The Christmas Clause by Kathi Daley

Author:Kathi Daley [Daley, Kathi]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kathi Daley Books
Published: 2019-11-26T06:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Thursday, December 19

With Christmas at Main starting the next day, local gossip had segued from the shooting deaths of Star and Colton to the carnival that had rolled into town and begun to set up. So far, the storm that was threating to ruin everyone’s fun had remained to the south of us, but I knew how unpredictable storms could be. If the storm did remain to the south, I was sure the locals would get a kick out of the merry-go-round, tilt-a-whirl, and Ferris wheel. But if the storm veered north from its current course even a tiny bit, there was no way any of those rides could run.

I really hoped for Mom’s sake that things went off without a hitch. There had been enough stress in the Thomas family this week already. Mike still hadn’t found the documents we suspected had been hidden in the secret compartment of the desk, nor had he been able to narrow down who might have shot and killed these popular White Eagle residents. Of course, there might never have been any documents inside the desk, and even if there had been, we were just assuming that Star and Colton had been able to open the secret compartment to retrieve them. I supposed if there had been any documents, they were still as hidden as they’d always been, although it was Austin Wade’s opinion that if they hadn’t found and opened the secret drawer, Star would have kept calling him, and after the last set of hints he’d provided, the calls had stopped altogether, which, in his mind, indicated that she’d been successful.

Tony was still helping Mike, as was I, to the extent he allowed me to do so. It did seem as if Mike’s mood toward me had softened, and he’d actually greeted me with a smile and enthusiasm in his voice when I’d dropped off his mail yesterday. Bree was still acting as icily as ever. I’d tried to give her time, but I knew that if she was going to forgive me for lying to her husband, it was going to take more than time.

“Morning, Hattie,” I greeted her as I walked in through the front door of her bakeshop. “Something smells good.”

“I’m baking the gingerbread men I signed up to sell at Christmas on Main this morning. I’m afraid I got a late start, but this is the last batch.”

“Late start? The event doesn’t even begin until tomorrow evening.”

“True, but the baking is the easy part. Once they are made, I still have to decorate several hundred cookies.”

I could see how that would be time-consuming. Hattie explained that each cookie would be decorated to be somewhat different from all the others. Not that there were several hundred combinations, but some were smiling, some frowning, and others were given an “O” of surprise where the mouth ought to be. In addition, some had hats, others jackets, a few boots, and there were even some with overalls.

“I don’t suppose you would sell me one early,” I said.

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