The Christmas Tree Page 23

  “Well, Deborah thought, and I agreed, that we couldn’t just steal Clarion’s tree decorations. Phyllis would get suspicious. So—”

  “You stole a lot of stuff in different towns to throw her off.” Sadie whistled. “That’s rather ingenious.”

  Mrs. Garcia leaned forward. “Yes, and we even got a new battery for my Sergio’s minivan so no one would recognize us. It hasn’t been driven in fifteen years. We thought of everything.”

  Sadie slowly nodded her head. “That was good planning.”

  “Don’t encourage them,” he said. “It was criminal behavior, and over a competition that isn’t even real. The two of them need . . .” A black-and-white cruiser silently pulled up to the curb, its blue and red lights giving the area a sickly glow.

  Sadie frowned. “That can’t be Jerome already. Did you call 911?”

  “I haven’t called anyone. Someone else must have reported suspicious activity,” he said. The patrol officer ambled toward them and the two old ladies quivered on their feet. Colt sighed and held up his phone again. “But I’m going to call Jerome now and see if he can help us out.” He lifted his other hand and Sadie’s finger came along for the ride. His face heated up. “Sorry,” he muttered and released her finger.

  “Good evening. What’s going on here?” the officer asked, his hand resting on the butt of his gun.

  Sadie strode forward, giving Colt time to relay to Jerome what was going on and where they were. “Ladies, perhaps you should wait to speak to an attorney before you talk to the police,” she said.

  The cop focused on the older women. “Why? What is it exactly that you’ve done to need a lawyer?” He eyed the ladder and the large shopping bag at the base of the tree, an ornament peeping out from the top of it. “Stealing Christmas decorations, perhaps?”

  “Officer, they have the right to remain silent—”

  “It’s all right, Miss Wilson,” Miss Shaw interrupted. “We understood there were risks involved.” She reached over and took her friend’s hand. “You’ve caught us. We’re the Christmas thieves.”

  Colt ended his call and stepped forward. The cop’s eyes flicked to him. “And how are you two involved?” he asked, pointing his finger from Sadie to Colt.

  “They aren’t involved at all,” Mrs. Garcia said, her voice firm. “It was only Eugenie and me.”

  “Officer, I’m Colt McCoy from Pineville. I know these two women and from what it sounds like, they intended to return what they’d taken. I’m sure you don’t want to have to handcuff two old ladies—”

  “Who are you calling old?” Mrs. Garcia demanded. She put her hands on her round hips, eyes narrowed in outrage.

  “. . . mature women, especially just days before Christmas. There have also been some thefts—”

  Sadie elbowed his side.

  “. . . er, borrowings in Pineville, and I’ve called a friend on the force there. He should be here soon and perhaps we can work something out.”

  “Who’s this friend?” the officer asked.

  “Jerome Davis.”

  The cop’s face brightened. “You know Jerome? He’s in my bowling league.” He pulled a notepad out of his breast pocket. “Why don’t I get everyone’s information while we wait for Jerome to show up? I’m afraid they’re going to have to be booked, but maybe I can talk to the chief. He has some pull with the DA.”

  Mrs. Garcia leaned over to Miss Shaw. “Did you hear that? We’re going to be booked. It’s just like an episode of Law and Order.”

  “But we’re the ones getting arrested. This is not a good thing,” Miss Shaw stage-whispered back.

  “Oh, lighten up. It’s a new experience. We can blog about it.”

  Colt rolled his eyes. These two were anything but stealthy. How had they managed to get away with their exploits for so long?

  Ten minutes later Jerome pulled up in his cruiser. Judge Nichols emerged from the passenger seat, his appearance causing Miss Eugenie to hang her head, her face glowing pink under the streetlight. Jerome strode over and shook the other cop’s hand. The judge joined the two men in conversation.

  “What do you think they’re going to do to them?” Sadie asked, her voice husky. She cleared her throat.

  A tingle raced down Colt’s spine at her voice. He remembered the last time she had sounded like that.

