CHAPTER 37

CHAPTER 37

Obviously Eli didn't believe her.

He glared at her as she made her way into the kitchen and sat on one of the barstools at the peninsula. Her heart was hammering, but it slowed as she watched Neal concoct the frothy drink, adding whiskey from a bottle that was rapidly emptying, then the eggnog, a little powdered sugar, and a whisper of vanilla. "My own special recipe," he said with a smile that might have been disarming if she wasn't so pissed at him. He added a dash of nutmeg across the top and even went so far as to squirt a dollop of whipped cream across the top.

"That's decadent," she said.

"I know." He slid the drink to her. "Marilee's idea, and it's Christmas."

"Dad wouldn't let me have any booze," Marilee complained from her chair near the fire as the music died. "And he didn't have any cherries either."

"My bad," he said as Brooke took a taste of the drink and forced a smile. Meanwhile, Eli found his jacket, threw it on, and went outside. A few minutes later she heard the sound of an axe splitting wood.

Leah looked out the window and shook her head. "I guess someone's taking out his frustrations. He misplaced his wallet and is really pissed about it. So much for the Christmas spirit."

Brooke steered the conversation back to the drinks. "The whipped cream's a good idea," she told her daughter but let her eyes wander to the room, searching for the best place to hide a camera. She settled on the Christmas tree, where it would provide a panoramic view of the great room, the back door, and most of the kitchen. Once everyone went upstairs she could place it on an upper branch. Rather than Elf on a Shelf this Christmas, she decided, they would have Spy in the Sky.

How the Harmon family had evolved.

She took another sip and managed a smile, the wallet heavy in her pocket, the knife pressed hard to her calf.

Leah was fussing with the record player again, slipping an old LP onto the spindle, when she suddenly stopped. "Oh Lord, what's Shep got?"

"What?" Brooke saw that Shep had returned to his bed and was chewing on a toy. "It's just his crab," she said, seeing the toy she'd stuffed back into the closet when she'd found the bracelet Gideon had left wrapped around its claw.

"No," Leah said, her voice rising. "No, that's not it." Her eyes were rounding and she dropped the LP, letting out a small scream as she backed away from the dog and his bed. "Oh God, what kind of sick . . . ?"

"What?" Brooke was across the room in an instant. "Up," she said to the dog and he scrambled to his feet, dropping the toy on his cushion. Beside the crab, in two pieces, was the figurine of Joseph. His robed body in one spot, his bearded, severed head next to it. Red paint, made to look like blood, was visible on his short neck.

"Is that . . . is that blood?" Leah shrieked as she backed away.

"What the fu—?" Neal had run into the room and Marilee had joined them.

"Not blood," Marilee said and didn't seem disturbed at all. "It's nail polish." She picked up both pieces, her fingers near the jagged neck and severed head. Her nails were a perfect match to the stain on the tiny face. "Bloodie-Rosie," she said. "My favorite color."

"You did this?" Leah cried.

"What?" Marilee shook her head, her messy bun almost coming loose. "Of course not! Jes—"

Leah's face was a mask of horror. "I just can't even . . ." She shuddered visibly, her face pale as death. "How in the name of sweet heaven did it get on the statue?" She was asking the room at large, but her gaze had landed on Neal.

"Hey, don't look at me. I have no idea. None! The figurine was missing when we set up the crèche," Neal said, backing away, palms outward, as if he expected her to physically attack him.

"Well, it's not funny. It's not funny at all. It's sacrilegious and sick, sick, sick!" Her lips curled backward in disgust and she leveled her gaze at Brooke. "Is this your idea of a joke?"

"What? No! Like Neal said, it was missing from the rest of the set when we unpacked it. And why would I do that? And put it where Shep could choke on it?"

"You?" She turned her outraged gaze back to Marilee. "You're the one who owns and recognizes the nail polish."

"I already said I didn't!" Marilee pointed out, readjusting the band holding her hair away from her face. "Seriously? You think I would do that?" She pointed to the headless statue. "It was missing before I got here. And really, why would I?"

"Why would anyone?" Leah said, her eyes narrowing, and she rounded on Brooke again. "Why would anyone want to spoil Christmas?"

At that moment Eli, his arms laden with kindling, walked into the room, frigid air sweeping inside. "What's going on?" He kicked the door shut, then walked to the fire.

