“Well, Randy’s on duty. He’s got more of the details. You want me to patch you through to him?”
“Would you?” I don’t know if I’m out of line, but Jesse and I have been the ones dealing with the décor wars and the disappearing gingerbread. I’m not sure if the missing elves are related, but in case they are, I want to stay in the loop.
Jeanie patches my call through to Randy. He tells me the elves went missing before dawn this morning. Someone took them last night. He has photos of the footprints around the area, but it's the town square, so there’s not a lot we can use for evidence since so many people walk through there. No one he interviewed saw anything.
We hang up and my phone rings. It’s Jesse.
“Good morning, Alex.” His voice is deep and calming.
“Good morning,” I answer. “Did you call to offer to take me on a tour of Bordeaux on our day off?”
I’m not sure if that’s a bread crumb or a whole slice of bread. I’m pretty bad at flirting—out of practice for sure.
“Uh. No. Did you want a tour?”
“Maybe another day.”Let him pursue you.
“How about tomorrow?”
“That sounds good.”
“I actually called about the elves.”
I chuckle. Out of context these calls sound so odd.
“The elf statues,” he amends, obviously seeing the humor.
“I heard about it at the grocery.”
“Yeah. Jeanie told me you spoke with Randy.”
“What are your thoughts?” I ask him.
“Not the teens from the other night,” he says. “Those three learned their lesson. I think they did, anyway. You never know. But they aren’t the number one suspects on my list.”
“Mine either,” I agree. “Who are you thinking?”
“I’m starting to wonder if all these disappearances are connected—the wreath, the lights, the reindeer, the cookies, and now elves.”
“It could make sense. What’s the point though? The motive?”
“The gingerbread note saidfor a good cause.”
“Who needs decorations like that for a good cause?” I ask. “And why steal cookies? Why not just buy them?”
“All good questions,” Jesse agrees. “I guess we’ll just have to keep following the clues.”
We hang up. I drop by my house, quickly putting away the frozen food and leaving the rest on the counter for later. Then I jump back into my car and drive to the town square.
I find parking in one of the diagonal spots around the square and my eyes land on a familiar figure. He’s talking to a woman, his face serious—studious, intent. It’s our day off, but apparently neither of us can resist the scent of an unsolved mystery.
I sidle up to Jesse and his face breaks into a smile before he has a chance to stop it. My pulse skips in that ridiculous way it does whenever I catch him mid-laugh or mid-frown—proof my body’s already in deeper than my brain wants to admit.
“Officer Keller,” he says, replacing the smile he just gave me with a more professional expression.
“Officer Heinz,” I reply, smiling just a little.
“I was just asking Angela about the elves,” Jesse says, introducing me to the woman standing in front of him.
