Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4

A REAL SON OF A BLITZEN

Jack

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting in the cell at the police station. There’s a clock on the wall, but it’s out of my line of vision, whether by design or happenstance. There’s no one else in here. Just me in this big, surprisingly clean box with a long bench built into one wall.

I sit and I wait. It’s almost relaxing. No notifications dinging on my phone, nowhere to be, no one to answer to. The only noise is the distant hum of conversation from the squad room and the occasional bark of laughter.

It’s a luxury to simply lose myself in my thoughts. Well, it would be if my current thoughts were something other than I have no idea why I’ve been arrested and I really hope this town has a defense attorney who can get me out of this so that the rest of my trip doesn’t get derailed.

As if I’ve summoned an attorney with this thought, Officer Liza appears around the corner, her hands on her hips.

“Let’s go, Mr. Bell. That attorney you wanted is here.” She puts an old-fashioned key in the lock, and the bars swing open.

I step forward, then stop, unsure of the protocol. Can I walk right out? Or do I need to wait for her to handcuff me?

She raises an eyebrow. “You don’t want to come?”

“I wasn’t sure if you need to handcuff me first.” I hold my wrists out in front of me.

She rolls her eyes. “The handcuffing was a little dramatic,” she tells me. “But Ned insisted, and he’s got seniority.”

“I’m not dangerous,” I assure her.

“I figured as much. Just don’t prove me wrong by taking a swing at your counsel.” She gestures for me to walk out.

I do, and she leads me down a bright hallway. She stops in front of the last door and knocks once. Without waiting for a response, she pushes it open.

“He’s all yours,” she announces.

My attorney stands up from the far side of a metal table.

I do a double take. “You?” I ask.

“You?” she answers, wide-eyed.

The police officer chuckles to herself as she backs out into the hall and pulls the door closed.

The woman on the other side of the table continues to gape at me. My court-appointed lawyer is none other than the cranky blonde from the Snowflake Cafe who doused me in coffee. She blinks her clear blue eyes, once, twice, brushes a tendril of hair back from her face, and then steps forward and extends her hand.

“I’m H. Evelyn Jolly. I work for the public defender’s office. I’ve been assigned to represent you, Mr. Bell.”

“Please, call me Jack,” I tell her as I take her warm hand in mine as she gives me a brisk shake. Then I tilt my head. “I thought your name was Holly.”

Her brow wrinkles. “I don’t remember telling you my name.”

“You didn’t, but Delphina at the coffee shop and a very tall, fit woman in line behind me did.”

She twists her mouth into a knowing bow. “Was this tall woman wearing a warm-up suit?”

I nod. “The jacket said Maple Twist Fitness.”

“That’s Griselda. What else did those two tell you?”

I think for a moment. “That you take your coffee like your heart.”

“Black and strong,” she confirms. Then she adds, as an afterthought, “And bitter.”

I cock my head and continue, “They also said you aren’t the holiday-hater you appear to be.”

She shrugs and lets that pass.

“So, your name is Holly?”

A heavy sigh. “Yes, my name is Holly.”

“Holly Jolly?” I try to suppress a snicker and fail.

She jabs a finger at me. “And this is why I go by H. Evelyn in court.”

“It’s … cute.”

“Yeah, adorable,” she deadpans.

“I didn’t mean to laugh,” I tell her sincerely. “I’m sorry.”

She dismisses my apology with a chop of her hand. “Forget about it. You’re hardly the first person to find it funny. But we don’t have time for this. We have an arraignment in about twenty minutes. I need you to tell me what exactly happened.”

I shake my head. “I have no idea. I ordered a coffee—the one you, uh, spat on me, as a matter of fact. It smelled so good, I decided to get one. I tried to pay, but Delphina refused to take my money. She said you covered it. Thank you, by the way.”

“It was the least I could do. Please continue.”

I search my memory. “I put some money in the suspended meals jar and took my coffee. We chatted about how your family owns an inn and is big into the holidays. Then Delphina suggested I stick around town to go to the Christmas tree lighting tonight.”

She snorts. “Of course she did.”

“I was about to leave when two police officers came in and asked if the owner of a red station wagon with Florida plates was in the building. I said that was me, and they asked me to step outside. The male officer took my drink, and the female officer handcuffed me. I didn’t even get to drink my coffee.” I give a rueful shake of my head.

“You’ve gotta stop calling that coffee. Believe me, you didn’t miss anything.”

I laugh despite myself. “I told them I wanted an attorney and we drove to the station in silence. I genuinely have no idea what they think I did.”

She sighs and glances down at a sheet of paper in her hand. “What they think you did, Jack, was criminal trespass. That’s what they’re planning to charge you with.”

