Missing Under the Mistletoe Read online

  “Good. That’s where he belongs.” She gave my hands a squeeze. “I’m sorry I was rude to you earlier. Is there anything else I can do to help?”

  “Yes. Go to police station and tell them what you overheard at the workshop, because they’re not taking this matter as seriously as they should be.”

  “I will,” she said. “In fact, I’ll do that as soon as I can slip away.”

  As I got up to leave, Mrs. Guilford said, “One more thing, Mrs. Salvare. Nathan is a very disturbed young man. If he does get out of jail, don’t underestimate him.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  The photography session had barely ended when Jillian showed up at my side to retrieve her vest. “There,” she said. “I solved your problem and got to hold my baby in the family Christmas photograph.” She straightened her snowy white vest and smoothed back her long fall of copper-colored hair. “Now let’s get out of here before Harper realizes I’m gone and starts to cry.”

  We slipped quietly away and met up with Marco waiting in the car. Jillian sat in the back looking at herself through the camera on her phone as we drove around the long circular driveway leading us back to the main road.

  As we headed to town I filled Marco in on what I’d learned from Mrs. Guilford. “Nathan must have waited until Hailey left the workshop before he slipped inside to confront his dad. That was when Mrs. Guilford arrived for a kiss under the mistletoe. Hailey saw her by the door just before she went up the back stairwell to get the candy canes.”

  “Did Mrs. Guilford hear what the fight was about?” Marco asked.

  “She could hear them fighting, but didn’t stay long enough to hear what the argument was about. With the empty envelope inside the workshop, we can assume it was over the sale of the department store.”

  Marco agreed. “Maybe Nathan wasn’t happy when he found out from a letter and not his own dad.”

  “Then there was a struggle,” I continued, “with one of them hurt badly enough to leave blood behind.”

  “And the envelope fell to the floor without Nathan realizing it.”

  “Right. Then Nathan forced his dad up to the third floor knowing it would be empty because of the holiday. When I spoke to the janitor he said there was a mess of blood in Churchill’s private bathroom. We know he was up on that third floor. I am positive he is still in that building somewhere.”

  “But why take him upstairs?” Marco asked. “The emergency exit would have opened onto the alley and from there he could’ve taken him anywhere.”

  “Yes, but the emergency exit has an alarm on it. Everyone would have heard it.”

  “How do you know the alarm hasn’t been deactivated?” Marco asked.

  “It’s just a feeling. But there is one way to find out for sure,” I said, giving Marco a devilish grin.

  He lifted an eyebrow in interest. “How’s that?”

  “All we need to do is get in there and push open the door. If the alarm sounds, we know Churchill is still in the building.”

  Marco gave me his most disapproving glare. “That does not sound like the best plan right now.”

  “Then we have to get over to the station and question Nathan.”

  “No, Sunshine, we need to find Reilly. I think we should work with him, not against him.”

  “Then you’re going to have to talk to Reilly alone. He isn’t very happy with me at the moment.”

  “I’m not either,” Jillian interrupted from the backseat. “The celebration starts in like two hours and I was supposed to help your mom set up her booth. I’m not even in my costume yet.”

  “Don’t worry, Jill,” I said, as Marco stopped in front of Bloomers. “You did a good thing today, and now you can go change into your costume.”

  Jillian immediately hopped out and dashed across the street to meet my mom at her booth.

  “I’m going to go see if Reilly is still at the police booth,” Marco said. “I know he was there earlier. I’ll explain our theory and see what he says. Just promise me you won’t do anything until I return.”

  I looked down at the clock on his dash. “We’re running out of time.”

  “Promise me,” he said again.

  I let my hand drop in my lap. “I promise.”

  Before I exited the car, Marco leaned over to give me a hug and whispered in my ear, “When was the last time Team Salvare failed a mission?”

  “Never,” I whispered back.

