Chapter 13
HOLLY
Holly followed Logan into yet another hardware store, her frustration mounting with each stop. This was the fifth one they’d tried, and none of them had everything on their list.
“How many people do renovations or build during the Christmas season?” Holly grumbled as the clerk told them they were out of the specific wood stain they needed and directed them to another store across town.
“Apparently, everyone in St. Augustine,” Logan muttered, checking his watch. They’d been driving around for over an hour and still didn’t have half of what they needed.
They climbed back into Logan’s pickup truck and headed to the next store on the list. Holly tried to stay positive, but the clock was ticking. Every minute they spent hunting for supplies was a minute they weren’t working on those rooms.
Twenty minutes later, they emerged from the sixth store with only part of their order. The rest would need to be picked up from yet another location.
Logan’s stomach growled loudly as they loaded the supplies into the truck bed.
“I need something to eat,” Logan groaned, pressing a hand to his stomach. “I skipped breakfast.”
“Me too,” Holly admitted. Her own stomach had been rumbling for the past half hour. “How about a quick stop at that little café we passed?”
“Do you think we can spare the time?” Logan asked, worry evident in his voice.
“If we don’t, we won’t make it,” Holly pointed out practically as they stopped in front of the store they needed. “We won’t be long, and besides, we can’t get into the store for another fifty minutes.”
She pointed at the sign taped to the door of the hardware store they needed. Out for 50 minutes. Be back then.
“That’s rather specific,” Logan noted with a frown.
“Agreed, but it works in our favor,” Holly said. “Okay, we have everything else on the list except what’s in that store. And I don’t think any of us will have time to come back into St. Augustine later.”
“No, there’s too much to do,” Logan agreed. “Alright, let’s eat.”
They drove back to the small café they’d passed earlier—a weathered clapboard building with peeling blue paint and a crooked chimney that puffed fragrant wood smoke into the winter air.
Logan found parking right out front, the truck’s tires crunching over gravel.
Through windows fogged with condensation, Holly glimpsed red-and-white checkered curtains tied back with faded ribbons.
A hand-painted sign swinging slightly in the breeze promised “Mama’s Homemade Soup—Same Recipe Since 1978,” while the aroma of fresh-baked bread and something savory—maybe chicken and dumplings—wafted out each time the door opened.
It was packed inside, but they managed to get the last booth. They had just ordered—Holly opting for a turkey sandwich and Logan for the soup-and-sandwich combo—when the bell above the door tinkled.
Holly glanced around automatically, and her eyes widened in horror. She dove beneath the table so fast she nearly knocked over Logan’s water glass, her dignity sacrificed in exchange for temporary invisibility.
“What?” Logan looked at her in confusion, then turned to see who had come in. “Oh, drat.” He muttered and immediately scooted down as well, both of them now hunched awkwardly in their seats.
“Just our luck,” Logan hissed. “These are the times I don’t miss home and how small it is.”
“Where are they?” Holly whispered frantically.
“I’m not sure,” Logan answered, then carefully peeked around the corner of the booth, keeping his head down. “Uh...”
“Holly?” Before Logan could answer, a familiar female voice came from directly above them. “I thought that was you.”
Holly looked up slowly, then resignedly slid back up to a normal sitting position. “Terry.” Her voice could have frozen water.
Logan slowly slid back up, too, looking decidedly uncomfortable.
“I’ve been trying to contact you,” Terry started, but was interrupted by Simon stepping up beside her.
“They’re finding a table for us. Hello, Holly.
This is a nice surprise,” Simon greeted her with that smooth lawyer voice he used when he wanted something.
His eyes flicked to Logan, then looked away dismissively.
“Where is your guard dog, Charlie? I’m surprised she let you out with me lurking around St. Augustine. ”
The joke fell completely flat. Nobody laughed.
“Lurking is an apt way to put it,” Logan stated dryly.
“Oh, sorry, where are my manners?” Terry said with overly bright enthusiasm, holding out her hand. “I’m Terry. Holly’s...”
“The woman who is responsible for her divorce?” Logan finished for her, smiling smugly, and shook her hand. “Yes, I know exactly who you and your...” His eyes fell deliberately on the massive rock on her finger. “Fiancé are. Your reputation precedes you back at the Christmas Inn.”
Holly didn’t bother to hide her grin. They both had zero time or patience for these two, who had just participated in playing dirty to try to steal the inn.
“Uh...” Terry pulled her hand back self-consciously and gave Logan a tight smile before turning back to Holly. “I see you’re about to have lunch.”
“We are,” Holly said flatly, knowing Terry was trying to wangle an invitation to join them at their table because there was nowhere else to sit.
“Sorry, sir?” The hostess called to Simon from the front, then made her way toward them.
“You can either take one of the tables outside.” She glanced out the window where the wind was clearly picking up, rattling the shutters.
“Or you’ll have to wait ten to fifteen minutes for a table inside.
But you’ll have to wait outside as we have no seating room either inside. ”
Terry and Simon looked expectantly at Holly and Logan, who stared back at them with absolutely no expression.
“Uh...” Terry said again, then forced another smile. “Well, I guess we’ll be going to find another diner.”
“Okay,” Holly said simply, going against everything she’d ever been taught about manners by not offering to let them share the table.
“It was good to see you, Holly,” Simon said stiffly. “Come on, Terry. Let’s go find a restaurant. I told you diners are horrible.”