"It's horrible!" Leah said as he dropped the kindling onto the hearth and began stacking it. "Someone took one of Nana's figurines from the crèche and . . . and mutilated it."

"They did what?"

Was his concern real?

"See this!" Leah was suddenly bold enough to pick up the statue and march it back to the fireplace where Eli was still standing.

"Ooh." He turned away. "What happened?"

Eagerly, Leah filled him in on what she'd discovered. "It's someone's idea of a sick prank. Just awful."

"I wonder whose idea?" Brooke said as her gaze fell hard on Eli.

"For the love of—are you kidding me?" Leah let out a puff of disbelief.

Neal tried to be the voice of reason. "So let's just glue him back together, put a little nail polish remover on him, and set him up where he belongs."

"Like it never happened?" Leah said and sent Brooke a glare that was guaranteed to cut through the hardest of steel. "This is all part of a demented attempt to ruin Christmas. And we all know who's behind it!"

She obviously meant Brooke, but for once she didn't rise to the bait. She didn't have time. A beheaded statuette was one thing; child's play, she figured. She had to find a way to expose a con man—a dangerous man—and stop a wedding.

"It's Christmas, for God's sake!" Leah was visibly shaking. "I don't care who did this," she said, but they all knew it to be a lie. "Nothing's going to destroy this holiday or my—our wedding!" she declared. "And tonight we're going to midnight mass, and we're going to learn the true meaning of Christmas if it kills us!" When no one argued she lifted her chin. "And . . . and we might even join a caroling group or whatever, but this year, the year I'm getting married, it's going to be special!" She fought tears as she started for the stairs, then glanced over her shoulder, her eyebrows pinched together. "Coming?" she said to Eli, and it sounded more like a command than a question.

"In a sec," he promised. "Just got to get something out of the shed. I left my gloves out there."

"Fine." Leah didn't wait, just marched up the stairs.

Marilee's cell phone chirped and she, spying the incoming number on the phone's screen, answered it with a smile. "Hi . . . yeah, you too." Then, seeing that her mother was watching, she added, "Hold on a sec" as she hustled up the stairs. A pause and then, "Just the usual family drama," she said, her voice fading. A second later an upper door shut.

Eli walked outside again.

"I guess we should get ready for mass too," Neal said, reluctance heavy in his voice. "But first I'd better fix this guy." Neal carried the figurine of Joseph into the laundry area.

Brooke let out a breath. This was probably as alone as she was going to get, so she had to take a chance. Nerves strung tight, she carried a chair in from the dining room, climbed onto the seat, and pretended to mess with the Christmas lights. Instead, she slipped a tiny camera from her pocket and glued it quickly to one of the highest branches.

"Hey, what're you doing?" Neal asked, and her heart sank.

Had he seen what she was up to?

She started climbing off the chair.

"Careful!" he warned.

Too late! As she stepped off the chair, she tripped slightly, and down she went, the chair clattering loudly.

Shep, startled, scrambled to his feet, barking.

As Brooke landed, she saw Eli standing on the other side of the window, as if he'd been standing there for a while, as if he'd watched her plant the camera.

"Brooke! For the love of—" Neal knelt down next her. "Are you okay?" he asked, his forehead furrowed with worry.

"I—I think so." She stood with his help, then limped to the couch. "Nothing broken, pretty sure."

"But a sprain? Geez, I've heard those can be worse sometimes."

"I just twisted my ankle again, the same one as last year." The ankle that had been injured in her fight with Gideon on his boat and she'd lied that she'd tripped while running.

As if he read her mind, Eli smiled behind the cold glass.

Footsteps pounded from upstairs and Marilee rushed into the room. "What happened?"

Before she could explain Leah had hurried back to the living room. She was barefoot but already changed into a long tunic with gold threads through the creamy fabric. "Brooke," she said with some real empathy in her voice.

"Took a tumble," Brooke explained. "Just adjusting the lights." She hitched her chin toward the tree. "But . . . but I'll be fine."

"I hope so," Marilee said, her deftly plucked eyebrows drawn together in worry.

Neal scooted the offensive chair toward the couch where she was sitting and set a throw pillow on it. "Keep your ankle elevated. I'll get some ice." He set the repaired but still bloodied Joseph on the mantel and dashed to the kitchen.

