Ill be home for christma.., p.5
I'll Be Home For Christmas, page 5
“Don’t try anything,” he gently warned as he walked out the front door.
As the door clicked shut, Marian chewed on her lip. Even if the grocer didn’t notice her secret ingredients, maybe she’d be able to get her kidnapper to drink enough rum that it would be easy to persuade him to let her go. If not, she could at least get him talking enough to find out why she was here.
Her gut told her this guy wasn’t bad but had just fallen on hard times. If she could get him to open up to her, she might have hope of finding out who was behind this kidnapping and figure out a way to signal for help.
Chapter Sixteen
“So, what did you think of that reporter?” Eli asked Joe once they were back at the station.
Joe shrugged. “She seemed like most reporters, like she cared more about getting the story than about truly helping us find Marian.”
“You could have said something to her,” Eli suggested.
Huffing his displeasure, Joe said, “The last thing this town needs is law enforcement getting on camera when we have absolutely no leads on what happened to Marian. Small-town cops already have a reputation as being Barney Fife replicas. We don’t need to help reinforce that stereotype.”
Joe studied Eli. To Joe, he almost looked like a kid playing dress-up in his dad’s uniform. In the sheriff station, complete with wood paneling and deer heads mounted on the wall, Eli looked out of place. He was a good guy, but young. At twenty-four years old, he still had a lot to learn about reading people. Even with a job in law enforcement, he remained unjaded when it came to his view of humanity.
Maybe he should have worked security at the mall, Joe mused. Having a boss like Winston Marshall was enough to change his view of people. Not to mention working with the public every day. Most of the time they were okay, but once the Christmas season rolled around, it seemed as though everyone turned into materialistic grumps. More than once he’d had to break up fights when there was only one of something left. Even though no one had paid for it and it still belonged to the store, these people would stake claim to it as if it was their own personal possession.
He shook his head, reliving the days he felt more like a bouncer at a bar than mall security. This job was much better. The hours were less stable and the crimes more serious than somebody getting smacked with an oversized handbag in a scuffle for the last stuffed animal for a grandkid, but at least he felt like he was making a difference. Now he was only called to help when people were past the point of helping themselves.
“Whatcha thinking of over there?” Eli asked as he polished his firearm.
Joe watched Eli for a few minutes before answering. It seemed like Eli was always cleaning his firearm. He said it helped him think.
“I was just thinking about when I worked security at the mall, and the way people acted around the holidays,” Joe finally answered.
Laying the pistol on his desk, Eli studied Joe with intense brown eyes, then said, “Do you think that difference in attitude during the holidays has something to do with Marian’s disappearance?”
Scratching his chin, Joe admitted he hadn’t considered it. If his job in security at the mall taught him anything, it was that people were capable of acting out of character if it meant getting something they wanted. “If so, that would definitely suggest that someone is behind Marian’s disappearance and she didn’t leave on her own accord. I guess it’s always a possibility.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “But Marian is a retired schoolteacher who now works as a mall elf. The only thing she’s ever done is teach kids or make them smile at Christmastime. Certainly no one would have hurt her, right?” he thought aloud.
“That’s what we need to find out.”
“You’re right.” Joe stood and stuffed his arms into his winter jacket. “What are we doing sitting around here? Let’s get out there and chase down some leads.”
As the two men walked out into the snow to Joe’s cruiser, Joe racked his brain about who could be responsible for taking Marian, if that was actually what had happened. As they slipped into the car, Joe played the events of the last two days in his mind, remembering an altercation from the night before.
“Eli, I think we need to pay Henry Feinstein a visit,” Joe said grimly.
Henry Feinstein had been openly hostile toward Marian when they were Christmas caroling, and it was no secret that he had a volatile temper. His stint in jail for assault proved that. If Marian had gone back to his house in an effort to talk to him, as the location of her abandoned car suggested, could Henry have lost his temper and lashed out at her?
