The Mystery Before Christmas

Tuesday

Christmas Eve

“It looks like they are having fun,” I said to Alastair as we watched Cass and Paisley ice skating on the lake from the attic window.

“Meow.”

“Yes, I know that you are unhappy that Milo is spending the day with us, but he is a good dog who hasn’t bothered you a bit. I suggest you make friends with him. Cass and I are spending more time together lately, and Milo comes as part of the package.”

I hugged the cat to my chest, scratching him behind his ears as I watched the dog, the child, and the man I felt myself drawn to. I knew I was going to need to deal with the feelings I was developing for him at some point, but it was Christmas Eve, and today I just wanted to enjoy the fact that Gracie and Ethel were in the kitchen cooking up a storm, while Tom tinkered with the lights in the yard, and Alastair and I wrapped presents in the attic. I’d meant to have my gifts wrapped before this point, but Dex had been keeping me busy ever since I’d agreed to help him.

“I guess we should get back to the gift wrapping,” I said to the cat. “Once we’re done, we can go and join Cass and Paisley.”

With that, the cat wiggled down and headed out the door. I supposed he wasn’t thrilled with the idea of venturing out into the frosty day, but there was something about frostbite and Christmas that seemed to go together.

I glanced at my laptop and the article I’d been working on for the New Year’s edition. I was far from being done, but at least I had started. I just hoped that the feature I’d been assigned for the following week would be less intense than the Secret Santa series. At least Dex seemed happy with the series, and his buddy, while disappointed there was no big reveal, went ahead and ran both my Christmas Eve story and the story about Cornwall Norris and the stash of money he left behind. Even in death, Cornwall had left behind a legacy of death and destruction. I felt bad for Buford, who’d simply been trying to do the right thing.

“Callie, are you up there in the attic?” Aunt Gracie called.

I headed to the top of the stairs and called back. “Yeah, I’m up here.”

“Have you seen that big platter we use to serve the turkey? I can’t find it anywhere.”

“Hang on. I’ll come down and look for it.”

I turned and looked at the pile of gifts I’d wrapped. I still had a few to get to, but they could wait. I picked up the gifts that had been wrapped and headed toward the stairs. After placing the gifts beneath the tree, I headed into the pantry to look for the platter. I was sure I’d seen it buried beneath some other items when I was looking for the last jar of homemade jam.

“I got it,” I said to Gracie as I slipped it out from under the dishes on top of it.

“Great. I thought I’d left it somewhere. Dinner will be in an hour if you want to let Cass and Paisley know they should start wrapping it up.”

I pulled on my heavy coat, which had been left hanging on the rack. “Okay. I’ll let them know. Tom, as well.”

I headed out the door into the cold and snowy landscape. I headed toward Tom, who seemed to be doing more standing around than anything. “The lights look good.”

“I know. I just like to tinker. I was about to head in and see if Gracie needs any help.”

“She said dinner will be in an hour.” I stood back and took in the house, the lights, and the movement that could be seen through the kitchen window. God, I’d missed this. The feeling of family. The feeling of belonging. During all those Christmases I’d chosen not to come home, I hadn’t been aware of what I’d been missing out on, but now that I remembered how it felt to be home, I vowed never to miss another Christmas with the people I loved the most in the world.

“Guess I should get inside,” Tom said. “I like the hat.”

I reached up to find the Santa hat I’d slipped on while wrapping gifts. I’d forgotten it was still there. “Seemed festive.”

Tom leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek. “It is. And the sprig of mistletoe pinned to the brim is a nice touch.”

I watched Tom as he walked away. I supposed I should remove the mistletoe before I came into contact with Cass. Reaching up, I unpinned it and put it into my jacket pocket.

“Are you coming out to skate?” Paisley, who had taken off her skates and slipped on her boots, ran over to me.

“Actually, I’m coming to tell you that dinner will be in an hour, so you should start to wrap it up. I’m sorry I wasn’t able to join you, but I will tomorrow for sure.”

“Okay. I’m cold anyway. I’m going to see if I can have some hot cocoa.”

With that, she ran toward the house with Milo hot on her heels. I waited as Cass approached. “It looks like you were having fun.”

He smiled. “The best time. Paisley is a good skater.”

“She is,” I nodded. “I’m supposed to let you know that dinner will be in an hour.”

“Good. I’m starving.” Cass took my hand and pulled me toward the lake. “I want to show you something.”

I let myself be drug along behind him. He’d carved CC and CW intertwined in the ice.

“Remember when we did this when we were kids? Carved our initials in the ice,” he asked.

“I do remember.” My CC was on the top, and the C in Cass’s name hung from the second C in my name and was followed by a very flowery W. “I’d forgotten all about that.”

“We vowed to be best friends forever. We promised to skate on this lake every winter and to carve our initials in the ice.”

“We did,” I acknowledged.

“It seems,” Cass said, turning so we were facing each other, “that we have some time to make up for.”

I lowered my eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. It was my fault we didn’t keep that promise. I left, but you were here waiting.”

He ran a finger along my jaw, pausing at my chin to tilt my head up. “I understand why you left. You’ve always been one to follow your heart, and your heart led you elsewhere. I’m not happy that you lost your career, but I am happy you’re back.”

“I know. Me too.”

He reached into my pocket and took out the mistletoe I thought I’d cleverly hidden. He held it over our heads.

“I don’t think…” I started.

He leaned forward and softly touched his lips to mine before I could complete my protest. I wanted to pull back, but instead, I found my arms around his neck.

“Merry Christmas, Calliope Rose,” he whispered against my lips.

“Merry Christmas to you as well, Deputy Wylander.”