BETTER WATCH OUT

by Christina Freeburn

  “It’s not necessary.”

  “I don’t want people blaming you for the late start. We held up traffic.”

  The owner told his nephew to ride in the back then got into the cab of the truck. Grinning, the nephew eyed the snowman and the metal wires. I had a feeling I knew how the ropes failed. He was someone I needed to keep an eye on, but I had a more problematic person to be on the lookout for—a murderer. An annoyed nephew who wanted to toy with his uncle just didn’t rank as high, but I couldn’t let him fiddle with the safety wires of the snowman. Someone could get hurt.

  I’d ride with the nephew to keep an eye on Frosty and get a good view of the parade crowd. It would be easier to spot Eric or anyone acting suspicious from the higher vantage point than walking. I tapped on the window of the truck.

  The owner rolled it down. “I promise the snowman is secured. I added more ties to it and am using metal instead of ropes. I swore they were in perfect condition, but the slight movement of the snowman frayed them.”

  “In case the metal rings pop out, how about I help your nephew make sure Frosty stays put. If there’s an incident, two people holding onto it is better than one.”

  Main Avenue was the definition of Christmas. Bright lights. Happiness. Decorations. Laughter. Trees, wreaths, and garlands were in the display windows along with gingerbread houses and other scenes that filled a Christmas heart. Except for Cornelius’s costume shop but he had moved a couple of Christmas-themed costumes in front of the windows. I was thrilled at his effort.

  Everything was perfect except for the secret lurking in the background—Jenna’s murder. A foreboding tangled into my joy, robbing a bit of it. For the first time, I understood the mixed feelings others had about the holiday that most associated with goodness, love, and hope. It was hard to focus on the joy of the season when within the boundaries was wickedness. I didn’t know how to deal with it, besides ignoring it for the time being and hoping it didn’t consume me.

  People filled every inch of the sidewalks on both sides of the street. Christmas lights hung in the trees, casting everyone in a golden hue. Children waved as we drove by. I waved back with one hand, keeping the other firmly on one of the wires holding the snowman in place. It was more from fear of me falling off the shaky trailer than from Frosty deciding it was a nice night for a second escape attempt. The nephew hid behind Frosty, trying to give him a voice and make the children on the left side of the street believe the plastic decoration was alive.

  The other side of the street had a view of the young man’s backside. A view some seemed to be extremely interested in. Since the chatty kid had told me he was twenty, I didn’t feel the need to admonish anyone.

  I was glad the young man decided to be the voice of Frosty as it gave me time to concentrate on my mission: scanning the crowd for Eric and someone acting suspicious. What did suspicious look like? Was it the man with his head tucked low like a turtle while two teenagers on either side of him held a conversation like he wasn’t even there? Was it the woman decked out like she was attending a tea at the royal palace rather than a Christmas Parade in a small town in West Virginia?

  There were too many variables to help the chief find a suspect. The only person I could lookout for was Eric. I knew what he looked like and that he always wore a red baseball cap and a denim coat with a flannel lining, which he never zipped. In the summer he didn’t wear the coat, but he always had on the cap. Spring. Summer. Winter. Fall. It was like a grown-up version of a security blanket or stuffed lovie.

  “I’m glad my aunt made me do this. It’s kind of fun.” The young guy grinned at me. “I’m Kyle, by the way.”

  “Merry Winters. The parade organizer. You didn’t want to be in the parade?”

  “Since I was here this weekend, my aunt said I needed to participate in their holiday tradition.”

  “Visiting?”

  “I started attending the community college here this fall. Not sure my uncle likes the fact I took up residence in his empty nest. Sorry about making everyone late. I told my uncle we should’ve drove the float around the block a few times to make sure the snow guy stayed on the float. He said the ties were strong enough. He’d been doing it for five years and didn’t need me to tell him how to build a float. I should’ve told him I got the idea from seeing the pastor testing out their float.”

  “Which church?”

  “The one doing the nativity. Saw it driving down the back roads, even took a few sharp turns.”

