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Missing in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 9)

Page 4

by Meg Muldoon


  “Let’s hear it for the Sheriff, too,” Wes said, addressing the crowd. “I think I speak for just about everyone here when I say that Pohly County is really lucky to have a man like him taking care of Christmas River and the rest of the county.”

  The crowd erupted into a big round of clapping. Daniel looked down, smiling, obviously a little uncomfortable. He waved, then quickly stepped down from the table, trying to quash the moment before it could go on any longer.

  I suddenly realized that I was beaming more than the face of a harvest moon.

  Pohly County was lucky to have Daniel.

  And so was I.

  Chapter 8

  “Sheesh. More books about Christmas Flynn and the bank robbery treasure?” I said, holding onto the dresser for balance while kicking off my heels.

  The small stack of books on Daniel’s nightstand had turned into a towering one since I had last been back home, and all the books appeared to be about one subject, and one subject only:

  Famed 1930s-era bank robber Leonard “Christmas” Flynn.

  Daniel fell onto the bed, placing his hands behind his head and stretching out. He crossed one boot over the other.

  “Well, that’s just what happens when a man’s woman is away for too long,” he said, his voice inflecting with a slight sing-song tone that spoke to the multiple glasses of beer he’d consumed at the party. “He buries his head in books so as not to feel the pain of her absence.”

  I smirked, plucking out a few bobby pins and letting my hair down. Then, still in my dress, I threw myself onto the bed beside him.

  “Oh, c’mon,” I said, lying on my stomach and resting my hands on his torso. “I wasn’t gone that long. I was back in Christmas River two weekends ago.”

  “Tell that to my poor, aching heart,” he said, reaching over and moving my hands to the left side of his chest. As if such things could really be told by feeling somebody’s heartbeat.

  “Maybe you’re just getting soft in your old age,” I said.

  “So what if I am?” he retorted. “A man’s allowed to miss his woman when she’s gone, isn’t he?”

  “Sure he is,” I said. “But just so you know, your heart wasn’t the only one aching.”

  I leaned over, kissing him lightly on the lips, feeling that familiar electricity between us burn pleasantly in the center of my chest.

  A moment later, I pulled away. I stole a glance at the stack of books on his nightstand again.

  “This is Wes Dulany’s doing, isn’t it?” I said, nodding to the books. “He’s filling your head with all of this.”

  Among other things I’d learned about Wes since he’d become Daniel’s best friend this summer, I’d discovered that the Search & Rescue volunteer was a big local history buff.

  “Well, you can’t deny that it is an interesting story, Cin,” Daniel said. “I mean, it might have happened over 80 years ago in this area, but it’s got everything a good story should have. Intrigue, romance, crime… and a treasure worth hundreds of thousands of dollars that’s still yet to be found. What’s not to like?”

  His eyes lit up slightly as he spoke.

  “You know, Wes swears everything Christmas Flynn stole from the banks in the 1930s is out there somewhere in the Christmas River National Forest. He’s been studying every book ever written about the robberies, and he said he’s convinced that the gold is somewhere in the woods.”

  “Is that what the two of you were talking about tonight?” I asked.

  After Daniel’s speech, the two of them had been hanging out by the beer kegs the remainder of the evening, drinking a healthy helping of beer and talking long after the rest of the volunteers had started trickling out and heading home.

  “Well, now that the major part of the Search & Rescue season is over, Wes and Angie are taking a vacation and hiking the portion of the Pacific Crest Trail that goes through the Christmas River National Forest. Wes says he’s planning to do some treasure-hunting along the way based on his research.”

  I scoffed.

  “He really thinks it’s out there?”

  “He’s certain it is,” Daniel said.

  “And what do you think, Professor Brightman?” I asked, resting my chin on his chest. “What’s your professional opinion on the topic?”

  He smiled slightly.

  “Well, I’m not an expert like Wes is, but I could see it a few different ways,” he said. “Seems to me that the treasure could easily have been lost to history. Somebody came across it and quietly took it without anybody knowing. Or it might have all been just a legend to begin with. A myth that people perpetuated because it’s fun to think that there’s a fortune out there somewhere.

