Chapter 18

CHAPTER 18

Nick

I scour the library for Noelle. She's not behind the circulation desk. I check her office, the kitchen, and the children's wing, pausing for a moment to watch little Sunny Min carefully constructing some sort of towering tile structure. No Noelle.

I retrace my steps to the lobby and stop in front of the bulletin board to pull out my phone and text her. A magazine article hanging on the board catches my eye. There's a picture of Noelle, beaming, as she cuts a red ribbon with a pair of ridiculously oversized scissors at the grand opening of the new children's wing. I scan the text. Apparently, she put Griselda's donation to good use. According to the article, the design and philosophy behind her revamped program garnered international recognition in the library world for its ‘ holistic, integrated approach to child and adolescent development through community spaces.'

My chest fills with an irrational swell of pride for her. Looks like she was right—our little town is big enough to hold her big dreams, after all.

"Uncle Nick! Yoo-hoo!"

I look up to see Sage hanging over the railing outside the Wonder Workshop on the second floor. I wave back and mount the stairs to join her.

"What are you doing here?"

She displays a mistletoe dangling from a ribbon, then jerks a thumb toward the glass wall behind her. "Clem Stillwater and his grandson are helping me and Thyme 3D-print favors for the open house. See?"

I wave to Thyme and the Stillwaters inside the workshop, then lean forward to examine the ornament. "Very nice. Have you seen Noelle?"

Her eyes light up. "Oh, are you ready to go to the strip club?"

I mean, that's what it sounds like she says. I'm obviously mishearing her. I shake my head like a wet dog. "Come again?"

"Crud." She clamps a hand over her mouth.

Watching us through the glass, Thyme seems to sense trouble. She slips out the door to join us.

"Did you tell him she opened the clue without him?" she hisses at her sister through clenched teeth.

Sage screws up her face in an apologetic expression.

"Nevermind that. What's this about a strip club?"

Thyme sighs heavily. "Noelle said the clue directed her to a place called Dancing Ladies. "

"Really?"

"Yeah, it said something like ‘go to the place where there are lords a-leaping and ladies dancing.'"

I frown. "That does definitely point to Dancing Ladies." But it feels wrong. "I'm surprised whoever set up the hunt used the same song twice. There must be a thousand Christmas carols to choose from."

Sage nods in agreement. "That's what Noelle said, too. She called it unoriginal and on the nose."

"Hmm. Do you know where she is? She's not at the desk."

They exchange a look.

"That's where she was the last time we saw her," Thyme says.

"Maybe she went to look for the guy in the hat and sunglasses again?" Sage suggests.

Until this moment, I thought ‘my blood runs cold' was just a saying. But, turns out, it's not. My blood runs cold.

"Who?" My voice is hard.

They both rear their heads back and give me wide-eyed looks.

"Um, some guy knocked down this tile thing a little girl was building. Then he pushed her. She told Noelle he was wearing a baseball hat and pair of sunglasses. She's been on a mission to find him," Sage explains tentatively.

Thyme jumps in. "That's why she opened the clue, Uncle Nick. While she was looking for the jerk, the envelope with the clue went missing. We helped her find it and begged her to open it. She wanted to wait for you, but we were pretty relentless. Sorry. "

I wave off the apology. "It's fine. Don't worry about that. I need to find her right away."

Adrenaline pounds through my veins. It can't be a coincidence that the man from the jewelry store turned up here. Or that the clue, at least temporarily, disappeared. Or that someone was in the woods. Or. Or. Or. My mind races.

I turn and look down over the railing to the first floor, swiveling my head until I spot Farah. I whip back around to my nieces. "I'll see you back at the inn later." I leave them standing there and take the stairs two at a time to the ground floor.

"Farah!" I shout as I run over to her.

Startled, she jumps. "Mr. Jolly? Is everything okay?"

I ignore the question. "Where's Noelle?"

She smooths her headscarf with one hand and gives me a worried look. "She had to run an errand."

"Did she say where she was going?"

"No."

She wouldn't have gone to Dancing Ladies alone. Would she? Even as I have the thought, I know she would, and did. I have to go there. Now. My racing mind screeches to a halt as I remember that Noelle drove us into town. My truck is miles away at the fishing cabin.

I eye Farah for a moment. Then I say, "Can I borrow your car?"

It's a big ask, but the teenager doesn't hesitate. She reaches into her pocket for her keys.

"Sure. But, just so you know, it's running on fumes. I was supposed to get gas on my way to work but there was a line, and I didn't want to be late. "

"I'll fill it up," I tell her. "As a thank you."

She grins and drops the keys into my palm. "Awesome." Her eyes spark and her hand returns to her pocket. "Wait. Take this, too." She pulls out a sealed envelope labeled Clue No. 4 and holds it out to me.

I take it and study it for a moment. Turning it over, I confirm that it's unopened. "Where did you get this?"

"Noelle must have dropped it. I guess someone picked it up and threw it away. Brent Stillwater found it in the wastepaper basket in the restroom and brought it to me."

"Thanks." Then I frown. "What was he doing going through the bathroom trash?"

She drops her voice to a whisper. "I don't mean to be unkind, Mr. Jolly. I understand he's a genius or whatever, but he's an unusual little kid. Who knows why he does anything ?"

"Fair enough." I pocket the clue and head toward the back of the building. Then I remember I don't know what she drives and turn on my heel. "What's your ride?"

"It's the white Nissan Altima parked at the end of the lot. Look for the pink cheetah print steering wheel cover." She shares this information with a proud smile.

"Okay … thanks. I guess."

As I run out the door, I remind myself beggars can't be choosers and that, as a girl dad, I've driven worse. The Tuscadaro pink Jeep Wrangler Merry had in high school, for instance.

I repeat this reminder when I cram myself behind the wheel of Farah's car, turn the key in the ignition, and have my eardrums nearly blown out by blaring K-pop music. And, again when the fuel indicator warning light confirms that I'll be lucky to make it to the gas station before the little sedan runs out of gas.

By some miracle, I coast down Silver Bell Lane to the nearest filling station and putter to an open fuel pump. As I fill the tank, I tap my foot and will the gas to flow faster. I don't know exactly what's going on, but this much, I do know: Noelle shouldn't be out roaming alone while a strange guy's lurking around town. The pump clicks off, and I jump back in the car and pull out like I'm being chased.

I'm coming, Noe. Don't do anything stupid.