As Leah surveyed the scene, Eli entered. She offered him a weak smile, then asked Brooke, "So . . . you can still go to midnight mass? Right?"

Of course not.Brooke shrugged, tried to appear disappointed. "Don't think so."

"A shame," Eli said, his brown eyes assessing, a hint of sarcasm in his words.

Neal returned with a Ziploc bag of ice and a kitchen towel. He helped her off with her boot and sock and she felt Eli's sheathed knife press against her opposite calf. "This Christmas has been a real comedy of errors," he remarked.

You don't know the half of it, Brooke thought, but just sucked in her breath as he pressed the makeshift ice bag to her ankle.

"Doesn't seem to be swelling," Neal observed.

"Not yet." Brooke adjusted the bag. "Maybe it won't if I elevate and ice."

"The RICE method," Eli said with a nod. Was that a reassuring smile? Or a smirk within his beard-shadowed jaw. "Rest. Ice. Compress. Elevate."

"I think I saw an ACE bandage upstairs." Marilee spun and flew up the stairs. Shep, still excited, chased after her. In less than a minute they both returned and she handed the elastic wrap to her father.

"Let me," Eli said and snagged the bandage from Neal's hand. "I do this for a living, you know."

Right. He was supposed to be some kind of athletic trainer.

As Leah watched her fiancé, Eli sat in the chair, lifting Brooke's leg gently and placing her heel over his thigh. He wrapped the bandage around her leg as if he'd done it a thousand times. Every time his fingertips touched her bare skin she forced herself not to react. Not to pull back. Not to show that she was repulsed. From the outside it seemed normal. Quick. Efficient. But she felt every brush of his skin on hers and once, when he glanced up at her to ask, "How's that?" she saw that his pupils had dilated slightly.

She held his gaze.

"Good. It's good."

"Then let's go," Leah said. "The ferry leaves in less than thirty minutes."

Brooke forced herself to her feet and sucked in her breath before crumpling back onto the couch. "I can't, Leah," she said as earnestly as she could.

"What? But this is important! I told you!"

Neal shook his head. "Maybe we should just—"

"No! No! We're going!" Leah was emphatic.

Neal argued, "But Brooke can't go and someone should stay with her."

"I will!" Marilee volunteered.

"No!" Leah cast a disparaging, almost disbelieving glare at her sister. "Midnight mass is what Nana would have wanted! And . . . and I need her blessing for this wedding, even if it's from the other side of the veil." Sniffing loudly, she said, "We're all going. Or the rest of us anyway. If Brooke can't make it, that's on her conscience." Leah motioned to the Nativity scene on the mantel with its injured Joseph, then to the cross mounted over the archway to the entry hall. "It's what Nana would have wanted."

Amen, sister, Brooke thought.

Everyone else went upstairs, ostensibly to get ready. She heard footsteps and bits of conversation. Marilee arguing that she didn't want to go. Neal placating her. Leah's higher-pitched insistence and Neal, again, this time calming his sister-in-law. Brooke thought about that, about how Neal and Leah had lied to her, had tried to manipulate her. She sensed there was a lot more going on there and wondered about all of Neal's business trips. Some to San Francisco. Some to LA. Once to Portland. As recently as September, and then he hadn't flown anywhere.

Not since Leah had met her latest soulmate in the form of Eli Stone or Gideon Ross.

Lord, what a mess.

The first person down was Eli.

"Sure you can't make it?" he asked, wandering into the living room and rubbing the back of his neck.

"Don't think so."

"Leah is disappointed."

"She'll get over it."

Marilee wandered downstairs. She glanced from Eli to her mother. "What's going on?"

"Just trying to talk your mom into joining us."

"She can't!" Marilee said almost angrily. "She's hurt."

"Yeah—I saw her fall," Eli said as he turned to Brooke. "So, what were you doing on the chair? Fiddling with the lights, is that what you said?"

Bastard.He knew! He'd seen!

"What does it matter? She fell. Probably sprained her ankle. She can't come." Rolling her eyes and shoving her hands through her hair, then adjusting her earring, Marilee said, "Can we just go already?" just as Neal and Leah returned.

"Yes, it's time. Come on, come on." Leah made a scooting motion with her fingers, and finally everyone bundled up in the front hall.

Even Eli.

