Mrs. Claus and the Trouble with Turkeys by Liz Ireland

Author:Liz Ireland [Liz Ireland]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Kensington Books
Published: 2023-06-07T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

There was one place where I was reasonably certain I could find Jake, at least eventually: the Gingerbread House, the inn where he usually stayed when he was in town. I headed there after rehearsal.

“Halt!”

At the shouted command, I stopped. A snowman wearing a blue constable hat had his coal-eyed gaze focused on me. It was Pumblechook, the one Crinkles had loaned his hat to. “Just a moment there, lady,” he said.

“Is something wrong?” I asked.

“I should say so,” he said. “You looked mighty suspicious skulking along the sidewalk.”

“I wasn’t skulking, I was hurrying.”

“That’s your story, is it?”

I couldn’t believe I was being interrogated by a snowman. “Don’t you recognize me? I’m not a criminal, I’m Mrs. Claus.”

“Do you have any ID to prove that?”

“Pumblechook, you know I’m Mrs. Claus.”

“Ma’am, if you’re not going to cooperate, I’m going to have to take you in.”

Take me in? I tried not to laugh. “You’re a snowman.”

“Giving me guff isn’t going to help your case any.”

Oh, for pity’s sake. Plop a constable hat on a snowman, and suddenly he was Joe Friday. “There is no case.” I sighed. “I’m looking for someone.”

“Thin fellow, all dressed in black?” he asked. “Gang of folks with him?”

I blinked. Could Quince and Pocket be considered a gang? “Maybe . . .”

“He went thataway.”

I looked at the snowman, whose two stick arms protruded from both sides of the middle segment of his body. “Which way?”

“The way I’m pointing.”

“You have two arms pointing in opposite directions,” I reminded him.

“How many left-sticked snowman have you ever met?” He released a snuffle. “I’ll give you a hint. It rhymes with sun.”

I tilted my head. “One?”

“Shoot. It was supposed to be none.” He tried again. “How about . . .” It took him a moment. “Rhymes with hero.”

Zero, then. And his right stick was pointing toward Twinkle Street. “Thank you!”

I set off in the direction he’d pointed me to. Behind me, he called out, “I’m letting you off with a warning this time.”

I waved without looking back.

I hurried down Twinkle Street, slowing only once to admire a hardware store’s display of Pilgrims fashioned out of brooms and mops.

Up ahead, I saw a flash of black. Only it wasn’t Jake. It was Christopher, bundled in his black wool toggle coat. A young boy and a teenage elf the size of the boy were with him. They all stood around a pole looking at one of Juniper’s Missing posters for Gobbles.

Not Jake, then.

I smiled in spite of my disappointment. I’d forgotten that Christopher had promised to put up Missing posters with Hal. And that other boy must be Christopher’s elf friend, Winky.

When I hailed them, they looked up, surprised. Boys, I noticed, sometimes had a slightly furtive look, even when they were performing good deeds.

“Thanks for doing that,” I said when I caught up to them.

Christopher nodded. “Oh hi, Aunt April. This pole already had a poster. We were wondering if we should put another one on it—either below this one or on the other side of the pole.

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