  “Or, I guess it really could be possible that Wes is right. And that Leonard hid the gold so well that nobody’s been able to find it all these years.”

  Daniel smiled.

  “And if that’s the case, then let’s hope that when Wes finds it, he remembers who his friends are.”

  I smirked, patting him on the chest.

  “I’m surprised you’re not going out there with them this week,” I said. “Seeing as how obsessed you’ve become with the subject.”

  His eyes drifted up to the ceiling.

  “They invited me,” he said. “But going would have meant I’d be missing out on something important.”

  “Yeah?” I said, raising my eyebrows. “And what’s that?”

  He looked back at me, his eyes searching mine with a sudden intensity.

  “Being with you,” he said.

  I felt my heart melt a little bit.

  He rubbed the side of my arm and then drew me closer to him.

  “There’s been something I’ve wanted to tell you all night. Only, Wes was talking my ear off, so I didn’t get a chance to.”

  “Oh yeah?” I said, taking in a deep breath, savoring the familiar smell of his skin.

  “Cin,” he said, holding me closer and gazing into my eyes. “I’m so proud of you. I’m so proud of what you’ve done this summer. I’m so proud of your guts for taking that leap and chasing down your dream.

  “But I’m not going to lie and say that I didn’t miss you like hell these past few months.”

  I felt my cheeks burn red as a kind of fire welled up in my chest at hearing his heartfelt words.

  Like I’d said before – I wasn’t any good at taking compliments. I didn’t know exactly what to say in response.

  So I let my heart do the talking for me.

  I leaned over, kissing him softly and slowly. Feeling his arms close in around me as the passion built up and swept over us like a gentle rolling wave.

  “I missed you, too, Daniel,” I whispered as he reached for the lamp on the nightstand, flipping the switch and letting the room fall into moonlit shadows.

  “I’m so glad you’re back home, Cin,” he whispered back.

  It was hard enough going after a dream.

  But with that steady, loving, unflinching support that Daniel always gave me without fail, I never felt like I was chasing that dream alone.

  Chapter 9

  I stood out on the back deck of the pie shop, gazing at the familiar pines swaying in the crisp morning breeze. I took a sip of hazelnut coffee from my ceramic gingerbread man-shaped mug, and watched as a fiery September sun rose up through the trees. A moment later, the entire forest was aflame with the new day.

  I took in a deep, greedy breath of fresh air, glancing down at Huckleberry and Chadwick on the deck. Huckleberry, my sweet-as-could-be Australian Shepherd, lay on his side, sleeping. His paws twitched to the tune of some dream that no doubt involved meaty, juicy steaks and unlimited tins of fresh pie. Meanwhile, Chadwick, my rescue cocker spaniel, was curled up in a ball, looking up at me with big, expectant eyes. Probably wondering when the first batch of pies would be coming out of the oven, and whether I would give him a slice as penance for all the time I’d been away this summer.

  I smiled back at him – he wouldn’t have to wait lo
ng. The warm, buttery aroma of flaky pastry and bubbling fruit drifted out from the kitchen, perfuming the air in a dreamy, subtle kind of way.

  I took another sip of coffee, then let out a content sigh.

  I had missed these peaceful mornings.

  Portland was a great town, and with Mt. Hood gracing its skyline, it had more pretty scenery than most cities. But in my book, there was no place quite like these woods. Nothing quite like the way my pie shop smelled. Nothing quite like my music playing from the speakers in the kitchen, or the Christmas lights strung up and flashing on the walls. Nothing like being home with my friends and family and lovable pooches. Nothing quite like—

  There was an abrupt rap on the window pane behind me.

  I turned around to see a woman with long blonde hair, aviator-style sunglasses, and a big, mischievous smile standing in my pie shop kitchen.

  I grinned brightly, reaching for the door knob. A moment later, I gave my best friend a massive bear hug.

  “Oh my gosh, it’s so good seeing you!” I said, pulling away after a moment. “How was the trip?”

