Chapter Two #2
“The place to start around here is always with those responsible for the pranks. Any questions?”
“So she’s going to help?”
“In a way that keeps her out of trouble. When did you go to forensics school?”
“Two years ago.”
So more current than him. He needed to do something about the knowledge gap. “She’s in class now, but fresh eyes don’t hurt.”
Carmen snorted. “Professional eyes.”
“I’ll take educated community eyes if they get us there.” Tom pushed off from the door frame. “And Mia’s are learning eyes. Still useful.”
Carmen set her hands on her hips and stared down the hall, thinking it through. “Learning eyes. Great. Fine. I’ll work with that.”
Tom kept his face neutral. “Keep at it. I’m going to question Slade.”
“I talked to him.”
“Figured. I’m going to talk to him, too. You talk to Clem again. We’ll compare notes. Make sure you ask him who was in the restaurant during the time frame because this town is nosey. A patron may have seen something, but not thought anything about it.”
“Good point. Am I keeping Mia busy or sharing details?”
“We’ll share if it’s relevant. Did Matt get over to do prints?” Matt Parker had volunteered to learn the ropes so they could downsize their lab processing times.
“Yeah and brought in the cords that were helping Santa stand upright. Cut.”
“As soon as we get results, we’ll take the next steps.” Tom fished for his cell phone. “Anything else?”
“Nope.” She executed a nice pivot on her black ankle boots and walked away. Again, answer professional, walk had an attitude.
He glanced at his phone. Text message from Summer. Adelina tomorrow night okay?
Tom hesitated, then slipped his phone back in his pocket, trying to shove down the restlessness clawing at him. He hadn’t played his guitar in months – around the same time Summer took the long contract in Chicago.
He typed back a quick agreement to her plan before he could overthink it. Avoidance was easier than admitting his irritability wasn’t normal. Get it together, Applegate.
He shoved his phone deeper into his pocket.
Hot chocolate sipped during the incoming cold front?
Fine. Time with Summer? Always his favorite part of any day.
A stolen Santa investigation going nowhere?
Annoying, but it would shake loose eventually.
Carols with rusty guitar skills and a voice to match?
Merry freaking Christmas.
&&&&&&&&&&
The sweet scent of summer roses was missing from the entryway of the Echo Falls Retirement Center, fondly called the nursing home.
The rose bushes trimmed back for winter looked bleak.
Summer hadn’t been here for two years because she’d never been home when Tom came.
The last time had been a funeral for an old friend of her grandfather’s.
As typical, Tom brought his calm stability to the elderly community while she traveled and painted. She hated that.
Even with all the difficulties with her grandfather, this place had been good for him.
“What’s wrong?” The soft timber of Tom’s voice left her breathless and fumbling.
“Remembering.”
“The painting in the entry isn’t a fake anymore. You painted them a new one.” His smirk punctuated the tease. He had his guitar case held tightly and reached for her hand. His eyes showed the tiredness he fought to keep at bay, but his face stayed neutral. This wasn’t her Tom.
She eased into a smile. “I know.”
“No critiquing the work. They love it.”
She sighed heavily in exaggeration. “If I must.”
He opened one of the double-entry doors. The building stood out in the community. The large, sprawling home was white, bulky blocks with a light brown mortar cementing them together. The windows were all framed with matching wood and many of the windows had lights.
Simple Christmas trees lined the portico.
The lights twinkled quietly in the gathering darkness.
The dry, green lawn had been trimmed neatly, fall leaves were raked, and the weeded flowerbeds smelled of new mulch.
Across the street, family homes were scattered down the street, some more run down than others, but all had lights in their yards.
A scent of cinnamon apples wafted in the air as soon as they walked through the door. The gnarled and twisted emotions she had about the place from after her grandfather’s death were muted and quiet now. Melancholy rolled over her.
“Thomas, Summer! We’ve been waiting.” Adelina James swept toward her. Her brown eyes sparkled. Her white hair was in a perfectly coiffed roll, and her festive red dress swirled with her movement. The cane was new, though.
She came directly to Summer and held out an arm for a hug. “We’ve missed you.”
Choked up, Summer swallowed hard to banish a bit of tears and went into the hug like she had as a little girl with her grandmother. “Hello! I’ve missed you, too.”
Adelina let her go and turned to Tom. She forced him to lean down so she could kiss both cheeks. “Have you found Santa yet?”
Tom’s disgusted sigh earned him a frown. “Sorry, Adelina. Not yet.”
