by Becki Willis
“But we haven’t been robbed, man.”
“No. The robberies have taken place either en route or inside The Sisters. It could be that someone is targeting their marks and following them home.”
“Give me a minute. I can copy the feed onto a flash drive.” He rummaged around in his desk drawer until he came up with a suitable storage stick. “You only need yesterday?”
“How far can you go back?”
“Without requesting it from corporate, seven days.”
“I’ll take the whole week, then,” Brash said.
“This will take a few minutes.”
“While we wait, maybe I could see your employee files? At this point, all I need are names and addresses.”
When Big T bristled again, Brash remembered the man faced temper issues. “Is this a formal request?”
Brash did the thing with his brows, his signature half-frown, half-arched eyebrow that effectively put players—and criminals—in their place. “No. A formal request would be much more invasive.”
“I suppose I can get you those,” Big T grumbled. “But anything more, and I have to run it by corporate.”
Brash nodded. “Understood.” Then he recanted with, “Just one other thing...”
“Coach—”
He cut off his protest. “I just need to know which of your employees is originally from Naomi.”
He jabbed a thick finger toward the screen. “Danielle Applegate. That’s her at the necklace counter, showing that guy the opal filigree.”
It came as no surprise that it was the woman he thought he recognized. He still couldn’t place her, but he had probably seen her around town.
“Do you mind if I speak with her?”
Tobey hesitated before nodding. “I’ve always respected you, Coach. You treated us all fairly and you always believed in me. I’m giving you a lot of leeway now, because of that respect. If she is free and no customers are around to overhear, you may speak with her briefly. Anything more can’t be on my dime.”
“I understand that, Tobey, and I fully respect your position.” Another glance at the monitor showed the would-be customer shaking his head in regret and moving away. “Ah, it looks like she’s free now,” Brash noted. “I’ll have a word with her while you’re finishing that flash drive.”
Speaking with the officer made the sales associate nervous, but she slowly warmed to his questions.
Yes, she grew up in Naomi. Her aunt told her about the terrible rash of burglaries. No, she had no idea some of their merchandise had been among the items stolen, but it wasn’t surprising, given the great promotions they offered. No, she hadn’t seen any overly suspicious-looking people hanging around the store. A few nervous-looking young couples, perhaps, as they gazed at the engagement rings. One blond woman who stalked a particular ring, checking in daily to see if her boyfriend had purchased it yet. Nothing uncommon for a jewelry store, she laughed. Before this job, she worked at Zale’s, so she was familiar with the patterns. She had seen nothing out of the ordinary.
With a clearing of his throat, Tobey Washington approached from behind and signaled the interview was over. “This should be everything you asked for.”
Brash pocketed the flash drive with a smile. “Thank you, Big T. I really appreciate your help.”
“No problem, Coach. I hope you find the answers you’re looking for.”
“I hope so, too.” Brash cast a baleful glance at the ring counter, where another solitaire filled the empty space he had created just the day before. His voice turned mournful. “More than you can imagine.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
Madison tucked the present under the tree amid the other colorful packages. This paper, the brown craft with camo wildlife silhouettes, was for Brash. Finding just the right gift for the special man in her life was difficult, but she thought she had finally pegged it.
With everyone else in bed, she took a few moments to soak in the silence. Even in a house this big, it was hard to find time to herself. She turned off the overhead lights and curled up in a chair, enjoying the lights from the tree.
This was their family tree, the one strewn with popcorn garland and a mishmash of favorite ornaments. The formal tree was in the ladies’ parlor near the foot of the stairs, visible from the street through the front windows of the old mansion. That tree was decked out in shiny silver and gold. Simple and elegant.
But this tree was better. It had no theme, no rhyme or reason. The paper handprint cutouts, now impossibly small, were from the twins’ earliest years. Scattered among the branches were personalized ornaments marking their obsessions at the moment: Barbie dolls, race cars, Power Rangers, Furbies, Beanie Babies, Buzz Lightyear. As the twins got older, the ornaments became more refined. Cell phones, a blinged-out megaphone, the mini football jersey with Blake’s number on it. It was like a time capsule, hanging from the limbs of her Christmas tree.
