“That woman leaving the shop last night told me Heathcliff said he was done with Christmas. He’d knocked over the tree an’ everything. So we figured it was okay for us to take it.”
“Why didn’t you wait to ask Heathcliff yourself?”
Earl shrugged. His kitten crawled out from the collar of his coat and sat on his shoulder, glaring at Quoth. “You know Mr. Heathcliff, he doesn’t much like repeating a conversation if he’s already told you once. That an’ he’s been extra grumpy last couple of weeks. I didn’t want to be a bother. I slipped in just after the fella went out, hid in the shadows until she locked up behind her, an’ called out to my boys down the street. We wrestled the tree outside an’ dragged it down here.”
“What about the presents? Don’t tell me you’ve been sharing those around, too?”
Earl shook his head. “We left the presents behind, I swear! Heathcliff never said we could take presents. We may be homeless, Miss Mina, but we don’t steal. An’ we’d never take someone’s Christmas gifts. We know what it’s like to have nothin’ at Christmas.”
Guilt tore at my chest. I was wrong to come here and assume the worst of them. When I saw the tree, I flipped out, but I shouldn’t have accused Earl without getting his side of the story first. “I’m sorry, Earl. I shouldn’t have made assumptions. I think… I’m scared for Heathcliff, and I left that affect my judgment.”
“I’m real sorry, too. We thought it was okay for us to have the tree.” Earl snapped his fingers. “Ratty! Boris! Fatso! Get over here. We gotta take the tree back to the bookshop—”
“No. Don’t worry about it.” I broke into a smile. “Please. I didn’t know about the agreement you had with Heathcliff. You keep the tree. We can easily get another one.”
“But what about these decorations? They must’ve cost a pretty penny.”
You have no idea.“Keep them, too. I think they look awesome twinkling in the firelight.”
“Bless you, Miss Mina.” Earl held one of my hands to his chapped lips and kissed my fingers. “You’re our Christmas angel.”
I didn’t feel like a Christmas angel. I felt like complete shit. And we were no closer to figuring out who’d taken the charity gifts. Quoth settled on my shoulder as we trudged along the platform. With trembling fingers, I pulled out my mobile phone and punched in the number of the Kings Copse Wood Christmas Tree Farm.
“Hi, it’s Mina Wilde from Nevermore Bookshop. I’d like to order another Christmas tree if you’ve got any left. Our one was stolen—”
“I’m not selling you another tree just so that rotten Heathcliff can steal it again,” the woman on the other end screeched. “Those gifts were for the animals. You should be ashamed of yourselves! Why, I ought to report you to the police for—”
I hung up the phone. Quoth nuzzled my cheek – his feathers soft and warm against my cold skin.You have to consider this a victory,he said.We’ve found the tree. We have a definite timeline. That’s one step closer to identifying our thief.
“Are you saying you’re starting to suspect Heathcliff isn’t responsible?” I pushed open the shop door, kicked off my boots, and headed for the staircase.
I think if Heathcliff offered our tree to Earl and his friends so they could have a nice Christmas, then he probably didn’t steal gifts meant for the animal shelter.
“I’m glad you think so.” I patted Quoth’s head. “We’ve got to remember that we’ve done this to him before. We assume he’s being selfish, but really he’s just holding his feelings close to his chest. I bet if we—”
I stopped short, my breath catching in my throat.
No.
It can’t be.
But there was no mistaking what I saw. Heathcliff stood in the middle of the living room, trying to shove a large gift-wrapped box into the TV cabinet. There were two smaller presents scattered at his feet, all wrapped in my mother’s expensive Bedazzled Bethlehem papers. The look on his face when he saw us was pure guilt and thunder.
Heathcliff did it. He stole the gifts.
Chapter Thirteen
“Go away,” he growled. “You can’t see me like this.”
“Heathcliff, what’s that package?” I pointed at the box. “That’s my mother’s wrapping paper – the designs she sold to people for the charity tree.”
“It’s not.”
“It is! And why do you have these gifts?” I bent down to pick up one of the smaller boxes, but Heathcliff snatched it from my hands. “You don’t give presents at Christmas, so I know these aren’t yours. Why are you hiding them?”
In response, Heathcliff glared at me in stony silence.
“We’re out there trying to prove your innocence and…” My hands balled into fists. “I can’t believe you really did it.”
