Chapter 1 #2
“Okay. I’ll give all of us ten minutes to strategize with our partners and then we’ve got an hour and a half to comb the town and get these items. Feel free to lightly pilfer—with the permission of the owners. You’ll return whatever you take.”
We break into teams. Lexi and I are paired up, of course.
She and I run down the list that apparently Em’s husband, Aiden, put together so no team would have an advantage.
I’m loving how seriously they take this.
In Brooklyn, a scavenger hunt basically meant trying to find parking.
Here, it seems less like frivolous holiday fun, and more like strategic warfare with cocoa breaks.
“Okay,” Lexi says. “I’ve got a plan. We’ll drive around and load up the van with these.
” She points to a few items on the list and then skips down to another group of items. “We can save these for last. But this?” She points to item number fifteen.
“I’m going to send you out to get while I go to a few of the shops downtown that are still open for these three things.
” She circles three items. “Then we can sing the carol, do the dance and give away a Santa hat.”
“You ready?” she asks.
“I’m ready. Let’s win this.”
“That’s what I’m talking about,” she says, smiling.
This morning I was in Laguardia Airport, asking myself if I was certain about this move.
Now I’m already knee-deep in a birthday celebration as if I’m one of the girls.
The smile I give Lexi fills my face. My initial nerves have been replaced by an unexpected feeling of belonging.
I only hope my first day at the station goes equally well.
The buzzer on Laura’s phone sounds a few minutes later and Lexi and I make a mad dash for the van. Soft flakes start to fall, dissolving on the windshield as we drive through town.
Lexi maneuvers to various stops, introducing me to each location like a tour guide: This is the Seed and Feed. Also, our formalwear shop is at the back. I resist teasing her about the uncanny choice of putting tuxedos and manure in the same building.
We gather a bunch of random items: corn from the Seed and Feed, gingerbread from a place called Oh Sugar!—a bakery that was about to close when we pulled up, a picture of the tiniest Christmas tree we could find …
Then Lexi says, “Okay. It’s time to divide and conquer.” She types an address in my phone’s GPS. “Go here. They’re waiting for you. You’re going to strap their inflated Santa to the roof of the van and come back here and meet me. I’ll make the rounds for items six through nine while you’re gone.”
“Got it,” I say. “Number fifteen is in the bag!”
Lexi smiles and we switch spots. She jumps out and I take the driver’s seat, adjusting it to my height. I hit “Go” on my maps app and follow the slightly sexy voice of Australian Siri guy.
I arrive at the neighborhood Lexi sent me to, this one has mostly one-story brick ranch-style homes. I hop out at the address. A couple steps out the front door.
“Alex?” the husband asks.
“Yeah. Dane?” I answer.
“Yep. Let’s get this guy up on your roof.” He points at an inflated Santa that’s much bigger than the roof of Lexi’s van when he’s full of air.
“This is my wife, Karina.”
“Nice to meet you,” she says.
Dane grabs a ladder from the side of the house.
“We’ll pop by Shannon’s and get him back later,” he says as if running around town picking up borrowed yard decor is par for the course. Maybe around here it is.
Once Santa is unplugged, the three of us wrestle him to the roof racks on Lexi’s van and secure him with twine. He’s deflating slowly, but we’ve got him battened down.
“If you had time, we could let him deflate here,” Karina says.
“We don’t,” I say, dashing around to the driver’s side.
“Nice to meet you!” I shout, already turning the key in the ignition.
I pull onto the street and make a right onto the next block. I’m about to pause at a stop sign.
“Is that … ?” I mutter into the darkness.
The telltale swirling red light flashing on top of a patrol car approaches.
Oh, the irony! Well, I guess I’ll get to meet a colleague prematurely.
I run through a list of codes in my head, wondering why I might be getting pulled over. Santa’s not hanging out of the back window like a hostage—or at least not one who’s still negotiating.
