How Heathcliff Stole Christmas by Holmes Steffanie

Author:Holmes, Steffanie [Holmes, Steffanie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Mystery, Paranormal, Fantasy
ISBN: 9780995134249
Amazon: B081Q9TG5M
Goodreads: 48894839
Publisher: Bacchanalia House
Published: 2019-11-18T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Nine

“Do you want me to wait up with you?” Heathcliff asked as I smoothed a blanket over the leather couch. We’d spent the rest of the evening not-so-subtly spreading the word around the fete that Jo would be conducting her forensic investigation. If a guilty party wanted to wipe any remaining prints or evidence from the scene, or recover their lost earring from Heathcliff’s desk, they’d have to sneak back into the shop tonight. I’d be here waiting for them.

Jo was visiting her cousins in Scotland for the holidays. Even if she were home, she probably wouldn’t conduct a full-on forensic investigation for a Christmas tree robbery, but the village didn’t need to know that.

“Croak!” Quoth protested, hopping across my pillow. I’m watching out for you, and I don’t want him here.

I shook my head at Heathcliff. “That’s okay. I’ve got Quoth. You go to bed.”

Heathcliff’s eyes bore into mine. I’d hurt him by refusing his help. I wondered if the offer was his way of reaching out. Maybe he was trying to get me alone so he could talk to me about what was bothering him. I opened my mouth to say I’d changed my mind, but Heathcliff was already stomping up the stairs.

I sighed and turned back to the couch. A beautiful, naked boy sat where the raven had been only moments before. “Good riddance,” Quoth growled, flipping his silken hair over his shoulder.

“Don’t be like that. I think he wanted to talk to me,” I said. “Maybe if we both went to him together and—”

“I don’t want to talk to Heathcliff. Or about Heathcliff.” Quoth reached up and pulled the cord to turn off the light. Except for a string of fairy lights looped over the balustrade, Nevermore Bookshop was plunged into darkness. The mysterious draft whipped through the room, kissing my skin with ice. Quoth shuddered and pulled me closer.

Shrouded by darkness, Quoth and I whispered together. Mostly, I let him talk, expressing his frustration and suspicion of Heathcliff in a wave of bitter resentment that sounded nothing like the Quoth I knew. I held him tight and wished I could reassure him that we’d find who really did this and get the presents back and he and Heathcliff could go back to being friends, but I wasn’t sure I was as convincing as I hoped.

The only way to repair their friendship now was to prove Heathcliff didn’t steal the tree. Quoth realized that too. It was why he was here with me, waiting in the gloom for something to happen—

A key turned in the lock. My breath hitched. I stiffened, freezing in place lest a movement should give away our vigil. In my arms, Quoth’s body shifted, silently retracting into itself as feathers poked through his skin. A moment later, a bird of shadow scrambled out of my arms and went to wait in ambush.

Creak. The door swung inward.

Creak. Creeeeeak.

Someone tiptoed across the hallway. A shadow blocked the fairy lights as the intruder hovered in the doorway, fumbling for a flashlight.

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