Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 560(@200wpm)___ 448(@250wpm)___ 373(@300wpm)
“I’m good,” he murmured as Lydia’s forward progress faltered. For a very good ho-ho-ho reason.
“Oh… wow,” she said as she looked around at the decor. “You outdid yourself this year.”
“Looks great, doesn’t it.” Candy shut the door. “Takes a while to set up. But I was inspired—plus now that the WSP is shut down, I have time on my hands to do it right.”
The parlor was covered in Christmas, from the tree all tinseled up in the corner, to the Santa statues and nutcrackers, to the collection of themed teddy bears that took up most of the couch. All of the knickknacks and figurines that had been there before had been replaced with ones that were in the holiday spirit, but none of that was the highlight.
A model train track had been laid down on the carpet, the twin stripes of rails running a sweep throughout the room, passing under chair legs, swinging through a couple of tables, and going around the tree. Currently, the locomotive was chugga-chugga-choo-choo’ing by the front of the fireplace, and of course, Santa was the conductor in the bright green engine, and Rudolph was riding on the cherry red caboose, and in between, the open boxcars of presents and real candy were actually pretty damn quaint.
As he knelt to inspect a bridge made of Tootsie Rolls, he said, “I saw this up for sale a couple of weeks ago.”
“I couldn’t resist.”
Daniel glanced over at Lydia. “Candy’s another QVC lover.”
“Oh, that’s right.” His wolven went over and perched on a sofa cushion that was three-quarters teddy bear. “You two have that in common, don’t you.”
“Never pegged him as a shopper,” Candy said with a shrug. “But people surprise you. Now, who wants coffee?”
When they both shook their heads, the woman went over to a recliner, sat down, and shifted a set of needles linked by a pink square of stitching into her lap.
She pointed with the project. “You can move the bears, ya know.”
Lydia smiled awkwardly, like she was anxious to get started but didn’t want to be rude. “I’m okay.”
Daniel likewise sat down amid the sea of teddies, and he did move a couple. Onto his lap, as it turned out—because where else was he going to put them, he thought as he picked up his feet so the train could pass by. As Lydia did the same with her boots, he decided this was a new kind of low-impact aerobics.
“So what we got?” Candy’s hands fell into a sequence of moves that she clearly was well familiar with, the needles making a little clicking sound. “And don’t make it too hard. It’s too early in the day to think too much—”
“I need you to tell me what you know about Thomas Eastwind.”
The woman looked over sharply, her hands freezing in mid-stitch. Something about the way she stopped moving so completely brought into hard focus all that bright red hair, and her Santa’s elves sweater with its silver and gold accents, and her bright green polyester pants. But make no mistake. As those eyes narrowed under all their blue shadow, the calculation in them was about as homey as a shotgun.
“Whattabout him.”
Again, not a question that was looking for an answer—especially one that involved any urging her into making a statement about the man.
“You’ve known him for a long time.” Lydia sat forward. “Haven’t you.”
“Not really.”
Shaking her head, Lydia said softly, “I can’t tell you why this is important. But you’ve got to help me.”
Candy put her knitting aside, stood up, and walked out.
“This is going well,” Daniel muttered as he played with one bear’s ears.
The sounds of rustling in the kitchen percolated out to where they were sitting, a refrigerator door opening and closing, cutlery knocking into a plate, something being poured. When Candy came back, she had apple pie with ice cream on it and a cup of steaming coffee. The mug was orange and black, and shaped like a pumpkin. Clearly a holdover from October’s decor.
As the woman sat down again, Daniel remarked, “So you don’t do Thanksgiving?”
“Nah, that’s for families and I don’t have any really.” She forked up some of the apple pie and put it in her mouth. Then she immediately went to the satellite ice cream scoop for a chaser. “I’m a Christmas girl ’cuz Santa comes to everybody. And just let me eat this in peace first, ’kay? Then we’ll get to the Eastwind shit.”
Maybe they were finally going to get something from somebody, Daniel thought as he lifted his feet up to accommodate the train.
Man, he was tired of wild-goose chases, he mused as he discreetly glanced over his shoulder. Through a gap in the lace curtain, he saw a second of Phalen’s blacked-out SUV sitting at the head of the driveway, on the rural road. The damn thing looked about as subtle as a grenade on a teacup’s saucer.