  Kara lifted her shades. She looked youthful and vibrant, and only a slight inflammation beneath her eyes betrayed the fatigue she must have felt after a redeye flight and a week-long small business conference in Las Vegas.

  “Fan-tas-tic,” she said, the word coming out like molasses on a cold morning. “I only lost $30 at the roulette table in total, and I played every night I was there, Cin.”

  She beamed like she’d won the lottery.

  But I supposed spending an entire week in Vegas and only losing three Alexander Hamiltons was something to be proud of.

  “And the conference? How was that?” I asked, moving into the kitchen and making my way over to the plump toddler who’d arrived with the blonde lady. The little girl was swinging her legs on a chair, and I gave her a loud, smacking kiss on the head. She giggled when I did, her curly blond locks bouncing with glee.

  I smiled.

  Laila Mae Billings was getting cuter with each passing day – which surprised me every time I saw her, considering she was already the cutest baby I’d ever seen.

  “The conference was also fan-tas-tic,” Kara said, dragging the word out again. “But I’ll be honest – I started missing home less than an hour after getting off the plane in Vegas. Did you know this was the longest I’ve been away from Laila?”

  “I imagine that was rough,” I said.

  “You can ask John. I was calling him nearly every half-hour checking up on the two of them. I was afraid that Laila’s entire world would fall apart because I was gone.”

  I went over to the coffee maker and grabbed a fresh mug from off one of the shelves. I poured my best friend a steaming cup of joe, adding plenty of creamer to it and two and a half sugars – just the way she liked it. I handed the mug to her.

  “Well, Laila’s looking pretty happy and healthy to me,” I said.

  “Yeah,” Kara said, nodding gratefully as she took the coffee. “I guess I’ve got to come to terms with the fact that my baby’s growing up. And she doesn’t need me as much as she used to.”

  Kara gazed at the blonde toddler wistfully, and an odd expression drifted across her face. She looked as though she was contemplating the day when Laila would be so old, she’d be living on her own and would hardly need her mom at all anymore.

  I smiled to myself.

  “She’s not even two years old,” I said. “She’s going to be needing you for a long, long time, Kara.”

  “I know,” she said. “It’s just… it all goes so fast, Cin. It feels like it was only yesterday that I was holding a brand new baby in my arms. And now look at her. She’s growing by the minute. Soon enough I’ll be looking into preschools. Then elementary schools. Then, before you know it, college.”

  She let out a sigh, taking a sip of her coffee. Meanwhile, I stole a glance at the two of them, thinking about how good it was to see my best friend and her daughter, who I both loved dearly.

  Between my visits to Portland, and her conference and summer vacation in South Dakota with Laila and John, I hadn’t seen very much of Kara this summer. It had been ages since we’d just had a cup of coffee together and chatted.

  “But that’s enough whining out of me,” she said, snapping out of her daze. “How was this last Portland trip, Cin? I had John record your interview on Good Morning, Oregon, but I haven’t had a chance to watch it yet. How’d it go?”

  I stood up again, going over to the refrigerator.

  “Excellent,” I said. “Everything went really great. Right up until the Escape broke down up at the pass yesterday on the drive home.”

  She placed a hand over her mouth.

  “Oh, no.Really?”

  I nodded.

  “I was lucky, though. A Good Samaritan stopped to help and let me use his phone to call Daniel. The final bill for the tow and mechanic wasn’t that pretty, but it could have been worse.”

  “Aw, sorry to hear that, Cin.”

  “Yeah,” I said, turning around to look at her for a moment. “Oh, before I forget, I wanted to ask you: Have you ever seen a man in town who’s 65 or so with stringy shoulder length hair? He’s about six-foot, and he’s got a big white scar running down one of his cheeks. He walks with a limp, too.”

  “No, I can’t say that I know anybody matching that description,” she said after a long moment of contemplation. “I think I’d remember someone who looks like that. Sounds a little scary-looking, if you ask me. How come you’re looking for this guy?”

