Chapter Two
With the library closed for lunch, Summer left there and decided to grocery shop.
She wasn’t the best cook for two reasons.
She never practiced, and when she tried she got sidetracked by painting and drawing ideas.
Truthfully, when she lived in Jonathan’s house in San Francisco, he had a chef.
She fully admitted she had been spoiled and missed Chef Tres Renault.
Gradually, she’d learned the ins and outs of her crockpot and shamelessly utilized Olivia Applegate, Tom’s grandmother, for the best recipes. Clem Harlowe, owner of Clem’s Restaurant, would definitely argue with the ‘best’ designation, but Olivia won every Echo Falls contest.
Summer navigated through light traffic to park in Sal’s Grocery.
The store sprawled over the full corner on Main Street and the State Highway.
The building was by far the biggest in town minus the courthouse and the brewery.
She tipped her head and studied the fiesta red building with its two entrances and automatic doors.
Sal’s Grocery was painted in white script across the front.
When had this upgrade happened?
It used to be a wonderful shade of rusty sienna.
With her painter’s eye, she studied the color and shook her head.
Must be the Christmas lights from Clem’s and Slade’s spotlighting the block, but the vibrant red shrank the building and wasn’t doing the business any favors.
But nobody asked her, and the locals didn’t care as long as Sal’s had beer, popcorn, and bread flour at midnight on any given night.
“Find these ingredients and get out,” Summer coached herself. The store carried the widest possible array of grocery items, but it also stocked aisle after aisle of non-grocery products from clothing to toys to tools to beauty products. One-stop shopping. Hence, distraction.
She scrolled through her list identifying which aisles she needed to eliminate the urge to browse.
If she stayed with these, she’d get home on time to get the recipe in the cooker.
Walking inside, she noted the store wasn’t crowded, thankfully.
Tom might be able to buzz in and grab here and grab there, but she needed time to study and process what she was doing.
As a kid and a teenager, neither grandparent had spent any time teaching her to cook.
She painted and ate what was put in front of her.
Chicken, sauce ingredients, rice, and vegetables later, she stood in the bakery and finally grabbed the apple pie and rolls. Maybe Olivia would have time later to teach her how to bake. Was she overdoing it? Tom knew she didn’t cook when he married her.
She carefully set the items in the cart and turned toward checkout. She was descending into ridiculous here. She had enough on her plate without baking pies or bread!
“Excuse me, ma’am. You look like my wife.”
Tom’s deep voice washed over her. Summer jerked around. Tom in his uniform was enough to make her heart do a hard flip before settling into a happy pitter patter. She went on tiptoe to kiss him. “Give a girl some warning will you?”
“What are you doing?” He peeked over her shoulder at the cart.
“I have a crockpot recipe your grandmother gave me. I’m going to make it when I get home. Okay with you?” Could she sneak a picture of him with her phone? She had a special Christmas present in mind, but needed current pictures of him in uniform so she could draw the details accurately.
“Sounds good. Movie night?”
“Fine by me. Miracle on 34th Street?”
“No Christmas, if you don’t mind. I’m more in a grinch mood at the moment.”
Concerned at his expression, she touched his sleeve, then took his hand. “Oh, that’s not good. What happened?”
“Santa thief.”
Confused, she frowned. “Santa thief?”
“Yeah, Slade’s had an over-sized Santa on display. Somebody stole the Santa.”
Summer’s eyes widened. “Crime in Echo Falls. Who knew?”
Tom huffed. “Somebody being stupid more like it. I’m visiting the deli for lunch. Want to join me?”
She nodded. “Sure, for a minute. But I have to get home and get this in so we can eat dinner at a good time.”
He grabbed her hand when she went to turn the cart around. “You don’t have to do this for me.”
“Do what?”
His fingers tightened on hers. “Cook for me, stay here to work. I’ll support you in every way.” His blue eyes were intense and sincere. She swallowed a rush of hot emotion.
But the hesitation in his voice made her chest ache. He constantly stayed braced for her to leave again, though he’d never admit that. The weight of the disconnect lay heavy between them, but now wasn’t the moment to expose those turbulent feelings.
So she spoke from her heart. “It’s simple. I want to. I’m staying now for us, but more for me. I deserve you. We deserve some time together and winter sucks up north.” She smiled and kissed his mouth, determined to chase away these shadows. “Let’s go, Sergeant. You gotta find Santa.”
