Yuletide Peril

by Irene Brand

  “We could see each other occasionally.”

  She opened the car door. “Which we must do if we fulfill our obligation about the fall festival. That’ll give us a lot of time together. It will be wonderful to work with you—I’ve enjoyed this evening so much. Thanks.”

  He walked with her to the door. Would he kiss her, she wondered? Should she let him kiss her on the first date? He towered over her and her heartbeat raced, but he didn’t kiss her. Instead, he cupped her face softly with his hand, and ran his fingers over her lips in a caress more intimate than a kiss.

  Chapter Eleven

  The next two weeks passed quickly as Janice worked long hours at Mountjoy. She was bone tired when she left the house each evening, but rejoiced in the rebirth of her ancestral home. Perhaps her persistence had removed some of the stigma from the house, she thought, because she was able to hire more workmen. The plumber found that most of the water lines were still usable. By the time a heating contractor had installed a new furnace, Cecil had finished his carpenter work. Janice completed and hung the curtains. On hands and knees, she’d scrubbed floors and applied wax to the clean wood. The antique furniture had been cleaned and polished. And she’d paid a paperhanger to replace all of the wallpaper.

  After the steps had been replaced, Lance helped Cecil take the antique bed upstairs to make room for the twin beds. She locked the door to the second floor because she didn’t want visitors up there until she had time to clean those rooms. She’d emptied the trunk in the downstairs bedroom and had taken the blankets and quilts to the Laundromat.

  The day before the fall festival started, all of the furniture Janice had ordered was delivered. She hung one of the quilts in the hallway and laid another one over the back of the couch. She’d already paid Cecil for his work—a bill she thought was so reasonable that she’d added an extra hundred dollars to it. While she waited for Cecil to load all of his tools and equipment into his truck, Janice walked from room to room, a satisfied feeling warming her heart.

  The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the upper window sash of the living room and Janice looked lovingly around the room. When she brought the television and her knickknacks from the apartment, the house would be complete—by far the nicest place she’d ever lived. A feeling of thanksgiving swelled her heart—gratitude to her uncle for his generosity, but also to God for helping her make the right decisions.

  Janice felt a presence in the room behind her, and she stiffened, but immediately she sensed that it was Lance. He placed his hands on her shoulders and she leaned against him.

  “Doesn’t it look pretty?” she said and Lance answered absentmindedly, “Very pretty.” He was looking at her profile in the mirror over the fireplace as it was reflected in a sunbeam. Janice had been too busy to visit a hairdresser and her hair was longer than it had been when he’d first met her. A stray brown curl had escaped the scarf she’d tied around her head. He leaned forward and kissed it.

  Janice turned to him in surprise. He grinned sheepishly as he tucked the curl under her scarf. “I was tempted—I couldn’t help myself.”

  “I wanted you to look at my furniture,” she scolded gently, but her spine still tingled from the unexpected pleasure his caress had caused. Disturbed at her inner trembling, she moved away.

  “I want to look at everything,” he said. “Give me the grand tour.”

  Lance hadn’t been to Mountjoy for over a week, and he was amazed at the improvement Janice had effected. “You have a fine home.”

  “Then you agree that it’s all right to live here?”

  “I’m not sure it is all right. There are undercurrents of unrest in Stanton. Something fishy is going on around here and Chief Goodman doesn’t know which way to turn.”

  Cecil joined them in the kitchen, shook hands with Lance and Janice, thanking her for the opportunity to work at Mountjoy. “It’s been a pleasure to work for you, Miss Janice. I hope you’re happy here.”

  “I hope so, too. I’ll expect you to paint the outside as soon as spring comes. Stop by and see me anytime.”

  When Cecil left, Janice sat at the kitchen table and motioned for Lance to sit with her.

  “I kept hoping my tormentors would give up, but I received another warning note in the mail yesterday. I can’t understand who’s trying to scare me. If it is Albert Reid and his family, they have nothing to gain. Uncle John had an addendum to his will that if I didn’t inherit, Bethesda Church would get his estate.”

