Page 13 of No Business Like Snow Business

Sterling’s gaze caught mine, and my face burned some more.

“Thanks.” He smiled, and then cleared his throat. “It seems like Blitzen’s employed every teenager in town. This is such a long shot, isn’t it?”

“Sure, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth trying.” I tilted my head. “I think it’s nice you’re doing it. Looking for Freddy. Though it does sort of seem like you have actual money.”

He raised his eyebrows.

“Your coat,” I said. “And your shoes. And your whole...” I waved my hand. “Everything. So, why aren’t you hiring a PI for this?”

Sterling hummed. “A couple of reasons. Firstly, I wanted to do it. It feels private, you know? Freddy’s story is...well, I want to know what it is. I want to find out what happened. I feel like maybe I owe him that? Or at least the family owes him that, and for now that means me.” He snorted. “And mostly because if Ididhire someone, I wouldn’t trust that my father wouldn’t find out.”

It was my turn to blink. “Um...okay?”

“My grandfather just died,” he said with a shrug. “Having Freddy turn up again would be extremely inconvenient to my father, his cousins, the board, and the shareholders.”

Wow.

So maybe boring Christmases weren’t the worst thing about Sterling’s family.

“Wouldn’t your dad be happy to see his brother again?” I asked.

Sterling paused, the edge of a newspaper sheet shivering in the air as he held it mid turn. “I don’t know,” he said at last, turning the page. “On the extremely long list of things my family doesn’t talk about, Freddy is somewhere near the top.”

“Wow, if a missing uncle is onlynearthe top, I can’t imagine what beats that.”

Sterling snorted and dragged his hand through his hair again. “You know. The usual scandals. Wearing white after Labor Day. That sort of thing.”

But his smile wasn’t as genuine as some of the others I’d caught from him, so I knew he was lying. I didn’t know him well enough to reassure him that he didn’t have to lie to me—we were clearly bound by the ethical code of the newly formed Fans ofTeenage Girl Amateur Detectives Club—but from the very little Sterling had said about his family, it was obvious he didn’t have much experience with sharing and caring.

“Oh, well no wonder,” I said. “Crimes against fashion are theworst.”

His smile grew.

We went through a few more newspapers from 1989 and ended up with two more names to add to our list of male Blitzen’s employees: Eric and Mike. Four names in total wasn’t a lot, and there was a good chance Cap Guy wasn’t any one of them, but this still hadn’t felt like a waste of time. Going through the newspapers was interesting, and gave us a picture of what Christmas Falls was like all those years ago. It also gave us a few names to throw at Bob Hanks tomorrow in case he needed his memory jogged. I’d gotten to spend a little longer with Sterling, and I wouldn’t pretend I didn’t enjoy that—and not just because I was a helpful research assistant. Sterling was handsome enough that stealing glances at him felt like winning a prize every time, but, more than that, we’d smiled and laughed, and I didn’t think I was the only one who’d noticed we had actual chemistry. Something crackled in the air between us when our eyes met, something electric and a little breathless, which was more than I’d felt on my last actual date.

I was actually disappointed when the alarm on my phone beeped, telling me it was time to go and pick up Grandma.

Sterling helped me restack boxes, and then I locked up the museum. It was almost seven, so the Arts and Crafts Fair had shut down for the day. The entire building was dark apart from the lights in the foyer, and quiet.

“Is your museum haunted?” Sterling asked as we walked toward the exit.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” I said. “But also, don’t turn your back on that creepy as fuck elf in the third room. He’s a horror movie waiting to happen.”

Sterling laughed, and we headed outside into the cold.

After I dropped Sterling off at his hotel, I swung by Fisher Street to collect Grandma. She must have been watching out for me since I texted her to let her know I was on the way, because as soon as I pulled up, she came out to meet me. She was looking very bright-eyed and pink-cheeked, and it wasn’t all holiday cheer, let me tell you. I’m pretty sure the ladies at quilting club liked a little something in their eggnog.

“How was quilting club?” I asked as we pulled away from the curb and headed for home.

“Lovely,” she said. “How was...whatever you were doing?”

“Fun,” I said.

“And what is it you’re doing again?”

“Helping a visitor out with a research project about the town,” I said.

“I know that’s not the whole story, Harvey Novak,” Grandma said, “but as long as you’re having fun, I suppose. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

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