Vandals and Yule Scandals: Paranormal Cozy Mystery (Mitzy Moon Mysteries Book 21) by Trixie Silvertale

Author:Trixie Silvertale [Silvertale, Trixie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781952739217
Publisher: Sittin' On A Goldmine Productions LLC
Published: 2022-11-28T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

Seeing the Olafssons so happy—in such a different place in their lives—hits me with a wave of nostalgia for my recent past in almost-Canada.

Erick is busy talking to dispatch on the radio, and it’s a testament to the depth of the emotion I’m feeling that I’m not paying any attention. My gaze is out the window and across the bleak winter fields, and my mind is somewhere else entirely. Whether I overhear something or the idea comes as a psychic message, it’s difficult to be sure. “Hey, can you drop me at my dad’s before you reach out to CC?”

The sheriff runs a hand through his slicked-back blond hair and nods. “I’m a little surprised you don’t want to eavesdrop on that call. Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah. That visit got me thinking about my life here. It’s been a little over three years, and it seems like the blink of an eye some days. Definitely feels like my dad and I need to do something about my grandpa Cal’s legacy.”

Erick tilts his head and bobs it in a decidedly Robert De Niro fashion. “You wouldn’t be trying to rewrite history, would you?”

“What do you mean?” Genuine innocence floods my features.

He taps his thumb on the steering wheel for a moment before responding. “I have no reason to question Mr. Olafsson’s version of events. If your grandfather knowingly covered up the burnt stone and accepted a championship his team didn’t deserve—”

“Oh, I totally believe what Johann said. And what’s a burnt stone?” My mouth curls up in confusion.

Long-suffering boyfriend, Erick Harper, chuckles. “If a player touches a curling stone after it crosses the blue line—no matter how slightly—it is out of play, and no points can be taken.”

“Yeesh! Those are harsh rules. But the more I find out about my grandfather’s past deeds, the more I have to shake my head.”

Erick exhales and mumbles in agreement.

“What I’d like to talk to my dad about is coming up with some way to make up for what my grandfather did. We need to make it up to the community but also to the Canadian team. My dad’s a sports guy. He’ll know what to do.”

There’s an unexpected edge to Erick’s reply. “I’m a sports guy.”

It’s unlike him to be defensive. “Hey, I wasn’t trying to pull your man card or anything. I just need to talk to my dad, all right?”

His shoulders relax, and he bobs his square jaw as he makes the turn onto First Avenue. Hopping out of the cruiser, I run across the street, shockingly staying on my feet, and wave to Erick as he pulls toward Main Street and the sheriff’s station.

The snow covering the ground adds an eerie hush to the world. Like the moment before the voiceover recording queue in a sound booth, the silence is deafening.

Hurrying past the historical marker with its large bronze plaque commemorating the original Iron Range Brewing Company, I rush into the warm interior of the Duncan Restorative Justice Foundation and take a moment to appraise the life-size bronze statue of Cal Duncan.

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