2
A large cup of coffee sat atop an open book above the door to the bookstore café. The words “Death by Coffee” were spelled out in white froth within the coffee mug. Through the plate glass windows, I could see movement within the store, including a head of purple hair I hadn’t seen in months.
Lena? I couldn’t be sure, but I thought it might be.
“What is it?” Dad asked as I just about fell from the front seat in my haste to climb out of the car. “What’s happening?”
I was too excited—and too choked up—to answer him.
A blast of warmth hit me as I all but ran through the front door of Death by Coffee. Many of the seats were occupied with customers sipping hot drinks. Upstairs, dice rattled across a coffee table where Yolanda Barton sat with a couple of her friends, playing a board game.
And standing by the counter, surrounded by employees, was indeed Lena Allison.
Lena had worked for us from the time we’d opened, right up until she’d left Pine Hills for college. Her hair was a shoulder-length vibrant purple that tapered to black at the tips. It matched her eyeshadow, and the bruise on her left arm that was likely caused by a skateboarding spill. She grinned from ear to ear when she saw me enter.
“Hi, Ms. Hancock.” When I narrowed my eyes at her, she laughed. “Okay. Krissy.”
“Lena! When did you get back into town?” I hurried over to her and hugged her. Already, this was turning into the best Christmas ever. “I didn’t know you were coming back.”
“Yeah, it was sort of last minute.” She reddened and stepped back. “Surprised everyone at home when I came crashing through the doorway.”
I was blinking rapidly in a desperate attempt not to cry. “I see you’ve met your replacement.”
Eugene Dohmer’s normally squinty eyes widened and he raised both his hands. “I’m not replacing anyone.”
Beside him, Beth Milner laughed, and then her grin turned mischievous. “Right. He’s been talking nonstop about how he’s far superior to the slacker who’d come before him, and that they might as well rename the place to Eugene’s Coffee because he’s so much better.”
Eugene’s mouth dropped open as he looked from me to Beth. A faint red was rising up his collar. “I never . . . you’re just . . . No!”
I let him off the hook. “It’s really good to see you, Lena. Is Zay here?” Zay was Lena’s boyfriend. Or friend who is a boy. I don’t know. She’d never actually admitted to dating him, but it was obvious they’d had a thing for one another when they lived in Pine Hills. They’d even left for college at the same time, to the same place, so it would seem strange if they weren’t dating.
Some of the luster faded from Lena’s face. “Zay and I have moved on from one another,” she said, almost carefully, as if choosing her words. “He’s cool and all, but we found our interests didn’t align as much as we’d thought.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
She shrugged. “Nah, it’s cool. It was getting harder and harder to pay for food for the both of us, so now that it’s just me, I’m managing.”
The “barely” was implied.
Now that she mentioned cash flow problems, I noted that her arms were a bit thinner than before, the bones in her face a smidge more prominent. She wasn’t starving by any means, but I could tell she wasn’t living in the lap of luxury either.
“Vicki and Mason are in California visiting her parents for the holidays,” I said, wondering how that was going, even as I said it. Vicki didn’t exactly get along with her mom and dad, and since Mason’s own contentious father, Raymond Lawyer, and his cantankerous girlfriend, Regina Harper, had gone along with them . . . Yikes. “I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if you wanted to step in and snatch a few hours. You know, for old times’ sake?”
Lena bit her lower lip, which had started to quiver. “I couldn’t . . . Hey, Mr. Hancock!” She sounded almost relieved as Dad and Laura approached. “It’s been a long time.”
“Lena. It’s good to see you. Please, call me James.”
“Hi, Krissy.” Laura’s smile was radiant and was reflected in the gleam in Dad’s eye as he looked at her. I could easily have been upset when he’d started dating her, accused her of trying to replace my mom, who’d died many, many years ago.
But he was happy, so I was happy. And, honestly, Laura was good for Dad. He looked younger and fitter than I ever remember seeing him, despite the gray.
“Laura.” I hugged her, carefully, so as not to spill her drink. “It’s good to see you.” I noted the candy cane sticking out of the cup. “How do you like the peppermint cappuccino?”
She stirred the coffee with the candy cane before taking a long drink. “It’s fantastic.”
