Roanoke Hoax: Blue Moon Investigations Sacramento Book 9 by Alex Gates & Steve Higgs

Author:Alex Gates & Steve Higgs [Gates, Alex & Higgs, Steve]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-11-29T00:00:00+00:00

Black Christmas. Wednesday, December 25th. 1918hrs.

“You shouldn’t curse around a lady,” Alina said, interrupting me from finishing my profanity-laced greeting.

Fred’s massive paws slammed into my shoulder with too much Christmas spirit. “Surprise, you old stump!”

Alina tilted her head and smirked. Only two months had passed since her move to San Diego, but she somehow looked older than her sixteen years. She wore an ugly Christmas sweater bearing the wonky image of Rudolph, the nose a flashing red bulb. In her arms, Bagley, the puppy I gave to Alina, wiggled to see me.

She set the double-doodle on the ground. He crouched low, his entire body vibrating with excitement, his tail whipping back and forth. A puddle of pee formed at his feet.

I had turned into a block of ice.

“Are you going to say anything?” Alina asked.

“Fred said you and your mom had plans and couldn’t return for Christmas.”

“As we all know, Fred would lie through his slimy teeth to see you squirm.”

“She’s not wrong,” Fred said. “Worth it, too. You’re a pillar of cement. Haven’t moved to hug Alina or pet your old puppy.”

I chuckled, buying myself another second to process the surprise. Then I stepped forward, dodging Bagley to wrap Alina in a hug. I’m not embarrassed to admit that tears touched my eyes. She and I communicated daily and had actual conversations every Thursday evening. But I had missed seeing her.

After we broke away, I kneeled and paid attention to my—Alina’s—impatient puppy. “Fred might be a habitual liar, but that doesn’t make him a talented secret keeper. And you?” I lifted my face to look at the teenage girl, shaking my head. “Since when can your motor mouth keep a secret like this?”

“I’m maturing,” she said with an air of pride.

The rest of the party piled into the entryway—ten people crammed into a five-by-five space. I could smell the tequila and whiskey on their breaths, the sweet stench of their sweat as they combated the warmth of their ugly sweaters and the heat from the crackling fireplace.

My mom boasted the most gregarious voice—a polite way to say she was by far the loudest of anyone else. “Alina, you look like an angel. The San Diego sunshine has done wonders for you.” She shouldered through the tight-packed bodies and threw her arms around Alina.

“Thanks, Kim. I’m happy to see you, too.”

As everyone assaulted Alina, expressing how they had missed her, and as she answered shotgun questions about San Diego, school, boyfriends, work—

“You started your own business?”

“Are you still in school?”

“What about Rhett?”

“How’s your mom?”

—Alina’s eyes danced around the entryway. They were bright and wide but dimmed and narrowed with each passing second as she counted and recounted the faces. She frowned. “Where’s Maya?” The question wafted like a deflated balloon descending to the ground. She hadn’t meant it for anyone, though she had pointed it at everyone. “I thought she was coming with her…” Alina trailed off, sparing me a skeptical side glance.

“He knows about her boyfriend,” Fred said.

The information distracted Alina from Maya’s absence.

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