Harriet picked up the empty dinner dishes and stacked them before carrying them to the sink.
“I hope you guys won’t think this is too corny, but since we’re getting our pictures taken with Santa this evening, I thought we could have them taken in matching sweaters.”
James groaned.
“Please tell me you didn’t. My mom used to make my sister and me wear these terrible matching Christmas sweaters for our holiday pictures. They had bells and bobbles and I don’t know what all hanging off them.”
Luke looked up from his phone.
“I want to see them. The pictures, that is.”
“I’m sure my mother will be happy to show you. And don’t try to tell me you’re excited about being dressed up like a Christmas clown.”
Luke’s face burned red.
“Harriet wouldn’t do that to us? Would she?”
James smiled and watched Harriet as she crossed to the stairs and picked up a shopping bag she’d left on the first step.
“You better hope not.”
Harriet opened the bag and handed the red sweaters to James and Luke and pulled out a green pullover for herself.
“This isn’t bad,” Luke said.
“Don’t sound so amazed,” Harriet said indignantly. She reached back into the bag.
James tried to look inside, but she pulled it away.
“You may have spoken too soon,” he warned Luke.
“O, ye of little faith,” Harriet said, and pulled two dog sweaters from the bottom of the bag, one green and one red. “I figured the boys should be in our first Christmas together picture.”
“What about Fred?” Luke asked.
“As much as I like the idea, there are many problems with that. He hates clothes—don’t ask how I know that, just trust me. Then, there’s the problem of taking him downtown. I like my fingers too much to attempt that. He’s miserable to take to the vet; I can’t imagine taking him out in a crowd.”
Luke reached down and petted the cat, who had appeared at the mention of his name.
“Maybe we can put ink on his feet and let him walk on the matting for the picture.”
James patted him on the back.
“Not a bad idea. You’re kind of a clever kid, you know that?”
Luke blushed.
Harriet folded up her now-empty shopping bag.
“Let’s get into our sweaters and round up the dogs.”
“It’s a plan,” James said and led the way upstairs.
A light snow was falling as James parked the car and Harriet and Luke put leashes on the two dogs. Today was the shortest day of the year—winter solstice—and at six o’clock it was already full dark. The white twinkle lights on the storefronts of Main Street lent a festive touch to the downtown area.
Harriet picked Scooter up.
“I’m going to carry him until we get to the photo booth. I don’t know how Cyrano does with the cold, but if Scooter’s feet get cold, he’ll start whining; and then there will be no hope of getting a good photo.”
James patted Scooter’s head.
“Cyrano is tough. He’ll be fine as long as he’s got his sweater on.”
Harriet looked back at the dachshund just as Lauren bent down, petting him. Les was a few paces behind her.
“Are you two here for Christmas pictures?” Harriet asked.
Lauren rolled her eyes and gave a dramatic sigh.
“Unfortunately, we are. Our mother has insisted on a twin picture every Christmas since we were born.”
“And she buys us hideous matching outfits for the occasion,” Les added. Even his tenor voice was remarkably similar to Lauren’s husky contralto.
James smiled.
“Let’s see them, then.”
The twins looked at each other and sighed again before flashing their coats open. Harriet and James tried to keep from laughing.
Les’s sweater featured a traditional red-suited Santa complete with sack of presents over his shoulder, while Lauren’s featured a female elf in a green fur-trimmed dress holding a festively wrapped package.
“I feel so much better,” James finally said.
Lauren and Les busied themselves zipping their coats.
“Can anyone come to this party?” Connie’s husband Rod asked as he, Connie, and Carla’s daughter Wendy joined them on the sidewalk. Connie wrapped Wendy’s scarf tighter around her neck.
“Have you seen Carla?” she asked. “We’re supposed to meet her here.”
Harriet shifted Scooter in her arms.
“We just got here, and other than Lauren and her brother…”
Lauren shoved her hands into her coat pockets.
“We saw Jenny and her family earlier, but I think they were headed home.”
Les glanced at his watch.
“Can we get this over with?” he asked his sister. “I’m supposed to meet some friends in half an hour.”
The group moved up the block to where the photographer had set up her camera on the sidewalk in front of Kitchen Kouture. The store had replaced its display of table covers with a queen-sized holiday quilt Aunt Beth had made several years ago. It had an off-white background with appliquéd images of gingerbread men, Santas, reindeer, and Christmas trees surrounding a center medallion that portrayed a side view of a winking Santa.
They joined the waiting line of two families. Aunt Beth and Jorge were delivering small paper cups of Mexican hot chocolate advertising Tico’s Tacos. Harriet took one from the tray and looked at the logo on the cup.
“Nice touch. Since you and Jorge are here, how would you like to be in a group photo with James, Luke and I?”
Beth beamed.
“Oh, honey, I think that sounds wonderful.”
