Chapter Six #2
“I talked to Helen a few days ago about doing a town mural – a Summer LeFey strictly for the town. She’s searching for the right location, getting the approvals and such, and I’m researching town history and trying to decide how to capture the essence of this place. Simple.”
Tom pointed a finger at her. “Yeah, about as simple as finding Santa.”
“Well, yes. It has turned into a bit of a research project. After using the library and talking to Adelina and Lucille – nope, I’m sorry, that won’t work. Mrs. Heigl.” Everyone around the table grinned.
“Mrs. Heigl suggested I trace family histories, and since I married into a family who came here decades ago, here we are.”
Olivia set her fork aside and patted her mouth with her napkin. “Decades ago is right. The Applegate family came to Echo Falls in late 1897. Lawyers, the lot of them. My family moved to town in 1914 and started an auto repair shop. I confirmed the dates in my records.”
“Lori Devlin found the Echo Falls page in the Texas History book for me. The town popped on the map about 1878 in the midst of the railroad construction era and all the massive cattle drives. It was sustained by farming and cattle.” Summer settled her hand on Tom’s thigh, and he didn’t hesitate to lay his over hers.
It was a comfort and a turn on and said belonging things he’d delve into later.
“Still is.” Bret pushed Lindy’s juice away from the edge of the table. “How does that help you?”
Summer handed Olivia her research file. “Not sure yet, but it should be a part of the final design.”
Olivia flipped through the pages of notes. “A lot of family names here. Lopez – Rafe’s family, Murray, Culley, our families – Carnahan and Applegate, Stuart, Carlsson, Bradley…”
“Owned my farm once upon a time,” Chad noted, nodding at the names.
“Harlow, Slade, Parker, Bradda. More. I know all these families.”
“Me, too. I’ve had many of their kids through school.” Meg pointed at the rolls and Bret handed her one. “Mrs. Heigl arrived later. Early nineteen fifties.”
“Are most of these families still here?” Summer had quit eating and was making notes.
Olivia turned a page over. “Some. Rafe’s family for sure. Can’t turn around without running into a Lopez. Culley family isn’t, neither are the Stuarts. You have quite a bit here.”
Tom shifted so he could see Summer’s face. “Parker and Murray are Trina and Matt’s families. Bradda’s live past Chad’s. Their ranch has been a staple for decades, too.”
“And we all know Slade and Harlow.” Meg’s disgust was evident in her frowning face. “Are those two out of their minds?”
Bret groaned. “I’ve had so many complaints about their behavior, their decorations, their ruining of the holidays.”
“And you’ve said what?” Tom widened his eyes in question.
Bret smirked. “The holidays are what you make them. Override and move on. We’re handling the rest. I talked to Clem. Rafe yelled at both of them. Carmen’s been hands on in their area every shift.”
Robin shifted the conversation. “Speaking of decorations, Olivia, the house is beautiful again this year. I always enjoy yours because God knows sometimes ours doesn’t get finished. We have a tree and lights on the porch. That’s it.”
Chad chimed in. “Four kids are a handicap. Especially these two who are destruction on wheels.” He pointed at the little boys who laughed at him.
“Pregnant wife.” Bret chuckled. “And little Stevie, who is figuring out toddler destruction methods.
Meg slapped his shoulder. “Just wait, mister. One more inbound. What’s your excuse, Tom, Summer?”
“I’m hunting Santa thieves, and they’re gonna get more than coal in their stockings. Maybe lights on the porch tomorrow.”
Summer stayed quiet for a minute. “It’s not Christmas, yet. I’m working on a few things.”
“If you need more help with your projects, dear, call me. I’m only doing two days at the shop while it’s so cold.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Olivia rose from the table. “Anyone for dessert?”
“No, us?” Bret laughed. “Bring it, Grandma.”
“You can come and help me.”
“Kitchen duty accepted.”
“He wants first dibs on dessert,” Meg groused.
Bret bowed slightly. “No, my lovely. I’ll bring the first piece to you.”
Robin reached across the table to high-five Meg. “Ah, true love.”
Tom watched Summer casually finish her plate. Usually, she’d be sketching ideas on the paper in front of her. But she wasn’t. What did that mean?
Tom bumped her with his shoulder. “Finish your dinner. You’ll create better on dessert.”
Summer agreed and cleared her plate, but he got the sense her mind was elsewhere. What else was new? Being married to an artist who was sometimes lost in the fog was not for the faint of heart.
&&&&&&&&&&
Norah hurried into the break room and slapped three notes on the desk. “Find Santa will you. These people are blowing up my phone.” She strode out, her long legs going the distance to her desk in a flash.