  “You’re sure it was Harmony Baptist?”

  “It’s hard to mistake the Harmony Baptist float with another. There aren’t any other ones with a manger and a star.”

  She’s done something to ruin the parade. The pastor’s earlier comment popped into my head. How did he know that Jenna was up to something? The only people who knew about Jenna’s naughty list was me, Rachel, and the mayor. I doubted Jenna had let word get out as she seemed to want to surprise the town with her design. “What time?”

  The young man shrugged. “I wasn’t paying attention too much. It was on my way home from work and it was dark. Thought it was a little strange to be out that late on the backroads, but it made sense since the parade is at night.”

  “Frosty. Frosty.” Children chanted and begged the well-known snowman to sing them his song.

  Kyle slid behind Frosty and started belting out the first verse of the song. Over and over again. It was the only part he knew.

  “Watch it!” The angry words reached me over the cheers of the children and the parents who sung along. It seemed like our town only knew the first verse.

  Another belligerent shout rose above the singing. Someone was causing some ire. Was it a possible suspect? I searched the area. A man was glaring at a figure rapidly moving through the crowd. A person wearing a red cap with the ends of the coat flapping at his sides. Eric. “Can you get your uncle to slow down?”

  Kyle stared at me, an almost shocked expression in his eyes. “We’re barely going five miles an hour.”

  “I need to get off the float.”

  His eyes widened. “Now? We’ll reach the end of the block in a few minutes.”

  I didn’t have time to explain the situation to him; I had to get to Eric Wilcox. I also couldn’t just jump off the float. We were only going about five miles an hour, but if I fell, I could get seriously hurt. I didn’t want to be incapacitated during the Christmas season.

  “Someone is pushing through the crowd. I’m responsible for keeping everything under control.” I pointed at myself. “Organizer.”

  “There’s no way to get my uncle to stop. He won’t answer his phone while driving and I can’t knock on the truck’s back window from the trailer.” Kyle stretched out his arm, showing me what I should’ve been able to figure out myself. “I could try climbing into the bed of his truck. That should get his attention.”

  And get the young man hurt. The figure wearing the red hat was moving away. Soon, I wouldn’t be able to see him in the crowd. I had to get off the float. It was a shorter distance down from the trailer bed than the truck cab. I was going to have to bail. I hitched a leg over the side.

  “Hold up,” Kyle said. “Gingerbread lady is handing out treats. The floats are slowing down because kids are trying to run out into the road.”

  That was one tradition the town might want to revamp, but fortunately it was still in place tonight. The truck inched along.

  “I’ll help you down.” Kyle jumped from the trailer and held out his arms.

  I hated being treated like a child. Though, it would be hard for me to get over the rail myself, especially with the vehicle moving. One of the drawbacks of being short. I grabbed Kyle’s outstretched hands, stood on the thin railing and jumped. His grip kept my feet from sliding on the candy that had been thrown by other floats. Another tradition to reconsider.

  “Thanks!” I called out ov
er my shoulder, pushing my jostled glasses back up the bridge of my nose as I ran toward the sidewalk, avoiding all the wrapped sugary treats littering the road.

  The moment my feet touched the sidewalk, I realized my huge mistake. The streets were crowded and being shorter than half the parade watchers meant I couldn’t see Eric over the heads of people in the crowd. Now what?

  Tucking my arms to my side, I wiggled through the crowd, heading for the buildings. Cornelius’s store had a two-foot-tall brick planter out front, perfect to stand on and get a bird’s eye view of the street. I reached the planter. Placing my hand on a sign Cornelius erected saying “No Standing” in the dirt now planted with poinsettias, I boosted myself onto the bricks, staying clear of the plants.

  From my new vantage point, I saw over people’s heads but the blinking lights from the display window across the street was creating a strobe effect. I had to turn my head away and blink. Spots were in front of my eyes. How was I going to find Eric?

  “But Mommy she is,” a child whined.

