boy’s eyes. “Nothing. Why?”

  I squatted down so I could look him in the eye—and maybe seem less intimidating. “Charlie, did you leave that trail of caramel corn through the woods?”

  I saw the truth in his eyes. Yes, he had left it. But, instead of owning up to it, he shook his head. “No. Why would you ask that?”

  Chad leaned down closer. “Are you sure, Charlie?”

  He nodded, his shoulders drooping. He glanced behind him at the barn, suddenly looking nervous. “Why would I do that?”

  “Maybe to lure the reindeer away from their home?” I asked.

  His chin trembled, and he dropped the bell. It hit the ground with a half-hearted jangle. “Please don’t tell the police! I don’t want to go to jail. I didn’t mean anything bad.”

  “We’re not sending you to jail, Charlie,” I assured him. “Can you just tell us what’s going on? We’ve been very worried.”

  A tear rolled down his cheek, but he quickly wiped it away and held his chin up. “I’m sorry. I just needed those reindeer.”

  “Why would you need the reindeer?” I asked, unable to imagine any reason for a child to need reindeer.

  “Because my dad doesn’t have a job. If he doesn’t find one soon, we’re going to be homeless,” Charlie said. “He hurt himself while shoveling some snow, and he can’t do construction any more. Mom always looks sad, and dad is always trying to find odd jobs, so I don’t see him a lot.”

  “I’m so sorry to hear that, Charlie,” I told him. And I was. But I’d address that in a minute. “But what does that have to do with the reindeer?”
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  “I’ve been begging Santa all year to give my dad a new job for Christmas. I thought Santa might need his reindeer early in order to go job-hunting for my dad. Santa wouldn’t be able to go anywhere if the reindeer were being kept next door.”

  Chad and I exchanged a sad smile. How could anyone be upset after they heard that explanation? It was impossible.

  “So you lured the reindeer out after you saw that everyone had left?” Chad clarified.

  “I didn’t mean any harm. I keep waiting for Santa to take them, but he hasn’t yet.” He looked up at the sky, as if he expected to see some elves and a man in a red suit suddenly appear.

  “Where are the reindeer, Charlie?” I asked.

  “They’re in the barn. I’ve been feeding them every day and taking real good care of them.”

  “Have you been feeding them popcorn?” I asked.

  He nodded. “But other things, too. Like hay. And I’ve given them water. I promise, I took really good care of them.”

  “Can we see them?” Chad asked.

  Charlie nodded again. “Sure. Follow me.”

  We followed the boy into the barn. Sure enough, there were twelve reindeer there.

  “Am I going to be in big trouble?” Charlie asked with a frown.

  I squeezed his shoulder. “I think everyone will understand when we explain to them what happened.”

  “I’m going to call my uncle,” Chad said, pacing away to a quiet corner.

  Just then, the sheriff appeared in the doorway to the barn.

  I moaned, realizing how this probably looked. I was here with the missing reindeer. The sheriff already disliked me. No one would think Charlie did this of his own freewill. I’d look just as guilty to the sheriff as I’d looked to Uncle Paul.

  I didn’t see accusation on his face, though. I saw . . . guilt?

  “You knew the reindeer were here,” I muttered.

  “I was following up on a lead.” He tugged at his shirt collar.