Finding Christmas

by Kathi Daley

  Finding Christmas

  by

  Kathi Daley

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2018 by Katherine Daley

  Version 1.0

  All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

  I want to thank the very talented Jessica Fischer for the cover art.

  I so appreciate Bruce Curran, who is always ready and willing to answer my cyber questions; Jayme Maness for helping out with the book clubs; and Peggy Hyndman for helping sleuth out those pesky typos.

  And, of course, thanks to the readers and bloggers in my life, who make doing what I do possible.

  Thank you to Randy Ladenheim-Gil for the editing.

  And finally, I want to thank my husband Ken for allowing me time to write by taking care of everything else.

  Books by Kathi Daley

  Come for the murder, stay for the romance.

  Zoe Donovan Cozy Mystery:

  Halloween Hijinks

  The Trouble With Turkeys

  Christmas Crazy

  Cupid’s Curse

  Big Bunny Bump-off

  Beach Blanket Barbie

  Maui Madness

  Derby Divas

  Haunted Hamlet

  Turkeys, Tuxes, and Tabbies

  Christmas Cozy

  Alaskan Alliance

  Matrimony Meltdown

  Soul Surrender

  Heavenly Honeymoon

  Hopscotch Homicide

  Ghostly Graveyard

  Santa Sleuth

  Shamrock Shenanigans

  Kitten Kaboodle

  Costume Catastrophe

  Candy Cane Caper

  Holiday Hangover

  Easter Escapade

  Camp Carter

  Trick or Treason

  Reindeer Roundup

  Hippity Hoppity Homicide

  Firework Fiasco

  Henderson House

  Holiday Hostage – December 2018

  Lunacy Lake – Spring 2019

  Zimmerman Academy The New Normal

  Zimmerman Academy New Beginnings

  Ashton Falls Cozy Cookbook

  Tj Jensen Paradise Lake Mysteries by Henery Press:

  Pumpkins in Paradise

  Snowmen in Paradise

  Bikinis in Paradise

  Christmas in Paradise

  Puppies in Paradise

  Halloween in Paradise

  Treasure in Paradise

  Fireworks in Paradise

  Beaches in Paradise

  Thanksgiving in Paradise – Fall 2019

  Whales and Tails Cozy Mystery:

  Romeow and Juliet

  The Mad Catter

  Grimm’s Furry Tail

  Much Ado About Felines

  Legend of Tabby Hollow

  Cat of Christmas Past

  A Tale of Two Tabbies

  The Great Catsby

  Count Catula

  The Cat of Christmas Present

  A Winter’s Tail

  The Taming of the Tabby

  Frankencat

  The Cat of Christmas Future

  Farewell to Felines

  A Whisker in Time

  The Catsgiving Feast

  Whale of a Tail – Spring 2019

  Writers’ Retreat Southern Mystery:

  First Case

  Second Look

  Third Strike

  Fourth Victim

  Fifth Night

  Sixth Cabin

  Seventh Chapter

  Eighth Witness – January 2019

  Rescue Alaska Paranormal Mystery:

  Finding Justice

  Finding Answers

  Finding Courage

  Finding Christmas

  Finding Motive – Spring 2019

  A Tess and Tilly Mystery:

  The Christmas Letter

  The Valentine Mystery

  The Mother’s Day Mishap

  The Halloween House

  The Thanksgiving Trip

  The Saint Paddy’s Promise – March 2019

  The Inn at Holiday Bay:

  Boxes in the Basement

  Letters in the Library – February 2019

  Family Ties:

  The Hathaway Sisters

  Harper – Spring 2019

  Harlow – Summer 2019

  Haley – Fall 2019

  Haunting by the Sea:

  Homecoming by the Sea

  Secrets by the Sea

  Missing by the Sea

  Thanksgiving by the Sea – Spring 2019

  Christmas by the Sea – Fall 2019

  Sand and Sea Hawaiian Mystery:

  Murder at Dolphin Bay

  Murder at Sunrise Beach

  Murder at the Witching Hour

  Murder at Christmas

  Murder at Turtle Cove

  Murder at Water’s Edge

  Murder at Midnight

  Seacliff High Mystery:

  The Secret

  The Curse

  The Relic

  The Conspiracy

  The Grudge

  The Shadow

  The Haunting

  Road to Christmas Romance:

  Road to Christmas Past

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Up next from Kathi Daley Books

  Books by Kathi Daley

  Chapter 1

  Saturday, December 15

  The short days of winter had set in, creating a state of almost perpetual darkness. When combined with the heavy clouds that had blanketed the area for the past week, I was beginning to think the sun had disappeared completely. Having lived in Rescue, Alaska, my entire life, I’d learned to roll with the changing weather, but for some reason, this year the endless snow and dark skies were beginning to get on my nerves. Not that there was a thing I could do about the weather, I reminded myself as I handed out event tickets to the sugared-up children at the annual Winter Wonderland Christmas Celebration.

