Chapter One
“Snow Queen,Jack Frost, Old Man Winter,” Jean said as we clomped our way through wet sand toward the cave. Rain sliced sideways, stinging hard despite the all-weather police jackets wewore.
“Uh...the Abominable Snowman. There. That’s four people besides my boyfriend who could grant my wish,Delaney.”
“We are literally at sea level.” I waved toward the Pacific Ocean roaring and churning behind us like some kind of monster with a toothache. “We’re not going to get snow here onChristmas.”
“Not with that attitude we won’t.” My sister Jean Reed. Eternally optimistic. And just a little obsessed withChristmas.
“Don’t ask Hogan to grant you a snow wish,Jean.”
“Just because he’s half-Jinn doesn’t mean he’ll grant wishes willy-nilly. Also, his schedule at the bakery is crazy rightnow.”
She snapped her fingers. “You know who could ask someone to make ithappen?”
“Give itup.”
She ignoredme.
“Whyyoucould ask, Delaney. I bet Jack Frost or Old Man Winter would listen to the amazing Delaney Reed, Ordinary, Oregon’s chief ofPolice.”
I grinned even though she couldn’t see me. I had never known someone more into Christmas than Jean. “As if. You know how Jack gets this time ofyear.”
Sassy was one description. Mob-boss-ish was another. You wouldn’t think being in charge of frosty spangles on car windows would make someone such a militant, sulkydiva.
“Besides, Jack doesn’t live here. And if he did, I’m sure he’d rather not have his town buried in a snowstorm.”
“But it’s almost Christmas,” she whined. “Three days, Delaney. You could send an email. Make an official request. Ooh, make awish.”
I snorted. “One: What are you, a three-year-old? Two: Do you know how manyactualthree-year-olds are wishing for snow fortheirChristmas? Who do you think Jack or Old Man Winter are going to listen to? A twenty-something police officer who should know the reality of weather patterns on the Oregon coast, or little kids who have their hearts set on magic andsnow?”
“We’re all little kids at heart. Plus, I like magic andsnow.”
“Like it somewhere else. We aren’t prepared for snow. Ordinary doesn’t even own a snowplow.”
“You sound likeMyra.”
“Good. Myra acts her age, and like me, saves her wishes for more important things. Unlike our youngest Reedsister.”
We stopped at the mouth of the cave, Jean muttering the wholetime.
“What?”
“Where’s your Christmas spirit? I don’t remember you being this grumpy lastyear.”
“I’m just waiting for Christmas, like a normal person, instead of going all Jingle-bell crazy before the Thanksgiving dishes have even dried like one abnormal person Iknow.”
“Hey, I waited a whole week before Thanksgiving to play my holiday tunes in public. That’s a late start for Christmas music. It’s no fun to wait all the way untilDecember.”
“It’s not about fun, Jean.” I picked my way over the huge rocks that jutted out of thesand.
“It’s about being a police officer who doesn’t wear a Santa hat for six weeksstraight.”
“What’s wrong with wearing a Santahat?”
“Along with a gun? It confusespeople.”
“Don’t hate on my hats just because Ryder’s been gone for twomonths.”
