I took one of the bills from Jayne and rubbed the twenty between my fingers. My mouth fell open. “It can’t be. Can it?”

“There’s only one way to find out. I need my dad to tell me who the source is for this paper.” She stuffed the money back in her pocket and turned around. “We have to go back right now.”

“Agreed.” We started walking. My mind was going a hundred miles an hour. “If this is the same paper …”

Jayne nodded. “Then it’s a whole big, complicated nightmare. Obviously, someone figured out the Christmas Magic paper is the same stuff U.S. currency is printed on, so they’re trying to get their hands on as much of it as possible so they can print their own counterfeit bills.”

I shook my head. “Could that actually be true? That seems crazy for a place like Nocturne Falls.”

She arched her brows and looked at me like I was the crazy one.

“Okay,” I said. “Granted, some unbelievable things have happened here, but counterfeiting? That’s a major crime.”

She nodded. “I know. But what other explanation works?”

I sighed as I tried to think. “I don’t have one.”

Jayne’s snowmen were still standing guard at the entrance to the RV park. Jerry was shoveling the little walkway outside of the office. He was wearing a parka. A lidded stainless-steel coffee mug rested on the windowsill.

I gave him a nod. “Morning, Jerry.”

“Morning, Sinclair. Mrs. Crowe. The plow is supposed to be here any minute to take care of this road. I hope they don’t mess up your snowmen. Those are great!”

“Thanks.” I stuck my hand out, thumbs up. “Excellent news about the plow.” It was, too. We definitely needed to get back into town today.

“Great,” Jayne said as we walked by. Her pocket buzzed. She dug her phone out and checked the screen. A message had come in, but I couldn’t see what it said or who it was from with the glare on the screen. A moment later, she sighed. “I don’t know if this is good news or bad news.”

“What is it?” I went up the steps to the RV’s door and unlocked it.

She looked up from her phone screen. “Juniper texted to say she came downstairs to find a large shipment of Christmas Magic paper in the Santa’s bag.”

“How large is large?”

“She said it might be as many as two hundred rolls.” Jayne tucked her phone away, then rubbed her chin. “That’s a lot of potential fake money.”

“Maybe,” I said. “We still don’t know for sure that’s what’s going on.” Although it seemed like more than a coincidence that the two papers felt so similar. I went inside and held the door for her. “What are the dimensions of a roll of Christmas Magic?”

She came in after me. “Thirty-two inches by twelve feet.”

I shut the door, then pulled out my phone and did a few calculations. A piece of paper money was roughly two and a half inches by six inches long. I stared at the number on my calculator app in disbelief. I looked at Jayne again. “These are rough numbers, but if they’re printing fifties, a roll of magic paper could be worth almost fourteen thousand dollars. If they’re printing hundreds, it goes up to twenty-seven thousand a roll. A hundred rolls of Christmas Magic is just shy of three million dollars.”

Which meant there might be as much as six million sitting in the Santa’s Workshop stockroom right now.

Jayne swallowed. “No wonder they want as many rolls as they can get their hands on. But modern currency has security strips in it and all kinds of fancy printing.”

I shrugged. “I don’t know about the security strips, but the fancy printing can be reproduced. For that matter, the look of security strips could be reproduced too. And in the throes of retail madness this time of year, how close are people actually looking at the cash they’re being handed?”

She took a breath. “We might be getting ahead of ourselves.” She turned, scanning the RV. “Where’s that scrap of wrapping?”

“I threw it out. Hang on.” I retrieved the scrap from the trash, then laid it on the table next to the twenty Jayne had given me. I turned on the dining nook lights.

Jayne leaned in for a better look. “Hard to be completely sure with one printed all over and one completely inked on the front. But they do seem pretty similar.”

I turned my head toward her. “Even if they’re not the exact same paper, they’re so close I’m not sure it would matter. I mean, how many people are going to look that close? Like I was saying earlier, this is the perfect time of year to pass off fake bills. Especially ones without all the real security measures. Stores are busy. Everyone’s spending. Clerks are all over the place trying to take care of customers …”

Jayne straightened. “I’m going to call my dad and see what he can tell me. Do you think you should call the sheriff’s office? Maybe give them a heads-up?”

“Let’s see what your dad says first. I don’t want to send them on a wild goose chase if this is all in our imaginations.” Which I really, really wanted it to be.

“Okay. But let’s talk to him together. I’ll grab the snow globe.” She took off her coat, tossed it on one of the bench seats, and went back into the bedroom.

I hung her coat up, then poured myself a cup of coffee.

She came back out with the globe and set it on the table. While she got connected with her dad, I got her a Dr Pepper out of the fridge. I knew she’d want one. Probably a doughnut too. I set the soda on the table, then opened the Zombie Donuts box and held it out for her.

“Thanks.” She grabbed one that looked like a vanilla cream. She was staring into the globe watching the snow swirl. “He’s not answering.”

“I’m sure he’s just busy.”

“Yeah, busy flooding the town with the world’s most perfect counterfeiting paper.” A look of terror struck her face. “Sin. What will happen when the tinkers figure out the formula for the paper and send Christmas Magic to every Santa’s Workshop?”

I leaned against the counter. That would be a problem of epic proportions. “Pandemonium is what would happen. There are too many shady people out there for someone else not to realize what kind of paper it is. We need your dad to shut down production immediately.”

Jayne shook her head. “He’s not going to like that.”

“I wouldn’t think so.”

Her dad’s voice rang out. “Hello, sweetheart. How are you?”

“I’ve been better,” Jayne said. “Sin’s here, too. We need to talk to you about the Christmas Magic paper.”

“Happy to. We’ve been hard at work on that, as you know.”

I poured my cup of coffee and sat next to her.

Jack Frost gave me a smile. “Sinclair, good to see you, son.”

I lifted my hand in greeting, but my smile didn’t match his. “Hello.”

“Dad.” Jayne cleared her throat. “This is serious business. Who’s the supplier for the paper for the Christmas Magic wrap?”

Her father’s expression shifted to reflect the tone of her voice. “A little place in Connecticut. Crane & Company. Although I don’t think that matters anymore. Why? What’s going on?”

I did a quick Google search and showed Jayne the results. They weren’t good.

Jayne sighed. “Crane & Company also supplies the U.S. Treasury with the paper that’s used to print currency. Dad, we might have a major problem here.”

“Why?”

She took a long drink of Dr Pepper and a big bite of her doughnut. Then she answered. “There have been break-ins in town. All of the gifts under the trees were unwrapped and the wrapping paper stolen, including all rolls of paper. Four of the six houses broken into had Christmas Magic paper. We think someone’s gathering as much of that paper as they can so they can make counterfeit currency. If they haven’t started printing it already.”

Her dad didn’t say anything for a moment. “You’re right. That might be a major problem.”

Jayne’s eyes narrowed, and she leaned in. “Why did you say it didn’t matter anymore who the manufacturer of the paper was?”

He exhaled an icy puff of air so cold it had tiny snowflakes in it. “Because we cracked the paper formula right after I last talked to you and, as of this morning, shipped out a gross of Christmas Magic paper to each one of our stores.”

“Oh no,” Jayne said.

“Oh yes,” her father said.

“A gross?” My brows went up as I did the math in my head. “As in one hundred and forty-four rolls?”

He nodded, looking pained. “Yes. To at least a hundred and fifty stores. Production is in overdrive. There’s another shipment planned for later this afternoon.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose, imagining the amount of counterfeit bills that could be produced with that much source paper. “This may have just gone from a major problem to a national emergency.”