They posed for multiple pictures, some with Santa and some without. She stuffed Scooter inside her coat when they’d finished.
“Do you guys mind if we walk up to Blood Moon and peek in the window? I’d like to see if the quilt is still there.”
James put his arm around her shoulders.
“If you think Scooter is warm enough, I’m game.”
Luke picked Cyrano up.
“We’re good.”
The trio made their way up the block through the falling snow. Harriet sniffed and turned her head from side to side.
“Do either of you smell smoke?”
James tilted his head up and sniffed.
“I do.”
Luke pointed up the block.
“There’s smoke is coming out of that building.”
Harriet hurried up the block, unable to run because of the slick sidewalk.
“That’s Blood Moon. Luke, call nine-one-one.”
James matched her pace.
“Don’t even think about going in.”
“My quilt was on a stool just inside the window. If the fire isn’t too bad, I’d like to rescue it.”
James grabbed her arm.
“We need to let the firemen do their job. No quilt is worth risking your life over.”
Sirens already blared as they reached the store. A red ladder truck pulled up to the curb, and several firefighters jumped out dressed in their turnouts, boots, and helmets and headed for the door. One of them came over to where they stood.
“I’m going to need you to leave the area,” he said.
“I have a quilt on a stool inside the door. If it’s possible, I’d like to have it.”
James tried to guide her away. The fireman tilted his helmet up and took a better look at Harriet.
“You’re that quilter lady, right?”
Harriet nodded her head.
“You did some nice work on a quilt for my wife. She won a prize at the fair with it.” He looked toward the building. “No promises, but if I can get the quilt, I will. Now, I really do need you to leave the area.”
Harriet smiled.
“Thanks,” she said, and joined Luke and James, walking back down the block. She pulled her phone from her pocket. “I need to call Morse. She’s going to want to know about this.”
James took Scooter from her so she could make her call.
Morse pulled up next to where they’d stopped to watch just as the fireman brought Harriet her quilt. She held her badge up.
“Do you know the cause of the fire yet?” she asked. She had on a red sweater with metallic gold trim and dark-green leggings. Her hair was neatly coiffed and sported a clip with a sprig of fresh holly. She’d clearly been at a holiday gathering of some sort.
“I’ve called the arson team,” the fireman said. “They’ll make the official determination, but the fire was in the office, and it looks like someone ransacked the place before lighting a wastebasket.” He exchanged a look with Harriet.
“No, Harriet can’t take the quilt with her,” Morse told them. “I’ll tell you what. When they finish processing the scene, if it turns out all the action was in the office, and the quilt wasn’t involved in any way, I’ll bring it to you. Are you going to be around town?”
Beth and Jorge, empty tray dangling from his hand, had joined them as Morse finished speaking.
“We could go back to the restaurant and warm up while you wait,” Jorge offered.
“That’ll work,” Morse said. “I’ll call you if we discover the quilt is not going to be available.”
Harriet settled Scooter and Cyrano in Jorge’s office with Beth’s dog Brownie before rejoining James and Luke in the back room at Tico’s. Connie and Rod were already there, sitting opposite them; Lauren was at the end of the table.
Jorge brought out a steaming pot of Mexican hot chocolate and a dispenser of whipped cream. Aunt Beth followed him with a tray of warmed mugs. Harriet wrapped her hands around her mug as Jorge filled it.
“It’s hard to understand why anyone would want to burn Jade’s store now she’s gone,” she said.”
Lauren sipped her chocolate.
“You’re assuming she is actually gone. Maybe she never left. And just maybe, she burned her own store to make it look like someone else was after her when she’s been behind the problems in town all along.”
“I realize I may be slightly biased due to the whole horse thing,” Harriet said. “But she just didn’t strike me as a criminal mastermind.”
“That’s what’s so diabolical about it,” Lauren said, her voice rising.
Jorge went to the kitchen and returned with a plate of Christmas cookies. Connie took a dark brown crinkle cookie from the plate.
“Are these Mexican-style?” she asked.
Jorge put his hand over his heart.
“I’m injured. How can you believe I would serve anything else?”
Connie laughed.
“Well, you do have Italian night once a month, so we never know what you’re going to do.”
Jorge held the cookie plate in one hand and pointed at each of the selections.
“These are polvorones de canela, a type of cinnamon-sugar cookie. The round ones are hojarascas, or Mexican shortbread.” He moved to the next selection. “These are galletas de Navidad, which are like a blackberry Linzer cookie. Connie is eating a Mexican mocha crinkle, which is self-explanatory, and we finish with chili chocolate cookies.”
Lauren took the plate. “These look delicious.”
Jorge set a galleta de Navidad on a Christmas napkin and handed it to Beth. She savored a bite then set it on the table.
“I can’t believe anyone in our town is so evil they would burn down a small business mere days before Christmas.”