  “I lie awake at night thinking about you living here alone. You must talk to Chief Goodman. I’ll go with you if you don’t want to go alone,” Lance said.

  She shook her head. “He wouldn’t believe me. Besides I don’t want his brother snooping around Mountjoy.”

  Annoyance crossed Lance’s face. “Why not? Has he given you any trouble?”

  “I don’t like the way he looks at me.”

  He relaxed visibly, thankful that the officer hadn’t crossed the line of decency. “Winston considers himself a ladies’ man, but it won’t do any good to complain to the chief of police. He thinks the sun rises and sets in his brother.”

  “I’d just as soon have a cloudy day as to have Winston nosing around Mountjoy.”

  “Janice,” he said sternly. “You must have some protection.”

  “Maybe I should bring that puppy Brooke has befriended with us. We’ve been feeding him for weeks, and he seems like an intelligent dog. I’m not used to having animals in the house, but we could make a home for him on the front porch.”

  Vastly relieved, Lance said, “You should bring him. He’s been hanging around Stanton for a couple of months. If anyone has offered a reward for return of the dog, we would know it by now.”

  “I don’t intend to move until after the fall festival, so I’ll be available to do my share of our assignment. Actually, I should do most of the work. With your job, you don’t have any free time except at night, and then I need to stay at home with Brooke.”

  “I have to go now—I have an appointment with a parent at six-thirty. If it’s okay, I’ll stop by your apartment after that, and we can decide on what needs to be done.”

  “Yes, that will be fine.”

  “The class has rented a sales wagon. Refrigeration is limited, but the wagon will be in place on Thursday. So Thursday evening, we can pick up enough supplies to fill the refrigerator. Over the weekend, we’ll have to keep in touch with the workers and be sure we get supplies to them as needed. I’d suggest that we collect the food the farthest from the festival site Thursday night. During the rest of the time, we can bring supplies from the nearest homes. We may have to buy items at the grocery store if enough hasn’t been donated.”

  “Sounds like a lot to do.”

  “It’s usually a relaxed, entertaining weekend.” He put a brotherly arm around her shoulder and squeezed her gently. “You have a nice home.”

  Lance arrived at the apartment soon after seven o’clock. Janice hadn’t considered how low the ceilings were until Lance stepped aside.

  “It’s a nice apartment.” With a glance at Brooke, who was doing her homework, he said in a low voice, “Sure I can’t convince you to stay here?”

  With a slight smile, she shook her head.

  They sat at the kitchen table and made a list of the food to be contributed. Lance gave her directions to the homes and businesses she’d have to contact, and Janice agreed to take care of all the Friday deliveries, since he would be in school. On Saturday they would go together in Lance’s car to pick up food and deliver it to the sales wagon.

  “By the way,” he said, “Linda said to tell you she’d look after Brooke on Saturday. There’ll be a carnival. Linda will stay with Taylor all the time—they’d like for Brooke to go with them.”

  Brooke was watching television, but she must have also been monitoring their conversation, because she stuck her head around the side of the chair where she was lounging.

  “Please, let me go, Janice. I haven’t
been to a carnival for a long time.”

  Janice nodded. “I’ve been wondering what to do with you while we collected food. I’m glad Linda will look after you.”

  As Lance walked to his car, he considered the sweetness of Janice’s smile. He remembered the first day she’d come to Stanton, and how he’d wondered what it would take to get Janice to smile. She smiled often now, and he believed that it was because of the friends she’d made in Stanton. In spite of the disquieting situation at Mountjoy, Janice seemed to be adjusting to the new environment. He hadn’t noticed any conceit in Janice, and he knew she wasn’t aware of how enchanting she was when she smiled.

  A worship service on Sunday night in the elementary school gym, sponsored by Stanton’s churches, closed the fall festival. Janice was on the platform with a group from the Outreach Class singing an anthem when Cecil ran into the gymnasium. He made eye contact with Janice and motioned for her to join him. She hurried to Cecil with Lance close behind her.