  Back inside Bloomers, I used some of my nervous energy to close down the shop. It was almost four o’clock and there were no customers. Rosa left to take Lottie a cup of coffee outside. Most of the town had gone home to get ready for the night’s activities. The stores bordering the square were closing down too, and the employees had mostly finished setting up their booths on the courthouse lawn. Soon the sun would be setting, the festive lights on the lampposts would turn on, and the square would be filled with people once again. This was the calm before the storm.

  The clock seemed to tick at double speed as I waited for Marco to return. After closing the register and turning out the lights, I sat in the back at my workbench and pulled out my cell phone. No missed calls. The scent of flowers and the hum of the refrigeration unit usually calmed me after a stressful day, but I had a feeling this day was long from over.

  I phoned my neighbor, Theda, who watched our pets while we were at work, and informed her of our situation. She was more than happy to host them at her house for the evening, since she wouldn’t be joining us for the event. I visited with my dad and Grace who were seated in the coffee-and-tea parlor sipping coffee and watching the small TV screen.

  “Join us, won’t you, love?” Grace asked, moving toward the coffee bar. “Looks like you could use something to drink. We’ve switched to decaf, but I’ll put a fresh pot on for you.”

  When the coffee was ready, I sat down with them to discuss what I’d learned about the missing Santa, hoping that their take on the situation would help calm my nerves. “I just don’t think the police will handle this quickly enough to find Churchill before the celebration tonight,” I told them. “Nathan knows where his dad is. I need to question him, but Reilly has repeatedly told me to stay away from this case.”

  “How long has it been since Marco said he was going to talk to Reilly?” My dad asked.

  “About fifteen minutes, but I have a feeling even Marco won’t be able to convince him to help.”

  “Then do it without his help,” Dad said.

  I gave him a perplexed glance. “I’m sorry. Did I just hear my dad, former police sergeant Jeffery Knight, advise me to defy a direct order from law enforcement?”

  He reached over to tweak my arm. “How many cases have you and Marco solved together?”

  “Nineteen and counting.”

  “And how many times have I advised you to stop and let the police handle it?”

  I smiled. “Every single time.”

  “Abracadabra, listen to me,” he said, “we both know the New Chapel police are competent, hard-working men and women, but it’s Christmas Eve, and the whole town is geared up for the celebration, including the police.” He tapped the sticker attached to the pocket of his light blue button-down shirt. “Even Reilly is walking around handing out badge stickers, for heaven’s sake.

  “I know that, Dad, but what do I do about Reilly? He warned me to stay away, and he and Marco are buddies.”

  “When has that ever stopped you?”

  Just then Marco knocked on the front door. I let him in and left it unlocked so Jillian and the others could get back inside to freshen up before the celebration officially began.

  “Bad news,” Marco said. “Reilly won’t get us into the jail to talk to Nathan.”

  “I was afraid of that,” I said.

  “In fact, we had quite a heated discussion over it. But to Reilly’s credit, he did tell me that the detectives have uncovered several suspects who had the means, motives, and opportunity to do harm to Churchill.”

  “Please t
ell me Nathan is one of those suspects,” I said.

  “He is, but Reilly told me that Nathan used his one phone call to contact his family’s attorney in Chicago, and the attorney is on his way to see Nathan right now.”

  “You’re right,” I said. “That is bad news.”

  “And that’s not the end of it,” Marco continued. “Now I’m banned from the investigation as well. He said to stay away or we’d be charged with interfering with police business. He says he’s doing this for our protection as well as the police department’s.”

  Jillian burst through the Bloomers front door, causing the bells to jingle once again, followed by Lottie, Rosa, and my mom, who rushed right up to Marco for the details. Apparently he had made quite a scene. Before Marco had a chance to explain, we heard music coming from the street.

  We all gathered by the big bay windows, Grace wheeling my dad in between us for a better view, as the New Chapel Methodist Choir entered the square singing, Oh, Come All Ye Faithful. They were dressed in nineteenth century clothing, holding thick, black binders and carrying white lanterns that would soon be aglow with candlelight. Their voices filled the surrounding streets with joyous music as they circled the square.