  “He’s the one who helped me yesterday up at the pass,” I said, opening the fridge. “But he took off before I could thank him properly.”

  “Jeez, that must have been kind of a jarring experience to break-down up there and then have a dude looking like that stop.”

  I shrugged, finally locating the pie tin I was looking for in the fridge and pulling it out.

  “Well, as that old saying goes, you can’t judge a book by its cover,” I said. “And anyway, I got to the Search & Rescue party on time, and everything was okay. All’s well that ends well.”

  A smart-ass grin spread across Kara’s face.

  “Wow – you are just full of bad clichés this morning, aren’t you?”

  I clicked my tongue at the unexpected, sharp-witted jab.

  “Oh, why don’t you just stuff it?” I finally said in a playful tone.

  Kara’s eyes lit up when she caught sight of the creamy, pale yellow-colored pie in my hands.

  “Gladly, Cin,” she said, her full lips spreading out into a happy grin. “If it’s a Lemon Gingersnap Pie you’ve got there, then I’ll gladly stuff it.”

  I giggled. Then I cut us two slices of Kara’s favorite pie and plated them, pushing the larger one toward her along with a fork and a napkin. She reached for the utensil before it was hardly across the table, and dug into the creamy lemon pie, stuffing a big heap of it into her mouth.

  I followed her lead – but with a smaller forkful. After a moment, I caught her looking at me with a faraway, happy expression.

  “I sure did miss this, Cin,” she said.

  I knew she was talking about more than just the pie.

  Chapter 10

  “So later today, I’ll call Valley over at the florist’s and place the order for the sunflowers and white roses,” I said, pulling a pan of bubbling Peach Maple Syrup Pecan pies from the oven. “And then I’ll also give Jocelyn Kirkpatrick a call and see what her rates are. I’ve heard she’s the best wedding photographer in Pohly County, and she’s supposedly very reasonably priced, too. She should be a lot better than that uppity photographer who gave you that outrageous quote a few minutes ago.”

  I placed the pan of pies down on one of the counters and then shut the oven. I turned around, dusting my hands off on my apron as I did so.

  Tiana was rolling out a series of pie dough rounds, looking a good deal less-stressed than she had been a few minutes earlier when she’d come into the kitc
hen from her break. She’d been flustered and panicked then, looking like the fire department had just told her that her house had been destroyed in a fire. But I had known things weren’t quite as grave as all that – because I recognized the panic well enough. It was the kind of look that only stressed-out brides got when they’d been slapped with the sticker shock of some over-priced wedding necessity.

  “That would be so incredibly helpful if you could call them, Cin,” she said, pausing and placing a hand over her chest. “You don’t know what a time I’ve had of it finding a good florist. Not to mention a photographer who doesn’t charge an arm and a leg for their business. Or a wedding dress that actually fits and doesn’t require a million appointments with the alterations specialist…”

  She trailed off.

  “No need to explain it to me,” I said. “I nearly lost my mind planning my own wedding. I guess it was just pure luck that I was able to make it down the aisle at all.”

  The edges of her lips turned up slightly and a look of relief suddenly washed over her face. After a moment, she shook her head silently.

  “I don’t know why any of us have to go through these stupid things,” she said, letting out a long breath. “What’s the point of any of this if Tobias is going to say ‘I Do’ to a corpse on our wedding day? Because that’s exactly what I’m going to be if things continue this way. That, or in the state loony bin in Salem.”

  I smirked at Tiana’s biting sense of humor.

  Planning a wedding was most certainly not easy. And I doubted if there was a bride alive on the planet who hadn’t lost some weeks off of her life while planning her nuptials.

  But deep down, despite the stress, I was sure that Tiana didn’t think the wedding was stupid, and that at least a small part of her was excited for the big day.

  After Tobias had proposed to her back in May, the two had set a date for the middle of October. They planned to get married in a small ceremony on a nearby farm with close friends and family in attendance.

  I’d been beyond thrilled when I heard the news that the two of them planned to tie the knot. After all, I liked to think that I had played a major role in bringing them together.

 

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