Especially Eli.

Brooke waited as Neal opened the front door to the whistling wind and endless snow. "What a night," he muttered. "We'll be lucky if the ferry's running in this weather."

"It is. I checked," Leah assured him and marched into the elements.

Everyone else followed.

Eli stared through the archway at Brooke for a long moment, then pulled the door shut.

You damned psycho.

Brooke waited.

Within minutes she heard two engines starting.

Then, suddenly, right on cue, there was loud yelling, voices raised. A swear word or two audible. Car doors opening and shutting.

Neal returned and stalked into the living room. "One of the tires on Leah's car has been slashed, if you can believe that."

"What?" Brooke said, pushing herself upright, hoping to appear surprised. "Slashed? What do you mean?"

"I mean the goddamned tire's been intentionally sliced."

Leah swept in, boot heels clicking, her coat billowing behind her. "On Christmas Eve!"

Eli slid into the house as well, but he stayed in the entry hall, where he could survey the living room through the archway. Marilee skirted him, slipping through the dining area to the living room.

Leah was outraged, her cheeks burning bright. " Some little fu—jerkwad flattened my damned tire. And we don't have a spare! The car didn't come with one. Can you believe that? It's a new thing. And the company's supposed to come to your aid, like pronto, you know. You think we can get one tonight, on Christmas Eve, on this island? No!" She took a furious breath. "Or tomorrow? Do you think they'll come on Christmas Day? What are the chances? Holy fucking shit!" She kicked at a throw pillow that had fallen to the floor. It slammed against the old rocker, setting it in motion.

"Maybe it's a sign," Marilee suggested.

"What? A sign?" Leah repeated, disbelieving. "Like from God? Like He's saying, ‘Don't come to my house and celebrate my son's birth?' Sure! If it's a sign from anyone, it's from the devil! The same wacko who cut off Joseph's head and did God knows what else!" She threw up her arms theatrically, then slid down the edge of the fireplace to the hearth and buried her face in her hands. "I don't know what else could go wrong."

Oh, there's so much more, Brooke thought but didn't say a word. She noticed Eli's eyes narrow a bit as he stepped through the arch and into the living room.

"It'll be all right," Neal offered lamely. "We can still make the ferry if we hurry." That was true. Only twice a year, on Christmas Eve and New Year's Eve, did the ferry run this late, but they still had time.

When no one responded Neal added, "Look, we can all go in our SUV. But you," he said, looking at his wife, "you'll be stuck here without wheels."

"I think I'll survive." Would she? Not if Eli/Gideon had his way, she thought. Their last battle had been nearly to the death. And she had more she had to do. But of course, she couldn't admit to any of that, so instead she stroked the dog's head. "Shep and I will hold down the fort."

Leah drew in a long breath and found her feet again. "Okay. Fine. Let's do it!"

She was heading for the door, but as she swept out she glanced back at Brooke, her eyes clouding for a second; then she shook her head, as if dislodging a wayward thought before she marched outside. Everyone else followed and Neal shut the door behind them with a final, timber-shaking thud.

Once more Brooke waited.

Heard the SUV's engine roar to life and the crunch of tires in the driveway.

Shep looked expectantly at the door.

"Shh, boy, not yet," she said, stroking his scruffy head. Finally there was silence, and she swung her heel off the chair where it had rested and made her way to the front of the house. She peered out the window of the dining room and saw nothing but the steady falling snow.

Even the taillights of the SUV had disappeared.

"‘I think we're alone now,'" she sang, but still waited, watching the Kit-Cat Klock tick off the seconds, its eyes moving back and forth, its tail swinging in rhythm.

Five minutes passed.

Then five more.

She glanced at her watch.

The ferry, if it was running, had left the island.

To be certain she slipped her phone out of her pocket and typed a group text to Neal and Marilee.

Did you make it?

A few seconds later bubbles appeared on the screen and then her husband sent back a thumbs-up emoji and Marilee replied:

Yeah. On the ferry. Brrr. Wish you were with us.

Marilee added a Mrs. Santa Claus emoji.

A blade of guilt sliced through Brooke's heart.

Had things been different she would have gone with them to the service.

Had things been different she would trust her husband and her sister.

Had things been different she never would have allowed Gideon Ross into her life.

Now it was time to get rid of him forever.