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Bright Lights, Big Christmas(31)

Author:Mary Kay Andrews

“Of course. Great job today, Vic. Don’t know what I would have done without you.”

He grinned and pointed to his jacket’s pockets, bulging with tip money. “Are you kidding? I made bank today!”

“Maybe just one more favor?” she asked. “Can you run down to the hardware store and bring me back a load of firewood? This Southern girl is about to freeze to death out here.”

* * *

The afternoon was as slow as the morning was harried. Kerry took Queenie for a quick walk to Anna’s for a sandwich and some coffee.

She fetched her sketchbook from the trailer and resumed doodling with a sketch of a saucy Westie she’d spotted down the block. She drew him wearing a handsome plaid jacket that matched his owner’s, a woman she recognized from the Kaplans’ building.

“Hi, Kerry.” Austin raced to her side. He was bundled up in a thick puffer jacket, snow boots, mittens, and a green-and-red-striped ski cap.

“Can we work on our story now? My dad said it doesn’t look like you’re too busy right now.”

She handed him the sketchbook. “Where were we?”

He flipped through the pages. “Here,” he said, stabbing his finger on the page with the elaborate gate and the secret forest. “I think what happens next is, the bad guys figure out how to get into the forest, to steal the trees.”

Kerry glanced across the street, where one of the Brody brothers was standing in the street, flipping his CHEAP TREES sign around like a majorette’s baton.

“What if,” she said, musing out loud, “we made the bad guys brothers?”

“Yeah!” Austin said.

Suddenly, Patrick was on the sidewalk, directly behind her. He placed his hands on her shoulders and gave them a slight squeeze in greeting.

“What did those two do now?” he asked, gesturing at the Brodys.

“Pretty sure they stole Murphy’s bike and trailer last night,” she said.

“Here comes Mr. Heinz,” Austin announced, pointing at the elderly man, who was walking slowly toward them.

He made his way into the stand and nodded a hello to Patrick and Kerry.

“Well, look who’s here today,” Heinz said. “I’ve missed seeing you this week, young man. Any new ideas for our story?”

“Yeah. The bad guys are brothers, cuz they stole Murphy’s bike,” Austin said indignantly.

“Really?” Heinz held out his hand for a pencil.

He turned to a blank page in the sketchbook. His gnarled fingers clutched the pencil, and it flew over the paper. In the blink of an eye, he’d drawn two menacing figures, black clad, crouched in front of the merest suggestion of the gate Kerry had drawn, and peeking furtively in at the forest beyond.

“That’s them,” Austin said, nodding vigorously. “But what are their names?”

“Malvolio and Iago,” Heinz suggested.

“Those are funny names,” Austin said, wrinkling his nose.

“Two of Shakespeare’s most despicable villains,” the old man informed him. “Unfortunately, you’re correct. Those names are hardly familiar to young people these days.”

“Sad but true,” Patrick agreed.

“I know. Gordy and Payton,” Austin said. “Those are the two worst kids in first grade.”

“What makes these children so bad?” Heinz asked.

“Well. Gordy is a biter, and Payton sits behind me and kicks my desk when the teacher isn’t looking,” the boy reported.

“Looks like we have our villains,” Kerry agreed. “Nobody likes a biter. Now. How do they manage to sneak into the forest?”

“I think they should parachute in out of a helicopter,” Patrick said. “And then maybe throw in some smoke grenades.”

“Daaad.” Austin rolled his eyes. “Isn’t that what happens in those movies Mom won’t let me watch?”

Kerry got up and walked to the front of the trailer, where she’d just noticed something she’d overlooked earlier in the day. It was the chain Murphy used to secure his bike and trailer.

“I think they used bolt cutters,” she said, showing the men the chain.

chapter 31

Patrick extended his hand. “May I?”

She handed him the bike chain. He turned it over and over, then handed it back, his expression troubled. “When did this happen?”

“Last night. Sometime after I fell asleep. I think those two creeps across the street probably saw Murphy loading his stuff into the truck and saw their chance to mess with us.”

“Where did Murphy go?” he asked.

“He’s making a run back to the farm to pick up another load of trees.”

Patrick cursed under his breath. “That’s pretty bold, coming over here, with you asleep only a few inches away. Queenie didn’t raise the alarm?”

“No. We were both dead tired.”

“This is terrible,” Heinz said, tsk-tsking. “Does your brother know?”

“I called him a little while ago. He’s furious, of course, but he said it’s a waste of time to call the cops. He should be back late tonight or in the morning.”

Kerry shivered, stood, and went over to the fire barrel to throw on another log. Sparks rose into the chilly air. The reality of having thieves standing right outside the trailer the previous night while she was sleeping was just starting to sink in.

“I don’t like the idea of you staying here alone tonight,” Patrick said. “Maybe you should stay at our place until Murphy gets back. I can bunk in with Austin and you can have my room.”

“Yeah,” Austin said, hopping up and down with excitement. “A sleepover.”

The idea of sleeping in an actual bed, with working heat, in close proximity to a hot shower, with a bonus of being close to a hot man, namely Patrick, was oh so tempting.

“I can’t just abandon my post. What if they come back, to take something else, or do something worse? Besides, I’m not gonna let those two goons scare me away. I’m not just some sweet, shrinking magnolia. I’m from the mountains.”

She ran to the trailer and came back, brandishing the baseball bat, then stalked over to the edge of the sidewalk and, addressing the Brody brothers, shouted loud enough to be heard over the sound of the passing traffic. “I’ve got my daddy’s baseball bat, and I’m not afraid to use it.” She sliced the air two or three times in what she felt was a distinctly menacing fashion.

The skinnier brother’s response was lewd and direct, followed by a loud braying laugh.

“Y’all really don’t know who you’re messing with,” she yelled, then turned her back and walked away.

“I would not mess with you,” Heinz said, and he and Patrick laughed together, breaking the tension of the moment.

“I bet they’re mad because you sold more trees than they did,” Austin said.

“Probably so,” Kerry said.

“Mr. Heinz,” Austin said, looking up at the old man. “Did you buy your Christmas tree yet?”

“Oh no,” Heinz said. “I have a very small apartment, and live alone, so there’s really no need to indulge in such foolishness.”

Before the child could reason with him, he rose slowly and tipped his hat; a black wool Borsalino, with a tiny feather tucked into the band. He glanced down at his watch. It was thick and gold and looked like a fine antique to Kerry’s unschooled eye.

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