Murder Fir Christmas (7 page)

“We might have to do that,” she agreed. “But I have a lot to do before that. I’ll probably just drive my truck for a while until things have a chance to settle down. Thanks for your help.”

“Glad to be there.” He smiled as they reached town hall again. “I think I’m going to run over to the cafe for some real breakfast. Come join me if you get a chance.”

“I will. Thank you.”

They parted at the curb with Bonnie going inside to talk with Chief Rogers. She watched Matthew as he headed down the sidewalk. He was a big man, with a powerful chest and wide shoulders. People moved out of his way as he walked. But he seemed to know most of them and stopped to talk with a few.

Chief Rogers was waiting for her. “Anything yet on Harvey’s body? I hate to tell his wife and kids that we lost him.”

“Not yet. They were just letting the casting set when I came back.” She swallowed hard and glanced at him. “I’ll tell them, Chief. I was with him. He was kind of my partner. I’ll take care of it.”

He nodded. “All right. I’m glad to have you here, Agent Tuttle.”

“Thanks, Chief.” She shook his hand. “I still might need some help with the Hummer if we can’t find Harvey or the keys have gone missing.”

“Not a problem. If I know Harvey, he left a spare set in his office. You just have to be able to get down the mountain to Christmas Tree Valley. Good luck with that before tomorrow.”

“I guess I’ll get there as soon as I can. I’d appreciate it if you let me know if you hear anything about Harvey.”

He nodded and went into his office.

Sandie was glad to give up custody of the young wolf. “I didn’t have any trouble with him. What are you gonna do with him?”

“I hope to get him well again and release him into the wild,” Bonnie told her. “Thanks for keeping an eye on him.”

“No problem. Tell your mother I said hello. I hope to see you again soon when it doesn’t have anything to do with murder.”

Bonnie carefully lifted the wolf that was still nestled in her jacket. Lucky for her it wasn’t an expensive jacket because she probably wouldn’t be able to get it clean when it was over.

“Easy boy,” she said as she opened the door to her truck. Most of the ice and snow had melted off of it. She had to move some of her things—she’d brought everything she owned with her—to make the place for the wolf on the front seat. He growled a little then went back to sleep with his tail curled around him.

She wanted to take a look at the road that led down to the valley. Maybe enough people had gone down that way that she could get down there too. She got in and tried to start the truck, but when the engine wouldn’t turn over, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

“That doesn’t sound too good,” Matthew said. “Pop the hood, and I’ll take a look at it. It might just not be used to the weather.”

Bonnie rolled down the window. “Thanks. I thought you were going to be at the cafe?”

“I forgot to give you my secret concoction for your wolf. How’s he doing?”

“About the same.” She took the bottle that looked like it had Grey Poupon mustard in it. “This goes on him, not in him, right?”

“Right. I don’t want to continue sedating him. It will make it harder for him to heal. He’ll get a little friskier, but that’s the way he should be. Make sure you wear gloves when you handle him.”

She stifled a frown at his comment. Just who was the Wildlife Agent here? “I appreciate it. Let me try the truck again while you’re here.”

He nodded after opening the hood. She turned the key and nothing happened. He did something under the hood that she couldn’t see and told her to try it again. The engine just wasn’t starting.

After a long day yesterday and the early hike through the snow this morning, Bonnie was ready to scream. Her phone rang—her brother again. She ignored it, since nothing had changed.

“Leave the truck here for now,” Matthew advised through her open window. “I’ll put some chains on my truck, and we’ll get down the mountain. I know you’ve got stuff to do. No point in sitting around up here.”

It appeared to be the only answer she could find. She knew Eric was antsy to get on the plane and start his new life. She needed to get the wolf settled before the sedative Matthew had given him wore off. Without the keys for the Hummer, this was her best chance to get to the valley.

“I know I seem to be saying this a lot, but thanks.” She smiled at him as she got out of the truck. “I’d like to take a few things with me, if you don’t mind. I can get someone to take care of the truck tomorrow and get everything home after that.”

“I’m happy to help.” He grinned. “And this way if I ever get on the wrong side of the Wildlife Agency, you’ll owe me.”

