Mistletoe Justice. Carol J. Post

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Mistletoe Justice - Carol J. Post


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pass. “We need you to look around and see if anything is missing.”

      She made her way toward the living room. She wouldn’t bother checking her room. If the intruder had come down the hall, she would have heard him. Except for the two bedrooms, the vinyl tile ran throughout the house.

      She stepped into the combined living and dining area. The deputies had turned on the lights. Envelopes lay strewn about the small dining room table. She pointed that direction.

      “They went through my mail.” When she’d laid it there, it had been stacked in one neat pile. But as near as she could tell, they hadn’t taken any of it.

      She circled the kitchen, still holding Jayden. All the cabinet doors and drawers were closed, just as she’d left them. So far, nothing appeared disturbed, other than her mail. She crossed the room to the living area. Six files sat in a stack on the coffee table. Except they weren’t as neat as when she’d gone to bed. It was as if someone had checked the labels, sliding each file over a half inch to see the label beneath.

      She nodded toward the stack. “I think he touched these.”

      “What’s in them?”

      “They’re vendor and customer files, work I brought home with me yesterday.” Hopefully, he wouldn’t press her further.

      Before leaving the office, she’d pulled files for four other customers and two vendors who had asked her out, just in case the mystery man was someone other than Fuller. If Claire had stumbled across Wiggins’s secrets, the proof was likely contained in the paperwork at the mine. But after poring over each file and researching the companies online, she’d come up with nothing.

      And her attempts to call Claire weren’t any more successful. She couldn’t even leave a message. After Claire’s outgoing message, a computerized voice announced that the mailbox was full.

      Darci sighed and met the older deputy’s eyes. “I don’t understand how they got in.”

      “Through the slider.”

      She had guessed that much. “But I had it locked.”

      “It wasn’t very secure.” He led her back through the dining area to the door. “I would recommend getting a Charley-Bar. Or at the least have someone drill a hole and put a pin through here.” He indicated a point several inches from the top, where the frames of the two doors crossed.

      “I’ll do that.” And the sooner the better. She’d never been nervous about staying alone. But knowing someone had come into her house while she and Jayden slept changed everything.

      The deputy moved to unlock the front door. “We’ll dust the slider for prints, along with your dining room table and coffee table. And we’ll see what we can pick up on your mail and files while we’re at it.” He swung the door open and turned back around. “Any idea who might have done this?”

      Her gaze traveled back to the files sitting on the coffee table. Wiggins. He wouldn’t have done it himself, but he was behind it. After slipping the files into her bag, she had glanced up to see him standing in her doorway. She’d hoped he hadn’t seen anything.

      Apparently he had.

      She opened her mouth to say so, then had second thoughts. What if Wiggins had already redirected any trails of wrongdoing to her? What if she got an investigation started and it led to her arrest?

      She shook her head. “I can’t think of anyone.”

      Guilt pricked her. But she wasn’t lying. She really didn’t know who had broken in to her house.

      The deputy studied her. She’d hesitated too long.

      “If you think of anyone, let us know.”

      She gave him a sharp nod.

      Already it was starting. Wiggins was making sure she didn’t talk. He didn’t have to threaten to make her disappear.

      The thought of going to jail and leaving her parents to raise her child was enough to seal her lips so tightly a crowbar couldn’t pry them open.

      * * *

      Conner followed Kyle up the stairs at Natures Landing Condominiums, pleasantly full from dinner. All week long, he’d hoped for an opportunity to talk to Darci. There was something about her, a sweet innocence that was at odds with the idea that she could be involved in anything sinister. The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became—she was in trouble.

      But both times their paths had crossed in the employee break room, Darci had brushed him off and hurried back to her office. He hadn’t followed. Though he’d tried to come up with a plausible reason why the mechanic would need to meet with the accounting manager, he’d drawn a blank.

      Then yesterday, a fellow employee had mentioned that Darci had a son and spent weekends at her parents’ place in Cedar Key. So as soon as he’d gotten off work tonight, he’d packed two bags, loaded up Kyle and embarked on a minivacation.

      Kyle reached the top of the stairs and ran full speed toward their room, excitement bubbling over. In fact, he’d been buzzing with eagerness from the moment they hit Cedar Key. Conner smiled. He would enjoy it while it lasted. All too soon, they would head back home and he’d have the old Kyle back—the sullen boy who found fault with everything anyone did for him.

      But Conner couldn’t blame him. Overnight, he’d been ripped from his home and friends in Crystal River and dragged to Chiefland. No wonder the kid was messed-up. And it was far from over. Next week they had Thanksgiving to get through. Four weeks after that, Christmas. By then, he’d probably be back with his grandparents. That had been the initial plan. But a week after Claire’s disappearance, Conner’s stepdad had had a heart attack, followed by a quadruple bypass, and his mom couldn’t care for both of them.

      When Conner got to the door, Kyle was still struggling with the lock, so he reached up to help him. Five seconds later, Kyle burst into their rented condo. Conner sighed. Too bad kids didn’t come with troubleshooting guides, because this one needed fixing, and he didn’t have the manual, tools or experience to do it. He’d never planned to be in this position. His determination to keep his relationships casual had guaranteed that he would never have to take on the role of husband or father. Until now.

      With his stepdad’s heart attack, Kyle’s care had fallen on him—the least qualified man on the planet. His own father had been loud and abusive. The stepdads that followed hadn’t been any better. Once his newest stepdad fully recovered, Conner could give Kyle back. Meanwhile, he’d be saddled with an angry, rebellious kid, and Kyle would be stuck with the world’s sorriest excuse for a father.

      By the time Conner closed the door, Kyle had settled himself on the nearest bed and snatched the remote from the nightstand. Bursts of sound filled the room as he advanced through the channels.

      “Get your pajamas on and your teeth brushed first.”

      With a groan of protest, Kyle flung himself to his feet, then lifted the Avengers duffel bag onto the bed. “Then can I watch whatever I want?”

      “No.”

      “Why not?”

      “Did your mother let you watch anything you wanted?”

      Kyle fished through the bag and pulled out a pair of pajamas. “No.”

      “Then I won’t, either.”

      “Is that so she won’t be mad at you if she comes back?”

      If she comes back. “Yeah, something like that.”

      At first it was when. Now, six months later, it was if. At seven years old, the kid was already facing reality.

      Kyle disappeared into the bathroom and came back out two minutes later, dressed in his pajamas, toothbrush and toothpaste in hand. The clothes he took off were probably on the bathroom floor, and his teeth were likely not as clean as they should be. But tonight, Conner chose


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