  “You do realize that since we’ve been here, Grandma has been run over by a reindeer at least three times, Frosty has stolen some poor guy’s hat at least twice, Rudolph has been bullied by his nasally unimpaired classmates a whopping six times, and the Grinch has stolen Christmas despite the fact that my own powers of observation tell me Christmas is alive and well.”

  I glanced at my ticket booth partner, Officer Hank Houston. He hadn’t wanted to participate in this annual event when I’d first approached him about it, but over time, my tenacious nagging had worn him down and he’d agreed to help me with the shift my best friend, Chloe Rivers, had badgered me into signing up for. “I take it you aren’t a fan of the kiddie carols Chloe put on an endless loop from hell.”

  Houston ran his hands through his thick brown hair. “It’s not that I have anything against the carols per se, it’s just that Christmas isn’t really my thing. I guess all the ho-ho-hos and one-horse open sleighs are getting to me. How long is this shift?”

  “Four hours.”

  “And how long have we been here?”

  “One hour.”


  I tried unsuccessfully to suppress a smile as Houston let out a very unmanly groan.

  “You sound like you’re dying.” I chuckled. “It really isn’t that bad.”

  “Isn’t it?”

  I raised a brow. “Okay, this is a bit much, but I’m going to go out on a limb and assume it isn’t just the noise and the chaos. If I had to guess I’d say there is a deep psychological reason you aren’t a fan of the jolly old man in red.”

  Houston shrugged. “It’s not that I am some sort of a Grinch but I will admit the big guy and I have had a few problems over the years.”

  “I see. Do you want to talk about it?”

  “Not really. Are you sure you need me to help you? It’s my day off, barring any emergencies, and it seems like you have it this under control.”

  I was debating whether to let Houston off the hook when I noticed the very real pain in his eyes. Maybe he really wasn’t being a Grinch. I knew he’d moved to Rescue the previous spring after having suffered a personal tragedy he was unwilling to talk about. Now, if I had to guess, that tragedy was Christmas involved, given his lack of enthusiasm for the holiday. “I get the aversion to the hoopla,” I said with compassion. “I haven’t always been the biggest lover of the season myself.”

  Houston frowned. “I’m sorry. I remember you mentioning your parents died in a car accident at Christmas.”

  I shrugged. “I’m fine. I’ve mostly been able to move past it.” That wasn’t totally true, but I liked to tell myself it was.

  Houston opened his mouth as if to reply when a woman dressed as an elf came over to us. “Are you Harmony Carson?”

  “I am,” I answered.

  “I have a message for you from a man named Jake Cartwright.”

  Jake was my boss and brother-in-law. “I wonder why he didn’t just call my cell.” I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at it. No bars.

  The elf replied, “The man I spoke to called the landline we set up for this event when he couldn’t get hold of your cell. He said the team has been called out on a rescue. He needs you to meet him at the Rescue Inn as soon as you can get there. And he said to bring Yukon.” The elf, who must be new in town because I’d never met her and she didn’t seem to know who either Jake or I were, glanced at Houston with an appreciative gleam in her eye. “I don’t suppose you’re Yukon?”

  Houston laughed. “Hardly. I’m Hank Houston. Yukon is a dog,” He looked at me with what could only be an expression of relief on his face. “It sounds like duty calls. Carl is on shift today, but a search-and-rescue call sounds like something I should handle personally.”

  I found I had to agree. Carl Flanders and Donny Quinlan, the deputies Houston had inherited when he’d taken on the job as police chief, weren’t exactly the most motivated men in the world. They provided somewhat adequate support when it came to day-to-day tasks, but they certainly weren’t the men you’d want in charge during an emergency, which, if you thought about it, was pretty ironic given that responding to emergencies was pretty much their entire job description.

  I picked up the backpack I used as a purse and nodded at Houston. “If you’re coming, grab your stuff. I’m already out of here.”

  “But you can’t both leave,” the elf complained as Houston began gathering his own hat, coat, and gloves. “Who’ll man the ticket booth?”

  I handed the cashbox to the woman who wore little more than green tights and some sort of short red dress that barely covered the tops of her thighs. “I’m sure you can handle things until the next shift gets here in three hours.” With that, I grabbed Houston’s hand and headed toward the exit before anyone came up with a reason to cause us to stay.

  ******

  The search-and-rescue team had been called out to find an elderly man who’d been staying with his daughter and son-in-law at the Rescue Inn. He hadn’t been seen since he went up to bed at nine thirty the previous evening, so we weren’t sure how long he’d been out in the snow dressed in nothing but his furry red Santa suit. It was almost eleven a.m. now, and the temperature was hovering around zero. If he’d been out in the cold for more than a couple of hours, I was afraid this was going to be a retrieval operation rather than a rescue.

