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One
Crooked Creek
One year later
Detective Ellie Reeves was taking a night off from crime. Over the last few months, the cases in the small Georgian town of Crooked Creek had worn on her, but November had been blessedly quiet, just as her office was tonight. No files of dead women or children to sort through. No locals pounding at her door with complaints that if she’d only been faster to take down the last killer who’d stalked the town, she could have saved more lives.
She didn’t need anyone telling her that. The voice of guilt nagged her all the time.
A sudden shiver rippled through her, and she thought of Ms.Eula, the old woman who lived on the hill and who insisted that she heard whispers of the dead. As Ms.Eula would say, it felt like the quiet before the storm.
Stop being paranoid.The town deserved a reprieve and so did she. She’d even tried to make peace with her parents, Vera and Randall, for lying to her about her adoption all her life. After months of frostiness, she’d shared turkey dinner with them on Thanksgiving.
Now the season of giving was upon them – six days till Christmas. Hopefully this month would be peaceful, bring the town closer together, and restore hope to those devastated by the wave of crime that had plagued the area.
Deputy Shondra Eastman, Ellie’s coworker and friend, ducked her head into Ellie’s office, her black braid wrapped into a bun on top of her head. “I’m heading over to the square—working security for the Christmas pageant tonight.”
Ellie nodded. “I’m on my way. See you there.”
As Shondra left, Ellie tied her shoulder-length ash-blond hair into a ponytail holder, added a touch of lip balm, then grabbed her winter coat and tugged it on. Shondra kept trying to convince her to spruce up with a little more makeup, some eye shadow to accentuate her blue eyes, but Ellie was more of a tomboy than a glam girl.
Special Agent Derrick Fox was waiting at the door, casually dressed tonight in jeans and a dark-blue shirt that accentuated his bronzed skin, and they walked outside together.
This was his first time experiencing the holiday in Crooked Creek and she tried to see the small-town festivities through his eyes. Twinkling lights adorned all the storefronts and you could see the town’s Christmas tree lit up in the center of the square from the police department. Families strolled the sidewalks, where old fashioned decorations and a giant Santa sleigh added to the mountain charm.
Derrick worked out of the FBI’s field office in Atlanta, but the governor had instigated a task force to handle crimes in the area of Bluff County, which encompassed the small towns of Crooked Creek and Stony Gap, a few miles apart. At the governor’s insistence, Derrick was spearheading it, and Ellie and local ranger Cord McClain had worked with him. Last month Derrick had rented a cabin on the river here and traveled back and forth when needed.
In spite of the clear skies, a stiff wind ruffled her hair, hinting that rain might be on the way. Holiday music filled the air along with church bells as they crossed the street.
“Looks like a big turnout,” Derrick said as they strolled toward the town square and the covered stage. Tonight, as they did every year, the kids in town presented a show to highlight the holiday. In lieu of buying tickets, a donation box had been set up by the tree to collect gifts for the needy.
“It usually is.” She nodded at families and smiled at the children who were chattering about telling Santa the things on their Christmas wish list.
Last month, the tree had held prayer requests for Thanksgiving, cards collected by Emily Nettles, the thirty-something head of the local prayer group called the Porch Sitters. Now the tree sparkled with colorful Christmas tree lights that illuminated the paper angels on the limbs.
“What are the angels for?” Derrick asked.
“They hold requests from churches, charities and the foster system for toys and items to be donated to needy children and families, and to the children’s hospital. It’s a tradition in Crooked Creek.”
This year, Ellie’s mother Vera was coordinating efforts to ensure every child in need received a present.
Ellie spotted her near the stage talking to Emily, who’d organized the program tonight. In keeping with the theme, the kids were dressed in angel costumes, while the adults in the choir wore traditional caroler outfits. Ellie’s father stood by Vera and threw up a hand to wave, and she waved back.
Chairs were set up in front of the stage and were already filling up. “My sister used to sing when she was little,” Derrick said, his voice gruff.
Ellie squeezed his arm. “I’m sorry, Derrick. I know the holidays must be difficult when you’ve lost someone.”
He shoved his hands in his pockets as the wind stirred again, rattling the limbs on the trees as if ghosts of the past were whispering through the pines. “After my sister disappeared, my mother used to buy presents for Kim each year and put them under the tree, hoping she’d come back to us.” He cleared his throat, obviously still lost in the memory. “After we learned that she’d died, she donated them to a women’s shelter.”
Ellie swallowed hard.
A dark-haired little girl ran by, swinging hands with her friend. “I want a playhouse for Christmas,” she squealed.
“I’m asking Santa for a puppy,” the other child said.
Their excitement seemed to drag Derrick from his grief, and he smiled at the children as they giggled and pointed to Santa, who was taking his place on his throne. A photographer was set up nearby, preparing to capture the Santa visits, and two teens dressed as elves stood ready to hand out candy canes to the kids.
Emily stepped up to the microphone and tapped it to quiet the crowd. “Welcome to the Angel Pageant. Time for all our performers to meet in staging.”