“Trespass? That’s impossible. What does it say? Where did I trespass?”

“It’s not on this intake sheet, and I really don’t want to find out in court, so please try to remember everywhere you went. When did you get into town?”

“Early this morning. I’m just passing through.”

“What did you do before you went to the Snowflake Cafe?”

“I stopped for gas. As I was pulling out of the gas station I saw a sign declaring a place called Snow Lake the best spot in town to watch the sunrise. I’m not really in a hurry, so I drove over there.” I pause. “Do you know where I’m talking about?”

“Yes. My family owns a cabin on the other side of the lake. And the sunrise usually is spectacular.”

“It was,” I agree. “I was there for a while, watching the swans glide around. When I left, I decided to stop in town and get a coffee for the road.” I lift my hands and shrug.

“You didn’t stop anywhere else before you came to the coffee shop?”

“No.”

She frowns. “And you went straight from the gas station to the lake? You’re sure?”

I search my memory, retracing my steps. “Yes. Wait, no. I did make a stop, but that can’t be what this is about.”

She holds my gaze, waiting.

“When I was driving to the lake, the sun hadn’t risen but the was sky was beginning to lighten. You know? Dawn, I guess. And I noticed a little free library in the front of a home. It was lit by a spotlight, so it caught my eye. I’ve been adding books to little free libraries all along the East Coast on my trip. Mistletoe Mountain wasn’t one of my planned stops, but I was here, so I stopped and put a few books in the box.”

“Where is this home?”

“It’s outside of the town proper. A big, sprawling rancher on the right side of the road to the lake. There’s a pair of stone lions flanking the driveway.”

She groans. It’s a long, pained sound.

“What?”

“That’s the Swansons’ place.”

“And?”

“Mrs. Swanson can be … difficult. Did you step on her property?”

I throw her a baffled look. “Yeah? I mean, I had to. The library box is in the middle of a garden with a stepping stone path. I parked, got some books out of my trunk, and put them in the library. Then I went on my way.”

“You didn’t take any books?”

“No.”

“Good. She probably would have had you charged with theft, too.”

I pause and consider how to ask this question without offending her. “Do you understand how a little free library works?”

“I do. I’m not entirely certain Mrs. Swanson does.”

“This is ludicrous.”

“It is,” she agrees.

“So we can clear this up really easily, right? Can’t you just talk to the DA and explain this is all a misunderstanding?” It seems easy enough to me.

She gives me a pained smile. After a moment, she straightens her shoulders and takes a deep breath. “We should be able to resolve this in no time.”

“Why do I hear a but?”

“Because there is one.”

“I’m all ears.”

“The assistant district attorney who authorized your arrest a real son of a Blitzen,” she says.

I blink, confused. “A what?”

She throws back her head and laughs at my puzzlement. She has a nice laugh, throaty. Almost a purr of pleasure. I stop my mind before it can go any further down this line of thought and focus on what she’s saying.

“It’s how we swear around town. You’ll get used to it.”

“I don’t know my reindeer lore, but son of a Blitzen sounds bad.”

“It’s not great,” she admits. “Anderson is a win-at-all-costs guy.”

“Anderson?”

“The district attorney. Anderson Wilson Carson.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. “That’s a mouthful.”

“They’re family names.” She shakes her head. “The problem is, Anderson has political ambitions. He might want to make an example out of you.”

I stare at her for a long moment, sure I’ve misheard her. “Make an example out of me for donating books?”

She nods unhappily. “It’s a possibility.”

“What about the judge?”

“Judge MacIntosh is fair,” she assures me.

Relieved, I shrug. “Okay, so I’ll pay a fine if that’s what I have to do to be on my way.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’re going to go upstairs.”

“What’s upstairs?”

“The courthouse is attached to this police department. And the district attorney’s offices are on the other side. All three buildings are connected by long hallways.”

“Bet that’s convenient during Vermont winters.”

She laughs. “It is. Anyway, we’re going to find Assistant District Attorney Carson before arraignment court starts and see if we can’t work this out without even involving the judge.”

She sounds crisp and confident, but a worry line creases her forehead. There’s something she’s not telling me.

But I just nod. “Sounds like a plan.”

She hits the door with the side of her fist. Officer Liza must be waiting on the other side because the door swings open almost instantly.

“Going up to see Anders?” The police officer shoots my lawyer a look I can’t decipher.

“Anders?” Holly parrots.

Liza snorts. “Haven’t you heard? He’s shortened his name. He wants us all to call him Anders.”

“And elves in the North Pole want hot cocoa.”

The officer’s laughter trails us down the hallway to a stairwell and doesn’t fade until Holly pushes open the door and we head upstairs.