Page 51 of This Christmas

Chapter Thirteen

Ally watched Joe’s expression carefully, noticing the subtle shift in his eyes as he glanced at her and Charlotte standing in the doorway. They were dressed for their trip out in the snow, Charlotte in her white puffy coat and red scarf, clutching her mittens, and Ally in her black pants, white sweater, coat, and hat.

But something in Joe’s face made her pause.

He smiled softly and then crouched in front of Charlotte. “Why don’t you head in and watch cartoons until we’re ready to go, kiddo?”

Charlotte cheered, oblivious to the tension humming through the room, and ran down the hall toward the living room. The faint sound of the TV followed a moment later.

When she looked back at him, her stomach twisted. The warmth in his eyes had shifted into something graver. “What happened?” she asked quietly.

He rubbed the back of his neck, then stepped closer. His voice was low and careful, as if he was afraid of her reaction to what he had to say.

“You remember Peterson? The guy who was asking you questions the other day?”

Her heart sank. “Yeah… why?” God, was he back? Was he hiding out in the tunnels?

“I found him,” he said slowly, his gaze steady on hers. “Down in the tunnels.”

Her heart stopped, but then Joe’s reaction hit her and she furrowed her brows. “Found him?” A buzzing in her head started low.

His next words hit like ice. “Ally, he’s dead.”

For a moment, the room seemed to tilt. She swayed, her hand flying to her mouth. “What?” The word cracked out of her.

Joe closed the distance between them, his tone remained soft. “It looks like he was shot. I’ve already called Aiden. He’s on the way over with, well, I’m guessing everyone on the force.”

“Oh my God…” She turned instinctively toward the hallway where Charlotte’s laughter drifted faintly. “She can’t, she can’t see that.”

“She won’t,” he promised quickly, gripping her shoulders. “I’ll make sure she doesn’t.”

Ally nodded numbly, but tears blurred her vision. “Peterson… I didn’t like him, but… what was he doing down there?”

“I don’t know.” Joe squeezed her hand. “Let’s just sit tight until they get here, okay?”

She nodded, swallowing hard.

Within ten minutes, the peaceful morning turned chaotic. Tires crunched on snow outside the windows and they all heard several doors slam. Red and blue lights flashed through the frosted windows, casting beautiful patterns across the living room walls.

Charlotte gasped from the window. “Look, Mommy! Fireworks!”

Ally forced a small smile. “It’s beautiful, honey,” she said softly, praying her daughter wouldn’t sense her shaking hands.

Joe opened the front door as Aiden, Tom, Nick, and two other deputies climbed the walkway. There were more vehicles pulling in as well—a van, a couple of unmarked cars—until the yard looked like a small command center.

“Where is it?” Aiden asked.

“In the tunnels beneath the lighthouse,” Joe said, motioning them in. “We’d like to keep this quiet. Charlotte’s still here.”

Aiden nodded, glancing toward the window where Charlotte waved at them. “Understood.” He wiped the snow from his feet and stepped inside.

Nick followed and cleared the snow from his boots as well. Tom spoke quietly into his radio on the porch.

Aiden turned back. “Once you’ve shown us where... the three of you should head into town. Grab some lunch and keep the little one busy.”

Ally caught Joe’s eye and was grateful for the chance to escape. “We can do that.”

An hour later, after Joe had led the police through the tunnels and given his initial statement, Ally stood outside the lighthouse with her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The snow had stopped, and the sunlight reflected off the sand dunes, making it dazzling bright. When Joe emerged again, his expression was grim but oddly steady.