“You’re right,” she agreed. “Let me get my stuff.”

While Matthew put the chains on his tires, Bonnie grabbed three essential bags that held toiletries and some clothes she’d need. She asked Sandie if it was okay if she left her truck where it was for now. Sandie told her it would be fine.

After putting her bags into Matthew’s truck, Bonnie carefully grabbed the wolf and got him comfortable in the back seat.

“We’re right back here again, huh, boy?” She stroked his head. “Trust me, we’ll get past this. You’re gonna be okay.”

Once everything was set, Bonnie called her brother and told him she was leaving Sweet Pepper. He had nothing to say but a bunch of snarky remarks that she ignored.

“You’re smiling,” Matthew observed as he got behind the wheel. “That must be a good sign. If you can still smile after everything you’ve been through since yesterday, things are looking up.”

She fastened her seatbelt and hoped the steep road to the valley was in decent shape. “It wasn’t how I’d envisioned coming home for good, but I’m sure it will all work out.”

He started the truck. “What are you going to name the wolf?”

“I’m not naming him anything. It’s not like he’s a pet I’m going to keep.”

“Yeah but he’s going to be part of your life for a few weeks. He needs a name. How are you going to call him if he doesn’t have a name?”

They had reached Christmas Tree Valley Road. A dozen signs showed pictures of cars and trucks at steep angles, some of them bent where they’d been hit by an errant fender. Bonnie could see the snow covered valley before her, and the snow covered road in front of her that dropped with a thirty percent grade.

“All right,” Matthew said. “Hang on to your hat.”

Because there were so many trees on the ridge above the road, very little morning sunlight reached the road. Afternoon sunlight would melt the snow and ice, leaving puddles that would freeze during the long night. People who made it into the valley today would have a hard time getting out again tomorrow.

Bonnie kept one hand on the door, but even though she was scared, she had to admire the serene, winter beauty of her home. Christmas Tree Valley didn’t have a big population—three hundred and sixty two the last time she checked. There were a few churches, their steeples still sparkling with white crystals, and the general store that doubled as a post office. The rest were houses and buildings. Interspersed with the houses and storage buildings were Douglas fir and blue spruce trees that reached for the sky.

She could pick out the tree farms because the trees grew in a more orderly fashion. Hundreds of acres were devoted to growing the best trees in the world. A large, wood-and-brass plaque at the general store had the names engraved of every family that had grown a Christmas tree for the White House. There were many names celebrated there. It was the brass ring that every farmer reached for.

“Did anyone have a tree for the White House this year?” she asked Matthew.

“Nope. Not for the last few years. It doesn’t seem to hurt business any—not like this snow and ice will. But people still like thinking about it. My brother and I have been getting a tree ready for next year. Our family has never grown one that went to Washington.”

“My grandfather grew one,” she said, her nose almost pressed against the frosty window to look out at the colorful scene stretched before her all the way to the mountains behind. “I think that was in 1950.”

He laughed. “Don’t toy with me. Like you said, you haven’t been gone that long. Everyone who lives here can tell you exactly what date, who was in office, and how tall the tree was. Go on. Spill it.”

“You’re right. It’s like learning multiplication here, isn’t it? Our tree was twenty-five feet, three inches, blue spruce, and the president was Truman.”

“I knew it. You were trying to spare my feelings, weren’t you?”

“You’re either one way or another about the trees,” she remembered. “Either you gloat or you’re modest about it. My mother taught me not to gloat.”

“Lucky it was you with the tree and not me. My dad taught me to gloat. If we have a winning tree next year, I’ll be gloating.”

Bonnie laughed at him. “You just don’t seem like the type.”

One of the tires hit a slick patch on the road that looked as though it had snowed only a few minutes before. The wheel slid to the side of the road, too close to the edge that only had a flimsy looking guard rail.

She caught her breath, but he got the truck back on track. Her hand ached from holding the door handle so tightly.

“Sorry about that.” He glanced at her. “You’re white as a sheet. I guess you really don’t like driving in the snow. You’re gonna have to get over it, you know? You’ll have a heart attack or something.”

