Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
It was easy to push Susie’s words out of my mind because I was so busy at work.
Carol was in and out of the office all afternoon.
She kept leaving to supervise the setup of the ceremony.
Unfortunately, we didn’t have an assistant at the front desk yet because Carol hadn’t replaced Mary and the temp agency hadn’t sent someone today.
So I had to fill in while I did my own work.
I’d never answered the same questions so many times in a row.
Bills could be paid in the collector’s office.
Permits could be obtained by the town clerk upstairs.
I even had a couple of dog license requests.
But soon enough, it was five o’clock and the building was officially closed.
I finished up my work and took a moment to respond to some texts.
My message to my parents kept timing out.
My phone had been glitchy all day since it had run a big update.
I hated that. The phone would be working perfectly.
Then the system forces an update and it’s glitch after glitch.
I groaned and put it back in my purse. I could try again later. My folks were probably asleep now anyway, on the other side of the globe. A much warmer side.
All of the restaurants in town were fully booked, the first sign that peak season was here.
I grabbed a salad to go from the pizza joint and ate it back in my hotel room.
Then I changed out of my office clothes.
I’d have to be outside tonight for at least an hour.
This required layers. I pulled on a T and a gray wool sweater.
Then I paired it with the jeans that flattered my butt the most, thick socks, and winter boots.
A text lit up my phone.
Carol: Where are you?
I glanced at the time. It was 7:10. The ceremony didn’t start until 8, and I’d assumed getting there around 7:45 would work. Apparently not.
Me: On my way.
Carol: Bring me a coffee.
I was a social media manager, not her secretary. But this wasn’t the time to push back on that.
Me: Sure.
The lobby of the inn was bustling. I didn’t even bother to wave at Grace on my way out.
I’d never seen her so harried. Main Street was even busier, with most of the foot traffic headed toward the park.
It looked like all of our work hyping up the event was paying off.
I bought a coffee to go for Carol and headed into the crowd.
The masses had already started to assemble in the park, which looked like a festive haven.
Glowing lampposts were wrapped in garland.
The high school band played holiday songs in the gazebo, which was strung with twinkling white lights and draped in red ribbon and pine garland.
A small stage had been erected between the gazebo and the tree, which was shrouded in darkness and hidden behind a large, dark screen on wheels.
Apparently, Christmasville took their tree reveals seriously.
Carol was hovering near the stage, talking in low tones to Sheriff Kris.
“Everything okay?” I asked as I approached.
She turned to me and grabbed the coffee from my outstretched hand. “Of course. Thanks for the coffee.”
“No problem. What else do you need?”
Her eyes scanned the area. “Everything looks good. The crowd is as big as ever. Take some pics and obviously go live from our account when it’s time.”
“Absolutely,” I said.
She pointed at an area in the front row.
“You should get your spot now. Don’t let anyone push in front of you.
We’ll roll the screen away just before the countdown.
Santa will be on stage with me, so get video of us counting down.
Then focus on the tree. When the lights go on, there will also be spotlights beneath it.
It’s going to be beautiful. Then pan the crowd to show how many people are here. ”
“Got it.”
I left Carol’s side and found a spot in the front row that would give me the best view. Officer Nick was there in uniform, his arms crossed, his eyes scanning the crowd. The scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider wafted from nearby vendors.
I gazed around and was impressed by the number of people who’d showed up.
Couples held hands, their breath visible in the chill.
Children clutched hot cocoa cups and waved glowsticks.
Grandparents stood beside strollers. I panned my phone’s camera across the crowd and posted the panoramic photo to the account’s story with a tease that we’d be going live soon.
A warm buzz of excitement filled the crowd as the band ended their rendition of “O Holy Night,” and Carol took the stage. She wore a royal blue pantsuit that contrasted beautifully with the streaks of gray in her hair. She stepped up to the small podium and adjusted the microphone.
“Thank you for coming to Christmasville’s tree-lighting ceremony!” she called with her arms held out wide.
The crowd politely clapped.
“I’m Mayor Carol, and I’m so happy to have you here. But I think I need some help with the countdown. Who do you think should help me?”
Children started shouting from the audience.
Carol held a hand up to her ear. “Did I hear someone say Santa?”
The kids screamed, jumping up and down. I had to hand it to her. She knew how to work a crowd.
Carol cupped her hands around her mouth. “Ohh, Santaaa!”
The crowd roared as Santa himself came on stage. I was close enough to tell that it was Jack. He waved at the crowd, then placed his hands on his protruding belly and called out a loud “Ho! Ho! Ho!”
Meanwhile, a couple of helpers pulled the screen out of the way. The immense tree loomed, shrouded in darkness, its outline just visible against the starlit sky. I was a full-grown adult and still found myself giddy with anticipation.
It was too bad Isabella wouldn’t be expanding our reach to her followers. As much as I disliked her, she’d done a good job the previous two days. I scrolled quickly to her account to see if anything new had been posted. But it was only the same creek photo from yesterday.
Carol gave me a look, and I knew that it was time. As she and Santa continued to hype up the crowd, I went back to our account’s page and hit “live.”
Nothing happened.
“What the hell?” I muttered.
“We’re hoping you can help us count down from ten,” Carol said. “And then Santa will magically light up the tree! Can you help us count?”
The kids in the crowd squealed and screamed happily.
I hit “live” again. Still nothing. It was like my phone had lost its signal. My only hope was to reboot, catch a new signal, and hope that Carol didn’t fire me for missing the, um, lighting part of the tree-lighting ceremony. I swore I would never allow my phone to do an update ever again.
Holding the power button down, I forced a reboot. “Damn it all to hell.”
I was so glad Isabella had skipped town. I could only imagine the snickering if she were standing beside me watching my failure in action.
My phone started coming back to life as Carol and Santa led the crowd in counting down from ten. Thankfully, Carol wasn’t looking my way and noticing my phone not held up and pointed at the tree.
“Five … Four … Three …”
I opened the app, willing it not to glitch.
“Two …”
The app opened to our feed, and I redirected it to our account’s page.
“One!”
I hit “live.”
With a sudden brilliance, the tree burst into color. Hundreds of multicolored lights blinked to life, casting a warm, magical glow that danced off the faces of the crowd. The star at the top illuminated last, shimmering against the night sky. Gasps and cheers erupted.
Then came the screams.
As my eyes adjusted, I noticed something nestled in the branches that shouldn’t be there.
A body.