“We serve the people,” Tom muttered and followed her to the deli. Potato soup and thick hoagies settled both their moods. Plus, she managed to snap a few pictures when he wasn’t watching so she could study how his gear moved when he did.
Whew, a man in uniform, throw in a few muscles and the deference many of the others in the deli showed toward him, and the drawing she had in her head shifted and changed.
She’d been crazy in puppy love with Tom in high school when she’d drawn him in his baseball uniform and shyly given him the drawing.
She’d left home shortly after, and years passed before she met him again to discover he’d framed the drawing and kept it on the wall in his home.
Crazy how besotted she’d been, and the emotion had not dissipated one bit for the woman who became his wife.
“Why are you staring at me?”
A small smile formed on her lips. “Studying how the town treats you. I’m so glad I made you not give this up.”
Instead, she’d followed him home.
But had she?
She’d let her art drag her all over the world while Tom existed here alone – a lip service to their marriage she was determined to fix. Guilt pricked sharp. This time, she would stay.
He put a hand on the table and leaned in to lightly kiss her. His fingers tightened, as if he needed to anchor her here. “I followed you and would have stayed, too. You know that, right?”
Not used to seeing vulnerability in his eyes, she touched his hand and gave him a second kiss to ease away those worries. “Yes, but it’s my turn to show you. I love being with you. I do miss Jonathan’s chef, but Olivia is a great teacher and substitute.”
“Yes, she is. I’ve got to get back on duty.”
“Yes, go find Santa. I’m going home to cook and draw. Remind me to discuss some time at the nursing home for caroling. I need to talk to Adelina.”
“Why?”
“I presented my idea for a mural to your mother. She directed me to Adelina for town history to help form the project. It’s nebulous in my brain at the moment.”
Tom stared blankly at her. “Okay. We can arrange a time.”
“I needed to tell you before I forgot. Might be days before I remember again.”
Tom gazed at her, his blue eyes sweeping her face.
“What?”
“What would you say if I needed to use a fourteen-year-old to find Santa?”
Summer shrugged. “She reliable?”
“Knowledgeable at least.”
“Use her. Skill does not have an age limit. I know this.”
He kissed her again. “You’re exceptionally smart, Summer Girl.”
She smiled at the compliment. “Go find Santa. I’ll see you at home.”
He squeezed her hand and walked away.
She stayed in place and observed others watching him, waving at him, and stopping him to talk.
This town loved her husband.
So did she. She told him plenty. But it was time to show him.
&&&&&&&&&&
Tom walked in the back door of the police station, registered the coffee and pizza smell, and braced himself. Carmen came at him like lightning to a rod. He gave a millisecond thought to dodging into the men’s room, but that would accomplish nothing and start Carmen on a tirade.
He dropped his empty drink from Sal’s into a trash can inside the break room door and waited for the detective to finish a quick stop at dispatch.
Carmen stood a bare five foot five with smooth mocha skin and brown eyes flashing with determination.
Her professional dress and demeanor complimented the fire he saw in her expression, and her voice and diction stayed direct and clear.
She stopped in front of him, her lips pursed and pouty.
He crossed his arms and rested a shoulder on the break room door jam. “What now?”
“Mia.”
“She steal our Santa?” Her mischief was more direct and usually intellectual.
“Not that I’m aware, but what did you say to her? She’s called me twice with leads. I can get my own leads, dammit.”
“And those leads were?”
“You don’t actually want to know, do you?”
“Yes.”
Carmen gave him a look every exasperated woman gave a non-cooperative man. “She’s been checking social media.”
“For?”
“What do you think? Any hint of our Santa.”
“Anything?”
“No. Pictures of him the day before on Slade’s website. He is bigger than I thought.”
“And?”
“Pictures this morning at 8:45. He was still there.”
“So someone lifted him between 8:45 and the argument the two men had at 10:10.
“Broad daylight. And yes, I already checked. No surveillance anywhere on the block.”
Pretty much what Tom expected. “Any other footprints from where we stopped.”
“Nope. I checked the side streets. A car may have picked them up. I’m canvassing all the businesses and houses in a three-block radius for witnesses and home cameras.”
“Sounds right. I’m going back out on patrol in a minute. I’ll poke around, too.”
Carmen sighed sharply, not containing her frustration. “She wants to help.”
“She told me. Tell her to keep monitoring social media and listen for chatter at school. Those kids can’t keep a secret, especially if more than one of them knows about it.”
“So you’ve concluded it’s kids?”