“Intruder! Police!” She flicked on the lights.
At my feet lay a broken red and green spiral cookie.
“Are you stalking me?” Merrie demanded.
“No,” I said defensively, reaching down to pick up the cookie. “I was walking my dog.”
Merrie crossed her arms. “Really? Your dog. And where is this dog?”
“Er…”
Kringle, who had a nose for food, had hauled himself out of his snowdrift and was ambling across the street.
“There,” I said, pointing, “there is my dog.”
She shook her head. “You were trying to get another look at my tits. Admit it.”
Fuck.
“No. Never. I’m only trying to protect my investment,” I argued. “My insurance will cancel the policy on this building if it comes out that I’m allowing people to live here.”
“I should have just gone to Brody’s cabin and taken an allergy pill,” she muttered.
“Brody?” I snarled.
“Never mind.”
“Tell me,” I demanded as she grabbed her bag.
“No. You’re my cold-hearted landlord who doesn’t care about anyone or anything other than his money. So, what does it matter to you?” She brushed past me and opened the shop door.
Kringle woofed at her and wagged his tail.
I followed her out into the snow.
“Where are you going?”
“None of your freaking business,” she said loudly, reaching out to slam the door behind me.
I fed Kringle the cookie as I watched Merrie disappear down the street into the darkened Christmas market. I rubbed my jaw.
She’s right. You should just mind your own business. Leave it alone. She’s just trying to yank your chain.
But I had to know where she was sleeping.
“Find Merrie,” I whispered to Kringle.
Walking softly down the street, I followed the St. Bernard as he padded through the snow, sniffing.
He probably smells all the cookies on her.
Even I could smell Merrie‘s sugar-and-spice scent.
You’re crazy. You can’t smell her, I argued with myself.
Kringle led me through the Christmas market. After we had been walking fifteen minutes and passed the city hall building for the third time, I realized that the dog had absolutely no fucking idea what he was doing and was just wandering around aimlessly in a circle.
“For fuck’s sake,” I swore. “We’re going home. It’s this holiday; it makes everyone crazy.”