“Don’t look at me,” she instructed in a panicked voice. “Keep your eyes on the road.” She reached over and put her hand on his on the steering wheel. “And remember the ten and two positions? You should have your hands at those places for optimum control of the vehicle.”

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry. You’re safe with me.”

She looked at her hand where he’d covered it with one of his. “Onehanded now? I don’t feel very safe.”

He laughed at her and put both his hands on the wheel again. “You know how many times I’ve come down this road drunk as a skunk? Not for a long time now, but when I was in high school, I didn’t think anything of it.”

The road turned sharply in almost a U-turn that required the truck to rumble to a stop to get around the edge of a large rock that protruded on one side. Bonnie closed her eyes and didn’t open them until she heard the chains jingling as they started down the last part of the road.

“See? Nothing to it,” he boasted. “I drove one of the semis that takes the trees out of the valley for a while. Talk about a wild ride. I’m glad to leave that to someone else now.”

The last part of the road wasn’t as steep and smoothed out as it came down in the valley. A large sign that said, “Welcome to Christmas Tree Valley, Home of the Best Christmas Trees in the World,” had been newly painted since she’d been there over the summer. Two big trees were on either side of it, both decorated with lights and large ornaments.

As they were coming into the small main area, Bonnie got excited as she always did when she came home to see her family. No matter how long she’d been in Alabama, this would always be the place she came back to. She’d never really thought about living here again, but it looked like that was her future. Except for driving during the winter, it didn’t seem so bad.

Chapter Eight

Bonnie’s family tree farm was nearly one hundred acres of carefully pruned and cared-for blue spruce. A smattering of Douglas firs edged the property—wild trees but never cut down. The two large blue spruce guarded both sides of the driveway, only garnished with snow and icicles, but they were breathtaking.

“Where do you live, Matthew?” she asked as they started up the drive. Someone had been out with a plow or snow blower already. Very little snow was on the road or the drive. Bonnie remembered that everyone took turns clearing the road since the county never sent plows this far out from Sevierville.

“I’m about a mile that way.” He pointed back the other way. “You could see my place from the road coming down. We put on a bright red roof last year, and it says ‘Merry Christmas from Brown Elk Farms.’ We get customers before they even get off the road.”

Bonnie had noticed the red roof that was especially bright in the snow. The Merry Christmas part had been obscured by the white stuff, but it still made a powerful statement.

“We might have to steal that idea from you,” she joked.

“Go ahead. I borrowed it from someone else anyway.”

Eric had seen them coming from the house and stepped outside. He smiled when he saw Bonnie get out of the truck and walked out to greet her with a big hug. Their mother was right behind him with tears and kisses when she saw her daughter.

“Thanks for bringing her down the mountain.” Eric shook hands with Matthew. “She might not have made it down until spring with the way she feels about driving in the snow.”

Bonnie watched the two men together. Eric was tall and strongly built, muscular from years of working on the tree farm. He was blond and blue eyed and had just turned fifty. Her mother had been blond too, with blue eyes. Her hair was white now.

She didn’t remember Eric’s father. He’d died before she was born. Her father had married her mother when Rose was in her late thirties. Bonnie had been born a short time later. That made Bonnie and her brother almost twenty years apart and like a whole other family.

Matthew was taller than Eric and much darker. The two made an interesting picture, standing together as they spoke. It was not surprising that he and Eric knew one another. Everyone knew everyone else in Christmas Tree Valley. No doubt she’d bumped into Matthew earlier in life without remembering him when they met again.

“Come inside, and let’s warm up with some hot cider,” Rose invited him.

“I’d love to, but Peter is with Tom. I know they’ve been wondering when I’m getting back. Raincheck?”

“Always.” Rose smiled at him.

“I’ll see you later, Bonnie,” Matthew said. “It’s been a pleasure. Don’t forget the pup.”

As he was heading back to his truck, Eric and Rose asked, “Pup?” in unison.

Bonnie didn’t answer. There was time enough for that later. She ran to get her things, handing them off to Eric so she could bring the wolf inside.