A sinking feeling settled in Joe’s stomach. With a predisposition toward violence, if Henry had been drinking heavily before Marian went to see him, who knows what he could have done to her.
Chapter Seventeen
Nadine slid a cup of chamomile tea in front of Holly and settled into the chair next to her, then reached over to give Holly’s hand a squeeze. “We’ll find her,” Nadine said, hoping her words were true. “Joe and Eli won’t rest until they have her back home, safe and sound.”
Fresh tears sprang to Holly’s eyes and she quickly blinked them away. “You know, before I met Marian, I felt completely alone. I didn’t belong anywhere or with anybody. When my parents split, they couldn’t even be civil with each other. It got to the point where the only time they’d speak to me was to complain about the other one. As soon as I was old enough, I left home and never looked back. Marian became the only family I had. She never judged me for my past or expected me to be anything different than what I was. All I ever got from her was love. Now she’s gone.” A sob escaped Holly’s throat as a few fat tears plopped onto her jeans, leaving dark spots where they landed.
Placing a comforting arm around Holly’s shoulder, Nadine pulled her close. “I know,” she soothed. “We have no evidence that anything bad has happened to Marian. If her car slid off the road, she could have bumped her head and gotten confused, then started wandering around. Joe told me they had her car towed to the station, and they didn’t find any trace of blood.”
Holly shuddered, then sniffed. “I guess that’s a good thing.”
Nadine nodded in agreement. “It’s a very good thing.” She paused and added, “Marian isn’t your only family anymore. You’ve got a whole lot of us that think of you as family. You’re the little sister I never had, and Joe is like your ornery brother-in-law. I know Ralph and Carla care about you like parents would. Please stop telling yourself you’re alone in this world.”
“Thank you for reminding me and thank you for leaving the café to be with me,” Holly said, wiping her eyes with the tissue she kept in the pocket of her jeans.
“No problem. This little guy keeps me pretty worn out, so I could use the day off,” Nadine replied, rubbing her hand in a circle on her basketball-shaped belly. “I’m sure Winston will be furious and never let me hear the end of it, though.”
Holly raised the mug to take a sip of tea, but her hand stopped midair when the doorbell rang.
“I wonder who that could be,” Nadine murmured, then placed her own mug back on the table. She walked to the front door to answer it and came back to the kitchen with Sylvia Bell at her side.
“I just wanted to stop by and check on you,” Sylvia said, the dark circles under her eyes a stark contrast to her otherwise flawless complexion.
“Thank you. I’m doing okay, considering. It would be much worse if I didn’t have the two of you to remind me I’m not alone,” Holly said, giving Sylvia a watery smile.
As Sylvia looked around at the festively decorated house, Nadine could tell what she was thinking. She’d had the same thought she could now see on Sylvia’s face. No matter how much the house was decorated for Christmas, Marian’s absence was felt, and the festive decor fell flat. It was almost as though Marian took the spirit of Christmas with her when she disappeared.
“Well, I for one don’t plan to sit around here and wait for Joe and Eli to find her,” Sylvia announced. “They’re not the only ones that can get things done around here.”
Holly’s head snapped up from staring into her tea. Nadine arched an eyebrow at her.
“What did you have in mind?” Nadine asked.
“We were all with Marian last night before she disappeared. And Holly, you know Marian better than anybody. If we work together, I’m sure we can find out what happened to her,” Sylvia urged.
The confidence in her voice bolstered Nadine’s. “You’re right. Holly, you know Marian’s routine. You’ll have information nobody else does. Get your boots and coat, we’re heading out.”
“But won’t Joe and Eli be mad?” Holly fretted.
Nadine shrugged. “If they are, they are. We’ll deal with that when we have to. Right now, finding Marian is priority one.”
Sylvia laughed. “Nadine, you’re starting to sound like Joe.”
Covering her mouth with one hand, Nadine blushed. “I am, aren’t I?” she said, then straightened her back. “Well, in the spirit of my husband, let’s go find Marian.”