  My heart swelled at the sight. I reached over to squeeze Marco’s hand, but he had slipped away. I turned to see him standing all alone at the back of the store, putting on his coat and scarf as though getting ready to leave. A feeling of sadness swept over me. What was keeping my husband’s heart so locked up that he couldn’t even stand to watch the carolers singing hymns of joy?

  I turned toward the window wiping away the tears in my eyes before my family could notice them. But watching the growing crowd outside brought on another depressing thought. Our beautiful celebration would go on even as Churchill lay locked up somewhere, no doubt hurt and possibly dying. No matter what the repercussions were, I simply couldn’t let that happen. I had promised Hailey that I would find her dad and I intended to keep it, with or without my husband’s help.

  At that moment I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see Marco motioning for me to follow him to the back. “I have an idea,” he said quietly. “With the help of your friend Patty, this would be the perfect time to go to the jail and question Nathan. But we need to leave right now before his lawyer gets there.”

  “Let’s go,” I said.

  “Remember,” he added, “we’ll have to be careful and stay out of sight. Reilly made it very clear what will happen if he catches us. Are you in?”

  I squeezed his hands and gave him my brightest Irish smile. “I’m all in.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  I grabbed my coat and purse and we slipped out the back door, walking briskly down the alley to the police station several blocks east of the courthouse. The side streets were beginning to fill in with parked cars and there were enough people walking toward the square that we didn’t have to worry about being spotted by Reilly. We did have to come up with a plan to talk to Nathan, however.

  “Do we go in guns blazing, or do we play it cool?” I asked.

  “I don’t think we have time to play it cool,” Marco answered. “You know the details better than I do so I’m going to let you do most of the talking.”

  “I say we rattle his cage a bit, get him worked up.”

  “Go for it, Sunshine. One way or another we need Churchill’s location. I don’t care how we have to get it.”

  We rounded the back entrance to the police station and I noticed through the buildings that the sun was just about to set. The clock was ticking down as time for the Christmas tree lighting ceremony quickly approached.

  After entering the building and having our ID’s checked, we were searched and then buzzed inside, using Patty’s name to get us through.

  “We just need ten minutes,” I explained to Patty. “I have some new information—”

  “I don’t want to know,” Patty said, cutting me off with a stern look. “I could get in a lot of trouble for this, so make it a quick ten minutes.” And with that she showed us to a small conference room just off the main holding cell where Nathan was being kept until his arraignment.

  He came into the room in handcuffs, all six feet of him. His brown hair was long, dirty and unkempt, his complexion wan. Dressed in a hooded sweatshirt, ripped jeans, and expensive sneakers, he stopped immediately and refused to sit down, glaring at us with suspicion. “You’re not my lawyer,” he said calmly. “What do you want?”

  “We’re here to help. We want to find your father,” I said.

  Nathan’s body language changed immediately. He pulled out a chair across from us at a gray metal table and placed his cuffed hands on top, one hand thickly bandaged all the way to the wrist. He lifted his chin and cocked his head, looking more intrigued than intimidated. “Could you repeat that, please?”

  I was a little thrown by his question. “We’re looking for your father.”

  “Who are you?” he asked, suddenly showing interest.

  “I’m Abby and this is my husband, Marco.” I didn’t reveal anything else. I wanted to hear what he had to say first.

  He looked at Marco and then back at me, as though calculating something in his head. “Are you cops? Or are you…?” He paused, waiting for me to fill in the blanks.

  We didn’t have time to play twenty questions, but I couldn’t get a handle on what Nathan was up to. He wasn’t behaving irrationally nor was he acting in a suspicious manner. He seemed more confused than anything, so I decided to tell him the truth, or at least part of it.

  “I’m a florist and my husband owns a bar.”