  The judge stood with his hands clasped behind his back, lips pursed, watching the two women with a speculative glint in his eye. Colt’s lips tugged upward. “If I had to guess, I’d bet that Judge Nichols will give them some creative community service.” He smiled at Sadie. “That seems to be his specialty.”

  Her answering grin slowly faded. Clearing her throat again, she said, “I wanted to talk about—”

  “Excuse me, Sadie.” Jerome walked up to them. “We’re all curious as to what the two of you are doing here. It seems a big coincidence that you would just happen to be here of all places when the tree twins were arrested.”

  The judge joined them, a bright red scarf wound around his neck and up to his chin. “Yes, we’re very interested in how you two ended up here. Together.”

  The older man’s blue eyes twinkled and Colt frowned at the innuendo. “Sadie thought she spotted the car that she and Allison had seen in the alley, so we followed it.” Colt shrugged. “That’s it.”

  “Oh, I think there’s probably more to it than that. After all, things happen for a reason. Car accidents, community service sentences, all those things can have meaning.” Judge Nichols rocked back on his heels. “We just have to make the most out of the opportunities given to us.”

  Colt’s throat closed up. Why in the hell did this whole town insist on trying to get him and Sadie together, on making her destruction of his brother’s truck into the beginning of some sappy love story? It just made the reality of her rejection that much harder to stomach.

  “That’s a nice thought,” he told the judge, “but in my experience that’s not the way things work.” He gazed down at the top of Sadie’s head, her blond hair shimmering softly in the dim light. From recent events, he knew life didn’t work that way.

  Her eyes snapped up, unreadable dark blue pools, and she wrapped her arms around her waist. “Well, we made the most out of spotting their car. We caught the Christmas thieves, after all,” she said. A smile tried to stretch her lips but gave up halfway through the attempt. She obviously wasn’t happy standing next to him, either. She looked cold and miserable and beautiful. Every time she moved, the scent of her damn shampoo hit his nose. It was a constant struggle not to bury his face in her hair, get wrapped up in her scent, beg her to take him back.

  He was sure that wouldn’t be on her to-do list for the day.

  Jerome shook his head. “Chasing down criminals? I might have expected it from this guy, but I thought you had more sense, Sadie.”

  “Hey, I was the voice of reason in the car,” Colt exclaimed. “Speaking of, have you heard the reasoning behind these masterminds’ crime spree?”

  “We haven’t gotten to the whys yet.” Jerome glanced at the Christmas thieves, who were giving their statements to the other officer.

  Miss Eugenie peeked at Judge Nichols, dipped her chin down toward her chest.

  “And what about that other matter we discussed?” Colt asked.

  Jerome shook his head and darted a glance at Sadie. “Sorry. The judge didn’t know anything about it, and I haven’t spoken to the mayor yet.” He checked his watch. “We don’t need you guys to stick around if you want to get going. It’s only about two hours until the tree lighting, and I’m sure you want to get a good spot.”

  “Okay,” Sadie said. “You want to head out, Colt?”

  More time stuck in a car with a woman he couldn’t have? He wasn’t a masochist. “I’ll catch a ride back with Jerome. That okay?” he asked his friend.

  Jerome nodded. “No problem.”

  “You go on,” Colt told Sadie, and started to walk away.

  “Wait!” She dug her fingers into hi
s sleeve.

  Everyone stilled, fixed their eyes on Sadie.

  “What is it?” he growled. At this point, he really just needed some distance from her.

  Her eyes darted from person to person, and she audibly swallowed. “Uh . . . I was hoping to talk to you in private.” Pressing her hands flat to her stomach, she took a deep breath. “But maybe this is better. It’s probably public knowledge by now that I accused you of something horrible, so my apology should be public, as well.”

  Colt swallowed, then swallowed again, his throat as dry as the Sahara. Her words sounded promising, but he shouldn’t get his hopes up. “Apology?” he asked warily.

  “Yes.” She pushed her shoulders back, looked him straight in the eye. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. Based on the man I know you to be, I should have known better than to think that you would have had my house condemned. I’m just . . . so sorry.”

