Where's Hansel and Gretel's Gingerbread House?: A Gabby Grimm Fairy Tale Mystery #2 (15 page)

She also had therapy sessions every day for
the first couple of weeks. We took turns driving her back and forth
to her appointments, stopping for lunch along the way, giving her a
chance to explore her new world.

I managed to track down Aunt Angelika and
Uncle Tom on their extended cruise to South America. After
reassuring them that everything was fine, I put their daughter on
the phone for a very teary conversation on Wednesday. I also
invited them to join us for Christmas. Gerhard promised to pick
them up at Logan Airport after they arranged for a change in their
flight home. The farmhouse was going to be packed to the rafters
come Christmas Eve.

Will checked in daily, often about eight
every night. I finally figured out that’s when he was alone in his
apartment. Usually, the conversations lasted about ten minutes.
Sometimes, he would call me after, to compare notes. He wanted to
know how Annette was handling things. A week before Christmas, I’d
had enough of the third degree.

“For heaven’s sake, why don’t you just get
your fanny up here and find out for yourself?” I demanded.

“Oh, I can’t intrude on family time.”

“No? You’re just going to be a miserable bump
on a log down there?”

“Her parents are coming. She hasn’t seen them
in a really long time, Gabby.”

“So?”

“Besides, I have to work.”

“Liar,” I growled. “You could make it if you
wanted to, Will.”

“We don’t even know if she wants to see
me.”

“What if she does?” I asked. “Will you
come?”

“It’s too soon,” he insisted. “She’s still
healing.”

“Yes or no?” I pressed him.

“I can’t just invite myself, Gabby.”

“Yes or no?”

“Yes. But she has to want me to be there.”
Even as I hung up on the dope, I was rolling my eyes. The guy
really was slow on the uptake when it came to love.

I found Annette in the kitchen, packing
cookies into decorative tins. “Ooh, pretty. Are those going to the
gift shop?”

“They are,” she agreed, slapping a label on
the rim of one, to officially seal it.

“Great. Say, Nettie,” I launched into my
speech, “I was wondering....”

“About what?”

“What do you think about inviting Will up for
a weekend? He could stay at the bed and breakfast.”

“That would be nice,” she agreed. Her eyes
never looked up, so I knew it was better than nice.

“Or we could invite him for Christmas,” I
played the next card in the “Go Fish” deck, hoping to hook her.

“He probably doesn’t want to spend his
Christmas with us,” she said, turning away. “He’ll want to go see
his family.”

“Maybe. Wouldn’t hurt to ask, would it?”

“Oh, I can’t do that,” she told me. “It
wouldn’t be proper. After all, you’re the one who told me I don’t
really have enough experience on the dating scene.”

Me and my big, fat mouth. I heaved a deep
sigh. “How about if I find out whether or not he’s interested?”

“If you think that’s a good idea....”

It took me three more phone conversations
with Will and two more with Nettie to get the arrangements made. It
turned out that Will was actually from Pittsfield, Massachusetts,
and his folks really did want to see him for Christmas. He finally
decided to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with them, and
visit with the Grimm family afterwards. His boss agreed that it
would be helpful if he finished his final report on the case by
interviewing Annette in person, and since she wasn’t about to come
to New York, it would be okay for him to extend his time off to go
to Vermont. Ervina booked him a room at her farm, giving him a
discount. We all figured that it was better to let him put his
money where his mouth was. After all, he was coming as an FBI
agent, wasn’t he? And with any luck, he would be coming back later
as a man in love.

The day before Christmas started out normally
enough. I ran the Quinlans’ labradoodle home after I found him
wandering around on Larkspur Trail. Judy thanked me, saying that he
started chasing a squirrel and forgot to come back. I took a trip
to the elementary school for a school safety presentation. It was
my lucky day. Earl got to wear the giant snowman suit over his
uniform at the assembly in the cafeteria. We discussed ways to
avoid accidents in snow and reminded the kids not to go sledding in
the road. He had the kids screaming in the aisles with his goofy
antics. Earl really is a big hambone.

Just after four, the Latimer Falls Sheriff’s
Department dispatcher had a call about a stranger in the woods over
at Latimer Lake. Marge informed me someone had peeked in Liz
Klarsfeld’s window. I rushed over there, worried that it was
residual blowback from the terrorist incident of last year. After
greeting the mother of three, I followed her into the cabin, where
Liz proceeded to show me the family Christmas tree. She didn’t seem
all that worried about a possible intruder. I admired the
hand-blown glass ornaments, the crystal candy canes, and the shiny
glass balls. She offered me a cup of Christmas cocoa and some
cookies, but I declined.

“Tell me about the incident,” I instructed
her, getting out my little notebook. “What time did all this
happen?”

“About half an hour ago. I saw a flash of red
at the window and when I went to check, I saw the tracks in the
snow, leading into the woods.”

“What else can you tell me?”

“The man was wearing a black jacket and a red
Santa hat.”

“You saw him?”

“Sort of.”

“How tall?” I wondered.

“Hard to say. Maybe six feet. Are you sure
you don’t want a cup of coffee or tea?”

“Positive,” I smiled. “I’ll just go take a
look at those tracks, Liz.”

