Cal didn’t panic. Not really. “Did you have someone move it?”
“Move it?” Dana said, her voice a squeak. “The Rocky Mountain Road?”
“Yes.”
“No! No one was supposed to touch it. It’s not there?”
“It’s not where I put it last night.”
“Caramel fudge butter pecan!” Dana rushed into the freezer. Standing beside Cal, she pointed an accusing finger at the Do Not Disturb note attached to a rack. “Calum, why is that note exactly where I left it?”
Cal cursed using the actual words. “I forgot all about that. My client called from jail just as I started to slap the note on the carton. I totally got distracted.”
“Okay. It’s probably no big deal.” Dana turned and left the freezer. Cal followed on her heels. “We had two-thirds of a carton of Rocky Mountain Road in the case when I left last night. I can’t believe we went through that much today, but stranger things have happened.”
She hurried to the front of the store. Her smile tight, Dana walked directly to the display case. Cal’s stomach sank at her frown. He eyed the spot in the freezer case where Rocky Mountain Road always sat. The carton was about three-quarters empty. “It’s my third most popular flavor. The amount left is what I would expect from a normal sales day.”
Her head jerked up to meet Cal’s, her big brown eyes stricken. “This isn’t the container.”
Cal still didn’t panic, but he winced. “Any ideas what could have happened to it?”
Dana, however, panicked. She dashed back to the freezer, where she flung open the door and rushed inside, searching frantically among the containers. “It has to be here. You must be mistaken about where you put it. Where did you put it, Calum?”
“In that empty slot on the shelf.” Even as he said, he mentally retraced his steps. He’d been distracted by the phone call, but he distinctly remembered shutting the freezer. He was ninety-nine percent certain that he’d put it where he’d indicated.
“That can’t be! It has to be here.” She rifled through the stacks of ice cream cartons, then stopped herself and started over methodically.
Cal sure didn’t see it. “I’m going to double-check the display case.”
It wasn’t there. None of the employees had seen it. Dana joined Cal in the front of the shop, her complexion drained as white as Avanillalanch.
“We must have been robbed. Quick, call Sheriff Turner! What are we going to do? Will my insurance cover the ring? Oh, dear. What will that do to my premiums?”
“Dana. Dana. Dana.” Cal took hold of her by the shoulders. “Calm down. It’ll be okay. We will find it. Somebody knows what happened to it. The ice cream fairies didn’t raid your freezer overnight.”
“Well, somebody did!”
“Speaking of somebody, where’s my brother?”
Dana stilled, then glanced around the shop. “Rusk. Yes, he should be on shift.” Addressing her assistant manager, she asked, “Stephanie? Where’s Rusk?”
“He left on his lunch break a few minutes before you arrived, Dana.”
Cal asked, “Where did he go?”
“Was he carrying anything when he left?” Dana added.
“He left through the back, so I don’t know if he carried anything. He didn’t say where he was going.”
“But he opened for you this morning, didn’t he?” Cal asked Dana. “Was he by himself?”
“Until eleven, yes.”
“Okay then.” Cal pulled his phone from his pocket and placed a call to his brother. It went to voicemail, which was no big surprise because Cal had seen Rusk’s phone on the kitchen counter this morning when he made coffee. His brother was unusual for someone his age in that he wasn’t tethered to his screens. Cal envied him for that. He recorded a voicemail asking Rusk to call him ASAP and followed that with a text.
Looking at Dana and her crew, he asked, “Any guesses where he went for lunch?”
“No,” a teenaged girl said. “But Rusk did mention that he might take a little more than his hour because he had an errand to run.”
“Great,” Dana muttered.
“No hints as to what this errand is?”
The teen shook her head. To Dana, Cal said, “We can stay here and wait for him, or we can go looking. Your call.”
“Let’s look. I can’t stand around twiddling my thumbs. I’ll go crazy.”
Cal gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Don’t fret so, Dana. This is my responsibility. If it’s gone, it’s gone.”
The teenager asked, “What is so important about a tub of ice cream?”
Tears flooded Dana’s eyes as she opened her mouth. Cal responded. “It’s sentimental. I helped make it. It’s my first batch.” To Dana, he said, “Let’s go.”
They tried the Mocha Moose, Murphy’s Pub, and Rusk’s garage apartment in case he’d gone home for his fav PB&J. Seeing his brother’s phone on the kitchen counter at the same spot where it sat earlier this morning strongly suggested to Cal that Rusk had not been by.
And yet, no one they’d asked recalled seeing him today. “His truck isn’t here,” Cal said as they left the apartment. “I didn’t notice it around Scoops anywhere, did you?”
“No.”
“Well….” He checked his watch. “His lunch hour is almost up. We could drive the streets one time and then head back to Scoops. Sound like a plan?”
Dana nodded. As she climbed into his passenger seat, he decided to be methodical about the search and drive the grid, four avenues by eight streets. “You watch to the right. I’ve got the left.”
