A DEAD END CHRISTMAS, page 17
Judd was the first to rush up the stairs. He told us how UltraShopMart would crush our small businesses and turn entrepreneurs into low-paid employees, and he was very convincing. I was absolutely against giving up the pawnshop and my independence to stock shelves at a massive megastore.
Then Lauren and Mellie walked onstage together and talked about the effect the proposed store would have on their businesses. Their points were both thoughtful and well-coordinated and made a real impression on everyone, as I could tell from the murmurs I overheard.
"In conclusion, my deli and Mellie's bakery will no doubt both go the way of the Floridian dodo if we allow UltraShopMart to build its store here," Lauren said defiantly.
Mellie leaned forward and spoke into the mike. "And free donuts at my place in the morning for anybody who wants to talk strategy to stop them."
The biggest cheer of the night went up from almost everybody, with the pointed exception of Delvaney Craven, who looked like he'd just swallowed a hedgehog.
Jack leaned over and murmured in my ear. "Floridian dodo?"
"I'll tell you later."
A couple of other people walked up to give brief comments, both in favor of the UltraShopMart. It surprised me to see that one of them was Julio Martinez.
"But he works for Dave," I whispered.
He stood at the podium, twisting his hat in his hands, and cleared his throat a couple of times before he spoke. "Well, I guess I just wanted to say that the jobs would be good for Dead End. I work for Wolf Construction, and Dave is a great boss. But construction is a seasonal gig, even in Florida, and my family has to eat all year long. Plus, I've got some cousins who need work. When you're voting, just remember that not everybody is a small business owner in Dead End. A lot of us just want to work and feed our kids."
He got a cheer, too, and his words made me rethink my knee-jerk hatred of the idea of a megastore.
Because he was right.
Not everyone was lucky enough to have a business drop in her lap like I'd been. Not that the circumstances had been lucky; I'd give up my shop in a heartbeat to have Jeremiah back. But the fact was, he'd died and left me half of Dead End Pawn, and Jack had shown up in town soon after and forced me to take his half in exchange for the right to build an attached office for his new private investigations business.
Saying yes had been one of the best decisions of my life.
But if it hadn't been for that, or if Jeremiah had sold the shop or left it to someone else, I'd be looking for work too. Would a job stocking shelves or as a cashier at UltraShopMart look good then?
Definitely something to ponder.
Aunt Ruby went to the podium after that and wrapped things up. "If there's nobody else who wants to speak, we'll—"
"Reckon I want to speak, Miss Ruby."
Everybody turned to stare at the owner of that rumbling voice, and Rooster made his way down the aisle toward the stage.
"Oh, boy," I muttered, my hands involuntarily clenching.
"His notes were excellent, remember?" Jack took my hand and gently stroked the back of it until I relaxed my fist.
"Yeah, but not everybody is going to know that he has an alibi, and—"
A woman I didn't know, but who looked familiar—maybe one of Susan's distant cousins?—stood, punched a fist in the air, and started shouting.
"Murderer! We don't want to hear from a murderer!"
Pandemonium ensued.
27
Tess
Things went to heck in a handbasket after that. Aunt Ruby called for order, but everybody ignored her.
Andy, who'd been standing against the wall beside the stage during the meeting, tried to calm things down. He yelled to be heard over the uproar. "Mr. Jenkins is not a suspect."
"Why not?" Somebody yelled back. "Because he's your buddy? Maybe we need better police in town!"
"Yeah," shouted the woman who'd started the fracas. "You and the conveniently absent sheriff clearly can't handle it."
So much for her being one of Susan's cousins. Loyalty was important in the Gonzalez family. Not to mention, nobody in their family would be stupid enough to criticize Susan in a public forum when her brother Carlos, the scary vampire, would be sure to hear about it.
Susan was a public servant, and she was calm under pressure, so she'd undoubtedly handle any criticism with aplomb. But people who knew Carlos did not talk crap about his family.
"Oh, boy," I muttered.
