Page 7 of No Business Like Snow Business

I might have warned Sterling not to get too excited, but I couldn’t stop the warm bubbles of anticipation flooding into my bloodstream at the thought of discovering Freddy’s boyfriend’s identity, and maybe even finding the two men themselves. I loved my job and my life here in Christmas Falls, but, let’s be real, it wasn’t very exciting. And now a real-life mystery had landed in my lap, courtesy of a handsome stranger, and, even better, it came wrapped around a love story. My chest ached for Freddy and his boyfriend, and I was desperate to find out that they’d gotten their happy ending. I tried to temper my expectations—it was a long time ago, people changed and grew apart, and maybe we wouldn’t even be able to find either of them anyway—but my expectations weren’t buying it. They werehyped.

“Christmas Falls is pretty small,” I said. “We could probably just ask around at Frosty’s and someone will know someone who knows Freddy’s guy. It’s that kind of a town. Everyone knows everyone else’s business.”

The corners of Sterling’s mouth pulled down a little and his brow furrowed. “I’d rather keep it as lowkey as we can, if that’spossible. If Freddy is still in the area, I’d rather he heard about me being here from me first, and not half the town.”

“That makes a lot of sense.” And honestly, it would be more fun doing it ourselves anyway. All those Trixie Belden books I’d read as a kid—they’d belonged to my mom—had trained me for this moment. Except Trixie had one thing I didn’t—a car. Sleuthing all over Christmas Falls lost a lot of its charm when I remembered the only wheels I had were attached to an aluminum frame. “So, Mary Kilmartin is one of the girls making cotton candy in that photograph. Do you have a car?”

“No. I—it’s a long story.” He wrinkled his nose. “Will we need one?”

“Probably. Mary lives out of town a ways.”

Sterling looked uncomfortable. “Do you have one?”

“I have a bike.”

“A motorbike?”

“No. One with pedals.” I thought for a second. “But my grandma will let me borrow her car. She has her quilting club this evening, but I could drop her off there and then come and pick you up. Like, assuming you aren’t like a serial killer and this is all just a cunning ruse to get me to go with you into the woods.”

“I didn’t even know about Mary,” he said, “or that she lived in the woods until you just told me.”

“That’s true. And we’ve been alone in this building for a while. You could have easily killed me by now.”

His expression was half amused and half horrified. I liked to think amusement was winning the battle, but I couldn’t be certain.

“I have a lot of spare time,” I admitted, “and I listen to a lot of true crime podcasts.”

I blamed that on Trixie Belden too. She pulled me in with the soft stuff—mysterious strangers, missing fortunes, andcriminals who weren’t quite evil enough to realize they could just shoot the plucky teen girl detective who got in their way—and before I knew it, I was hooked on real life mysteries. I was especially fascinated with the unsolved ones, and I’d always wanted to be the person who somehow cracked the case. Now, with Freddy Van Ruyven and his boyfriend, maybe I actually could be. And it wouldn’t just be solving a case; it’d be getting afamilyback together—how amazing would that be?

Sterling snorted, and then smiled and shook his head. “Sure. I mean, that would be great. As long as I’m not putting you out or anything.”

“Nope,” I said, warmth flooding through me. “Not at all. We’ll tackle this Trixie Belden-style.”

He gave me a skeptical look. “Trixie Belden?”

“Amateur sleuth? Girl detective? Co-president of the Bob-Whites of the Glen?”

The shake of his head told me he was not the Trixie type. “Whatever you say.”

“I say we tackle it Trixie Belden-style.”

This time he full-on laughed. And that felt way too absurdly good. “Okay.” For someone whose clothes and haircut suggested he was accustomed to getting what he wanted, he looked oddly bashful.

“I’ll see you this evening, then,” I reminded him, as though he’d forgotten the plan in the past five seconds.

Everyone deserved a Christmas miracle, right? And with my help, maybe Sterling could get one in Christmas Falls.

three

STERLING

Harvey arrived at The Pear Tree Inn a little before five. In reception, the Christmas lights were blinking on and off, and carols played faintly. I found myself humming along. I might have even tapped my foot. Then the automatic door rolled open, and Harvey stepped inside on a wave of cold air. He smiled when he saw me waiting, and I was struck by how cute he was. He had tousled dark hair, eyes that were either gray or blue, and a smile that was both effortless and gorgeous. He didn’t give off even a hint of artifice, something I might have distrusted in any other setting, but here, in this ridiculous town, it seemed to fit perfectly. Either the Christmas spirit was contagious, or I was so mentally and emotionally wiped after my grandfather’s funeral and all the subsequent bullshit with my family that I couldn’t be bothered to look for an ulterior motive in Harvey Novak. Maybe he was just helping me out because he was that sort of person? I mean, it was unusual but not impossible, right? Or maybe it was just unusual in the circles I was used to.

“Hey.” His cheeks were flushed with cold.

I nodded at the to-go cup in his hand. “Is that another coffee?” I hadn’t meant to sound as judgmental as I did. Hadonly meant to tease him a bit. Even though I didn’t know him, not really.

“Oh.” He sounded sheepish. “That was a hot chocolate I had earlier. So is this one, and it’s—for you, actually.” He thrust it forward. “I figured we need to keep our energy up for sleuthing. I got myself another one too. It’s in the car.”

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