Page 8 of This Christmas

He skimmed through docket summaries, case numbers, and settlements. Most of the cases brought against her by her ex had been dismissed outright. Two of them were still pending. All in all, the only thing Ally had won was full custody of Charlotte. There were mentions of CPS getting involved and monitoring Ted’s visitations with his daughter, but no specifics.

Two of the lawsuits from Ted were his fight for full custody, which had been denied again and again. In the latest one, though, Ted was spinning the story that Ally had “alienated” Charlotte from him. The court had already ordered that he be on monitored visits only, once every three months. That detail made Joe’s brow furrow. Supervised visits weren’t handed down lightly. But the why was sealed tight. He’d need a judge’s clearance to look at the sealed files, or someone like Clay to crack into them.

Why they were sealed was another mystery. Obviously, Ted had had a hand in that.

The newest lawsuit made Joe snort and almost spit out the warm cup of hotel coffee he was drinking. Ted was suing Ally for a million dollars. He claimed that Ally had caused “emotional distress and reputational harm, which had caused him several health issues.” He had listed these as migraines, heart palpitations, kidney problems, and erectile disfunction. The reputational harm claim said that she was running a smear campaign that was damaging his work position.

He knew for a fact that the man had bragged on one of the interviews last week about being in peak health. They had even shot the video at the local gym, where he was shown playing basketball with a bunch of at-risk teenagers.

Joe dug deeper, trying to find any evidence that the woman had besmirched her husband’s name anywhere. There were no newspaper mentions or any online chatter from Ally, not even a social media account. There was nothing. It didn’t appear that Ally had ever even have had a Facebook account.

He rubbed the back of his neck. He’d gotten into her email weeks ago—easy enough when Ted handed over the right breadcrumbs—but the only thing in her inbox were exchanges with her attorney. Updates on filings. Legal strategy. Not a single personal message, not even spam newsletters from shopping sprees or bank accounts.

If Ally was waging a smear campaign against her ex, she was the quietest smear artist he’d ever seen.

Joe leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

Fourteen lawsuits. A DA with money and clout to burn. And a woman who seemed to do nothing but raise her kid, pay her brother back for his lawyer, and try to stay invisible.

Something didn’t add up.

The morning in Pride broke gray and misty, the kind of coastal damp that seeped into your bones, whether you invited it or not. Joe pulled his jacket more tightly around his shoulders as he pushed open the glass door of Sara’s Nook, the small-town bakery that seemed to be the only place open before six. The bell above the door jingled, and the warm scent of cinnamon rolls and strong coffee hit him like a punch of nostalgia.

The place was already buzzing as locals crowded the tables, sipping from steaming mugs and flipping through newspapers. The counter girl gave him a smile that was all habit, then slid a menu toward him. He didn’t need it. He ordered coffee, black, and whatever breakfast sandwich they had.

He moved over and took a seat near the window, his back to the wall, an old habit. He stirred the coffee when it came, letting the chatter of the room wash over him.

Finally, he heard what he was waiting for.

“…Ally Wilson,” one woman’s voice carried from the booth near the counter. “You know, Max’s sister. She’s back in town. She’s staying at the lighthouse for a couple months, watching the place for him and Juliette.”

Joe’s hand stilled on the mug.

Another older male voice chimed in, low and gravelly sounding. “It’s about time she escaped that bastard of an ex. The poor girl’s been through hell, or so I hear. That little girl deserves a happy life. Both of them.”

“The horrors they had to endure,” the woman whispered back. “I heard plenty from Leslie Wilson last time she came to visit. Though she wasn’t forthcoming with all the details. I can’t imagine what she’s been living with all these years, still fighting a man with such power and money.”

Joe kept his face neutral and his eyes fixed on the condensation trailing down the bakery window.

When his biscuit sandwich came and the first bite melted in his mouth, he instantly wished he’d ordered two. How did such a small town have such good food?

The front door chimed again, and Joe’s gaze jerked up out of instinct. A young couple walked in. The woman was petite with sandy brown hair and the same features as Ally, though she was a few years younger. Her hand was tucked into the arm of a tall, brown-haired man.

They were obviously Faye and Nate Elliott.

This was Max and Ally’s youngest sister.

Faye was married to Max’s wife’s younger brother Nate.

He could tell that they were locals to the core, as they were greeted by half the people in the bakery. It was a scene straight out of the show Cheers.

Luckily, they ended up sliding into the booth directly in front of him. Leaning back in the booth, he lowered his head and pretended to be focused on his phone as he let their voices flow over them.

“She looks too thin,” Faye was murmuring. He could hear the slight oddity in her voice and remembered reading about her hearing loss. For most of Faye’s life, she’d been deaf. Then she’d had surgery, an implant. If he hadn’t known, he wouldn’t have noticed the slight speech peculiarity. “I don’t think she’s sleeping at all. Not really.”

“She’s holding up better than I thought she would be,” Nate replied. “But yeah, she’s running herself into the ground. The latest lawsuit is eating at her, not to mention the move. And job hunting can’t be easy in this small of a town. It’s too bad that she’s too proud to come work for us.”

Joe shifted slightly as his muscles tightened, so he reached for his coffee.