Page 72 of Mistletoe All the Way

“Again, you gave me the third degree for liking a mystery.”

“It was murder and mayhem. You deserved the third degree,” I say. “But this is also kind of what I do for a living—assembling details and all into a story. I’m just trying to do that with…” I pause, scan the bustling shop for big ears, and I’m about to lower my voice and whisper the enemy when I spot the man in question.

I peer through the painted reindeer outline on the window of the shop and out to the sidewalk. A tall man with his head ducked over his phone, a thick jacket on, and black hair marches down the street with purpose.

“There he is,” I whisper.

Noah swings his gaze to the glass. “Let’s go.”

A few minutes later, we’re back in our costumes, sailing down Holly Springs Lane and following Stephen once again, froof long forgotten.

He zags down one road, then another, and soon we’re passing the town limits and heading into Maple Valley, a neighboring town, where Stephen flicks the turn signal and pulls into a parking lot at a tack shop.

My heart rate spikes victoriously. “He is doing something horse related! I knew it.”

“Yeah, but what?”

Dammit. That’s a good question. “But has he ever done anything horse related before? I don’t think he’s buying them a new saddle, right?”

“Fair point. But as much as I want to believe he’s up to something, this doesn’t prove anything,” Noah says.

“Not yet. But I’ve got a feeling.” I speed past the tack shop and pull over to the side of the road where I can just, through the wide glass windows, spot Noah’s cousin talking to a blond woman at the counter, while a man with a mustache and a ball cap wanders through the store, checking out reins.

I home in on Stephen and the woman at the counter, wishing I could read lips. But I can do something else. Thanks to Krav Maga, I can crouch like a pro. “Be right back,” I say, then swing open the door and dart over to the side of the shop, skulking along the wall till I can squat low and peer into the corner of the window. In seconds, Noah’s right behind me.

“Friends don’t let friends spy alone,” he whispers.

I squint through the window, observing as the woman listens to Stephen with a furrowed brow. Then she points to the wall, and I follow her moves. There’s a bulletin board there, full of community notices. From my vantage point I can just make out flyers for horse trainers, for riding lessons, for trailer rentals.

I gasp. On the far right of the board are listings for buying and selling horses. Stephen’s walking straight there.

Righteous anger floods me.

Noah clenches his fists. “Are you kidding me?”

“I’m going to get to the bottom of this,” I promise him, then grab his jacket and nod to the car. “But we should take off before he sees us.”

Noah breathes a plume of fire, but then gives in, returning to the car. When he shuts the door, he turns to me. “How are we going to get to the bottom of this?”

“I’ll figure it out. It’s what I do. Now, you go help your gramps.”

I drive Noah back to my place, where he hops in his truck to head to Silver Bells. I make my way to the hockey rink, where a local youth hockey team is visiting for a light scrimmage with the minor-league team. I snap photos and post captions, but the whole time my mind is whirring. I need more information about Stephen’s plans. Noah’s grandfather won’t be satisfied with my Harriet the Spy hunches. He’d probably figure Stephen’s looking for a new horse trailer to rent or, heck, he might even believe Stephen’s educating himself about the horse business. He’ll want to believe Stephen is acting with hard work and determination. I roll through possibilities for what’s next as I finish my assignment and return to Rudy’s for the third time today, order that peppermint mochaccino at last, and work on the Cowboy Vet feed. I pop over to the Evergreen Falls social media, too, where Rosario posted the attendance at the parade. It’s up from last year, by more than ten percent.

It’s growing, that’s for sure. I drum my fingernails on the table. How can I grow my work as a spy?

I noodle on that as I take a fortifying sip of my froofy drink, flicking through the pictures of Noah on the horse, wearing the Santa hat. A new look for him.

That’s it!

I start to put together a plan, then I place a few online orders.

Just a little hard work and determination on my part.

22 MAY I INTEREST YOU IN A DOORSTOP?

Noah

Places, everyone.”