“That reminds me,” Beth said. “We’re running low on the candy. I don’t think we’ll have enough for more than a day or two.”
“I’ll pick some up,” I said, adding it to my mental list of things to do. “But it might not be until to-morrow.”
“You know? I should get going,” Lena said, easing away. “I really don’t want to intrude.”
“You’re not intruding,” I said. “You’re family.”
“Yeah, well, my family family will be wondering where I’ve run off to, so I should pop in at home for a bit. I kind of left this morning without telling anyone where I was going.” She gave me a sheepish grin as she shrugged on her coat. I noted the wince as she did, telling me the bruise still hurt, and I wondered if she might have more hidden beneath her clothing.
“Think about my offer,” I said. “With Vicki and Mason gone, we really are a little short-staffed.” Other than Eugene and Beth, all that was left was me, Jeff Braun, and Pooky Cooper, and I was going to be busy with Dad most days.
“I’ll think about it.” And after a brief hesitation, she added, “Thank you. It would help a lot.”
I beamed. “I told you before you left that you’d always have a place here.”
More hugs went around and Lena took off. She didn’t hop onto a skateboard when she reached the sidewalk, and instead climbed into a minivan that was likely her mom’s. I watched her go, a frown forming.
“Something wrong?” Dad asked.
“No.” Or, I didn’t think so. But that bruise bothered me, especially since Zay wasn’t here with her. “Just thinking.” I turned to him with a clap of my hands. “So! What’s the plan?”
“The plan?” He glanced at Laura, who’d finished off her drink and was crunching on the candy cane. “I was thinking Laura and I could check in to our room and get a little sleep. It was a long, early flight and I’m beat.”
My heart sank. “Oh.”
“Besides, weren’t you helping Rita with the set up for the party tonight?” Dad stifled a yawn. “A party that I won’t be awake for if I don’t catch a little shut-eye beforehand.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Though I wasn’t happy about it. Dad was in town and all I wanted to do was spend time with him. It felt strange to have him here and not be with him.
Or have him not be staying with me.
“You know you don’t have to stay at Ted and Bettfast,” I said. “I have more than enough room at my place for you.” And it had to be strange since someone he knew had been murdered at the bed-and-breakfast. Not that I planned on bringing that up to him, just in case he’d somehow forgotten.
“No, we wouldn’t want to intrude,” Dad said. “And if Paul decides to stop by some evening, we definitely wouldn’t want to get in the way of whatever you two might have planned.”
I sputtered, not quite sure how to respond to that.
“Speaking of Paul,” Laura said, fighting a grin. “Look who’s here.”
The door opened and, sure enough, Officer Paul Dalton walked in. He removed his hat, smoothed down his hair, and smiled. “Mr. Hancock. Ms. Dresden.” He bowed to each before turning to me. “Krissy? Are you okay? Do you need to sit down?”
“I’m fine.” I shot Dad a warning look not to add to his last comment. “I’m just excited that Dad and Laura are here.”
Dad and Paul did the man thing and shook hands, as if they were doing business instead of saying hi to what might as well be family. “Please, call me James,” Dad said.
“James,” Paul amended before he checked his watch and frowned. “I can’t stay. I stopped by the church and Rita told me you were here.” He sighed. “I know I said I’d come, but I can’t make the party tonight. Two of our officers are out sick and, well . . .”
“I get it.” Paul’s mom, Patricia Dalton, was police chief, which often meant that when someone needed to fill in, Paul got the job whether he wanted it or not. “And it’s all right. Dad and Laura are coming, so I’ll have someone to talk to.”
Laura raised her eyebrows in question. “There’s a party?”
“I’ll tell you about it later,” Dad said, nudging her with his shoulder.
“It’s probably better that you’ll be there instead of me,” Paul said. “I’m not a writer.”
Neither was I. Well, I mean, I’d attempted to write a few times years ago, but failed so miserably I’d mostly given up trying. Whatever writer gene Dad had, it hadn’t passed down to me.
A round of goodbyes followed, along with another round of hugs and cheek kisses. And then, quite suddenly, I found myself alone. Dad and Laura were headed to Ted and Bettfast to get some sleep. Paul was off to work. Even Eugene and Beth had drifted off to clean up and restock.