After that, it was a free-for-all. Everybody was shouting at everybody else. After a few more futile attempts to call for order, Aunt Ruby threw her hands in the air and marched off to meet Uncle Mike, who strode out from backstage.
Andy blew a whistle, long and loud, and then he and the temporary deputy, Underhill, each took a side of the room and started trying to herd people out. When Andy caught sight of Jack, Lucky, and me, he gestured to us in a pretty clear call for help.
Jack sighed, but stood. "Since they outnumber the deputies four hundred to two, I guess we should pitch in. I'll take the far side, and you take this side, Lucky."
"I'll take the middle," I decided.
Jack's eyes widened in alarm, but then he grinned. "Tess, you're brilliant. Nobody can get people out of here faster than you can."
And that's what we did.
I leaned forward and asked Mrs. Hamilton and her friend to wait a moment, because I didn't want them to get trampled in the crush of people, and then I followed Jack out to the center aisle. While he moved across the rows of seats to the far side of the room, I put a big smile on my face, held out my hands, and raised my voice.
"Hey, everybody! Happy holidays! The mayor and deputies want us to move along, so how about we head for the doors? Time to go home and wrap presents, right?"
The people nearest me turned to glance my way, a few of them scowling, but mouths dropped open and feet started moving when they saw me walk toward them with my hands outstretched.
I was counting on my assumption that nobody in the history of Christmas had ever asked Santa to tell them how they were going to die.
Word spread, and I'm proud to say that my technique worked even better to break up the crowd than the sight of armed deputies, an ex-special forces soldier, or a tiger shifter. People grumbled and complained when they saw Jack, Lucky, Andy, or Deputy Underhill coming.
But people moved when they saw me approach—even people who liked me but were probably afraid that I'd accidentally jostle them in the crowd.
Within minutes, the auditorium was empty, and we were standing outside in the cold, clear December night. It had to be down in the mid-thirties, and the light jacket I'd worn was not keeping me warm in the slightest. I shivered but waited, because Andy was making his way over to us while the temporary deputy kept the crowd moving away from the building and out toward, hopefully, their cars and homes.
"Thanks, guys. I appreciate it," Andy said.
"No problem, but it would be a good idea if you spread the word that Rooster has an alibi," Jack said. "That turned ugly pretty fast."
Andy threw his hands in the air. "I did! Put it on the town text alert just before the meeting. I guess nobody had time to read it."
"Or they read it and just wanted to cause trouble," I said. "I know personally, or at least can recognize the faces of almost everybody in town, and it seemed to me like there were more strangers than I'd expect to see at a town hall meeting."
"Yeah, Tess, but it's Christmas," Lucky said, shoving his hands in his pockets and hunching his shoulders against the cold. "Lots of people have extended family in town for the holidays."
"Of course," I said, feeling foolish. "I hadn't thought of that."
Jack caught me shivering and put an arm around me to pull me close, and I snuggled into him. When shifters were in human form, their body temperatures ran a few degrees higher than the normal 98.6. Jack radiated heat like a furnace, which was wonderful.
"I have news," Andy said, looking too steamed over the meeting chaos to be affected by the cold. "You can hear this too, Lucky, but it's part of the official police investigation, so keep it to yourself, okay?"
Lucky nodded somberly. "Absolutely."
"The Nashville cops say that they don't have any suspects or any reason to think that anybody up there would have wanted to kill Darryl. They did some investigating and found out basically that he was as annoying at home as he was here, but they didn't find any evidence or even any rumors that anybody cared about him enough to kill him. I get the feeling they weren't going to put any real effort into it, what with bare-bones holiday staffing hours." Andy rocked back on his heels, frowning. "Darryl's parents have arranged for the body to be transported to Nashville for the funeral. Emeril and Harold are going up too, I'm sure."
I shot a look up at Jack. If Emeril had actually had anything to do with Darryl's death … Should I tell Andy my suspicions now?