  He took a step toward her. “You believe me?”

  She nodded. “I should have from the first. I was scared.” She let out a deep breath, chewed her bottom lip. “Will you forgive me?”

  The tight bubble around his chest burst, allowing Colt his first deep breath since their fight. “I’ll find out who did—”

  She grabbed his forearm. “No, don’t.”

  “Why not?” He couldn’t keep the exasperation from his voice.

  “Because, then you’ll never know, never truly know that I . . .” She put a hand to her stomach. “Oh, lord, this is hard. What I’m trying to say is that I love you.”

  His jaw dropped open.

  “I love you so much. More than I ever thought I could love a man. And if you find out how my house got condemned, you’ll never know that I loved you without proof of your innocence. You won’t know that I wasn’t just saying that I trust you. So, if there’s a chance that we have a future together, please just drop it.”

  His mouth opened and closed several times until he realized he must look like a fish on a hook and snapped it shut. “Sadie . . . I don’t know what to say.” Maybe he should just grab her and kiss the ever-loving daylights out of her. Words seemed inadequate to express how he felt.

  Her face crumpled. “Of course. You don’t have to say anything. I just wanted you to know.” She spun on her heel and took off toward her car. Colt reached for her but grabbed only air. He should run after her, but his legs didn’t want to follow instructions. She loved him. He couldn’t contain the goofy grin that spread across his face.

  Someone socked him in the arm. He turned, noticed everyone staring. He had forgotten they were even there. “She loves me,” he told them, awestruck.

  “Yes, we heard. And from the way you acted, she thinks you don’t love her. I should have hit you in the nose for being so stupid,” Jerome said. “But I wouldn’t want to hurt my hand on your hard head.”

  Miss Shaw clucked at him. “That girl laid her heart bare and you just stared at her. Pathetic.”

  Shep woofed in agreement.

  “Sergio would have handled that much better,” Mrs. Garcia agreed, “but maybe the boy doesn’t feel the same about her.”

  Everyone stared at him expectantly.

  “Of course I feel the same about her. She’s amazing. She’s funny, stubborn, and has a heart the size of . . . that Christmas tree.” He flapped a hand at the behemoth in front of them. “She’s . . . she’s . . .”

  “Gone.” Jerome shook his head. “She just left, man. What were you thinking?”

  Colt frowned. “She took me by surprise. I’ll get her back.”

  “I’m sure she’ll be at the ceremony tonight,” Judge Nichols said.

  “I need a car.” Colt slanted a look at Jerome. “I don’t suppose . . .”

  “Not no way. Not no how. You can’t touch my cruiser.”

  “Here.” Mrs. Garcia dug into her coat pocket and pulled out some keys. She tossed them to Colt, who caught them one-handed. “Take mine. I think we’ll be getting a ride to the police station.”

  He smiled and went over and kissed each woman on the cheek. “Thanks, ladies. Good luck with the police.”

  “And good luck to you. You might need it after staring blankly at the poor girl while she confessed her love.” Miss Shaw shook her head. “Now get going.”

  He didn’t need to be told twice. He had a lot to do in two hours. Not the least of which was talk with his father. There were things that needed to be said and Sadie had given him the courage to say them. Telling him that she loved him, despite how things had stood between them, and with everyone watching, well, that was one of the bravest things he’d ever seen.

  Until she turned tail and ran, of course.

  The grin just wouldn’t leave his face as he jogged to the minivan. He’d make sure she never ran from him again.

  * * *

  His fist knocking on the front door matched the heavy thudding of his heart. Colt almost hoped his father wasn’t home. The lights were on inside, but maybe he had forgotten to turn them off before leaving for the tree-lighting ceremony.

  The door swung open, illuminating his father in a garish red-and-green sweater. “Colt? What are you doing here?”

  “Hi, Dad.” He shifted on his feet. “Can I come in?”

  His father stepped back and held the door open. Colt walked through and followed his dad into the living room, removing his gloves on the way. “Dad, I—”

  “The temperature’s really dropping out there,” Chuck interrupted. He settled on the sofa and picked up the remote. “The weather channel says sixty percent chance of snow tonight.”