There were tiny smiling faces in festive frames. Some were hers, some were Gray’s. There were ornaments from her parents, sent from whatever faraway land they inhabited at the time. Souvenir ornaments picked up while on vacation. From where she sat curled beneath an afghan, Madison spotted a bauble from Disneyland, another from Colorado, the maple leaf from Vermont, the sand dollar from Galveston. The hot-air balloon blown from glass, depicting the day Gray proposed to her. Once upon a time, it was her favorite ornament of all, and each year, she and Gray took turns re-telling the story as they chose its place of honor upon the tree. This year, she had hesitated as she took it from its tissue. The memories surrounding it were now bittersweet. But Bethani had been watching her as she unwrapped it, and she had seen the sadness in her daughter’s eyes. With a breath of courage, she had chosen a discreet and out-of-the-way limb for its temporary home. The gesture gained a watery smile from Bethani and a prick to her own heart.
More than a time capsule, Madison decided, this was her life, displayed among a thousand twinkling lights.
Her eyelids grew heavy and she began to nod off. Just before the old grandfather clock struck midnight, the doorbell rang. Madison jerked to attention, wondering who could be coming to call at such an hour.
Her first thought was of Bethani and Blake. Had there been an accident? But no, they were both in their rooms; if not asleep for the night, at least safe and secure. Genny, too, was tucked away in her corner suite.
Brash? He would have texted before coming over.
Worrying that something had happened to Granny Bert, Madison hurried to the door. She peered out the tiny peephole and let out a squeal. She couldn’t open the massive door quickly enough.
“Mom? Dad? What are you doing here?” she cried.
“Merry Christmas, baby girl!” Charlie Cessna boomed as he wrapped his arms around her.
“Surprise!” her mother chirped, worming her way into the embrace.
They were all talking at once, a mingle of laughter and exclamations and tears.
“I can’t believe you two are here! You never said a word!”
“Oh, baby girl, it’s been too long! You look great.”
“I love what you’ve done with your hair. Ooh, come here, you, and give your momma another kiss!”
A bleary-eyed Blake appeared on the second-floor landing. “Mom? What’s going on?”
“Blake Reynolds, is that you?” Charlie boomed. “Get down here, boy, and give your grandparents a proper welcome!” It was so like her father to show up at midnight, unannounced, and expect a party.
With a whoop, Blake bounded down the stairs. Within minutes, Genny stumbled from her room, blond hair mussed and perky pajamas slightly off-kilter. She had a weakness for cute nightclothes, and they had been one of the first things she replaced after the fire. This was one of her holiday editions, which touted something about a naughty but nice elf who bore an odd resemblance to Marilyn Monroe.
At least five minutes later, Bethani joined the melee from her third-floor reign. “What is all the noise down here?” she grumbled. The
n she caught sight of the grandmother she hadn’t seen in three years, other than on Skype. “Happy? Is that you? Grandpa Charlie? You’re supposed to be in Africa!”
“Surprise, Bethi-boo! Christmas came early this year. Now come down here and join the party!”
The party lasted until almost dawn. Genny pulled together middle-of-the-night omelets and pan toast, Bethani served Chunky-Charlie cookies (made earlier in the day for their Cookie Campaign) and Charlie kept them all entertained with tales of their missionary adventures.
While the twins and her mother hung on his every word, Madison studied her father. The years had been kind to Charlie Cessna. At first glance, he didn’t look a year over fifty. His hair was still streaked with natural-blond highlights, with no gray in sight. He wore it long, pulled back and secured by a leather string braided with beads. Always in excellent physical condition, he may have put on a few pounds as he neared sixty, but he still struck a handsome pose. She noticed a few more lines fanning out from his laughing blue eyes, a few new age spots on his work-roughened hands. Madison knew that most people didn’t classify his past careers as ‘work.’ Being in a rock band, driving race cars, and working as a stunt man sounded more like play to most people, but when Charlie Cessna did something, he gave it his all. Those callouses came from being the best at whatever he did, and doing it twice as hard as the next person. The only thing he never quite mastered was being a father.
