Page 19 of The Map Home
Officially, the craft market opened at ten, but there were already dozens of curious shoppers. Some vendors were still setting up and decorating their stalls, and there was an excited hustle and bustle in the air. After checking with their mom, he snapped an especially adorable photo of two little girls admiring the antique wooden sleigh set up near the tree.
Santa was nowhere to be seen, but his bag had been left enticingly open, and the girls were trying to guess what the wrapped gifts were and who they might be for.
“Nothing for Brody,” said the taller of the two. “He fed his dinner to the cat last night, and Mom stepped right in it this morning.”
“Gross!”
“She said the F word too. Maybe she won’t get anything from Santa either?”
Hearing the exchange, the mom rolled her eyes. “Kids don’t let you get away with anything.”
All Tad wanted from Santa was a tall, quiet, sheriff’s deputy with a wicked sense of humor that almost no one but Tad got to experience, who also—inexplicably—loved sausage, onion, black olives, and spicy salami on his pizza. Tad hated black olives with his entire heart. But he didn’t think he was going to get what he wanted, either.
The temperatures were cold, but the sky was clear and the city had cleared the streets of last night’s snow, making it safer for pedestrians and drivers. Holiday music played from one of the stores, adding even more holiday cheer—Tad loved it. This was his favorite time of year. Even better thanJingle Bellsfilling the air, Tad saw that CCs Coffee was open, although there was a long line. He needed a massive dose of caffeine but decided to wait until the line went down.
As he wandered along the square, he mentally picked out the spots he wanted to return to once more people had arrived. He also wondered if he’d run into Dakota doing his rounds—he hoped so.
Unfortunately, it was Curtis’s archnemesis, Honey Sweeting, who Tad spotted around the corner from Ellis Books. She appeared to be in a deep discussion with a dark-haired man he didn’t immediately recognize. Curiosity getting the better of him, Tad lifted his camera mid-chest and took a couple quick shots.
Honey didn’t notice Tad, but the man she was talking to possibly had. Darting a hard glance in Tad’s direction, he took off, walking quickly in the other direction. Tad stepped back, pretending to look at the selection of holiday books on display. A few seconds later, Honey came around the corner. Her paceslowed when she saw him, but she didn’t acknowledge him. Tad watched her reflection in the window as she made her way toward The Chronicle’s building.
What the hell was Honey Sweeting up to?
SEVEN
Dakota
Just how many Santa Clauses was a believable amount at one tree lighting ceremony? The question reminded Dakota of the classic “How Many Licks?” Tootsie Roll commercial Tad had discovered on the internet in high school and then forced Dakota to watch fifty million times while he insisted they should figure the count out for themselves. Kota still hated the things. He’d seen four Santas already, although two might have been the same guy. It was hard to tell with the fluffy white false beards in place.
Had he ever been gullible enough to believe in jolly Saint Nick? Dakota didn’t think so. He didn’t remember celebrating many Christmases when Ana was in his life. Maybe when he’d been very young, before ten? But after that, Ana had always had one excuse or another why they didn’t celebrate. Which—fine. Dakota didn’t really celebrate nowadays either, but as a kid, he’d liked the decorations and lights. Although going back to school and having to listen to the other kids talk about what they got had been difficult.
He’d just stepped out of The Wild Bunch Florist after checking to see if Marcy Auchler’s absence had been planned. The answer he’d gotten was, “Oh, she isn’t on the schedule until end of January,” which didn’t clear anything up. The person behind the counter couldn’t say if it was time off or just that she wasn’t needed. He was starting to wonder if it was possible that Marcy wasn’t really missing. Maybe Ms. Suarez was worried over nothing, but he figured he’d keep poking around until he found out for certain. He didn’t want to write her off the way his mom had been.
“Hi, Dakota!”
Penny Gillespie waved at him from across the street. She and Waylon were hefting plastic bags that Dakota figured were stuffed full with the teddy bears they were donating.
“Hold up,” he called out. “Let me help you out with those.”
“Oh, they’re not heavy, just awkward,” Penny said with a grunt.
“Because Penny had to buy every bear she could find over three states,” Waylon teased.
“I just don’t want anyone to be left out.”
Dakota grabbed one of the plastic bags from the back of their SUV. “Where are we taking these?”
“Over behind the tree and the sleigh. There’s a donation drop-off area.”
Dakota almost asked, “Which tree?” before snapping his lips closed. The. Tree. Duh. Waylon shot him an amused glance.
Behind the tree was the only empty storefront on the square. A banner hanging across the front read,Donate Today for Our Kids. Setting her bag down, Penny opened the door and motioned Dakota and Waylon inside.
“We can just put them down here. Waylon, take one of the bags and dump it in the wrapped box so Mayor Hobart has something to show off when Kandy Kane turns on the lights.”
“Will do.”
Dakota followed Waylon, watching him empty the bags into the gift-wrapped donation box before doing the same with the one he’d grabbed.