  “You can’t be up there,” an exasperated voice said. “If you ask one more time, I’ll take you home.”

  “I can’t see.” Feet thumped up and down on the sidewalk. A young boy, about five, was near the planter. “Pick me up too.”

  The mom was holding a toddler on her hip. She glanced at the planter then at me, quickly looking away when our gazes connected. I saw the tears brewing in her eyes.

  “What are you doing up there?” Cornelius snapped at me.

  “Told you so,” the mom told her son.

  The little boy shot me a cheeky grin. “You’re in trouble.”

  “I’m trying to find someone in the crowd,” I said. “It’s important.”

  “You’re going to fall off and break your leg.”

  Red lights swirled. Santa was coming.

  “Santa’s on the fire truck.” People announced.

  “No, I won’t.” I shielded my eyes with my hand and scoped out the area. A man wearing a red baseball cap entered One More Page. Eric. I hopped down.

  “Mommy, I can’t see. I want to see Santa on the truck.” The little boy jumped up and down, tugging on his mom.

  “Santa will see you.”

  “Pick me up. It’s not fair he can see, and I can’t.” He poked his baby brother in the leg.

  “Climb up here.” Cornelius removed the sign. “You’ll be able to see him real good.”

  The little kid looked at Cornelius with wide eyes. “But the sign said not to.”

  “It’s my sign and my planter so I can change the rules for it. I’ll even hang onto you, so your mama don’t worry about you slipping off.”

  I scurried away before Cornelius saw my grin. There was a Christmas spirit inside of him.

  There was a crowd in front of One More Page, laughing and snapping pictures of her window display. People were standing with their back against the window and pointing while a friend snapped their picture. I peeked between the shoulders of a couple. Coldness swept over me.

  On the bottom of the naughty list, in white letter stickers, was Jenna Wilcox’s name. A stark contrast to the gold glitter vinyl I had used. The white seemed to shine out, demanding everyone’s attention.

  Why had someone added Jenna’s name to the list? When? Why? My stomach rolled. Someone pulled the sign from the window and held it near their check, laughing hysterically at Jenna’s name on it.

  Get the sign. The loud order in my head galvanized me into action. I pushed my way into the store, snagging the sign as another person reached for it. Without explaining myself, I headed for Rachel’s office. I had to get the sign in a protected place. I had to get the police here. Someone had put Jenna’s name on the list.

  Was it her killer? A chill swept over me. I yanked my cell from my pocket and called Paul. No answer. Of course not, he was driving the fire truck. I hoped 911 agreed this was an emergency.

  “What’s your emergency?”

  I pressed myself into a dark corner between the main store area and the hallway. I scanned the bookstore. Hundreds of people, or it appeared that way, were in the store. Was the culprit still here? Had they already fled? “Jenna Wilcox’s name was added to Santa’s naughty list sign at One More Page.”

  Rachel’s emergency phone call. Had someone broken into One More Page last night and added the name? No, I had seen the sign this morning. No one had tampered with it.

  “What’s your emergency?” The dispatcher asked again.

  “I’m at One More Page and the naughty sign had Jenna Wilcox’s name on it. I know it wasn’t made that way. It was added.” I lowered my voice. “With what happened to Jenna, I thought Chief Hudson would like to know.”

  “An officer is on their way.”

  Cassie was reading a book to a group of children and her co-worker, a tall, blond young man with a friendly smile, was ringing up a large purchase.

  I thanked the dispatcher and hung up, ignoring her instructions to stay on the line. I slipped out of the corner before Cassie spotted me and hurried to Rachel’s office. I needed to safeguard the sign. After I secured it for the police, I’d look for Eric. I hadn’t seen him leave, but my attention had been on the sign.

  The door to Rachel’s office was ajar. With my shoulder, I nudged it open. A soft glow emitted from the monitor. The computer was on. The screen was angled away from the door, only a smidge of the image was visible. It was the front of the store. The security camera. I could check it to see if Eric was still in the store.

  I stepped into the dark office and ran my hand along the wall for the light switch.

