I’m not always a hugger, but at the look in Mrs. Simms’ eyes, my chest tightens and I resist the instinct pulling me to draw her into my arms so she doesn’t feel so alone.
Jesse nods, professionally. He’s in police officer mode now. “Those elves …” He points to the four in her yard. “Came from the town square. And these …” He points to the wreath and lights. “Came from a few other homes.”
Mrs. Simms looks even more heartbroken. “And this,” Jesse presses on. “Baby Jesus came from the nativity out front of First Lutheran.”
“I had no idea,” Mrs. Simms says. “I don't get into town much. And when I do, well … I've been preoccupied ever since Mitch passed." Her eyes fill with moisture this time at the mention of her husband.
My heart twists in my chest. I can’t even look at Jesse or I’ll burst into empathetic tears.
Jesse’s response is soft-spoken, filled with compassion. “You deserved some kindness. Whoever did this was trying to bless you in a season of unthinkable hardship. I’m sorry the circumstances of their gifting were muddied with illegalities. It seems their heart was in the right place.” He pauses and looks her in the eyes. “We all should have done a better job—as a community—of checking in on you and making sure you were provided for after Mitch passed.”
“Well, like I say, we kept to ourselves for the most part. I wouldn’t expect to be on anyone’s mind.”
“Except, you obviously are,” I point out, gesturing to the myriad of mismatched decorations scattered across the property.
“You can take them back to their rightful owners,” she says, a wistfulness to her voice.
“One step at a time,” Jesse says. “When was the last time you had a new decoration show up?”
“Two nights ago, there was a knock at the door. When I peeked out the keyhole, no one was there. I used to get a bit nervous, seeing as I’m out here all alone. But since my angelkept showing up, I’ve been braver about opening the door to the knocks.”
“They always knock?”
“Almost always. It’s like a little game we play. They knock. I open. They’re nowhere to be found, but there’s something new each time. Once it was a big plate of gingerbread cookies, piled high. There was no way I could have finished them all myself, so I ended up showering and taking a few to each of my neighbors. It was the first time I had seen any of them in months. That was a gift in itself. It’s funny how we get into our ruts—living only yards away from one another, and yet we come and go as if no one else exists. All it took was a plate of cookies to break through that barrier.”
The cookies. I look at Jesse and he smiles and nods.
“Anyway,” Mrs. Simms says. “The other night it was a few bags from Kroger’s. There was a chopped salad, some deli cranberry sauce and a rotisserie. No decorations, just a meal.”
“You really do have an angel,” I say with a soft smile.
“That’s what I kept calling them.”
“If it’s alright with you,” Jesse says. “Officer Keller and I will do a stakeout of sorts here on your street tonight. We need to find out who’s responsible for all this. Despite their motives, this person has been breaking the law. I doubt they robbed the Kroger, but the rest of this was all stolen.”
“Even the cookies?”
She had to ask.
Jesse nods solemnly. “From Oh! Sugar.”
Mrs. Simms’ expression falls.
“Again,” Jesse adds. “That doesn’t diminish the heart behind these gifts. Obviously someone cares deeply for you and sees what you’ve been going through.”
“Still my angel,” Mrs. Simms says.
“Still your angel,” I assure her.
Jesse and I say our goodbyes, telling Mrs. Simms we’ll be back here, parked a few lots away, cloaked in the darkness tonight, trying to catch the culprit if they show up. It’s a long shot since we don’t know if they’ll come again or when. But we’re on the trail of the clues now and we’re as close as we’ll get to catching this person—or people. I’m still not ruling out the teen boys, especially now that we see the motive isn’t malicious.
On the drive back into town, I tell Jesse, “I’m supposed to be baking Christmas cookies with Shannon and Lexi and the rest of the girls while the guys are in Columbus doing their holiday shopping.”
“Sounds cozy,” Jesse says, smiling over at me. “I was going to ask you to lunch.”
I feel like telling him he still can, but there’s something resigned in his tone that keeps me from going there.
“I’ll radio the situation in to Deputy Nolan when I get home,” Jesse says. “What time should I pick you up for dinner and a stakeout?”
