Page 53 of Haystacks and Hoaxes

Aha!His gaze narrowed on an entry forClassic Christmas Carols.Pulling up the web channel, he tapped on the PLAYbutton. Sleigh bells jingled into the room, and a cheery chorus of voices started singing.

Dashing through the snow

In a one-horse open sleigh

O’er the fields we go

Laughing all the way. Ha ha ha!

Bells on bobtails ring

Making spirits bright.

What fun it is to ride and sing

A sleighing song tonight!

Mila shook her head at him. “Really, Rock?”

“Really, Mila.” He tucked his cell phone in the breast pocket of his dress shirt and crooked an arm at her. “May I have this dance?”

A reluctant chuckle slid out of her. “You want to dance to Jingle Bells? Who does that?”

He danced her way. “Us if you join me.”

“I know what you’re doing.” She made a face at him as she slapped her hand into his outstretched palm. “And it’s really nice of you, but—oh!” She gave a breathless squeal as he twirled her in a circle.

He spun her back in his direction and drew her closer, rocking in time to the rhythm and bells. “A week ago, I didn’t think I would ever do this again.”

Her expression softened with understanding. “You mean dance?”

“Yeah.” It was an after-Christmas miracle in the middle of a very trying morning. “Guess you inspire me.”

She tipped her head momentarily against his shoulder in the briefest of hugs. Then she started singing softly. “Jingle bells, jingle bells, jingle all the way.” She tipped herface up to his as the music continued to play. “This sounds like the same music mix Mr. Monty used to play at his Christmas festivals. He was a big fan of the classics.”

“The guy had taste.” It dawned on Rock that they were still speaking of the town’s most beloved farmer in the past tense. Since the sheriff’s department was currently investigating Monty Chester’s disappearance as if it were a missing persons case, it felt wrong. Not that anyone harbored any real hope of seeing him alive again. He’d been missing for too long. Statistically, the odds were not in his favor.

Sheriff Luke Hawling and his team of deputies had scoured every inch of Chester Farm and found no sign of life. The place had been stripped clean. According to Decker, who’d briefed their Lonestar investigative team after the fact, most of the farming equipment was gone. It was yet unclear what Troy Bentley had done with it, and Mr. and Mrs. Bentley were refusing to answer any questions about their son. According to one of Troy’s friends, he was out of town. Wherever he was, he wasn’t returning phone calls.

The Christmas song playing on Rock’s cell phone ended as he danced Mila closer to the sketch she’d given him for Christmas. Looking at it never failed to tug at his heart. Despite everything she was going through right now, she’d taken the time to draw something truly remarkable. And she hadn’t just scribbled something off the cuff. It was her finest work yet.

The sketch was a lot like the one she’d drawn during the final moments leading up to her interview at Lonestar Security — with one big exception. In the one she’d drawn for him, she’d brought Chester Farm back to life. She’d added the strands of Christmas lights back in, along withthe people, food, and festivities. It wasn’t as windy in the Christmas sketch, either, since the three puffs of smoke were drifting straight up instead of blowing sideways.

Three puffs. Exactly three puffs.He grew still as the music on his cell phone transitioned to Silent Night. “Why did you draw three puffs of smoke coming out of the chimney?” He kept one hand on the small of Mila’s back while he pointed out the detail in her sketch that had been nagging at him.

She wrinkled her nose as she thought about it. “I guess it’s because I saw three puffs of smoke coming out of the chimney. It was a windy day, so they disappeared right after they came out of the chimney. That said…” Her voice faded.

“But it was three puffs? You’re sure of it?”

She nodded. “It was definitely three puffs. It reminded me of the big blue caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland. I’ve always loved those enormous smoke rings he blew every time he spoke. When I was a kid, my mom bought me a bubble wand so I could blow bubbles while speaking to her to recreate that scene from the movie.” The mention of her mother made her features crumple. “Their plane should’ve landed by now, Rock,” she whispered.

“I know.” He reached for her hand and towed her toward the sketch she’d drawn right before her interview. “But what we’re doing right now is helping her more than worrying. Like you, I keep feeling that the answers we’re looking for are staring us in the face.” He parked her in front of the sketch that bothered him the most. Raising their joined hands, he touched the smoke coming from the chimney. “The thought occurred to me that exactly three puffs of smoke could amount to the universal signal of distress.”

“True.” She traced the puffs of smoke with their fingers. “In Morse Code, the universal signal of distress is threedots, followed by three dashes, followed by three more dots.” She shook her head. “But a smoke signal would look different.”

“You also drew exactly three puffs of smoke in the sketch you made me for Christmas,” he pointed out.

“Oh, wow! You’re right.” Her forehead wrinkled in puzzlement. “But the police didn’t find anyone at the farmhouse. No evidence that the fireplace had been used recently.” Her expression wilted. “Do you think I’m crazy, Rock?”

---