Isla takes a seat next to him, and I see his shoulders shake a bit.
“It’s cold in here,” he says, but I don’t comment.
It’s not cold; it was his reaction to Isla. He just doesn’t know it.
“What can I get you to drink?” Christine says, placing a cup of coffee in front of Nick.
“I’ll have one of those.” I motion toward the mug. “Maybe bring a whole carafe. I could use it today.”
“God, do I miss coffee,” Isla groans. “Nothing better.”
Christine nods, her ponytail bobbing as she turns away. “Coffee coming right up,” she chirps, disappearing behind the counter.
“Didn’t sleep well?” Nick’s concern is evident as he studies my face.
“I had a bizarre dream. That’s all,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders nonchalantly. “Mrs. Fields was wandering around at night, snatching things from people’s yards and putting the stuff in her garage.”
Nick lifts an eyebrow, his interest piqued as he takes a sip of his coffee.
“It was strange,” I continue, my brow furrowing in concentration. “Garden gnomes, angels, a wreath…” I trail off, trying to recall the details. “And a Christmas sleigh.”
Nick’s eyes widen as he splutters slightly. “A sleigh?”
I nod firmly. “Yes, a sleigh. I told you—it was strange.”
“What did the sleigh look like?” Nick leans forward.
I pause, my mind replaying the dream. “It was red, with gold stenciling along the sides,” I say, my voice trailing off uncertainly.
Nick’s head shakes and he whistles. “That’s the exact description Patty Phillips gave me of her missing Christmas sleigh. What’re the odds?”
I purse my lips, considering the possibility that this dream could be like the last.
“A sleigh’s a sleigh,” I say, shrugging my shoulders.
“Yet, a dream is never just a dream with you,” he says playfully, but I hear the hint of truth in his voice.
“Oh my god. I have butterflies,” Isla says dreamily. “Can ghosts have those?” She purses her lips and taps her chin.
I ignore her, focused in on what Nick’s just said.
“You don’t think…” I allow my words to trail off, not wanting to embarrass myself by assuming Nick truly thinks the missing items in the neighborhood could’ve been Mrs. Fields’s doing.
“Never say never,” he says. “I’ll check in on her. Doesn’t hurt to stop by.”
“There’s a lot going on these days around here,” he says, placing his cup down and intertwining his fingers. “Break-ins, theft…murder.” He shakes his head on a huff. “Chelsea and Sierra may have been killed in Falls Haven, but they’re both from Knox Harbor. That can’t be a coincidence.”
I offer a sad, tight-lipped smile. “No, I don’t suppose it is,” I admit. I lean forward, not wanting to be overheard. “I think they’re involved with a group called the Order of Providence.”
His eyes narrow, and he bites the bottom corner of his lip, appearing to mull that over.
“What gives you that impression?” he finally asks.
I have to think about that for a moment, compiling all that’s happened leading me down that path.
“The combination of what Chelsea’s ghost showed me, mixed with my dream about Sierra. That’s when I first saw the symbol. I wouldn’t have thought about that again, but it’s likely not happenstance that it popped up again at Montgomery Estate.”
He nods. “Then there’s the fact that Sierra had that tattoo behind her ear too.”
