Page 103 of The Mistletoe Mix-up

“Okay, Ivan, what is the money that he owes you?”

“I came in here and bought stuff from a guy in the back, and it turned out to be nothing,” Ivan said, his gun hand shaking as he pointed it at Quint. “He slipped me a placebo or something, and I want my money back.”

Quint shook his head. “I’ve tried to tell him we don’t sell anything here—”

“The guy who sold you the drugs, what did he look like?” Wren asked, giving Quint a stern look. The last thing she needed was Quint aggravating Ivan and getting accidentally shot.

Ivan’s eyes squinted like he was trying to remember. “Bald, with a tattoo of an eagle on his throat.”

Wren glanced at Quinton, addressing him, but keeping Ivan in her purview. “Do you know anyone who fits that description?”

Quint nodded, his jaw clenched. “I know him.”

“I’ll get that information from you later.” She turned back to Ivan. “I’m going to find the man who took your money, and we are going to charge him, but I need you to put down the gun and let these people go. They’re not involved.”

“I need the money,” he said, almost in tears, and Wren realized he was coming down hard from something. Withdrawal could make someone do terrible things.

“I know you do, but right now I think we need to get you some treatment, and then we will take care of the rest.” Wren held her hand out to him. “Okay, can you hand me the gun?”

Ivan’s wide eyes slicked between her and Quint, and in that moment’s hesitation, she froze. If he didn’t drop the gun and swung it toward her, would she be fast enough to get out of the bullet’s way? Would she be able to pull hers if he aimed for Quint? Would they know to contact Sam and tell him she was hurt?

Her chest seized, thinking of everything the two of them had left to do. She didn’t want to lose him.

Finally, Ivan let the gun swing barrel down and handed it to her.

“It’s not real,” he said softly. “It’s a water gun. I took it from my nephew.”

Wren opened the top, and sure enough, there was water inside. She almost let out a hysterical giggle, but she was afraid if she let loose, she might weep instead.

Wren spotted Barret in the shadows by the stage and called out to him.

“Barret, it’s clear.” She read Ivan his rights, and as she put the cuffs on him, she glanced over at the bar owner. “I’m gonna need that name.”

“I’ll get it for you,” he said grimly. “I don’t want anyone doing that in my bar.”

“Good to know.”

As Wren helped Ivan out to the car, she realized that she had put herself, unarmed, in a situation that could’ve become deadly. As much as Mistletoe was a quieter pace than all the other cities she’d worked in, there was no guarantee that dangerous situations wouldn’t find their way here.

“Hey, Barret, do me a favor,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t tell Sam about this.”

“Your secret is safe with me.”

Chapter Thirty-two

Last night, Sam had noticed Wren was quiet when she got off work, and they swung by the Winters’ to spend Christmas Eve with Jace and Clark. They woke up early this morning and got dressed to spend Christmas Day with Wren’s family. He had no idea when she had had time to go gather up gifts, but as she placed them into the car, he stalled her with a hand on her shoulder.

“Are you okay?” he asked, staring into her dark eyes for any sign of what might be going through her head, but she just smiled brightly.

“Sure, I’m fine. Why?”

“You just seem a little distant today.”

She shrugged, her tone cheery as she said, “No, I just have a lot on my mind, is all.”