  “Down the Hatch,” Nathan said to Marco. “I thought you looked familiar.”

  Sitting with his arms crossed in front of him, studying the young man intently, Marco gave him a nod.

  “Great,” Nathan said. “Now we’re getting somewhere. I’ve already spoken with the police and I’m pretty sure I should be out of here soon.” He looked around the room. “Do you guys know what time it is? I still have to get ready.”

  “Ready for what?” I asked.

  “For tonight,” he responded emphatically. “Like you said, Santa took off and now I’ll have to take over. I would hate for all those people to miss the big show.”

  I made a mental note of his last few words before I responded. “I didn’t say Santa took off. I said we were looking for your father.”

  “Yeah, well, good luck finding him,” Nathan said sarcastically. “The police couldn’t even do that.”

  “Do you know where he is?” I finally asked.

  “Who knows? And honestly, who cares? If he wants to disappear on Christmas Eve, then good riddance.” Nathan shook his head dramatically. “I guess he wasn’t such a great guy after all. It’s a shame, really. Everyone thinks so highly of him.” He sat back with a satisfied look on his face, completely convinced that we were buying his performance.

  I had heard enough. “Nathan, where is your father?”

  His demeanor changed immediately. His breathing became staggered and his nostrils flared, but he tried desperately to keep his composure. He shook his head as if to erase his thoughts and continued cheerfully, “I was worried, being locked up here, that everything was going to fall apart. This town needs a Santa Claus and I’m determined to make sure they get one.”

  “Nathan,” I said, mentally wrapping my fingers around his cage, preparing to rattle.

  “Are you two coming tonight?” he asked. “I’d love to see the looks on your faces

  when that star lights up. It will truly be a Christmas celebration you will never forget.”

  “Nathan,” I said again, this time rattling with more authority, “where is your father?”

  Like a volcano, Nathan finally erupted. His eyes bulged and his face grew red with rage. He didn’t shout but his words came out scalding hot. “Why do you care where he is?”

  Now I could see why Mrs. Guilford was afraid of him. In as calm a voice as possible I said, “Because I promised your
sister I’d find him.”

  “No,” Nathan said, shaking his head. “That’s not true. Tell me why you really want to find him. Tell me the truth.”

  “That is the truth,” I said.

  “Just say it,” he demanded through gritted teeth. “I want to hear you say it.”

  Marco eased his arm across my lap, ready to push me out of the way if Nathan came at us.

  “What do you want me to say?” I asked.

  “That you want to save Christmas! That’s what you’re really after. You’re not looking for my dad. You don’t even know him. You’re trying to find Santa Claus. You’re trying to save your own Christmas. Say it!”

  I stared at him, unable to respond, because he’d hit closer to the truth than I’d realized. At my silence, Nathan’s eyes filled with tears. “That’s what I thought.”

  Marco must have known I was rattled. He reached over and held my hand under the table. What could I say? That, yes, I wanted to find his father and bring the person who had harmed him to justice? And yes, I wanted to tell Hailey that her father was alive and well?

  But Nathan was right. What I wanted more than anything was to save Christmas, not just for me, but for the whole town - and even more than that - I wanted to do it for my husband. I wanted him to experience the magic I felt every year when the star on top of that giant tree lit up, and the whole town cheered. I wanted the distance between us to close. I’d thought that if Team Salvare could solve this case, we’d have a reason to celebrate Christmas together.

  “What about my Christmas?” Nathan suddenly cried out, a single tear rolling down his cheek. “I want Christmas more than anyone. You think you’re the only one looking for my father? I’ve been searching for years. I don’t have a father anymore. I’m the victim here and no one is trying to save me.”

  “How can we save you?” I asked.

  “Stop looking for Levi Churchill,” he demanded. “Let the town see what kind of person he really is, abandoning his role as dear old Santa on Christmas Eve. Forget about him. Let me take over. That’s how you can save me.”