Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

Nick

T he third clue sends us into town. We return all the other stuff to the army green plastic container, even though I sincerely doubt kids still letterbox, then haul our butts back down the mountain. I may or may not let Noelle go ahead of me so I can enjoy the view of the butt she's hauling during the journey to the fishing cabin. We agree to take her car into town. Since I'm supposed to be hiding out at the cabin, I don't exactly want my pickup truck to be spotted.

As she drives, I re-read the clue: This clue's got a twist. But don't you think she gets the better end of the deal? After all, her hair will grow back. His pocket watch is gone forever.

"O. Henry, right?"

She nods. "Right, ‘The Gift of the Magi.' It's gotta be. "

"Are you thinking the library? Or the maybe the bookstore?"

She taps a finger against her lip, thinking. "Maybe, if the clue is the book itself. But the clue focuses on the gifts the couple exchanged. So it could be the hair salon or the barber shop."

"Or Alpine Jewelers," I suggest.

She twists in her seat and flashes me a bright smile. "You're a genius! I'll bet it is the jewelry store. It seems like Xander carries one of everything in that place."

Both sides of High Street are completely parked up—not surprising, given that the festival's official opening is tomorrow. Our little town is filling up. Noelle bypasses the paid parking garage and zips down the alley to the lot behind the library. We leave her car in the reserved director's spot, which I'm frankly surprised is open. Everyone in town knows she rarely uses the perk. Her cottage is just a short walk from the library, so I figured we'd find some time-pressed patron illegally parked in the spot. But apparently, Mistletoe Mountain had a soft spot for its feisty, friendly library director.

By unspoken agreement, we hoof it down the cobblestone alley instead of maneuvering through the pedestrian traffic on High Street. When we reach the courtyard behind the pair of historic townhouses that are home to Alpine Jewelers and the North Pole Social Club, she lifts the latch on the wrought-iron gate. We cross the yard, slip through the narrow passage on the side of the building, and dodge the flow of foot traffic to enter the shop.

The little jewelry store is bustling, so we kill some time checking out the displays while Xander Michaelson, whose family has owned the shop since the beginning of time, helps a giggly young couple looking at rings and then waits on a man who's picking up his repaired watch. Finally, it's just us and, and he turns to us.

"Nick, Noelle, what can I do for you folks?"

"It's your party," I tell Noelle under my breath. "You take the lead."

She steps forward. "Hi, Xander. This might sound like an odd request, but do you have a platinum pocket watch chain and a set of jeweled hair combs?"

His eyes twinkle behind his wire-rimmed glasses. "Are the Mountainside Players doing a reading of ‘The Gift of the Magi' this weekend?"

"No. But you're on the right track." She turns to me. "Show him the note."

I hand over the little envelope as requested, and she continues, "Nick and I are doing a scavenger hunt, and this was our last clue."

He scans the note, and a slow smile spreads over his face. "I wondered when someone would be in for this. I don't always have pocket watch chains or ornate hair combs in stock. But I do keep a display set in the window. They're not for sale. Just a fun nod to the story."

He gestures toward the front display case. Somehow in the twenty minutes we spent cooling our heels, neither of us noticed it.

"And you've been expecting someone to ask about it?"

Noelle's voice is warm and friendly. But her tapping foot gives her away, at least to me. Xander is a methodical, serenely unhurried individual who devotes his full attention to each customer, each task, and each conversation with the focus of a Zen master. Neither speed nor succinct answers is his strength.

"Oh, yes." He pauses to think. Her toe taps faster. "Hmm, it must have been right around this time. No, wait. That's not right. It was just after Christmas in July. Perhaps early August? Definitely before the fall festivities began. I could check my diary and see if I made a note of the precise date."

"No need," I assure him, giving Noelle a cautious look.

For all his tranquility, Xander lacks an instinct for self-preservation. If he doesn't hurry this story along, Noelle's going to shake it out of him.

He continues, "One morning, I unlocked the door to find that someone had slipped a note through the mail slot."

"A note," she repeats, her face flushing with excitement.

I used to know how to bring that color into her face. The stray thought comes out of nowhere. I shove it back into its box and try to focus on the conversation.

"Yes, a note and a small ivory envelope labeled Clue No. 4. The note asked me to hold the clue until someone came in asking about the pocket watch and combs. So I tucked it under the display for safekeeping."

He strolls to the window in slow motion with Noelle tripping on his heels. I trail behind. He takes a small key from his pocket, unlocks the window, and freezes.

"Something wrong?" I ask.

He twists his neck to look at me with a confused expression. "This glass is smeared."

I peer over his shoulder. He's right. There's a big, greasy handprint on the glass. "Someone probably rested a sweaty hand there while they were checking out the display."