I left Death by Coffee, bundled tight against the cold. A look to the sky showed me a blue sky unmarred by clouds, with no hint of a coming snow. We were a week from Christmas and not even a light dusting had fallen. I was beginning to wonder if it ever would.
I turned the heater on full blast as I started my car. A moment later, and I was coasting down the street, trying to decide where to go for lights and a tree. Pine Hills was a small town that prided itself on the businesses being locally owned, not chain. That meant there was no Walmart. No Target. No one-stop shops at all.
I preferred helping out local shop owners, especially since I was one myself, but there are times when having a place where you could go to grab everything you needed without having to make a half dozen stops was convenient.
Pine Hills was decked out for the holidays. Wreaths hung from lampposts. Removable stickers of snowflakes and reindeer were plastered to windows. If there’d been snow, it would have been postcard-esque.
A sign caught my eye, causing me to slow to a crawl: ANDREW’S GIFTS. I frowned. Almost all the businesses in Pine Hills were named with puns and rhymes in mind. Andrew’s Gifts didn’t follow that pattern, nor did it have the same joyous decorations on the windows or door like everyone else had. It was so bland, my eyes wanted to pass right over it, which was probably why I’d never noticed it before now.
It was the toy store the woman, Doris, had mentioned, the one right across the street from the church where Rita was waiting for me. Curious, I pulled up to the curb, but I couldn’t see much through the window. A few boxed toys. Something that might have been a box of Legos or maybe a board game. Or a brick. It was hard to tell. Leaning in the window was a cardboard CHRISTMAS SALE sign that looked anything but festive.
Maybe he’ll have a tree? I shut off the engine. There was only one way to find out.
No bells or sounds came from the door when I entered Andrew’s Gifts, which felt odd considering every other shop in town seemed to have some sort of warning system that a customer was entering. I was immediately assaulted by large SALE! signs on nearly every shelf, though the old prices or how much saved wasn’t on display.
I’m not much of a shopper, so I didn’t bother browsing. I scanned the shelves in the hopes of spotting Christmas decorations, but as far as I could tell, Andrew’s Gifts was stocked full of name-brand toys, game consoles, and figurines. The only hint of the season was the single, sad wreath hanging from the front counter.
“Hey! You! Get out of here.”
I jerked to a stop, thinking the man was talking to me, but when I turned, I discovered I wasn’t the intended target.
The speaker was wearing a sweater vest over a blue button up shirt and khaki pants. Something about the ensemble gave me the impression that he worked in Andrew’s Gifts, if he wasn’t the man, Andrew, himself. He was making straight for the entrance, where a guy with long hair, all black clothes, including combat boots, a skull earring, and wallet chain, was holding a box with the word “POP!” on it in large yellow letters.
“I’m just looking around,” the long-haired guy said.
“No, you’re not.” This from Sweater Vest. “You’re going to steal it.”
I expected a retort from the guy in black, but he just smirked. “You think so?”
“I know so.” Sweater Vest snatched the POP! figure from the other man’s hand. “I’ve had enough of your type. If I see you in here again, I’m going to call the police.”
“My type?” Black Shirt scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Thieves. Thugs.”
“You don’t know me, man. I haven’t stolen anything.” He reached for another POP! figure.
Sweater Vest snatched it out of his hand, like he had the other. “Get out!” He jabbed a trembling finger toward the door before shoving it into Black Shirt’s chest. “I won’t hesitate to—” He glanced over his shoulder to where I was standing and cut himself off.
Black Shirt shoved Sweater Vest’s hand away. “You’ll what?” he said. “Follow me around the store? You can keep your overpriced crap.” And with that, he spun and stormed back out the door, smacking the glass so hard with his palms, I was afraid it might shatter.
Sweater Vest watched him go, shoulders heaving. Once he was certain Black Shirt wasn’t coming back, he replaced the figures on their shelf, and then headed back behind the counter without so much as a glance—or an apology—to me.
I decided that I’d seen enough—the store didn’t have what I was looking for anyway—so I left. When I got outside, Black Shirt was long gone. I climbed back into my car, paid Andrew’s Gifts one last look, and then resumed my search for a tree and lights for tonight’s party.