Jack moved one shoulder in a barely there shrug, leaving it up to me. I fidgeted for a moment or two while Andy and Lucky talked about the meeting, but ultimately, I just couldn't do it. What had I really heard, after all? I needed to at least talk to the Petersons before I snitched on them to the police, even Andy.
Deputy Underhill walked over to us when the crowd had dwindled to only a few people chatting—the temperature had probably had as much to do with it as anything—and Andy introduced her to Lucky.
"And you remember Tess and Jack, of course."
"Yes. Hello. Thanks for the help in there," she said, giving me a look filled with open curiosity but no judgment or disgust. "Miss Callahan, I know it's not my business, but I just wanted to say I researched you."
I sighed. Of course she had. I steeled myself for what might be coming. Hopefully she wasn't one of the zealots who thought I was a devil spawn because of my gift.
"Anyway, I just wanted to say how much I admire you. It must be a tough road to travel, with an ability like that. I, ah, I know a bit about that. So, anyway, thanks again for your help."
"I—thank you. I appreciate it. A lot. It's definitely been not the most fun thing in the world," I said, surprised and touched. "If you're still assigned here after the holidays, maybe we could have lunch? And call me Tess."
It was her turn to look surprised, and her wide smile—the first I'd seen from her—lit up her entire face.
"I'd love that. And I'm Lizzie." She turned to face Andy. "I'm off duty now if you don't need me for anything else. I've got a long drive ahead of me."
"About that," Andy said. "My mom has a newly renovated guest room she's been dying to try out on someone. She asked me to tell you she'd be pleased to host you while you're on duty here."
"Oh, but … I couldn't impose …" Lizzie looked flustered. "I mean—"
"Trust me," Andy said, grinning. "The imposition would be if you say no. She's already bought all the ingredients for a huge breakfast. Do you have the stuff you'd need to stay?"
"Yes, I always keep a bag, but … are you sure? It would really be great not to have to drive the hour back and forth every day while I'm here."
"You should stay," I told her. "Mrs. Kelly makes the most amazing biscuits."
"She really does," Andy confirmed. "And she has homemade apple butter."
Lizzie smiled again and gave in. "You had me at biscuits. I will, then. Thank you. I'll just get my stuff from the station and clock out. I'll see you later, everyone."
We said our goodbyes, and she headed off with a spring in her step. I should know better than to let first impressions turn me against someone. I had a feeling I was going to enjoy getting to know Deputy Underhill.
Lucky said his goodbyes, too, after promising to come into town the next day to make a full report on the intruders who'd attacked his business. When it was just the three of us, I asked Andy what was next.
"I honestly don't know. I'm going to keep digging into Darryl's interactions with people around town and investigating. Somebody has heard something that might give me a lead, even if they don't realize it." Andy shook his head, looking defeated. "Maybe those people in the meeting were right. Maybe this job is too much for me, especially when Susan is gone."
"That's not true," I said hotly, guilt churning in my belly. Jack and I had both overheard things that might give Andy not just one suspect, but two. But I just wasn't ready to throw friends under the bus on such slim evidence. "You're doing a great job. You'll figure this out, and we'll help."
Jack nodded. "We definitely will. Call me tomorrow and let me know what you need. Just until Susan gets back, and you're fully staffed, okay? But until then, I'll help if you want me."
Andy squared his shoulders. "Thanks, Tess, Jack. You're right. I won't give up so easily. Okay, I'll call you, Jack. Tess, good luck at the shop tomorrow. Final shopping day blowout, right?"
"Yep. Stop by and pick up a present or two, if you need any. Sale prices all day. Oh! And we need to talk about that enchanted tree. I'm worried that it still may be stealing presents from kids in town, but now the bad guys are getting them."
More guilt. I should have burned the tree the second I figured out what it was doing. My stomach twisted into a pretzel. A big, acidic, pretzel.
"Did you get anything on your security footage?"
"What?" It took me a moment to shake off thoughts of pretzels. "Oh. No."
