Chapter Six
Tom helped Summer into his truck and tried not to grin. The woman had secrets. The Slade’s bags in the closet said so. What would those secrets produce? He’d leave his natural guessing tendency locked tight and let whatever she was doing play out. He wouldn’t ruin it for her.
Dressed in a blue sweater and black tight jeans, she’d pulled back her dark hair into an elaborate braid. Her light floral scent floated across his senses. He couldn’t help taking a second breath of his favorite scent which led to touching her to help her settle in the seat.
She had her red Echo Falls research folder tucked under her black jacket to protect it from the drizzle falling from the sky. He hurried around to his side. He'd changed from uniform to jeans and a blue plaid shirt and couldn’t wait for his grandmother’s cooking.
“How was shopping?” Tom glanced at Mrs. Patch’s decorations and vowed to get front porch railing lights on tomorrow.
Summer lifted her folder from underneath the jacket and smoothed it in her lap. “Ran into your mother. She says so far she hasn’t had any negative response to my mural idea. And Slade’s was busy.”
Tom backed out of the driveway and went the shortest route to his grandmother’s. “Santa missing isn’t hurting his sales?”
“Didn’t seem so. Any news on Santa?”
“He visited the Applegate Pumpkin Market today. Chad had a few things to say about the incident. Haven’t heard from Mia.”
“These kids took him out to the pumpkin farm?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Pumpkin farm is a big draw for people around here, but more likely for social media attention. I’ll have to ask Mia later.” He rolled his eyes, wondering when he’d slid into Mia’s camp.
“Smart idea. Get any ideas from the photo?”
“Nope. I recognize the spot. On the bench by the storefront. Dark. So middle of the night hours. Bret found footprints so we’ve got the route they took on and off the farm. Didn’t touch anything else. Caption was interesting this time.”
“Which was?”
“Even pumpkins know Santa belongs to the town.”
Summer twisted in her seat to gaze at him, puzzlement in her expression. “They are following Slade and Clem’s blowups.”
“Pretty much. They had another tiff this morning. Fortunately, Lopez is back to work, and he got the call. He wasn’t happy with either man and gave them a stern directive. I talked to my grandmother about casually chatting with both of them, too.”
“Good idea, although Slade does have a reason for being upset. The Santa section is really empty.” Summer slid a hand over his thigh and rubbed, easing work tension.
“Someone put a memorial grouping of flowers in his spot. Chief Hudson was not amused and made Slade remove them.”
“A what?”
“Flowers, like a memorial because somebody died.”
Summer grimaced. “Oh, that’s over the top.”
“Chief thought so, too.”
“Kids again?”
Tom huffed in exasperation. “Time will tell.” Parking at the curb in front of his grandmother’s, he marveled at her beautiful decorations – his grandmother’s tradition. Everything twinkled including the Christmas tree in the window, the lights on the eaves, and the reindeer in the yard. Chad’s truck was here, so was Bret’s. Most of the family for dinner was a treat.
The rain shimmered to a stop, but it wouldn’t last. He exited, recognized the deep silence as a portend for something worse, and hustled Summer to the porch.
Just in time.
A crack of lightning and a downpour replaced the sprinkle. Normally, he would follow the porch to the back door, but not tonight. He pulled open the screen and twisted the old-fashioned knob. The door always dragged in wet weather, but tonight it popped open like the air pressure was pushing it.