As their boots crunched on the snow blanketing the driveway, Nadine couldn’t help but wonder if this was a good idea. If Marian didn’t just wander off, if she were taken, what would happen to the three of them if they did find the person responsible?
Chapter Eighteen
Joe banged his fist against the front door of Henry Feinstein’s house. “Open up, Feinstein! Sheriff Adler and Deputy Nolan here to talk to you.”
“Think he’ll answer the door?” Eli asked.
“He’d better.”
A crash came from inside the house, followed by several others. “What in the world?” Joe muttered.
A minute later, a bleary-eyed Henry Feinstein opened the door, looking—and smelling—as though he hadn’t showered in a week. “Whaddya want?” he slurred.
“You doing okay today, Henry?” Eli asked, amused. The only times he’d ever met Henry Feinstein—other than Christmas caroling last night—was responding to calls about drunken disorderlies.
“Just fine,” Henry growled. “What are you doing on my property?”
Eli, whose approach was a bit softer than Joe’s, began to speak, but was immediately cut off.
“Did you see Marian Bright last night?” Joe asked, a sharp edge in his voice.
Henry Feinstein wobbled and grasped the doorframe. “Yeah, I saw her. She was singing out here with a bunch of other trespassers.”
“After that. Did you see her again later after everybody else was gone?” Eli pressed, taking his cue from Joe.
Henry turned his attention to Eli and tilted his head. “Aren’t you a little young for this job?”
Eli stiffened. “I’m plenty old enough for this job. Now answer the question.”
A sideways glance at Joe revealed that he was trying not to smile. Eli knew why. Ever since Joe was elected sheriff, he’d been telling Eli that he was too soft, that he needed to be a little tougher with people. Joe’s hidden smile was his way of approving of the way Eli was handling the situation.
“Nah. I never saw her again after that,” Henry finally said. “What’s it matter, anyway?”
Eli took a step closer. “Why don’t you take a shower and put on something decent. You smell like you spent the night inside a whiskey bottle.”
“You can’t tell me what to do, boy,” Henry growled, taking a shaky step forward.
Joe placed a restraining hand on Henry’s chest before he was able to close the distance between them any more. “Do as Deputy Nolan said. We’ve got some questions for you, and you stink too bad to talk to. Maybe run a toothbrush over those grimy teeth while you’re at it.”
Snorting his disapproval, Henry Feinstein turned and stumbled toward the stairs to the right of the front door.
“That guy’s gonna break his neck on those steps,” Eli muttered.
Joe shrugged. “The world’s lost better people, that’s for sure.” Stepping over the threshold, he motioned for Eli to follow him. “We’ll wait inside. There’s no reason for us to get frostbite out here while he takes his sweet time making himself presentable. Though that might take a miracle,” Joe added.
As they entered the cluttered house, Eli took note that there were almost no personal touches to the place. There wasn’t a single Christmas decoration to be seen, and the floor was littered with empty liquor bottles. He kicked one out of his way as he walked to a small table under the window that held a single framed picture. Though the room was dimly lit, he could see that it was a photo of two people on their wedding day. The woman smiled radiantly as she looked at her groom. The man’s arm circled her waist, pulling her close as he nuzzled his face into her hair. In the picture, it looked as though the two were very much in love. Eli took a step toward the table and bent lower to get a closer look. If he didn’t know any better, he’d swear the man was Henry Feinstein.
“Take a look at this,” Joe said, pulling Eli from his thoughts.
Eli turned to see Joe stooped over a drawer, rifling through some papers. “Do you think you ought to be doing that? We don’t have a warrant,” Eli warned.
Joe stood, his hand clutching several papers. “Do you really think Feinstein will notice? The man doesn’t stay sober long enough to know what’s here and what’s not.”
Intrigued, Eli closed the gap between him and Joe. “What did you find?”
“I can’t be sure, exactly, but it looks like a property map.”
“So?”
“So, if he did something to Marian, we might find her there,” Joe suggested.
The sound of someone coming down the stairs behind them made both men turn around to face a showered and shaved Henry Feinstein. With clearer speech, Henry said, “What were you guys asking me?”