I pull to the side of the road, quickly texting Lexi while I watch the officer exit his vehicle and make his way toward the driver’s side door.
Alex: Hey. Got pulled over. Will get to you asap.
I study the man approaching me in my side mirror.
He’s handsome. Which is alarming, because that particular radar’s been out of service since Marco.
I had started to wonder if I had lost the ability to appreciate a man.
Nope. Apparently not. Light brown hair. He’s got a boy-next-door look to him, but in a way that makes you look twice.
Well-built. And that confident stride. Hmmm …
And now he’s knocking on the window with a not-quite-scowl on his face. His brown eyes peer into the darkness at me, his features illuminated by the streetlamp overhead.
I roll the window down and a gust of cold air whooshes into the van along with a few stray snowflakes.
“Good evening, Officer,” I say.
“You’re not Lexi,” he says by way of greeting.
“No. I’m not.”
“Yet, you’re driving her van.”
“I am.”
The cuteness factor is diminishing by the second—but those lips, even as he presses them thin in frustration, definitely have my attention. Why? Maybe it’s jet lag. I only traveled across one U.S. time zone, though. Who knows?
“License and registration, please.” His tone is commanding and he crosses his arms, looking at me down the straight line of his Patrician nose.
“You’re kidding, right?” I ask, half-expecting him to grin. He does not grin. Of course he doesn’t grin.
“Do I look like a man who jokes about code violations?”
No. No, you do not.
“Look, I’m Alexandra,” I say, fishing through my purse for my license. “Alexandra Keller. Lexi is my cousin. I’m driving her van for the scavenger hunt.”
“A likely story,” he says, eyeing my license, then looking at me, then my license again. “New York.”
“I’m from New York.”
He nods slowly, his eyes roving over my face. “So … grand theft auto? Or are we calling this seasonal larceny?”
“No!” I shout, then I calm myself and repeat, “No. No it’s not. I’m Lexi’s cousin.”
“Look, New York. I don’t know you. And around here, we know everyone. You’re definitely driving Lexi’s van.” He glances into the back seat as if I’ve got her stowed back there. “But you don’t look a thing like her.”
He pauses, glancing up. His eyes drift over to the top of my front windshield where Santa has officially drooped and is now slumping. Saint Nick’s not obstructing my view, but his position’s not ideal. I’m pretty sure Santa’s mid-meltdown expression will haunt me till New Year’s.
“You’ve got an unsecured load there, ma’am. ORC 4513.31. Santa’s one sharp gust away from taking flight. That’s a hefty fine if he lands on Main Street. And just where did you get him from? Looks an awful lot like the one from the Johansens’ yard.”
I glance at the Santa hats on the console.
“Look, Officer …” I search his jacket for a badge so I can call him by name.
“... Heinz. Officer Heinz, I am Lexi’s cousin.
We’re doing a scavenger hunt for her friend Jayme's birthday. I’m in charge of getting Santa to Shannon’s.
I’m even supposed to get someone to wear a Santa hat and I need to sing a Christmas song to them. ”
I don’t know what possesses me—holiday spirit, panic, or hypothermia—but I start to belt out “Up on the rooftop …” like a deranged caroller trying to sing for her bail money.
“Okay.” Officer Heinz plants his hands on his hips and spreads his legs in the universal cop stance that says I haven’t laughed since 2012, and I’m not about to start tonight.
Then, in a gravelly, commanding voice that should do nothing for me—especially not set off a traitorous riot of tingles across my skin—he says, “Step out of the vehicle.”
“What?”
“You heard me, ma’am. Don’t add ORC 2921.33, resisting arrest, to your list of infractions.”
“My list … ? Are you serious?”
“As a heart attack. Now, please exit the vehicle.”
“Why?”
“So I can do a sobriety check.”
“A sobriety … ?” I’m sober. Of course I am. “Why would you think I’m not sober?”