  “There’s a fire at Mountjoy. I called the fire department, but you’d better come right away. I think it’s that pile of brush the contractor left, but I couldn’t be sure.”

  “Ask Linda if she’ll look after Brooke for me,” Janice said to Cecil as she ran out of the building.

  “Let’s go in my van,” Lance said.

  As he rushed out of the parking lot, she said, “If that house burns after all the work I’ve put into it, I don’t know what I’ll do. It just dawned on me that I haven’t insured the house.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble,” he said, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder. They continued the rest of the way in silence, and when they rounded the curve in the road, they saw the blaze.

  “It’s the brush pile, not the house,” Lance said.

  “I’m thankful for that, but as dry as it’s been, it could spread. That’s the reason the contractor hasn’t burned the brush.”

  “The fire truck is already there,” Lance said, as the revolving lights on the truck flashed intermittently with the flames.

  The gate was ajar, but Lance parked along the highway. “Let’s walk from here, so we won’t be in the way of the firemen.”

  He took Janice’s hand and they ran toward the fire. She heard the crackling of the flames, and flying sparks pierced the darkness. Another fire truck approached, sirens blowing. The wind blew smoke in their direction. Almost suffocated, Janice gasped for breath.

  “There’s a streak of fire heading toward the house,” Janice cried, and Lance squeezed her hand.

  “It will be all right now, thanks to the quick thinking of Cecil and the response from the fire department. They’d better stop that fire snaking under the fence though. There’s a good stand of timber on the hill, and you don’t want it destroyed.”

  Lance’s thoughts were busy, thinking of how timely this fire was—when a large number of the residents were in the gymnasium. If Cecil hadn’t been coming by, the fire might not have been detected until it was too late.

  The heat was intense, and Lance halted when they were several yards from the fire. One of the firemen recognized Lance and walked toward them.

  “Quite a blaze,” Lance said, “but looks like you’ll be able to control it.”

  “Yes—as long as the wind doesn’t pick up.”

  “This is Janice Reid. She owns the property,” Lance said. “Do you know what started the fire?”

  “Not yet. But the way it was burning when we got here, I figure a match triggered the blaze.” He looked keenly at Janice. “You got any idea who might have set the fire, ma’am?”

  Janice steeled herself to avoid Lance’s eyes. “Nobody I’d want to accuse,” she said.

  A police cruiser rushed through the gate and up the driveway, sirens blaring. Janice moved toward the vehicle, but when she saw it was Winston, rather than Chief Goodman, she stopped.

  “What’s going on here?” he said importantly, striding toward them.

  “Pretty obvious, ain’t it?” the fireman said. “That pile of brush is burning and we’re trying to keep the fire from spreading.”

  “Arson, eh?” Winston said. “We’ll have to check that out. You need any help?” he asked.

  “No,” the fireman said. “We’ve got everything under control.”

  “I’ll go down to the road and keep thrill seekers out,” he said, and looking at Janice, he added, “but we’ll be on this case the first thing tomorrow.”

  “Thanks,” she said.

  After Goodman left, the fireman said, “There’s no need for you to stay any longer, Miss Reid. We won’t leave until the fire is controlled.”

  “I should go,” Janice said to Lance, “and find where Brooke is.”

  “I’ll get in touch with Linda and find out,” he said. He took his phone from his pocket and soon had Linda on the line. After a few minutes, he hung up. “She’s at your apartment, waiting until she heard from us. I told her to go on home—that’d we be there soon.”

  Driving into Stanton, they met a steady stream of traffic driving past Mountjoy to see what havoc the fire had caused.

  “Is this another attempt to drive me away?” Janice asked wearily.

  “I’m afraid so,” he answered, hardly knowing what to say. What if the next attempts would be personal attacks on Brooke or Janice?

