Yuletide Jeopardy. Sandra Robbins
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The minute she walked in the door she spotted the small box wrapped in brown paper on her desk. Her name and the address of the station were on the mailing label, but there were no stamps on the package. This had not come through the mail.
She was about to pick it up when a voice at the door startled her. “I see you found your delivery.”
Grace whirled to see Julie Colter, a new employee, standing in the doorway. “Good morning, Julie. Did you see who delivered this?”
“Yes, it was a private messenger service. The guy asked if I would give it to you and I said I would.”
Grace frowned. “Did you sign that you’d received the delivery?”
Julie shook her head. “No, he was gone before I had a chance to ask him.”
Grace sighed. “Do you know the name of the messenger service?”
Julie thought for a moment before she shook her head again. “No, he just said it was a special delivery for you. I guess I assumed he was from a service.” Julie’s eyebrows rose, and her face turned red. “Did I do something wrong, Miss Kincaid?”
Grace hesitated before she answered. “Sometimes our newscasts can upset some people. We don’t know who might send something harmful to us. We just need to be careful when accepting deliveries.”
Tears welled in Julie’s eyes, and she bit down on her lip. “Oh, Miss Kincaid, please don’t tell the station manager I did anything wrong. I need this job. If he fired me, I don’t know what I’d do.”
Grace reached out and patted Julie’s arm. “Now, now. Don’t get upset. Nobody’s going to get fired. You just need to be more careful in the future.”
Julie nodded. “I will. I promise. Now, is there anything I can do for you?”
“No, thank you.”
Julie eased toward the door. “Then I’ll get back to work, and I promise I won’t make that mistake again.”
Grace nodded and didn’t speak as the girl left the room. How many mistakes had Julie made since she was hired? It seemed the subject of Julie and her mishaps came up in the conversation no matter who you talked to at the station. She probably wouldn’t make it much longer if her work didn’t improve.
After a moment Grace turned her attention back to the package on her desk. Did it contain the clue her anonymous caller had told her about the day before? She leaned closer and studied the name and address on the mailing label. They had been typed, not handwritten, and there were no strings tied around the box, just tape to hold the paper.
Should she open it or not? Only a year ago a Memphis accountant had been injured when he opened an package that contained a bomb. Perhaps she should have Alex take a look at it or even dust it for fingerprints, but she would feel foolish if there was nothing threatening inside the envelope.
She pulled the tape loose and stepped back, then chuckled. If the box contained a bomb, a few steps away from the desk wouldn’t be enough distance to offer any protection. She eased back to the desk and loosened the package’s paper. It fell away to reveal a square box that looked to be about eight inches on each side.
Her heart pounded as she lifted the top of the box and peered inside. A folded piece of paper lay atop something wrapped in tissue paper. Frowning, she pulled the note out and unfolded it.
Dear Miss Kincaid,
I enjoyed our chat yesterday, and I have done as I promised. I have enclosed directions inside this box for the first stop on your journey. For a knowledgeable geocacher like you the puzzle should be no problem. Solve it, and you will find what I have left for you somewhere in the city. I will be watching to see if you are successful. I’m looking forward to our journey together as you find out the truth about Landon’s death.
Your Anonymous Friend
The words made Grace’s skin prickle, and she read the note several times before she reached in the box and pulled out the tissue-wrapped object. She tore the paper away and blinked her eyes in surprise at the six-sided puzzle cube she held. She slowly turned it and studied the twisty puzzle’s mixture of white, red, blue, orange, green and yellow squares. Someone had turned the faces many times to make sure the colors were thoroughly mixed over every surface.
Something written on one of the white squares caught her eye, and she stared closer at it. Her breath hitched in her throat. A quick glance over the other surfaces told her that more white squares had markings. GPS coordinates! Her caller had just sent her a challenge. Solve the puzzle by arranging all the white cubes on one side and she would have a location where she would find a clue about Landon’s killer.
She dropped down in her desk chair and began to twist the faces of the puzzle in an attempt to get all the white-colored surfaces on one side. After twenty minutes she was ready to throw the toy in the trash can. She’d played with these puzzles when she was growing up and never had mastered the art of getting all the sides back in order. She doubted if she could do it now.
“What are you doing?” Todd stood in the doorway to her office. A smirk pulled at his lips, and he let his gaze drift back and forth from her face to the puzzle in her hand. “Don’t you have anything better to do than play with toys? We do have a noon newscast to do, you know.”
Grace opened her desk drawer, shoved the puzzle inside and stood. “I like to keep my mind sharp, Todd. You might try doing that sometime yourself.”
He glared at her and took a step forward. “Someday you’re going to go too far with me, Grace.”
She ignored the remark and crossed her arms. “Do you need something?”
Todd shook his head. “No, I just thought I’d check and see if you’d had any response to your plea on yesterday’s newscast for information about Landon Mitchell’s death.”
“I haven’t had anything concrete yet.”
He cocked one eyebrow. “But you have had something?”
She shook her head. “Nothing I can talk about.”
He pursed his lips and frowned. “Okay. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”
“I will.”
She waited until he’d left before she sank back in her chair. Nothing would please Todd better than to scoop her on the story of Landon’s death. She would have to be more careful in the future.
Grace pulled the drawer open and looked down at the puzzle. She should call Alex. She’d promised to let him know if she heard anything from her mysterious caller. She jumped up, hurried to the door and closed it before she returned to her desk and dialed Alex’s cell phone. He answered on the first ring.
“Hello, Grace.”
The abrupt tone of his voice startled her, and she winced. “My, my. Don’t you sound grouchy this morning?”
“I’m sorry.