They went up Aspen Street and down Spruce, keeping their eyes sharp. Despite his attention, Cal darned near missed it. The very last place he expected to see his brother’s vehicle parked was the lot in front of Eternity Springs’ retirement home and assisted-living center. Cal slammed on his brake. “There he is.”
“At the retirement home? Why is he at the retirement home?”
“Haven’t a clue. Let’s find out.” He parked, and they walked inside.
Just past the front desk, the large community room was filled with people. Celeste Blessing stood at the front of the room with a microphone in her hand. As Cal scanned the crowded room for his brother, he tuned in to Celeste’s monologue.
“…such a fun exercise. Thank you all for your enthusiastic participation. Linda, if you’ll make sure everyone has a slip of paper and a pen to vote in the runoff, please?”
A woman wearing a name tag began walking from table to table, dispensing the requested items. Celeste continued, “So, without further ado, allow me to announce our top three vote-getters in our renaming contest. Votes will be counted during this afternoon’s festivities, and the winner will be announced at the conclusion. Ladies and gentlemen, the three highest-scoring votes for the new name for our wonderful new facility are Eternity’s Edge Retirement Village, Angels Not Ready To Rest Senior Living Center, and Young At Heart Senior Home.”
A spate of applause interrupted her. When it died down, she continued. “Now, onto what brought us all here together this afternoon. Happy 70th Anniversary to John and Leslie Mills! I believe John—or as he’s known around here, CrackerJack—has a few words he wants to say?”
A frail elderly man rose from a seat at a table at the front and used a cane for support as he turned to face the gathering. Behind John Mills, Rusk stood in a doorway to what appeared to be the kitchen. Cal leaned close to Dana and murmured, “There’s Rusk.”
Cal could see no way to get to his brother without walking through the middle of the gathering. Dana must have identified the same problem because she said, “Let’s wait until after this gentleman speaks.”
“Thank you, Celeste,” John Mills said, his voice surprisingly strong coming from that frail body. “Thank you all for joining us this afternoon. I won’t keep you long from our cake and ice cream, but I want to say a few words publicly to my blushing bride.”
“Ice cream!” Dana murmured, elbowing Cal in the ribs.
He nodded. It now seemed evident that Rusk had taken the carton of Rocky Mountain Road to bring here to the senior facility. Cal would bet a hundred dollars that he’d also brought along vanilla. He and Dana hadn’t checked the status of other flavors in the freezer.
At the front, John said, “Sweetheart. Love of my life. Seventy years ago, you stood beside me in that little chapel in Denver and vowed to be mine. We’ve shared most of the whole kit-n-kaboodle—the better and worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health. I pray that when we get to the death do us part, part, the good Lord takes me first. I’m selfish that way. Anyway, throughout it all, you never faltered. You honored your vows to me even when I didn’t deserve it. I want you to know that I’d been saving up to get you something special for this anniversary since it’s extra special to you.”
He took his gaze away from his wife long enough to show the gathering a grin that still had a bit of wicked in it to explain. “She made a bet with her sister the day before our wedding that we’d see seventy years or more together as man and wife. My Leslie hates to lose a bet.”
He returned his attention to his wife. “Sadly, the fire that took our house last winter got my money box, too, so those earrings I’ve been wanting for you literally went up in smoke.”
“That’s okay, honey,” Leslie Mills said. “It’s the thought that counts.”
“I knew you’d say that, so I didn’t worry too much about it. I couldn’t get you something sparkly, but I did manage something else I know you love. And when I thought about it, I decided it suits the occasion better than a bauble. So, when I finish yapping, this youngster over here is gonna scoop you up a double-dip cone of your favorite, Rocky Mountain Road.”
“Oh, John,” Leslie said. “How sweet!”
“We’ve had a bit of a Rocky Mountain road this past year, my love, but that’s behind us. I have it on good authority—none other than Ms. Celeste’s—that life is gonna be smooth as homemade ice cream for us for the next little while. So, that’s what I’ve wanted to say. I love you, Les. A man couldn’t ask for a better wife and partner in life. I’ve been saying this ever since my buddies in the oilfield hung the nickname on me. If I am the Crackerjack, then you are without a doubt the prize. Happy anniversary.”
He walked over to his wife, slowly leaned down, and kissed her. The room erupted in applause. John Mills called out. “Cake and ice cream for everybody. My treat in honor of my prize of seventy years!”
Dana clasped her hand to her chest. “That’s the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.”
Yes, it was. Crackerjack Mills reminded him of his own maternal grandfather. William Reece had been loyal, responsible, and a principled man of his word. He’d adored his children and grandchildren, but his love for his wife, Cal’s Nana, had been the thing of legends. Cal had loved his grandparents with every fiber of his being. They used to joke about the gifts Cal would buy for them when he signed a professional baseball contract. Sadly, William Reece had passed right before Cal got called up to the majors. One of Cal’s biggest regrets was that he’d never been able to buy his Papa that Lamborghini.
That regret was what caused Cal to look at Dana and say, “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”