Joe held up the papers he was holding. “I think we should talk at the station.”
Despite his protests, Henry followed them to the vehicle and climbed in the back.
Henry might have the information they need to find Marian, Eli thought. If so, he’d make Holly the happiest girl in the world by returning Marian home by sundown.
Chapter Nineteen
Vito Franks pushed the shopping cart around the small grocery store as he searched for the items on Marian’s list. He kept his hat pulled low on his forehead and his head slightly ducked in hopes that nobody would notice him.
To Vito’s surprise, everyone that did manage to make eye contact greeted him with a warm smile and wished him a Merry Christmas.
If they only knew the secret I’m carrying, he thought, guilt threatening to overtake him.
There was no doubt word had spread around town about Marian Bright’s disappearance, and everyone was probably worried sick about her. They wouldn’t be nearly so friendly if they knew he was the reason she was missing.
Squelching the urge to drive back to the farmhouse and let Marian go, he reminded himself that if the boss wanted Marian to be kidnapped, there were a lot worse people out there that would have been more than willing to take care of it. Unfortunately, most of those people would have also been more than willing to do whatever it took to keep her quiet… and to avoid getting caught.
Yep. There was no doubt about it: Marian was safer with him.
Once he’d gotten everything he needed for the potpie, cider, and hot buttered rum, among other things, Vito made his way to the checkout.
A friendly man wearing a name tag that said “Fred” greeted him and began scanning the groceries. After the obligatory greetings, Vito tried to discourage any further conversation.
No luck.
“It looks like you’ve got the makings of a fine dinner,” Fred observed and continued scanning. “Hmmm. On a night as cold as tonight is supposed to be, you’ll be glad about the cider. Oh, and I see you’ve got plans for hot buttered rum.”
Vito fought the urge to yell at the man to shut up, and instead dug several twenty-dollar bills out of his wallet. The last thing he needed was to get everyone’s attention… especially for an angry outburst.
Fred pressed a few buttons on the cash register and pulled out the receipt. He handed it to Vito and said, “Merry Christmas. Enjoy your dinner.” Then, with a furrowed brow, he added, “You know, there’s only one other person I know that uses dried cranberries and cinnamon sticks in her hot buttered rum. I thought her recipe was a secret, one-of-a-kind, but I guess not. Looks like she might be onto something, though.”
With a tight smile, Vito thanked Fred and walked out into the cold. Now he could only hope that his new buddy Fred didn’t put two and two together and go running his mouth to the sheriff about a stranger that came into the store, buying the same ingredients that Marian Bright used in her top-secret, one-of-a-kind, hot buttered rum.
Chapter Twenty
The back end of the car fishtailed on the snowy road as Sylvia, Nadine, and Holly drove down a picturesque country lane in search of Marian. Joe had told Nadine last night that Marian’s car had been abandoned outside Henry Feinstein’s house, but she could be anywhere by now.
Holly’s phone pinged, indicating she’d just gotten a text message.
“Listen!” Holly shouted from the backseat.
The car swerved and Sylvia threw her arm across the passenger seat where Nadine was sitting. “Hold on ladies,” Sylvia said. “These roads are terrible. I don’t think the plows come out this far.”
“Sorry for startling you,” Holly apologized, her stomach up near her throat after what felt like two close calls in a row. “I just got a text from Eli. He said he and Joe took Henry Feinstein into the station for questioning. They suspect he might have taken Marian.”
Nadine’s head whipped around. “I don’t know that Eli should have told you that. Joe always says they can’t talk about ongoing investigations.”
Holly shrugged. “He knows how worried I am about Marian. I think he’s just trying to keep me informed so I know they’re working on it.”
“We’re all worried about Marian,” Sylvia interjected, keeping her eyes firmly focused on the road ahead. “Don’t let Eli do anything to jeopardize the investigation just so you can feel like you know what’s going on. The most important thing is for us to get her back.”