“Out of the vehicle ma’am. Or I’ll have to call for backup. And Deputy Nolan’s probably in his fluffy socks watching a holiday special right about now. You don’t want me to have to interrupt his night, do you?”
I don’t know why I’ve resisted telling him up until now. I really didn’t want this to be my coworker’s first impression of me, but this has gone far enough.
“I’m a police officer.”
“Okay. Okay. Out of the vehicle, Officer.”
“No. I really am.”
I’m unbuckling as I explain myself. He seems like the type to escalate things quickly.
Better to defuse by cooperating than to let this go any further.
Somewhere across town, Lexi is probably collecting tinsel and doing her part to win this thing while I’m inadvertently auditioning for Unexpected Criminals: Holiday Edition.
“You know that’s a 2921.51, right?” Officer Heinz says. “Impersonating an officer. Five years and a bright orange jumpsuit for that one. Is orange your color, Miss Keller?”
I sigh, exasperated. “No chance you’d put on the Santa hat for me, is there?”
He stares, unimpressed.
“Yeah. Didn’t think so. Pity. It would’ve completed your whole festive Grinch-with-a-badge aesthetic.”
His look goes from lenient to stern. “Is this a joke to you, New York? Roll into a small town, steal a car—and for some reason, a giant, inflatable lawn decoration—and mock the local authorities?”
“No. Not at all …”
“Okay. Arms out to the side.”
I huff, but obey, arms out like a snow angel caught mid swipe in the headlights of Lexi’s van.
“Now, when I tell you to, close your eyes, tilt your head back slightly, and touch the tip of your nose with the tip of your index finger. Do you understand?”
“Yes.” I resist the urge to huff again, closing my eyes.
“Use your right hand first. And recite the names of Santa’s reindeer in order while you do.”
“What?”
“Recite …”
“I heard you,” I sigh, touching my nose with my right pointer finger. “Dasher, Dancer, Prancer …”
“Now your left hand,” Officer Heinz says.
I touch my left pointer finger to the tip of my nose. “Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen.”
I open my eyes to find him studying me like I’m a conundrum.
“You forgot Rudolph,” he says.
I chuckle, then deadpan, “He was an independent contractor.”
Officer Heinz approaches me and says, “I’m sorry to say it, Miss Keller, but I’m going to have to take you into the station. We’ll contact the MacIntyres and see whether you are indeed their cousin.”
“You’re … arresting me?”
“Detaining.” There’s a clinking of metal and he produces a pair of cuffs.
“You’re handcuffing me?”
“Are you resisting?”
I stare him down, very tempted to run, but with the way this has been going, I can’t trust him not to fire shots if I flee. And I thought Brooklyn after dark had its perils. We’ve got nothing on small town Ohio.
“Turn around, Miss Keller.”
I comply, literally biting my tongue while Officer Heinz cuffs me and walks me to his car.
“What a way to start the job,” I mutter as he ducks my head with his strong hand and eases me into the back seat of his cruiser. “Not even day one, and I’ve already checked off the bucket-list item I never knew I had—getting arrested by my future coworker.”
After I’m secured, he goes back to Lexi’s van, grabs my purse and locks up. Then he drives us through town, Jingle Bell Rock playing through the car stereo.
Behind us, the half-deflated Santa flaps in the wind like he’s questioning all his life choices that led to this moment. I hear you, flapping Santa. I hear you.
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” I ask when Officer Heinz glances at me in the rearview with what appears to be a smirk.
His expression says he’s enjoying it a whole lot, but I’d be the last to know.
Instead of answering me, he says. “We don’t get much crime around here.”
“So, bringing in the out-of-town offender’s kind of a feather in your cap.”
I swear I see his chest puff about an inch. “Nope. Just doin’ my job, Miss Keller.”
“And your job involves violating ORC 2921.45? Interfering with my civil rights?”
His face scrunches up in the rearview.
That’s right, Officer Holiday Buzzkill.
Wonder how this “civilian” knows her penal codes?
Spoiler: you’re about to find out.