“Call me, please, Holly,” Terry said before turning and following Simon out the door.
Holly and Logan turned and watched them go through the window. As soon as they were out of sight, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“Well, that was awkward and a little childish,” Holly admitted between giggles. “But darn if it didn’t feel good.”
“Oh, I’m right there with you,” Logan agreed, wiping his eyes.
Their waitress appeared with their food, setting the plates down with a conspiratorial smile. “I’m so glad you didn’t invite those two to sit at your table. I was holding my breath, hoping you wouldn’t.”
“Oh?” Holly said, looking at the young woman with interest.
“Yes, they’re horrible,” the young woman said, lowering her voice even though the café was mostly empty.
“They’ve been in here three times over the past week.
Not only are they dreadful tippers, but they also complain about everything.
The coffee’s too hot, then it’s too cold.
The sandwich has too much mayonnaise, then not enough. ”
She leaned in closer. “Yesterday, they were in here with another woman. A blonde woman who was even worse. She actually asked me to check that there were no calories in the mineral water.”
Holly and Logan exchanged amused glances.
The waitress straightened up with a genuine smile. “My mom owns the place, and she told me to tell you that dessert is on the house for not letting them stay.”
“Your mom sounds like a wise woman,” Logan said with a grin.
They enjoyed their meal and the complimentary slice of key lime pie, taking a brief respite from the day’s stress. But all too soon, it was time to get back to work.
Two hours later, Holly and Logan were finally finished at the last store and making their way back to Logan’s pickup truck, their arms loaded with the final items on their list.
“I think we got everything,” Logan said, mentally checking off items as they loaded the truck bed. “Though I’m not sure about that wood stain. It’s close to the color we need, but...”
“It’ll work,” Holly assured him. “We can adjust it if we need to.”
“Miss Bennett?” A teenage boy suddenly ran up toward them, slightly out of breath. “Are you Miss Bennett?”
“Yes,” Holly nodded, surprised.
“A lady asked me to give this to you,” he said, handing her an envelope with Holly’s name written on it.
Holly froze, recognizing the handwriting immediately. That distinctive, slightly slanted script.
“Thank you,” Holly said automatically. “I’m sorry, I don’t have any change on me.”
“Don’t worry, the lady gave me a lot to come and give it to you,” the teen said before turning and jogging back down the street.
“I wonder who that could be from,” Logan said, raising his eyebrows.
“Terry,” Holly said quietly, staring at the envelope as they climbed into the pickup.
“Are you going to open it?” Logan asked, starting the engine.
“Not sure,” Holly said. “I’m afraid it might have a spider or something in it,” she joked, but her hands were shaking slightly as she turned the envelope over.
Finally, she forced herself to rip it open.
Inside was a thick stack of papers. Holly pulled them out and began reading, her eyes widening with each line.
It was copies of contracts. One was a purchase agreement for the Christmas Inn. But the buyer listed wasn’t Victor Martin’s company.
Holly’s eyes widened even more, and her heart pounded when she saw the name.
“What is it?” Logan asked, glancing over while keeping his eyes mostly on the road.
Holly kept reading, her heart pounding. There was a note paper-clipped to the front, written in Terry’s handwriting.
Dear Holly,
I know nothing can make up for what I did. But maybe this will help the Christmas family keep their home.
Terry
P.S. Here is the name of an Inspector. Get Jack Christmas to call him immediately. I know that may not make sense, and you have no reason to trust me, but please, get Jack to phone this man.
At the bottom of the note was a name and phone number: Abe Tanner, Senior Building Inspector, St. Augustine Building Department.
“What is it?” Logan asked again, more urgently this time.
Holly looked up at him, her voice shaking. “Victor isn’t the one buying the inn.” She held the contract for him to see. “And Terry just gave us the contact information for a building inspector.”
Logan nearly swerved off the road. “What?”
“Pull over,” Holly said. “You need to see this. There’s a lot more.”
Logan pulled into a parking lot, and Holly handed him the documents. They sat in silence as Logan read through them, his expression growing more shocked with each page.
“This contract was already drawn up more than four months ago,” Logan said. “Look at the date.”
“They’ve been planning for a lot longer than we all knew,” Holly realized.
“But why would Terry give this to you?” Logan asked, looking at Holly. “Is this a trick? Another way to manipulate you?”
Holly read the note again, studying Terry’s handwriting. She thought about the woman she’d once called her best friend. The woman who had betrayed her in the worst possible way.
But she also remembered the Terry from before Simon. The Terry who had cried with Holly when Holly’s father died. The Terry who had brought soup when Holly was sick and picked Trinity up from school when Holly had to work late.
“I don’t think it’s a trick,” Holly said slowly.
“I think Terry is trying to make amends. Or at least, I think this deal doesn’t sit well with her.
Maybe she didn’t know how dirty Victor and Pamela were playing or just how willing Simon was to go along with it until it was too late for her to back out. ”
“So what do we do?” Logan asked.
Holly pulled out her phone. “We get these to Jack and Charlie. I’ll call them and tell them to meet us in the library.”
As Logan pulled back onto the road, heading toward Anastasia Island, Holly dialed Jack’s number.
Whatever Terry’s motivation, whatever game was being played, one thing was clear.
They finally had some insight into what was really going on.