“Poor Garrett. He’s been so good to me, and he’s gonna have a stroke if you don’t figure it out. Clem wouldn’t do something like this.”
“Don’t hog the man, Adelina.” George Brucker sauntered into the entry with another couple on his tail.
George held out a hand for Tom to shake. “This is Davis and Bobbi Langstrom, Tom. They moved to town to be by their daughter and grandkids.”
“Welcome to Echo Falls.” Tom nodded at the couple. “And this is my wife, Summer.”
“Oh, she’s more than Tom’s wife. She’s our resident famous artist.” Adelina pointed at the painting.
“Oh, I love your work,” the woman gushed. “So special.”
“Thank you.” Summer hated that her smile had become neutral.
Tom ushered the group into the day room.
Pine and peppermint smells added to the cinnamon apple.
The staff had strung a small tree with colorful ornaments and a paper chain that drooped under its own weight.
A record player in the corner hummed softly before the needle skipped, as if even the music was old and careful.
Adelina took Summer’s arm, and she slowed her pace to match Adelina’s halting steps.
By the time she’d settled the older lady into her seat, Tom had his guitar out, tuning strings with practiced turns, and greeting residents by name.
About a dozen total had left their rooms, drawn by the promise of music.
“Why’d you quit the church choir, Tom?” The older gentleman wore a holiday-green sweater, his beard as white as a snowbank. She’d never seen him before.
“Well, Kyle. No time. If you hadn’t heard, I’m hunting a stolen Santa.”
“We heard, son. Work faster.” George shifted to sit near Tom.
Tom strummed the first few chords of Here Comes Santa Claus, the familiar rhythm loosened his shoulders and set his feet to tapping.
Summer grinned. This was exactly what they both needed.
Before long the whole room filled with soft laughter and the crackle of joy. An hour later, they all sang Auld Lang Syne. Even the shy ones hummed along.
He had a way of coaxing everyone to sing despite the creaky notes and thin voices, even maneuvering her into a rendition of Baby, It’s Cold Outside. She whispered fiercely at him that she painted, she didn’t sing, but he only grinned and kept strumming until her laughter joined the chorus.
“Summer,” Adelina called when they broke for refreshments. “Come join me for tea.”
Summer left Tom among the men and made her way to Adelina’s side. “Helen spilled the beans, didn’t she?”
“Yes, she told me about your project. It’s marvelous. How can I help?”
She pulled a chair closer to the table and sat close to Adelina so they could talk privately. “I may be tackling more than I can handle, but I thought a big street mural would be a great way to give back to the community.”
“Put us on the map, you mean?”
“No, that wasn’t my thought. So many of the people in town already support my work. I grew up and went to school here. It’s a gift so to speak for giving me a start. A mural would be for them.”
“So how can I help?”
“Well, I honestly never learned any of Echo Falls history as a town. I may have studied it at one point or my grandparents talked about it, but I’ve got nothing now.
Helen said you used to collect and study the area.
Could you give me some highlights? I’m trying to refine ideas to bring the mural to life. ”
“You mean help you form a painting?” Adelina grinned and rubbed her hands together. “Oh, that would be a thing, wouldn’t it?”
Something unfurled in Summer – pride, excitement, inspiration. Here’s what has been missing from every project over the last two years. The joy of creating. Not for money, not for recognition, but for love.
Summer grinned back. “Yes, it would be a thing. A beautiful thing.”
“Where do we begin?”
Summer poured a cup of tea for herself and Adelina. “Tell me everything you know about Echo Falls.”
Tom made the time to talk with each person while Summer chatted with Adelina. When Summer’s grandfather lived here, he’d been a frequent visitor, the only one for some of them. The residents started drifting back to their rooms, and he opened the case to put his guitar away.
George came to his side and patted his back. “Find Santa, you hear?” The man’s laugh spurred a better mood.
Tom grinned good-naturedly and let go of his stress. “I’m on it, George. Merry Christmas.”
“Don’t be a stranger. It’s been too long.”
“I’ll work on that, too.”
Picking up his guitar, his fingers rested on the strings, good memories flooding him.
The calluses on his finger had softened, the ache in his thumb told him he hadn’t played enough lately.
Music used to come as easily as breathing, but somewhere between the new badge and Summer’s restless travels, the songs had gone quiet.
His own fault. And he wanted the joy back.
Summer stood beside Adelina, laughing over a crooked Santa on display by the bookcase. The sight warmed him, but regret jarred like a missed chord. He strummed one last soft note for himself and promised himself he’d find the music again.