He flattens his lips at the suggestion. "That's highly unlikely. I personally clean this glass several times a day. I'm particular about it." He gives a small shrug of acknowledgment, as if he realizes he's fastidious, before he continues. "Aside from that, this is a window case. The display faces the street; there's nothing to see from this side."

"Hmm. That's so weird," Noelle murmurs sympathetically, giving me a wide-eyed look behind his back.

"It truly is." Finally, he slides his hand under a stand that holds the pocket watch and hair combs, retrieves a small envelope, and holds it out to her.

She snatches it from his hand. "Thank you."

"It's my pleasure." Then he turns to me. "Nick, I was sorry to hear you're not going to be our Santa this weekend."

I suppress a sigh. "I don't have a lot of cheer this year. It wouldn't be fair to the kids to have a sad Santa."

He nods, thoughtful and understanding. "I mean no disrespect to Josh. He'll do a great job, but I sure wish you'd reconsider. It won't be the same without you. You're an institution around here. You are Summer Santa."

I never realized I was an institution, but Enzo said the same thing. It makes me feel old. I vaguely mumble something about getting back in the Santa saddle next year and am saved from further conversation when the bell over his front door jingles and a clutch of women wearing red sequined Santa hats sweeps into the store in a cloud of perfume and chatter. We thank Xander and seize the opportunity to make our escape .

Noelle beelines for the courtyard behind the shop and plops down on an ornate iron bench. "Ready to open it?"

"Let's do it." I drop down next to her.

Just as she's about to slit the envelope open, my phone chirps in my pocket. She pauses while I pull it out and check the display.

"It's Ivy. Give me a minute?"

"Of course."

I pick up the call. "Hi, honey. Everything okay?"

"Yeah, Dad, things are great here. The cousins have been a huge help. And they're a lot of fun, too."

"Glad to hear it."

"We're pretty much all set for the open house. Merry and Rosemary are cooking up a storm. Holly made a color-coded, timed checklist of everything we need to do." She snorts at her oldest sister's intensity before continuing. "Thyme put all the decorations up and I got the guest rooms ready while Sage set up special crafts for the kids. We have games. We have music. And we're all set for the first check-ins this afternoon."

"Sounds like you're kicking butt and taking names."

"Yeah, we are. I'm not just calling with an update, though. I'm sorry to bother you at the cabin, but I thought you should know."

I don't bother to correct her as to my whereabouts. "Know what?"

"Jamal just stopped by. He wanted to let you know that Mr. Morgenthal won't be able to play Santa this weekend after all."

"Why? Did something happen to Josh?"

Noelle looks up with concern at the question .

On the phone, Ivy hurries to reassure me. "He's fine. But Ryan's mother fell and broke her elbow and her knee. She's going to be okay, but she lives alone, so she needs some help. Ryan's flying out to California to give her a hand, and Josh doesn't want him to have to go alone. They're not sure how long they're going to be. At least a week, probably longer. Jamal said Josh would've tracked you down himself but they're already on their way to the airport. He's really sorry, though."

"He shouldn't be. Family comes first. Thanks for letting me know."

"Jamal said to let him know if you want him to find another replacement. He can't sub in himself because he's running the reindeer relays."

I pause, but only for a beat. Xander was right. I am Summer Santa. Pushing it off on Josh never felt completely right, and now that the job's back in my lap, I need to step up and suit up in the summer-weight Santa suit.

"No, I'll do it. I just need to track down the suit." I hear squealing and shouting in the background. "Am I on speaker?"

"Oh, uh, yeah. We were hoping that's what you say," Ivy confesses.

"No worries, Dad. Jamal brought your suit. It's hanging in the hall closet," Holly shouts.

"Love you, Santa!" Merry says.

"About the suit, Dad. Josh may have had it altered," Ivy explains.

"Understood. I'll see you soon," I tell my celebrating daughters. Then, shaking my head, I end the call and catch Noelle's eyes. "Did you get all that? "

"The gist. Ryan's mom needs some help?"

"Yeah. She broke her elbow and her knee."

"I'm sorry she got hurt, but senior roller derby is no joke."

"Ryan's mother is on a roller derby team? Isn't she, like, a hundred?"

"At least. But I'm told she's one heck of a jammer." A soft smile touches her lips. "I'm glad you're going to be Santa."

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I return the smile. Then I gesture toward the envelope. "Can we put this clue on hold for a few hours? I need to make sure the suit still fits. If Josh already had it taken in, I'm going to need to do some emergency alterations."

My imagination must be playing tricks on me because it looks exactly as if she's running her eyes over my chest and shoulders with a greedy expression. "Right, of course." She checks her watch. "Why don't you stop by the library after you get your costume sorted out and we'll open the clue then?"

"It's a date—I mean, a plan. Not a date. It's a plan." I trip over my words like a schoolboy, but she just gives me a puzzled look. Get a grip, Jolly.