it go,” she urged. “It’s almost Christmas.” If Roy took a break from the case, he might free his mind to explore solutions. It often happened like that; a case would lie fallow for months and then overnight a small piece of evidence her husband had found months earlier—a bit of conversation, a previously unrelated detail—would suddenly click into place. Soon afterward, he’d have the answers he needed.
“I can’t do that just yet,” he mumbled. “I’ve got a few feelers out.”
Corrie nearly groaned. The problem was, once Roy asked for favors, he owed just as many in return. It all depended on whom he’d contacted and why. “What sort of feelers?”
“Not to worry, most of it can be done over the Internet.”
“It’s almost Christmas,” she reminded him again. For once, she wanted him to simply enjoy the holiday and stop thinking about work.
“Yes,” he agreed mildly.
“Our children will be home soon, and it’s important that we spend time as a family.”
“I agree,” he said, “but I want you to remember there’s another family somewhere who’s missing a father this Christmas.”
Corrie had remained emotionally detached from the man who’d turned up dead at the Beldons’ B and B. He was a stranger who’d chosen to carry false identification. Nothing was known about him or his reasons for being in town. Because of that, Corrie hadn’t thought of him as a real person with a home and a wife and perhaps children.
“You’re doing a missing person’s search, aren’t you?”
Roy shrugged, which in itself was an answer. “Go, and have a good time with Peggy,” he told her.
“Do you want me to bring you back anything for lunch?”
Roy shook his head. “I’ll get by with peanut butter and jelly.” His favorite midday meal.
Corrie left then, and spent a pleasant afternoon with her new friend. It felt good to get out, to be part of the annual Christmas-shopping experience. They ate at the mall’s food court, chatting over pizza slices and Coke as holiday tunes filled the air. Soon the two women were caught up in the crowd of shoppers.
Corrie bought Linnette new gloves and Mack a Cedar Cove sweatshirt, and Peggy chose a new golf club for Bob and a book of plays. Bob loved community theater. Roy and Corrie had recently seen him in the fall production of Arsenic and Old Lace. He was actually quite talented. For her husband, Corrie bought a beautiful volume of Sherlock Holmes stories.
From Peggy’s comments, Corrie sensed that Bob was putting the unfortunate circumstances regarding the John Doe behind him. She knew the police had questioned him, but whatever their concern, it had apparently been laid to rest.
The two women left the mall at about three, saying goodbye in the parking lot. Vendors sold fresh-cut Christmas trees, and Corrie breathed deeply, inhaling the pungent scent of pine and fir. Nothing smelled more like Christmas.
When she returned to the office, she found Roy hunched over his computer, a plate and an empty milk glass sitting on his desk. He stared intently at the computer screen and hadn’t noticed her.
“Any phone calls?” she asked.
Roy raised his head. “Oh, hi. What? Phone calls?”
“Did the telephone go ring, ring, ring?” she teased.
He shook his head.
“Do you want to hear about my lunch?” She waited, but when he didn’t respond, she continued. “In case you’re interested, Peggy and I had a great time. I was thinking maybe we could invite them over for New Year’s Eve.”
Again nothing.
Corrie sighed. “Peggy’s such a good cook, I’ll bet no one ever thinks to invite her to dinner. You like Bob, don’t you?”
Her husband stared up at her blankly. Corrie was starting to feel irritated.
“I like the Beldons,” she said in a firm voice. “I think all four of us could become friends.”
Roy leaned back in his chair and fixed his gaze on her. “I don’t think that would be a good idea.”
Corrie’s cheerful mood evaporated. “Why not?” she asked.
Roy stood and walked slowly around his desk. His shoulders slouched, he ran his hand through his hair, disheveling it.
Corrie stiffened. Roy had found something in his Internet search, and whatever it was, he didn’t want to tell her.
“Do you think Bob is somehow linked to the John Doe?” she asked bluntly.
Roy’s eyes met hers and he nodded.
She swallowed tightly. The one friend she’d found, and now this.
“Do you think Bob had something to do with his death?” she asked next. She didn’t want to believe it, didn’t want to consider what that would mean for Peggy.
Roy walked back to the other side of his desk and sat down. “I don’t know, but I’m not ruling it out.”
Olivia’s Christmas was all planned. Justine, Seth and Leif, as well as her mother, would be at her house for dinner by midafternoon. Olivia had invited Jack, too, but unfortunately he’d already made arrangements to join Eric and Shelly and the twins in Reno.
“Next year we’ll be together,” Jack promised. He’d stopped at her place early Christmas morning, before he left for the airport. She gave him her gift—a first edition of H. L. Mencken—and he set his gifts for her under the tree.
“Promise for next year?” she asked, when he’d kissed her farewell.
“Promise.” Jack gathered her in his arms and kissed her again.
Olivia felt the warmth of that kiss all the way to her toes, and when he’d finished, her head was spinning. They were only now recovering their ease and comfort with each other, although they remained a little on edge, afraid of toppling the delicate balance.
For her part, Olivia was careful. Neither of them had discussed Stan, although her ex-husband still called her often—always for what appeared to be legitimate reasons.
Stan was smart. He wanted back in her life and he was a patient man. For the moment, he was letting things slide, doing nothing overt. Olivia knew her ex-husband, though. At some point, when he figured the time was right, Stan would swoop in.
“Will you be here for New Year’s Eve?” she asked, looking up at Jack. The thought of spending the night playing Scrabble with her mother held little appeal, although it’d been their tradition for almost a decade. If Jack could join them, it would turn an otherwise routine evening into something truly entertaining. Charlotte loved Jack as much as Olivia did.
“I’m sorry,” he said, “but I already made other plans.”
Her smile faded, and her heart thudded