Tom frowned and grabbed the messages. Scanning each, he rolled his eyes. “Damn social media anyway.”
“Problem?” Chief Hudson appeared in the doorway arms akimbo. The man had a permanent frown lately. It made his silver hair, hard face, and blue eyes transmit tough and irritable, not approachable. It might be stopping crime, but the jury was still out.
He sifted through the papers again. “Messages. Penny Gutherie, Larry Smith, and Darla from the Echo Falls paper – new social media postings of Santa.”
“Where?”
He checked the notes. “VFW and the elementary school.”
The chief pursed his lips. “Any rumors?”
“Not any Bret and Meg have heard. I asked at dinner last night.”
“Miraculous. I didn’t think anyone at the high school could keep a secret.”
“Unfortunately, they are learning. I swear I’m putting a GPS tracker in Santa’s stuffing next year.”
Paul put his hands on his hips and sighed. “Assuming we find him.”
Tom rose from his chair and grabbed his keys and radio. “Oh, I’m going to find him.”
“Where to now?”
“I haven’t heard from Mia. I’m going to talk to her mother and find out. She was hot to participate and has vanished.”
“Anything else?”
“Two sets of prints so there are two of them wrestling Santa around. But the tread is a well-known tennis shoe, so dozens of kids have them. One must have a car. But so far no sightings. They’ll make a mistake. And this will all be over in a week anyway.”
“Why?”
“Christmas always comes. No need for Santa after Christmas.”
The chief rubbed his neck. “I had breakfast with the business association this morning and got blasted for our inability to find him, then they thanked me because it’s got people out shopping and watching for the old man. Like I had anything to do with it.”
Tom groaned. “If that doesn’t define modern life, I’m not sure what does.”
“What about the pending burglary Carmen was working?”
He checked his notes. “Solved. Items found at the grandparent’s house. Grandpa apparently wanted back some things he’d passed on, but didn’t ask.”
“Lovely. Well, I’m going to city hall to talk with your mother. Something about a mural?”
“Oh. Summer’s.”
Paul fitted his hat to his head. “Yeah, sounds interesting.”
Tom kept his sigh to himself. “She’s got plans. I’m not sure what all of them are, but we’ll keep rolling.”
“Best way to do it with a wife.”
“Do tell.”
“Nope, that’s all I got. I’m divorced, remember? No expert here.”
“Noted. I’m out. I’ll find you later.”
“Keep going. Nobody is perfect and especially not these kids. They’ll make a mistake.” The chief went out the main doors to walk to the courthouse.
Tom stopped to tell Norah his plan and drove to the library. The parking lot had a smattering of cars. He made his way inside, stopping at the entrance to savor the smell of the books.
At the counter, he recognized Janice Murray, one of Trina Parker’s aunts.
“Tom, what can I do for you?”
“I need to talk to Lori.”
“She’s not here. Mia’s pretty sick. They put her in the hospital last night.”
Tom stifled his surprise. “Okay, thanks Janice.”
“Can I help with anything?”
“No, I need to talk to Lori about Mia. So I’ll check the hospital and get updated.”
“Happy holidays.”
“You, too.” He made his way through the quiet of the library and back to his car. No wonder he hadn’t heard from her.
He took the long way around to the hospital so he could survey the business areas and check the front of the VFW.
No point in any exploration there. Too many people went in and out of the building.
It was worse than the post office. They had coffee and snacks at all hours and games ongoing from pinochle to bingo.
Add the veteran’s support group and the place was a constant stream of visitors.
At the hospital, he went inside. Skipping the reception desk and the half-filled waiting room, he went through the double doors and to the nurse’s station.
Dr. Jackie Shay was at the counter in gray scrubs and a white coat with her dark hair in a swinging ponytail.
She stood with her usual quiet confidence.
“Sergeant.”
“Doctor.”
They both grinned.
“What do you need, Tom?”
“Lori Devlin. I heard Mia was here.”
“Yep, room 104, although she’s going home today.”
“Thanks.” He searched for room numbers.
Jackie pointed to the one he needed. “Find Santa yet?” She stifled a chuckle.
Tom drew a deep, steadying breath before answering. “Not yet.”
“I’m not commenting on your skills, but every patient I’ve had today has been sharing their take on who stole Santa.”
“Believe me, the calls at the police station are approaching ridiculous.”
She draped her stethoscope around her neck. “I’ll call you if I hear anything.”
“Thanks, Doc.” His professional tone held a sarcastic edge.
Jackie quirked a brow, most likely commiserating with his tone. “I’m with you, but then I’m not native, so the attachment to the dear old guy escapes me.”
Tom rubbed his neck. “There are some days this small town gives me a headache.”
The doctor stifled a smile. “I have a prescription for that.”