Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m inyourroom. You didn’t have to let me stay in it. So ... thanks, or whatever. Just stay on your cot and don’t touch my things.”
“I think I can manage that,” Maggie said with a smile. She took a strawberry and sat on the edge of her cot. “So it’s just you and your dad?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said reluctantly. “Mom—we lost Mom a really long time ago.”
No wonder she was so protective of her mom’s necklace. Maggie could still glimpse a sparkle at Charlie’s neck when she moved her head, a thin line of glitter vanishing beneath the collar of the pajamas, and wondered if she ever took it off. Strangely enough, the backstory appeared to dim her bird’s ardor for it. She had never felt less like stealing anything in her life.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I lost my parents a long time ago, too.” In more ways than one.
“We’re not bonding,” Charlie said hastily. She took another bite of the burger.
“No, definitely not,” Maggie said, suppressing a smile.
After another bite, Charlie said, “I feel weird eating in front of you without offering you anything. Do you, uh—want some fries?”
“I’ll take a couple,” Maggie allowed. The lodge made good fries, fat and crisp and dusted in salt and parmesan. She took one. “But I’m not that hungry. I think I’m just going to lie here and read for a while, and then sleep. You don’t have to turn the light off until you’re ready. I can fall asleep just about anywhere.”
“Okay,” Charlie said. Grabbing a handful of fries, she tucked up her knees under the blanket and picked up her phone. “I’m gonna text Dad.”
“That sounds like a good idea.” For Charlie’s sake as well as her own, Maggie firmly did not speculate on where Sam was spending the night, what he was doing right now, what he was wearing ... “Good night, Charlotte.”
SAM
Sam foundthe generator shed more comfortable than he expected from the name, and a lot more private than sleeping on a married couple’s bedroom floor, however accommodating they might be. It was as much workshop as generator housing, an open, heated space, with the emergency generator in its own room off the main concrete-floored shop. Mauro had provided linens and an air mattress, along with further apologies which Sam brushed off. He had done a tour in the military as a young man, and between that and his years operating a private detective agency, he had certainly slept in worse places.
He woke slightly disoriented in the dark, and when he opened the door, he found that it was still very early, with the Christmas lights gleaming and only a faint trace of light in the sky. Snow had fallen in the night; there was a fresh white blanket covering the trees and cars.
Good thing we’re not going anywhere for a few days.By then the plows should have the roads back in good shape, assuming they didn’t get even more snow.
He left his things tucked under a workbench for the moment, put on his coat, and made his way to the lodge, trying and failing not to fill up his hiking shoes with fresh snow. Maybe he couldbeg a pair of spare boots off Mauro; it looked like their feet might be close enough to the same size. He caught a glimpse of Mauro snowblowing the walks around the lodge, but the man seemed busy, so Sam decided not to bother him.
The lobby was very quiet, the dining area not yet open for breakfast. Sam texted Charlie. She didn’t answer, but he figured she probably wasn’t awake yet; she often slept in as late as he’d let her. She had checked in with him as requested the previous evening, until letting him know she was ready to sleep.
In spite of the inevitable clashes that went with raising a spirited teenager, she was a good kid. He hoped this weekend would be fun for her.
There was a coffee machine in the lobby, and Sam fixed himself a cup and wandered around, looking at things. The Christmas tree held his interest for a moment, and then he went to look at the charity auction items.
Each item had a number and an associated sheet of paper for guests to write their bids with the provided pencils. There was a variety of different stuff. He’d only glanced at it earlier, but now he wondered if he ought to bid on anything in here for Charlie. They had exchanged gifts back at home, and he had a small present for her in his bag, but something unexpected might be nice. He looked for something she might like. There were a few different book-related items (a collection of romance novels; some books of winter poetry; a pile of YA adventure novels), as well as holiday gift baskets, sweet treats, and similar things. Jewelry was on display as well, inexpensive pieces from local artists. Sam took a careful look at those, just to make sure he knew what was there in case Maggie—well, in case of Maggie.
He really didn’t think she was going to steal anything, though. Fawkes said she seemed very sincere in her efforts to go straight. She had been seeing a therapist to deal with her kleptomania, and had tried to return everything to everyone thatshe could, even sold her car and some of her other belongings to pay for the pieces she no longer had.
And she was here at the lodge this weekend because she wanted to physically work off her debt to them.
She deserved to be trusted, not treated like a criminal, Sam thought.
He wrote down bids for a few things, leaving his room number in lieu of a name, as many of the other guests had done. A few of the bid sheets and numbers seemed to be associated with blank spaces on the tables. Items that Mauro and Hester had removed for safekeeping, perhaps?
“Good morning,” Hester said, coming up to him with a cup of coffee. Her reindeer antlers were jaunty on top of her head this morning. “Mauro says he put you down for the night in the generator house. I am so sorry about the mix-up.”
“It’s fine. It worked out well enough.” An immediate image of a naked Maggie floated through his head, followed by his stallion emphatically insisting on bringing her hay and oats in bed.
I don’t think she’d appreciate any part of that. Cut it out.
“Oh, are you bidding?” Hester asked. “Let me know if you have questions about anything. The auction benefits the food bank, so it’s all for a good cause.”
“Actually, I did have a question.” Sam gestured to one of the empty spaces. “Are there some items that aren’t out yet?”
“What?” Hester’s head whipped around. She frowned. “No, there should be items in those places. I wonder if Mauro moved something? I wonder if ...”