  Colt eyed the dent in the wall his fist had made and swallowed. “Dad, I need to apologize.”

  Chuck’s eyes stayed on the TV. “Don’t worry about it. We both said things. Let’s just forget about it.”

  “I don’t want to just forget about it. We need to move past this. I’m tired of the way we’ve been living.” Colt sank down on the other end of the sofa from his father. “After I graduated from college, I thought you wanted me to take over BB. Did you really want Caleb to run it?”

  His father changed the channel to a news program and shrugged.

  He rubbed his neck. “Dad, I know we aren’t big on talking in this family, but I’m going to need more than that.”

  Chuck sighed heavily and clicked off the TV, keeping his eyes on the empty screen. “I wanted you to have BB. I always did.”

  “Then why do you keep implying that you wanted Caleb to have it? Business has only grown since I’ve taken over. I don’t know what you have to be disappointed about.”

  Finally his father looked at him, the wrinkles in his forehead deepening. “I’m not disappointed in you. Never have been. I’m the one who’s sorry for making you feel like that.” He rubbed at the nubby fabric on the arm of the couch. “I never wanted to hurt you. And I never wanted to hurt Caleb. I did know that your brother wouldn’t be a good fit for BB. But how do you tell your boy that you don’t want him running your business?”

  Colt shook his head. “If you thought I was the better choice then why . . . ?”

  “Maybe I didn’t give your brother enough credit. He did very well in the army. He might have surprised us at BB.”

  “He did well in the army because that’s what he was meant to do. He loved being a part of protecting our country,” Colt said. “He would have been bored at BB. We both know it.”

  Chuck opened his mouth as if he was going to protest, then snapped it shut. “That doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “What any easier?” Colt asked.

  “That I was happy when my boy told me he’d enlisted,” Chuck shouted. He pounded a fist into his thigh. “And not just because I was proud of him. But because I didn’t have to tell him . . .” His voice trailed off.

  “That you didn’t want him to have BB,” Colt finished. “Dad . . .”

  Chuck’s eyes shone with unshed tears. “Because I was a coward, I was happy when Caleb joined up, and then he was killed. And I guess I’ve b
een taking it out on you all these years.”

  “Your being happy he enlisted doesn’t have anything to do with him being killed. There’s no reason for you to feel guilty.”

  Chuck snorted. “Whoever told you guilt made sense?” He sighed. “But this is my cross to bear. I’m sorry I let it affect how I’ve been treating you. I’ll do better, son.”

  “Dad”—Colt rubbed the back of his neck—“I just wish I’d known how you were feeling.”

  “What? So we could have flapped our lips talking about our feelings?” A faint smile stretched Chuck’s lips. “I don’t think so.”

  Colt raised an eyebrow. “I might have been able to knock some sense into you at least.”

  “Not likely. I can still take you, boy. You still dropping your right hand before you jab?”

  Shaking his head, Colt gave his father a wry grin. “You’re the one who taught me to box. Any deficiencies I blame on you.”

  His father reached behind him and threw the pillow he’d been resting against at Colt, who snatched it from the air. “Or I can get Janice to talk sense into you. It’s obviously getting serious between you two.”

  His father shifted in his seat. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re wearing that,” Colt said, pointing his finger up and down at his father’s sweater, a frenzied mess of crisscrossing red and green lightning bolts. “It’s so ugly only a woman would have bought it, and the only woman who would be buying you clothing is a girlfriend. And as I said, it’s really ugly. Yet you’re planning on wearing it outside, in public, for the tree-lighting ceremony, right?”

  His father’s cheeks turned pink. “Is it really that bad?”

  “What do you care? It will make her happy and that’s what matters.”

  “What about your girl?” his father asked. “What’s going on there?”

  Colt sat on the edge of the couch. “Well, that’s the second thing I wanted to talk to you about.”

  His father groaned. “Another talk? You’re killing me.”

  “This one should be happier.” Colt grinned. “I want to surprise Sadie and I have a favor to ask you.”