No longer feeling any malice toward her parents for abandoning her, Madison smiled as her father told one outrageous tale after another. She knew to take anything her father said with a grain of salt. He told a story about facing down an angry mob of fifty natives in the jungles of Africa. She guessed the truth to be a dozen disgruntled locals, somewhere outdoors. Still, the tale was entertaining and had his audience sitting on the edge of their seats. Even her mother waited on bated breath to hear the outcome of the story.
Allie Cessna, known to her grandchildren as Happy, had aged a bit more than her husband. She was still a beautiful woman, trim of the waist and full of the buxom, but the harsh elements were taking their toll upon her skin. Too much time in the sun had turned her wrinkled and brown, but it didn’t diminish her looks. Her eyes still twinkled with a smile and her words still came out on hushed breath, giving her a little-girl charm in an antique body. With her long, flowing gray hair and her gypsy-style clothes, she looked more like a flower child than a grandmother.
Her parents had married young and had their one and only child long before either were mature enough to handle parenthood. If she were being honest, Madison doubted her parents would ever be mature enough for that particular challenge. They were both free spirits that could not be tamed. She hadn’t understood at the time, but leaving her with Granny Bert had been the best thing they could have done for her.
“What about Granny Bert?” she belatedly thought to ask. “Does she know you’re home?”
“We went by there first. She shooed us out after a while, saying she had a big day tomorrow.”
“Yes, the Christmas parade. In fact, if we don’t go to bed now, there’s really no sense.” Already the first rays of light feathered the dark sky with pale color.
“Guess we have kept you up all night,” Charlie said, a rare sheepish smile upon his face.
Madison hugged her father. “That’s okay, Dad. Having you and Mom home for Christmas is worth the sacrifice.”
***
All too soon, her alarm clock blared its wakeup call. Madison rolled over with a groan and hit snooze. Five minutes later, she dragged herself out of bed and into the day.
The Annual Sisters Christmas Parade alternated its route each year, so that both towns took turns hosting the event. This year, the lineup started in Naomi and wound around to its conclusion in Juliet. Two horse-drawn covered wagons, the horn section of the high school marching band, the Cowboy Church’s mounted choir, a Girl Scout troop, a spattering of festively adorned golf carts and ATVs, three of Jimbo Hadley’s goats fitted with reindeer horns upon their heads, and a half-dozen or so decorated trucks, some hitched with decked-out flatbed trailers, preceded Santa’s arrival on the firetruck. At the end of the route, he and Mrs. Claus entertained youngsters at the ‘North Pole.’
While Santa heard Christmas wishes and Mrs. Claus read stories and handed out treats, Madison helped in the background. She discreetly helped parents sign in to collect their Santa Sacks, which were filled with toys and much-needed necessities. According to those who helped with the event each year, this year’s list of families in need was longer than ever.
It warmed Madison’s heart, knowing she played at least a small part in making so many Christmas dreams come true. Making it even more fun, the event was almost like a family reunion. Having instilled a sense of community and generosity in her children and grandchildren, many of the volunteers were Granny Bert’s own family. Pleased to be a part of that legacy, Madison was determined to make this another yearly tradition.
As the stack of Santa Sacks dwindled, Madison spotted Brash weaving his way toward her. Instead of his usual sexy smile, his lips wore a frown. He stopped before he reached the small crowd, hanging back to remain unnoticed.
“Uhm, can you take over for me?” Madison asked her cousin Hallie.
“Sure thing. In fact, we’re almost done here. Go home and enjoy having Uncle Charlie and Aunt Allie home.”