  There was a shuffling sound behind me. I started to turn, and something hit the back of my head. Hard. The world turned dark.

  Eight

  Muffled laughter, cheers, and crying worked its way into my conscience. Groaning, I tried pushing myself up. Hands gripped my shoulders and helped me sit up.

  “Merry talk to me,” Cassie’s tearful voice worked its way through the fuzz in my brain.

  Her image tilted and twirled. I closed my eyes and drew in deep breaths. I touched a spot on my head that throbbed. It was a little sticky and tender to the touch. Someone hit me in the back of the head. Where was I? What had happened? Everything was a blur in my mind but soon focused into place. I was in Rachel’s office. The naughty sign.

  “The sign,” I said.

  Cassie glanced around. “On my goodness. I’m so sorry. I was supposed to remind Garrett to fix the plaque. The nail was coming out of the wall.”

  On the floor beside me was a decorative plaque with one of Rachel’s favorite quotes from Harry Potter. There was a large hole in the drywall. The naughty sign was gone.

  I rose to my feet, resettled my glasses properly on my nose and looked to see if the naughty sign fell further away from me. No. It was gone. My knees almost buckled.

  Cassie wrapped her arm around my waist, keeping me upright. “Maybe you should stay seated until Paul gets here.”

  “You called Paul?” Maybe sitting was a good idea. The leather office chair creaked as I lowered myself into it. The screen was blank. Had Cassie turned it off, or had the person who had struck me with the plaque turned it off?

  I wanted to ask Cassie but was afraid of her answer. If she said no, then she’d know that someone hit me. Possibly the murderer. It was best for her not to know anything about that.

  Cassie nodded. “I left him a message. You were unconscious on the floor. I didn’t know what was wrong with you until you mentioned the sign.”

  There was small ruckus coming from the main area of the bookstore. The after-parade party was in full swing.

  “I need to go help Garrett. Will you be okay by yourself?” She glanced toward the open door.

  “I’ll be fine. I just want to sit for a couple of minutes.”

  “You should stay b
ack here until Paul comes.”

  “If the parade is still going on, he won’t be done for at least thirty minutes. Santa is on his truck and he’ll go slow.”

  “Santa’s arriving on the fire truck? Why not his sleigh?”

  Oops. It was amazing how a simple, unassuming detail led to almost giving away a big truth that needed to remain a secret. “There was an issue with it. Norman couldn’t use it tonight. The fire truck seemed like the best alternative to the sleigh.”

  Garrett stuck his head into the office. “I’m getting slammed up here.”

  “I’ll be back to check on you.” Cassie followed Garret back into the main store.

  I leaned forward to get a better view of the monitor. It was off along with the CPU unit. Someone had turned off the computer and the screen. I doubted Cassie would’ve done that before checking if I was all right. Someone had hit me. The sign didn’t come down on its own, not to mention the fact that the naughty sign couldn’t have carried itself out of the room.

  But who? Eric? Had he noticed I was following him and decided to follow me? Why? Carefully, I stood and tested out my legs. No dizziness. No double vision. I think I was going to be okay. And to think this morning my biggest fear about the parade was that Jenna planned on starting rumors about townsfolk with her list.

  My breath stuck in my throat for a moment, almost choking me. Was that why Jenna was killed? Had someone harbored a secret they feared would destroy them and decided to silence Jenna forever? My whole body quivered. I yanked back the office chair and dropped into it. Whose names were on it? I remembered mine, the mayor, Pastor Heath, the others flowed in and out of my mind without me being able to grasp them.

  Wait! Eric. Eric’s name had been on the list. Where was he? Why wasn’t he looking for me? The parade was either over or ending soon and Jenna wasn’t in it. The man should be looking for me to find out why his wife’s float wasn’t in the parade. Especially if word was getting around that Jenna was boycotting the parade. Eric would want to know why—unless he already knew she wasn’t participating in it. If a wife turned up dead, it usually ended up that the husband was responsible.