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“The sleigh is stored in the Fawkes’ barn.” Jacob stood and nodded toward Damian Fawkes who sat in the front row, near Lily. “Damian’s daddy has it.”
Damian’s face turned red. As president of the Devil’s Renegades, the town’s outlaw motorcycle club, he had a difficult relationship with everyone.
Damian stood and motioned toward Jacob. “That sleigh isn’t in my daddy’s barn.”
“How do you know?” Jacob shot back. “When was the last time you saw your daddy?”
“A few weeks ago.” Damian ran a hand over his short, black hair and nodded at Gage. “When his barn burned down after Thanksgiving.”
“What?” Jacob’s voice filled the rafters.
Gage banged his gavel. “Order.”
Ben shot to his feet. “What are you talking about, Damian? There was no fire—”
“There was.” Damian scoffed. “And there’s nothing left. If the sleigh was in there, it’s now ashes.”
Ben took out his phone and began texting. “Don’t leave after this meeting, Damian. We need to talk.”
Gage’s gavel hit the podium again. Once everyone was seated again, he said, “Having no sleigh is the least of our worries.”
Jacob raised his hand but spoke before being recognized. “My construction company will get us a new sleigh.”
“Fine.” Gage’s shoulders slumped as if tired. “Kingsmill used to offer thirty annual events to its visitors, until ten years ago when they stopped coming.”
“Because of the Devil’s Renegades.” Mr. Elmer’s voice dripped with disgust. “They ruined this town.”
Damian stood until Gage slammed his gavel down again. This time, the gavel broke in half and the handle flew off the podium. It bounced on the wood floor, stopping near Damian’s seat.
The room went silent, and everyone focused their attention on Gage.
He placed the gavel’s remaining piece on the podium and said, “Last year, when we decided to resurrect some events, we agreed to hold the Epiphany Christmas tree burning, the Valentine’s Day basket auction, and the Fourth of July picnic just for the town. Then we chose three we hoped would win back the tourists.”
“This is ridiculous,” Nana Ruthie said. “We voted to do the haunted house tour, the Santa parade, and the sunflower festival for the tourists.”
Ben squeezed her hand because that festival, which had occurred in October, was the reason they’d reunited after being apart for ten years.
Uncle Harry raised his hand. “What is your point, Gage?”
“We agreed the money in the event fund would be spent on the sunflower festival. Then the profit from the sunflower festival would pay for the Santa parade, including a coordinator to run it.”
Ben used his demanding sheriff’s voice to say, “We made ten grand from the sunflower festival.”
“Yes, we did.” Gage’s voice trembled. “Except the sunflower money is gone. And the Santa parade is canceled.”
2
Twenty minutes later, Sophie followed Lily through the front door of the Devil’s Renegades Cupcake and Coffee Café. It was a short walk from the town’s meeting barn at the lower end of Main Street to the café, but she was happy to slip inside since the snow and wind had picked up.
When Lily turned on the lights, nothing happened. “Power is out again.”
“I’ll check the circuit panel.” Sophie shook the snow off her hat, turned on her phone’s flashlight, and headed into the kitchen. “It might be a flipped breaker.”
“I hope so.”
She made her way through the dark kitchen, toward the breaker box near the walk-in freezer. The front of the café had picture windows overlooking Main Street and its street lamps, but the kitchen had one window in the pantry so it was much darker.
Lily had purchased the café from Harry Wakefield, after she’d returned from Paris where she’d been a renowned pastry chef. And a few months ago, when Sophie had arrived in town with no money or friends, she’d applied for a job in the café’s kitchen. Although Lily could make beautiful cookies, cakes, and pastries, Sophie had mastered the art of baked savories while working at a roadside diner outside of Salem.