  According to Jake, our victim was a seventy-six-year-old named Nick Clauston. Nick’s daughter, Noel Snow, had reported her father missing at around ten fifteen that morning. He hadn’t come down to breakfast, but initially, she hadn’t worried because he slept late and it wasn’t unusual for him to skip breakfast altogether. When he hadn’t come downstairs by ten o’clock, she went up to his room to check on him. She found he was gone from his room, as was his red Santa suit. She looked around the inn and its immediate area and when he wasn’t found, Mrs. Snow called Carl at the police station, who referred her to Jake. Noel told him she had no idea whether her father had wandered off that morning or during the night, although she suspected it might have been this morning because she didn’t think it likely he would leave the inn when it was pitch black outside. I certainly hoped that was the case.

  “Jake to Harmony,” I heard through the two-way radio I carried as I trudged on snowshoes through drifts of deep snow. My search-and-rescue dog Yukon and I had been paired with fellow S&R team member Wyatt Forrester.

  I paused, wiping a huge snowflake from my cheek before I answered. “Go for Harmony.”

  “Sitka seems to have lost the scent.” Jake, who served as the leader of the search-and-rescue team, referred to our lead search and rescue dog. “Initially it seemed like he had something, but at this point he just looks confused. Do you and Yukon have anything?”

  “It seemed Yukon had a scent when we first started out, but he seems to have lost it as well,” I answered. I looked around at the dense forest. “It’s snowed quite a bit in the past few hours. If the man came this way, it’s likely his tracks will be covered.”

  “Any luck making a connection?”

  “No.” I looked around at the blanket of white. “I’ll try again.” The team depended on my ability to psychically connect to victims I was meant to help rescue. My ability, which I oftentimes considered a curse, had come to me during the lowest point in my life. My sister Val, who had become my guardian after our parents died, had gone out on a rescue. She’d become lost in a storm, and although the team tried to find her, they came up with nothing but dead ends. She was the first person I connected to, and the one I most wanted to save. I couldn’t save Val, but since then, I’d used my gift to locate and rescue dozens of people.

  I found a large rock, brushed off the snow, and sat down. I focused in on the photo of the white-haired man with rosy red cheeks dressed in a very authentic-looking Santa costume. His daughter had told us they’d come to Rescue so her husband could ski, but ultimately, they’d chosen Alaska as their vacation destination so her father could participate in the Santa Festival being held in Tinseltown, only a short drive from Rescue. Well, it was a short drive by Alaska standards. It was a little more than an hour away.

  Mrs. Snow had explained that Mr. Clauston suffered from the early stages of dementia, although he seemed to be having a lot of good days lately, and she felt he was doing much better than he was when he was first diagnosed. She had real hope the progression of his disease had been stalled, at least until she’d discovered he’d wandered away without his snow boots or heavy jacket.

  I closed my eyes and focused on the man’s jolly face. I tried to think as he would, which I hoped would increase my odds of making a connection. Mrs. Snow had told us that at times, her father actually believed he was Santa Claus and behaved accordingly. He’d do things that in his mind Santa would do. For example, not long ago, her father had collected a bunch of stuff he had around his house, wrapped it, and broke into houses up and down the block where he lived, delivering gifts.

  Making a connection to a person in need of rescue is far from an exact science. Sometimes their image comes through clearly, while at others, it doesn’t come through at all. I knew not to force it.
I simply let the images that presented themselves caress my mind. I could hear Yukon panting next to me and Wyatt moving around, but I forced my mind to be still and settle down. I pulled up an image of rosy cheeks, faded blue eyes, white hair, a lopsided smile, and a mind filled with the possibility of magic.

  “I might have something,” I said after a minute of intense concentration. “Although to be honest, the vision is vague. I can’t make out any details.”

  “What are you picking up?” Jake asked through the radio.

  “I sense hay. Maybe a barn?”

  “I suppose Mr. Clauston might have sought out shelter in a barn,” Jake said. “With all the fresh snow, he couldn’t have gotten too far from the inn, though, and I can’t think of any barns in the immediate area.”

  “Yeah.” I frowned. “The image of the barn doesn’t really fit.” I took a deep breath and tried to focus deeper. I could sense Yukon was becoming restless at the delay. I was sure Jake, Sitka, and Landon were restless waiting for me to do my thing as well, and that just made me tense and less able to focus.

  I thought back to the interview we’d had with Noel Snow when we’d responded to the call. Houston had taken over from Jake, asking the questions one would ask with any missing persons case. Why had the family been visiting Rescue? How long had the man been missing? What might he have been wearing or taken with him? And how might he have left the area? Houston wondered whether Nick Clauston had access to a vehicle or if it was more likely he had set off on foot. When his daughter said he hadn’t had access to a vehicle, Houston asked if he might have hitchhiked. She didn’t think he would have, and there was very little traffic on the road where the inn was located, so it was most likely he’d remained within walking distance of the inn. The poor woman had been so upset. I wanted to find her father, but other than the faint sense of him being associated with hay, I had nothing.

  I was about to give up when a flash of an elderly man with a white beard that reached the middle of his chest brushed across my mind. “I think I have him,” I whispered. “I’m still picking up on the hay, but the image is stronger now. There’s something else.” I focused in. “A sleigh.”