  Janice must have been thinking along the same line, and said, “I’ll talk to Chief Goodman tomorrow morning and tell him what’s been going on at Mountjoy. He already knows about the mutilation of my tires.”

  Smothering a sigh of relief, Lance said, “I’ll go with you.”

  She desperately felt the need for his help, but she said, “Oh, don’t bother—it’s a school day.”

  “If you’ll wait until midmorning, I’ll take my lunch break and go with you. What will you tell him?”

  “Just the basics—nothing about what we suspect.”

  Since Janice and Brooke had gone with Henrietta to the worship service, Lance drove directly to their apartment. Janice checked to be sure that Brooke was all right, then she closed the door.

  “I’ll wait for you to go with me,” she said, feeling the crushing weight of despair. “I hesitate to bring my troubles out in the open, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  Lance’s strong arm went around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder, marveling that she could feel his heartbeat in steady rhythm with hers. His fingers touched her chin and lifted until their eyes met. He kissed the end of her nose and unwillingly let her slip from his arms.

  “I’ve enjoyed your company so much this weekend that I’m sorry it ended this way,” Lance said in a tender voice. “I don’t know how or when, but I have faith that you’ll be able to make your home at Mountjoy. Good night, my dear.”

  The chief of police had mixed reactions when Janice apprised him of the sounds at the house, the warning letters and the cup with the tombstone on it. At first, his face registered disbelief, then he became angry.

  “If people would stop keeping things from the police, we might not have so much crime in this county. Why didn’t you tell me about these crazy stunts?”

  His attitude annoyed Janice. “You knew that my tires had been mutilated. Have you found who did that?”

  He looked at her angrily. “No, but I’ve tried.”

  “And what can you do about these other incidents?”

  “I don’t know. Forbid you to move out there, maybe.”

  “Something you don’t have the authority to do,” Lance interjected.

  “Do you think she should move into that house?” Goodman demanded of Lance.

  “No. I’ve been against it from the first, but it isn’t my decision.”

  “Let me ask you both a question,” Janice said. “If you didn’t have a home and you inherited some property that had been in your family for over a hundred years, what would you have done?”

  Goodman grinned sheepishly. “Probably the same thing you’re doing. I shouldn’t have lost my temper, but I’m hav
ing a rough time. Drugs popping up here and there and freakish things happening to you. If I don’t solve at least one of these crimes in the next few weeks, I figure the town council will appoint a new chief of police. And I wouldn’t blame them if they did,” he added grimly.

  “Oh, it’s not as bad as that,” Lance assured him. “Stanton has had crime sprees before.”

  “But nothin’ like what’s going on now.”

  Janice stood and the chief said, “When you figuring on moving?”

  “This week. I can move all my things in two carloads, so it won’t take long.”

  “Be careful, and let me know if anything else suspicious happens. Don’t take any chances.”

  The next day, not meaning to eavesdrop, Lance overheard Brooke and Taylor talking in the hallway where they waited for Lance to finish his work and take them home.

  “Things aren’t going as I’d hoped they would,” Taylor said. “My mother won’t even talk to Dad. My grandmother comes and picks me up when I spend nights with them. And Uncle Lance doesn’t act around your sister the way he ought to if he was gonna fall in love with her.”

  Lance started to join them, but stayed in his office. If the two girls planned some outlandish scheme like they’d done before, he’d better learn about it.

  “I know,” Brooke said mournfully. “He spent two evenings in our apartment while they planned for the festival. And he never touched her. Not as much as a peck on her cheek as he was leaving.”

  “But I haven’t given up yet. Dad admitted to me that he still loves Mama, but I know he’s been out on dates. Why are parents so stubborn?”

  “I haven’t seen my parents for a long time—so I don’t know much about how they should act.”

  “I’ve thought about it a lot, and the best I can come up with is to see if I can’t trick my mother into having a housewarming for you and Janice after you move. That’ll give a reason for them to be together, now that they won’t be working on the fall festival any longer.”