Jack told him about the interference.
"Great. Well, I'd hate for something to be easy," Andy said, rolling his eyes. "Good night, guys."
We said good night, and he strode off to the station. I tugged on Jack's arm when he showed no sign of moving. "Hey! We need to go. I'm exhausted and freezing, and I have to work—"
"Shh," he murmured, patting my hand. He had a far-off look in his eyes, and I realized he was listening to someone or something in the distance. I stopped talking and listened as hard as I could, but heard nothing except for the sound of a car driving by, probably carrying some of the last of the town hall attendees.
I followed his line of sight and realized he was staring at the corner of the building.
"Stay here," he said urgently. "Or, better yet, go start the truck and get warm. I'll be right back."
With that, he dropped the keys in my hand and then raced off, running on the grass instead of the sidewalk.
Probably so whoever he was listening to didn't hear him coming.
I shoved his keys in my pocket, jumped onto the grass so I could run silently too, and started after him, shaking my head at his foolishness.
"'Go start the truck.'"
Please.
28
Jack
I took off running, hoping to get to the back of the building before Craven and whoever he'd been arguing with took off. I gave it a ninety-five percent chance Tess would ignore my request to go warm up the truck—and stay safe—and instead follow me.
Then I heard her footsteps. Make that one hundred percent.
I gritted my teeth and took half a second to consider turning around to escort her to the truck and lock her in it. Then I took another half-second to enjoy imagining the look of outrage on her face if I tried.
Tess's beautiful eyes darkened when she was annoyed and sparkled with icy blue fire when she'd gone past irritation to anger, and I was ridiculously helpless when she turned that outrage on me. It didn't help calm a situation when all I wanted to do was lift her into my arms and kiss the breath out of her.
I didn't think we were heading into danger. I'd heard Delvaney Craven reading the riot act to a person or persons who must work for him and UltraShopMart. Nothing about Craven worried me. He was a pompous suit.
Even when he'd been yelling at his minions, the dressing down had been so vague, dull, and filled with cliches that I hadn't paid much attention to it. Mainly, his whiny attempts to sound important had been pathetic:
"So hard to get good help these days."
"Do you like your job? I can fire you right now!"
"How can you screw up such a simple job so spectacularly?"
And so on and so forth.
But when I'd heard him mention something about the excavation site, I'd tuned into the argument more closely. Specifically, something about keeping trespassers out because of what they'd found in the pit when they'd prematurely pulled the trigger and begun to dig.
That had made me curious, and maybe even a tad concerned.
After all, this was Dead End.
That excavation could have turned up pirate treasure or dead bodies.
Silver or skulls.
Gold or ghouls.
Suddenly, I had a driving desire to discover exactly what they'd found in that pit. I raced to the corner and then slowed to a saunter as I rounded it in time to hear Craven shouting.
"I gave each of you discretion to choose how to protect the site. You all chose your own paths, stupid though some of them may have been. What I want to know is how could you get one thing—one thing—so wrong?"
Interesting. I suddenly desperately wanted to know what the discretionary paths were about and what the one thing was that they'd gotten so wrong. They still hadn't heard or seen me, so I smiled and waved. "Hello, boys."
All three of them wheeled around to stare at me. Craven, in his expensive suit, and two men who must be his employees or thugs, both dressed in jeans, flannel, and leather jackets, stood next to a black SUV.
Craven visibly flinched, and a brief look of panic crossed his face before he schooled his expression back to its usual fake cheer.
The shorter, slender thug put a hand up like he was hiding his face and turned away.
The taller, broad, bald pile of muscle nearest to me twined his fingers together and cracked his knuckles, aiming what he must have believed was a terrifying smile my way.
I burst out laughing.
"Listen," I said, shoving my hands in my pockets and ambling toward them. "Thanks. It has been a long day, and I needed a chuckle. So, Chuckles, how about you say something like 'this town isn't big enough for both of us' to cap it all off?"
