The worst part was that other than a few reporters she didn’t recognize, most of the folks who’d showed up to watch the press conference in person were lifelong residents of Belclare.
In the days following the drug bust, she found herself looking twice at people she’d known for years. Wondering what was going on behind closed doors—or worse—closed minds. It didn’t help that she saw the same dark curiosity in the community as people looked at each other. And at her.
It seemed common sense and yet support was too much to ask for these days. Even Peg had been nearly hostile about the recent problems and potential economic fallout. The department received more calls every day from concerned citizens sure the various outsiders helping with the Christmas Village were causing the trouble. Soothing those worries was only dragging down morale at the station, but she didn’t know how to turn things around.
Abby had to admit, in the quiet of her car, that she wasn’t very accepting of the few people who were offering support to her and her department. It seemed business owners like Peg were siding with Mayor Scott’s opinion that she’d gone too far and put everyone’s livelihood in jeopardy. Deke had probably saved opening weekend, but that didn’t get her off the hook. The mayor clearly wanted her to do more to smooth the ruffled feathers.
At the light, she debated driving up and thanking Deke personally. But knowing how much he valued his privacy, she headed home instead. No sense alienating him, too, just because she wanted a shoulder to lean on. And though he’d invited her to dinner once more when the media had dispersed, he’d done enough for her today.
Thoughts of Deke’s shoulder slipped right out of her mind as she turned onto her street. Her neighbors had been busy while she’d been sorting through threats, suspects and a frightening lack of witnesses. Christmas lights outlined roofs and shrubs; lawn ornaments featuring scenes from reindeer pulling sleighs to gentle nativities glowed on snow-dusted lawns.
But the gas lamp posts in each yard... Wow! Who had managed to get all of the neighbors to do that? Parking in her driveway, she got out of her car and admired the effect of wide red and white ribbons that turned each lamp post into a candy cane. Even hers. Happiness washed over her that whoever had come up with the idea had automatically included her. The effect was unifying yet neutral enough that it didn’t fight with the individual displays each family preferred. Belatedly, she noticed that even the tall generic streetlights at each end of the block were similarly decorated.
With the heart of Belclare becoming a Christmas Village each year, the residential areas joined in, too. It was a friendly competition within each neighborhood. Exhausted or not, she needed to get her own yard decorated before her neighbors gave up on her.
It had been smart to avoid dinner with Deke, and not just for his protection. She needed a hefty dose of something normal. With a smile for her decorated lamppost, she turned to face her house, thinking about what she could get done tonight. Deep down, part of her was still turning over the puzzle of who had broken into her garage and planted evidence.
The troubling thought had her whipping back around to have another look at Calder’s house. The lights were up across the roofline and draped over the shrubs. While many homes on her street went with white lights, for the past three seasons Calder and Libby deferred to their young daughter and created a colorful display. The inflatable snow globe was new, as was the Santa Stop Here sign on the chimney.
Calder couldn’t have done that. She’d visited with him in the hospital at lunchtime and the doctors didn’t plan to release him before tomorrow. Libby was pregnant. Abby sighed. She supposed another neighbor had stepped in. Not surprising.
“You like it? I thought the stop sign was a nice touch.”
Riley O’Brien had rounded the front corner of Calder’s house. He gestured to the tiny white icicle lights dripping prettily from the roofline. He’d wrapped the front windows with wide ribbon as if they were packages. That trademark grin spread across his face. The sleeves of his flannel shirt were rolled up. He held a tape measure in his hands and his tool belt slung low across his lean hips. He looked exactly like the carpenter he claimed to be.
Realization dawned on her. “This is all your doing, isn’t it?”
He shrugged one shoulder. “I finished work early. I was bored.”
She surveyed Calder’s house again. The view was safer than staring with fascinated interest at her new neighbor. “Tell me you had help.” After last night, she didn’t like the idea of anyone working on a ladder alone. Not so close to where she lived anyway.