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“Making meth.”
“Living off-grid,” Damian corrected. “Without us, you’d have no leads on Pepper. We found him, and I gave him to you and Ed. That means you owe me.”
“I don’t owe you anything. Ed and I are staying silent–for now–on your activities in the woods.” Ben checked his watch. It was almost noon and they had about five hours of daylight left. “But just for this one time.”
Damian scoffed and led the way into the woods. “Whatever you say, J-Reb.”
Ben hated hearing his old MC name, but he wouldn’t allow Damian to disrupt his focus. Instead he passed Damian and pulled out his compass. “Shut up, Damian, and follow me.”
His boots crunched in the snow, which was much deeper here in the mountains, and his breath froze every time he exhaled. But each step brought him closer to saving Sophie. Each step brought him closer to going home. And hopefully he’d make it before Christmas.
5
At four o’clock in the afternoon, Sophie clutched her piece of paper, left the town hall, and hurried down the marble stairs. Because the town hall was next to the church, she had to dodge construction debris, firefighting equipment, and groups of first responders who were talking in groups.
Except for the burned-out bell tower, there’d been no other damage to the church. The fire hadn’t even touched the Christmas decorations on the church’s extensive grounds. While she was happy about that, she was also annoyed. So annoyed she was considering canceling the Santa parade.
Clara Mosby, who wore a red wool coat and had her hand on a stroller, sat on a bench outside the abandoned ice cream shop down the street. She stood when she saw Sophie coming toward her.
“How did it go?” Clara began pushing and pulling the stroller, as if rocking the baby inside to sleep.
“I got it.” She buttoned her black wool coat and held up the paper. “If you hadn’t come into the café a few hours ago, and mentioned I needed a permit, I never would have known.”
Clara shrugged. “Why do you think I pulled out of all the Christmas events?”
Sophie snorted and they began walking up the hill, along Main Street, toward the café. “My boyfriend is the town’s sheriff. I work for the mayor’s wife. And the town clerk comes into the café every morning for her chocolate croissant. But because I don’t have a Virginia driver’s license, I had to show her my lease, an electric bill, and a letter from Lily proving she employs me. I swear, Clara, when the clerk asked me if I’d had Lily’s letter notarized, I almost canceled the parade and walked out.”
Clara laughed just as a gust of wind blew off Sophie’s hat. She caught it, but shoved it into her pocket and let the wind take control of her long hair which was in a messy bun. Yes, it’d been that kind of day.
“I’m so sorry,” Clara said. “Leslie, the town clerk, can be difficult. I should’ve suggested you bring her Lotto’s gingersnap cookies. She loves them and they make a great bribe.”
Sophie glanced at Clara. She pushed her stroller with her blond hair tucked beneath a black beret and her cheeks reddened by the wind. Her smile brightened her hazel eyes, and she exuded an inner peace she craved. “Gingersnaps could’ve avoided two hours wasted at town hall.”
“Yes, but only Lotto’s gingersnaps.” Clara’s smile widened. “They dated once in high school, and I don’t think she ever got over him.”
“Oh.” She tightened her blue scarf around her neck. “If I’d known that, I would’ve sent Lotto down to get the permit.” She shook her head and chuckled at the ridiculousness of it all. “I still can’t believe I need a permit.”
“How much did it cost?”
“Ten dollars. Thank goodness I had the cash. Apparently, the clerk doesn’t accept credit cards after three p.m.” She paused near the door to the café. Now that she had the permit, she could laugh at the silly bureaucracies even small towns suffered under. “Are you coming in?”
“No.” Clara adjusted her gloves and gripped the stroller’s handle again. “But you took notes on everything we talked about?”
“Yes.” Thanks to Clara, who was a sought-after event planner, Sophie had a notebook full of suggestions and ideas of how to put this parade together in twenty-four hours.
“Remember.” Clara paused as a fire truck roared down the street. “You’re in charge. You tell people what to do. The people of this town can smell uncertainty from three valleys away. So whatever you do, don’t doubt yourself in their presence. Or they’ll run over you until you’re crying in the gutter. They only respect power and authority. Got it?”
She nodded and tried not to laugh. “Got it.”
“Good.” Clara pointed inside the café where Lotto was dealing with a line of people, taking notes, and Lily was making lattes faster than Santa’s elves. “Looks like you’re getting some parade sign-ups.”
“I am. Thanks to Lotto’s cookies.” Sophie paused, hating to ask for more help. “And the sleigh?”
“Jacob said he’ll bring it to the church before the parade begins.” Clara grimaced. “Although I’m not exactly sure what this sleigh will look like. I haven’t seen him all day.”
“I don’t care if Santa sits on the back of the trash truck.” Sophie pushed open the café door and went inside. “As long as it gets him up Main Street, I’ll be happy.”
Five hours later, Sophie left the café’s kitchen with a plate of brownies, surprised to see a teenage boy standing in front of the table where Lotto sat, writing in the notebook. Ever since returning from her permit excursion, she and Lotto had been signing up clubs and groups to walk in the parade.
