“Like Betty Ranulfson missing her ruby necklace and earbobs. Or Mr. Fletcher reporting three crates of goods stolen from his warehouse.”
“Did that happen last night? When the men were locked up?”
“The jewelry’s been gone for over a month, but as for the warehouse burglary, I don’t know. It happened within the past several days, but Fletcher only noticed this morning.”
Thomas shifted, then leaned forward in his chair. “What about that man who claimed to be looking for his young’uns? Do you believe him?”
Isaac swallowed. If he thought hard enough, he could still recall the feel of little Toby sitting on his lap during Sunday dinner. The toddler had eaten all but two bites of Isaac’s pie. “Since there’s three children staying with my brother with a story that matches the one O’Byrne gave last night, I’ve got no choice but to believe him. Besides, the oldest boy is twelve, he’ll be able to tell us if the man is lying or not.”
Thomas shook his head. “But why try roughing you up instead of asking for your help?”
Isaac shrugged, his heart lodged in his throat. Why, indeed?
But no matter how many questions he and Thomas could conjure up, none of them changed the plain fact that he needed to find Elijah before the day was over.
“Do it again, Mr. Elijah. Do it again!” Toby squealed and threw a handful of snow Elijah’s direction before turning and running as fast as his stubby little legs would carry him.
“Don’t forget me,” another young voice called.
Elijah swung toward Claire, Thomas and Jessalyn’s middle daughter, his chest heaving with exertion. From the top of thehill, Jack and Colin, Mac’s stepson, let out a whoop before jumping into their sleds and racing each other to the bottom.
“Yes, Elijah,” Mac hollered from where he stood several feet away surveying the chaos. “Don’t forget Claire.”
“No, get me instead!” This from Mac’s oldest daughter, Jane, who sprinted after Toby.
Elijah drew another breath into his burning lungs and took off after Jane. The womenfolk were at the lighthouse visiting this afternoon while the men took everyone sledding after school. But after walking up the hill twice, the littlest children had been exhausted and begged to be carried. Playing snow monster had seemed easier than dragging young’uns and sleds up the hill.
Or so he’d thought. Suddenly trudging up the snowy slope with Toby on his shoulders didn’t seem nearly as difficult as chasing children.
He had to credit Thomas Dowrick, though. The man was faithfully slogging up the hill with Megan and Olivia for what was probably the thirtieth time that afternoon, and he didn’t even seem winded. During the week he’d been in town, the man had certainly gotten to know his daughters. They’d lavished their father with squeals and hugs and kisses when Thomas arrived in the schoolyard, then argued over whose sled he would ride on first.
Elijah ran a few more steps, then lunged for both Jane and Claire, who were standing together waiting for him to catch up. His fingers found Claire first, and he hoisted her up into the air, then caught her amidst a fit of giggles and dropped her into the snow.
“Me snow monster. Me hungry. Um num num num num.” He made a chomping sound as he pretended to eat Claire’s arm. She curled against the snow and laughed so hard tears leaked from her eyes.
“My turn, Mr. Elijah,” Toby called from halfway up the hill. “Come get me!”
Halfway up the hill? That wasn’t going to happen.
“No, me!” Jane shouted.
His chest still heaving, he headed toward the closer child.
“Elijah.”
At the sound of Isaac’s voice, he slowed.
His brother headed over the snowy field toward them, a slumped set to his shoulders. “Do you have a few minutes?”
As long as it didn’t involve chasing children. “Sure.” He slung a hand on his hip and waited for his brother to come to him, his chest still laboring for breath. “Want to play snow monster?”
Isaac muttered something about another kind of monster, then blew out a breath. “Last night, there was an… incident, and afterward one of the men involved?—”
“Sheriff! Sheriff, I need to speak with you.”
Elijah looked up to find a squat, balding man that was nearly as round as he was tall hurrying over the snow toward them.
Isaac’s gaze darted to the man, and his face went pale. “I’m so sorry, Elijah. I didn’t realize he was following me.”