“Great,” she said, patting me on the shoulder
with encouragement as I headed out the door. Maybe Liz had started
early on the eggnog. I put my mind to finding the trail.

Sure enough, there was a set of size ten boot
prints in the snow that seemed to come from the west shore of
Latimer Lake, right up to that window, and then disappeared into
the woods towards the east. I set out to follow the marks. I had
gone about a hundred yards when my cell phone buzzed. It was the
sheriff.

“What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Rufus asked me.

“In the woods by the Klarsfeld cabin,
following a set of boot prints. We might have a Peeping Tom.”

“Well, why don’t you take off after you
finish up there? Things are fairly quiet around here. I’ve got
Biscuit on patrol tonight. He’ll call you if he needs back-up.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Ho, ho, ho,” he replied, hanging up. My
lucky night. The relatives were coming and I would be home in time
to greet them. I just had to find the intruder quickly and hope I
wouldn’t waste a lot of time booking him.

“Okay, pervert. Make me happy. Show
yourself,” I muttered as I followed the tracks to the water’s edge.
That’s when I saw what looked like a peppermint in a cellophane
wrapper, lying on the snow bank in plain sight. Leaning down, I
scooped it up in my glove. My eye caught sight of another, about
six feet away. “So, you’re a candy freak.”

I found myself collecting peppermints as I
went along the meandering route. The western sky turned orange and
gold as the sun began to fade. Soon it would be dark. I wanted to
kick myself for not bringing my flashlight with me. I decided that
I would spend another five minutes on the case before calling it a
night. Unless Marge had another complaint from a lake resident, it
seemed likely it was just a winter wanderer, looking for shelter.
Or a hunter who wanted to “borrow” someone’s cabin for the holiday.
Maybe he thought the Klarsfeld cabin was unoccupied. I kept going.
That’s when I spotted a giant lollipop sticking out of the
snow.

“What the....” Maybe it was someone’s idea of
a joke. High school kids “redecorating” for the holiday. The trail
of candy led deeper into the woods and daylight was fast
disappearing, but I was intrigued.

I came around a clump of shrubs and caught
sight of a white glow that seemed to come from under the snow. Sure
enough, as I got closer, I could see it was a solar-powered LED
spotlight tucked into a hole. Then there was another, and another,
going even deeper into the woods. Talk about strange. I felt like I
had stumbled on Santa’s secret workshop. What was next? Elves
making toys? Reindeer having a moon dance?

Further on, I could see a break in the tree
line. The night air was brightly illuminated with twinkling lights.
Giant snowflakes danced in the trees. The roof of a red tent
glistened with colorful lights draped over the top. I noticed the
path was marked by large candy cane poles. As I stood in front of
the two-person tent, I noticed there was even a sign.
Welcome to
the North Pole. Wipe your feet.

“Wow, someone’s been busy,” I said aloud. I
spied the marzipan Christmas pig amongst the twinkling lights.
Those chocolate pralines had to be somewhere around here.

“You think so?” asked a seductive male voice
behind me. A pair of familiar hands slipped around my waist and
grabbed me tightly, before slipping into my jeans. I giggled as
those hungry lips nuzzled my neck.

“Absolutely. What kind of nut job would set
up a tent in the woods on one of the coldest nights of the year in
Latimer Falls?”

“Are you saying you don’t like my winter
wonderland, Deputy Grimm?” Sam Hogan whirled me around and wiggled
an eyebrow before giving me a very enthusiastic kiss on the mouth.
I returned the favor.

“On the contrary,” I laughed, coming up for
air. “It’s adorable. Cold, but adorable.”

“Ah, perhaps you would like to join me inside
Santa’s hideaway.” There was the black jacket and the red cap Liz
had described, complete with a white brim and pompom.

“Is that what you would recommend?”

“Oh, definitely. I’ll introduce you to my
down sleeping bag for two.”

“Will that keep me warm?” I wondered. Naughty
Santa. He wasn’t going to be on his own Christmas list this year.
Then again, we could use all that coal in his stocking to stay
warm, couldn’t we?

“It will certainly help.” Those eager,
mischievous hands were occupied, unzipping my jacket even as he
backed me up towards the tent.

“You seem to have thought of everything, Mr.
Claus. But what are we going to do about dinner? We’re likely to
work up an appetite.”

“Not to worry. I brought got candy,” he
grinned, “lots and lots of candy.”

“Ooh, Santa Baby! Merry Christmas to me!” I
shouted with glee as I flung myself into that tent with wild
abandon. “And a Happy New Year, too!”

Sara Barton is the author of the Gabby Grimm
Fairy Tale Mysteries, the Off-the-Books Mysteries, the Bard’s Bed
and Breakfast Mysteries, the Dance with Danger Mysteries, the
Practical Caregiver Capers, the Bodacious Baby Boomer Escapades,
and the new Scarlet Wilson Mysteries. The books are available
through digital retailers such as Amazon, Apple, Barnes &
Noble, B&T, Kobo Books, Smashwords, and Sony.

You can find her blogging about books at
http://sarabartonmysteries.blogspot.com

She Twitters as @bartonmysteries

Her Facebook fan page is
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Drop her an email:
[email protected]