Another glance at Brash said he wasn’t bearing good news. “Okay, thanks, Hallie. Today was fun.” She hugged her cousin and slipped away to meet her somber-faced boyfriend.
She squinted up at him in dread. “Why do I think you didn’t just drop by to see how things are going?”
He kept his voice low as he offered her a tight smile. “Because you know me too well. And you’re right.” With a heavy sigh, he said, “There’s been another robbery.”
“Oh no! What this time?”
“Allen and Mitzi Wynn. Mitzi just got home and found someone had broken in and stolen half their gifts.”
“B—But—Allen’s playing Santa Claus!” Madison sputtered in outrage.
“I know. Pretty low, huh? The guy dedicates his time to a community function and someone repays him like this.” His voice was rife with disgust.
“This isn’t like our towns, Brash. This is crazy.”
“And I intend to put a stop to it, once and for all. I’m headed out there now. Can you get free?”
“Already done. Hallie’s taking over for me.”
“Then let’s go talk to Mitzi.” He took her elbow and ushered her toward his waiting patrol car.
“Does Allen know yet?”
“No, Mitzi said there was no need to ruin the day for everyone. He’ll be done playing Santa in a half hour.”
***
At the Wynn home on the outskirts of town, Mitzi Wynn paced the living room. She broke stride long enough to open the door and usher Brash and Madison inside.
“I hope you don’t mind me bringing Madison along,” the police chief said. “I’ve called her in as a private consultant to help with our investigation.”
Mitzi answered by giving the other woman a grateful hug and a trembling smile. “Of course not! Allen and I were so pleased with the work you did for us last year, getting to the bottom of that boundary dispute with Hank Adams.” Her smile faded as she added, “Even if things did get a little hairy for a while there. Again, Maddy, I’m so sorry. We never dreamed you would be in danger.”
As always when the case was mentioned, Brash felt a rumble of unease in his gut. That was the time the drug boss had gotten away. For a moment, he wondered if last spring’s drug bust and this recent break-in were related. But how?
“Don’t be silly,” Madison assured her. “You had no idea there was a drug lab on your neighbor’s property. Even poor Hank had no idea. But please, tell us more about today’s break-in.”
Reminded of the here and now, Mitzi threw her hands into the air. “I can’t believe someone would do this! They had
to have known we would be gone this morning.”
Madison nodded in agreement. “Half the town goes to the parade, but particularly the man who plays Santa Claus.”
“That’s the thing. Not many people knew Allen was filling in for Berle Shubert this year.” She turned to pace again in frustration.
From the corner of her eye, Madison saw Brash jot down the information in his notebook. “Do you know what was taken?” she asked.
“We bought Bradley a Play Station and Connor a new basketball goal.” She paused to offer a nervous laugh. “You should have seen me getting that thing in my car! By the time I crammed in the rest of the gifts, it looked like I was moving! The woman at the drive-through laughed at me for having to drive with the window cracked. It was the only way to fit the corner edge of that thing in there.” She rubbed her forehead, aware that she was rambling. “It was the display model and already put together,” she explained. “The last one in stock. Those were the boy’s big gifts, and now they’re gone!” She ended on a wail.
“Were they already wrapped?” Brash asked.
“No. We had them hidden in the storage shed out back.”
A frown furrowed the policeman’s forehead. This was a different tactic for the thieves, searching outbuildings. He noted the new MO before asking his next question. “Was it common knowledge you kept gifts in the outbuilding?”
Despite the situation, Mitzi found a playful smile to brandish his way. “We have two teenage sons. We hid gifts in the one place they would never think to look—behind the lawn mower and the chain saw.”
“Were those taken?”
She shook her head. “Only the gifts.”
“Was anything else stolen, besides the PlayStation and the basketball goal?”
This time, she nodded. “All the gifts we had in the shed, none of them wrapped. There was a large framed print for my mom, a Weed Eater for my dad, a little trike-thing for our niece.” She touched her forehead again, thought for a moment, and named off one or two more items.
