Page 7 of Winter Reckoning
Charlene kept humming as she found a home for the nutcrackers on the mantle. She might seem like nothing more than a high-energy intern, but the gauntlet said otherwise. There was more than meets the eye between this duo.
The tightness in my shoulders hadn’t faded. I stood at the window and waited for something to happen.
Nothing did. Not yet.
I broke down and took Charlene up on her offer for coffee. Steam rose from the cup, but by the time it reached my lips, it had turned frosty. Slamming them like shots, after the third cup, I almost felt human. Almost. I might have swiped a gingerbreadman from a plate with snowflake patterns. Did I eat them head first? Yes, and they were delicious.
Charlene appeared from the hallway with her coat over one arm and keys jangling in her hand. She pulled on her boots without unlacing them, giving a grunt with each success. She zipped her coat to her chin and wound a scarf around her neck twice before tucking the ends inside.
“I have some work I have to do in the shed,” she said, pulling gloves from her pockets. "If you two kill each other, leave me a note."
“Bad idea.” Did she understand they were under protection? Was I the only one here concerned with safety?
“You’re not in charge of keeping this operation running.”
“What operation?”
“Theoperation.”
I had removed my jacket, but I kept my boots on. Everything about this case felt off. Redline? Two charges who acted as if nothing was amiss? They didn’t question my being there, which meant they knew something was going on. I wanted to find who redacted that file and punch them in the throat.
“Let her go.” Nick looked up from the book he'd been reading and gave a slight nod.
“Walk out that door, and I can’t protect you.”
“Have you seen these?” She flexed, though her jacket hid every muscle. “Well, they’re there.”
Charlene grabbed a canvas bag filled with what appeared to be letters. Cold air rushed in before the door swung shut behind her. The latch clicked into place. Her footsteps crunched through the snow, fading as she moved down the trail toward the shed.
I made a mental note to check the small structure on my perimeter check. I wanted to shake her. When I finished cursing Charlene, I wanted to growl my disapproval at Nick. Ifsomething lingered outside, he had just given her permission to walk into danger.
I watched from the window. Her hand pressed against the wood to the side of the door. A palm scanner? The mystery of Whitetail Ridge continued. She slid inside, and the door shut behind her with a hiss. What I originally thought was a woodshed had turned into a possible answer to whatever was going on here.
With the snow falling outside, the silence in the cabin turned heavy.
Nick turned a page. The fire crackled. Business as usual.
Usually, I’d stand in the corner and become another piece of furniture. That’s when I knew who I was protectingandwhat I was protecting them from. I finally caved and sat on the couch. It wrapped around me like an oversized hug. No matter how much I wiggled about, I couldn’t find a comfortable position.
From this spot, I couldn’t watch Nick without being obvious. Instead, I focused on the fire. I had almost forgotten that tonight marked Christmas Eve. I had never been one to celebrate the holidays, but this year, Christmas came with the only gift that mattered. Tomorrow at closing time, I’d punch out of my last shift. As the flames danced, I tried to imagine what life would be like. I’d have all the time in the world… and not a thing to fill it.
When I checked my watch, I was surprised to see that forty minutes had passed since Charlene left. From here I could see the top of the shed. Maybe they were drug lords, and that’s where they cooked up the goods. Or maybe it’s where they stored their loot after robbing a notorious supervillain? Anything would be more believable than a cozy cabin in the woods.
Nick turned one last page before closing his book. He gave the cover a pat and a slight head nod. Had it been a thriller? A horror? No, I’m sure he read something about a struggling bakery and how the magic of Christmas somehow saved it.Setting it aside, he moved to the window, watching as the flurry of snow thickened.
"The storm should pass by tomorrow," he said.
I nodded.
That was it. One sentence. No follow-up. No explanation. Just a statement of fact delivered in the same even tone he'd used since I arrived. I could still count his sentences on one hand.
In the back of my head, I could hear Charlene’s voice, lecturing us on our inability to communicate. I had never been talkative. That’s why the Cap appreciated me. I traded words for observation. A keen eye meant she never had to explain herself. It also made me incredibly good at my job. I could see how this assignment would have torn at the others. The silence would have made Percy melt down.
“Good thing you’ve got a fire.” EvenIcould hear the strain as I forced out small talk.
“Always need a fire.”
I was thankful he couldn’t see the grin. Not because his words were amusing, but his effort mirrored my own. I suspected Nick was uncomfortable with pleasantries. He struck me as gruff, a man who spoke when he needed to convey information. Casually talking about the weather? It bordered on painful.