“Murdering people at Christmas is pretty Grinchie, if you ask me,” Harriet said.
Luke ate one of the shortbread cookies and picked up a Mexican crinkle.
“Criminals don’t think like that. They don’t think about anything but where to get their next score, whether it’s money or drugs or whatever.”
James sipped his hot chocolate.
“On a happier note, I’m doing a land-office business on the Christmas tea. I’m thinking about adding a late-afternoon sitting the last few days before Christmas Eve.”
Luke got a confused look on his face.
“What’s a land-office business?”
Connie, the retired teacher, sat up straight in her chair.
“After the War for Independence, the US was very poor. They sold public land to the highest bidder. By the mid-eighteen hundreds, there was a backlog of some ten thousand land-grant applicants. ’Land-office business’ became a metaphor for brisk business, and has been used ever since.”
“How do you know all that?” Luke asked her. “I thought you taught kindergarten.” His face turned red as he realized how he’d sounded.
Connie reached over and patted his hand.
“It’s okay, honey. It’s a valid question. When I went to college, I knew I wanted to teach little ones, but I also wanted to learn about my adopted country, so I double-majored in American history and education.”
Harriet clicked on her phone and glanced at the time. She hoped Morse wasn’t going to be too much longer, as she had a last-minute Christmas quilt project on her machine calling her name.
By the time Detective Morse finally arrived at Tico’s Tacos, Connie had reviewed the process for college admissions from start to finish with Luke while Jorge, Rod, and James had analyzed the upcoming college bowl games. Harriet and Lauren scoured the internet on Lauren’s tablet for any information on the murders of Anthony and Valery, but found nothing new. They were sipping their second hot chocolates in morose silence when the front door chime rang. Morse appeared in the back room moments later, Harriet’s quilt folded over her arm.
James pulled out a chair while Jorge handed her a mug of steaming chocolate. Connie slid her the plate of cookies. Morse gave Harriet her quilt before sitting, and the group waited in silence while she sipped her drink and ate a cookie.
Finally, she set her mug down.
“It appears that someone was looking for something in Jade’s office. All the files were dumped. Pretty much everything was trashed. I’m guessing when they didn’t find it, they decided to burn the place as a precaution, maybe to destroy evidence. Or maybe they were interrupted. In any case, it looks like they lit a wastebasket on fire and set it in the footwell of the desk.”
“What happens next?” Beth asked.
Morse blew out a breath.
“We’ll keep trying to get in touch with Jade, which might be a problem, and then, we’ll figure out who did it and arrest them.”
Harriet wiped her hands on her napkin.
“No offense, but how likely is that?”
“None taken,” Morse said. “And you’re right. Given we have two unsolved murders, and no one was hurt here, plus there’s not a lot of damage…it’s not going to be high on our list. Her insurance company will undoubtedly investigate.” She stared off toward the far end of the room, lost in thought.
“Would we be able to go in and do some clean up before Christmas?” Beth asked. “It would be nice if we could straighten it up a little and get the quilt back in the window. It doesn’t sound like Jade’s going to know what happened for a while and our holiday visitors shouldn’t have to look into a burned-out shop. Jade’s not likely to come back, in any case, even if you do manage to reach her.”
“When her attorney sends me the papers for the horse, I might be able to get contact information from him,” Harriet offered.
“Let me know,” Morse said. “That would be useful.” She looked down at her soot-smudged sweater. “I was thinking I should go back to my party, but maybe not.”
Jorge handed her the cookie plate again.
“Have another cookie.”
Connie pulled her scarf from her purse.
“We better head home. I’ve got things to do yet.” She wrapped the scarf around her neck. “Do any of you want to come out to the homeless camp tomorrow? I’m taking the Christmas cookies Carla and I made to them.”
Harriet wiped crumbs from her hand.
“I can come.”
“I can send a few dozen brownies, if you want,” James added as he tossed his crumpled napkin onto the table.
Connie smiled. “They would like that.”
Jorge stood up.
“I have something for them, too. Wait here.” He disappeared into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later carrying a shopping bag with a box inside. “I was buying some replacement Christmas lights, and I saw these solar powered ones. They claim to work even on cloudy days.”
“That was nice of you,” Connie said. “I think they’ll like that, too.”
“Should I go get the dogs?” Luke asked.
“Sure,” James said, getting up and taking Harriet’s coat from the back of her chair, holding it out so she could slip her arms into the sleeves.
Luke hurried to the back and returned with the two dogs, already wearing their sweaters. Harriet put her knit hat on and picked up her purse.
“Where shall we meet tomorrow?” she asked Connie.
“I’ll come get you,” Connie replied.
“I think I’ll go, too,” Beth decided.
Lauren began bundling up in her coat and knitwear.
“I have to work, but let me know if they need anything.”
With the next day’s plan settled, they all departed into the frozen night.