High Country Christmas. Cynthia Thomason
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the windows and doors of the administrative office, as well as all residences, were secured at night. The other door leading from the lobby, the one to the kitchen, was open. Unusual, but still that didn’t explain a cold late-November wind sweeping through the interior of the building. Nothing should be open, and the security system should have detected anything out of the ordinary.
Ava listened carefully. Hearing no sound, she grabbed an oak walking stick from the umbrella stand by the door and ventured slowly into the hallway. Just a few short steps and she would be at the kitchen, the element of surprise on her side. A soft light guided her way. Nice, but there shouldn’t be a light in the kitchen at this hour.
She gripped the walking stick, flexing her hand with each step. All the resident children lived with their “cottage parents” in smaller structures around the campus, so no one would be inclined to visit the main kitchen in the administration building, where Ava lived. All residents could go to their own, smaller kitchen if they needed a late-night snack. The administration kitchen was only used for staff lunches and group meetings.
Ava walked through the kitchen doorway and stopped. The light she’d seen came from the open refrigerator door. A small, slight figure was crouched on the floor in front of the open door. He—or she—Ava couldn’t tell since the person was wearing a hoodie, was rifling through food items in the crisper drawer.
Determining that she had probably four inches on the intruder and at least twenty pounds, Ava smacked the walking stick against the door frame and spoke loudly and forcefully. “What do you think you’re doing?”
The intruder squawked in a decidedly female way, and fell back on her fanny. Jerking her head around so half her face was visible under the hood, she said, “Good grief, you scared the crap out of me!”
Ava took a moment to process the offending remark before saying, “That’s hardly the point. Who are you and what are you doing in here?”
The girl stood, yanked up her jacket zipper. “Nothing. I was just leaving. You can have your precious food all to yourself.”
Using the walking stick, Ava blocked the girl’s exit from the kitchen to the backyard. She made a quick appraisal. The girl was thin but appeared healthy. Her skin glowed pink from being out in the elements on a chilly night.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Ava said. “If you’re hungry, I’ll fix you something to eat, but first I’m getting an explanation.”
The girl seemed to weigh her options, and quickly decided that decent food was a fair trade for providing a reason for her breaking and entering, even if that reason were a lie. “Okay, I’ll eat.”
“Sit down,” Ava said, pointing to one of the chairs surrounding the kitchen worktable. Ava took three eggs and some bacon from the fridge, placed a skillet on the stove and began preparing a meal. She kept one eye on the late-night guest while she cooked.
“What’s your name?” she asked the girl.
At first the intruder shrugged, but finally she said, “Taylor Grande.”
Ava smiled to herself. “Is it a coincidence that your name is made up of two of today’s hottest female pop singers?”
“Yeah. My mother had a crystal ball when I was born. She knew I would be famous and wanted to give me a head start.”
Remembering the draft when a chill penetrated Ava’s bones, she went to the window and yanked down the glass. With a quick twist, she secured the window’s lock. “I assume this is how you got in.”
“Yep.”
“Wasn’t the window locked?”
“No. Is it supposed to be?”
“Of course it is. Plus, we have a dependable security system on every opening on every building on the campus. I should have heard an alarm. Our security chief should have registered the entry in his office.”
“Looks like somebody screwed up,” Taylor Grande said.
Ava transferred the food to a plate, poured a glass of milk and set the meal on the table. “I’ll add two slices of toast if you tell me how you dismantled the security system.”
“I’ll take the toast.” Taylor shoveled a forkful of food into her mouth. She followed it with a gulp of milk, and then took an object from her hoodie pocket.
Ava reached for the walking stick when she saw the shiny object, but quickly set her weapon back against the table when she realized she wasn’t in danger. “What’s that?”
“A Swiss Army Knife. I thought everyone knew that.”
“Well, of course I know,” Ava said. “But what does it have to do with you breaking and entering?”
Taylor switched a pocket-size knife from the center of the instrument. “Simple. I cut the wire leading to the window alarm.” She took another bite of food. “I’m only telling you this because after I finish this meal, I’m heading out and you’ll never see me again. And also because you need to update the security around here. Everything should be digital. Wires are an open invitation to people with bad intentions.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Ava busied herself with making a pot of coffee. She doubted she’d sleep much tonight now that she knew their security system left a lot to be desired.
“That’s a great idea,” Taylor said, looking longingly at the coffee brewer. “I could use a cup.”
Ava scowled at her. “What are you, fourteen?”
“Close enough.”
“You should not be drinking coffee.”
“Maybe you should have told me that three years ago.”
“And another thing...” Ava said. “You are not going out into this weather again tonight. It’s supposed to go into the thirties. Is that hoodie all the protection you have?”
For the first time Taylor pushed the hood from her head, revealing dark blond hair hurriedly tamed into a messy single braid. Her hair was dirty with strands falling over her face. “I’ll find a place to sleep,” she said.
Ava poured herself a cup of coffee and refused the request to fill a second cup for her intruder. She sat across from Taylor and sipped her coffee. “Do you even know where you are? Do you know what this place is?”
“Some kind of orphanage, right?”
“We don’t use that word so much these days,” Ava said. “But yes, this is a children’s home. Some of our kids don’t have parents. Some are estranged from their families. Children come here for all sorts of reasons.”
Taylor gave her a curious stare. “Don’t get any ideas about me. I didn’t come here for anything but food. The truck driver who gave me a ride from Boone pointed this place out when he dropped me off, said I could probably find a free meal. That’s all I came for.”
“And that’s all I’ve offered you, isn’t it?” Ava said, grateful that the truck driver had pointed this girl to a place of safety.
“Well, yeah.” Taylor layered egg and bacon on half a piece of toast and shoved the whole thing in her mouth.
“There is one thing we tend to ask anyone who might be interested in staying here...”
“I’m not interested.”
“Right. I know, but indulge me. Where are you supposed to be? Where are your parents?”
“Beats me. As for where I’m supposed to be, that’s really just my business.” She placed her fork and knife on her plate and wiped her mouth with a napkin. “Thanks for the meal. It was more than I thought I’d get. I figured I’d end up scarfing down some lettuce and carrots from your fridge, but this was way better.” She yawned, rubbed her hand across her forehead. “Guess I’ll be going now.”
“Planning