Snow started falling as Abby reached the bandstand and this time she did pull over and park. Vendor booths were scattered around behind the sloped green where Belclare residents enjoyed concerts and performances by the community theater. Santa Claus and his elves would take requests from ten to four. The Ferris wheel would run all day and into the night for the next three weeks, its colorful lights a beacon of holiday happiness.
She would not let anyone wreck that for the citizens she protected or for the tourists.
Getting out of her car, she enjoyed the utter quiet as big fat flakes caught in her hair and eyelashes. After soaking up the peaceful moment and letting it restore her battered nerves, she used her phone to take a few pictures. But she already knew the truth. The sick little cartoon from her email had been drawn up based on this year’s bandstand display.
Provided the tourists were brave enough to come out despite the troubles in Belclare, tomorrow this area of the park would be crowded with people enjoying the carnival atmosphere in this winter wonderland. And if everything went according to plan at the Christmas tree lot, they would safely enjoy the experience and have happy memories to cherish.
Satisfied she could pull off her plans, she drove home. Turning into her neighborhood, she passed house after house with decorated Christmas trees in the windows. She really needed to put up her tree.
It seemed every front window on her street sported a decorated tree. Calder’s window had a tree blooming with colorful lights and, without taking a closer look, Abby knew it would be sporting lengths of paper chains and macaroni garlands made by the excited hands of a happy child.
She pulled into her driveway and stopped her car next to Riley’s truck. He’d plugged in the lights for her outdoor display, but her empty window looked like the Grinch had come by. Even Mrs. Wilks and Riley had managed to decorate their trees today despite bombs, hospital visits and police reports.
There was nothing more she could do tonight to net the terrorist cell. She might as well get busy and pull down the artificial tree from the attic.
The light came on over Riley’s back door and she watched, mesmerized with the way his body moved as he stomped into his boots and slipped his arms through the red vest he always wore.
He walked up to her car and reached for the door handle. She hit the unlock button and let him open the door for her. “Such service,” she said, stepping into the cold air.
“I’ve been watching for you,” he said, a wide smile on his face. “You looked great at the press conference.”
The snow fell on his hair and shoulders, sparkling before melting.
“Thanks. Weren’t you at the hospital?”
“Sure, but they released me right away.” He held out his hands for her inspection, but she was looking at the scrapes on his face. “Just a few scratches.”
The criminals had called this a skirmish, but Riley’s face had taken a beating. She reached out, not quite touching the butterfly closures across one lean cheekbone. It was a miracle his eyes had been spared.
Riley turned his face and brushed his lips across her palm. “I have a surprise for you.” He walked backward toward his house, as if he couldn’t stand to take his eyes off her.
Feeling inordinately flattered by that, she felt herself smiling back at him. Until an echo of Gadsden’s voice intruded with the reminder that Riley might be working for the terrorists, too. “Why?”
“I need a reason?”
Everyone had reasons and agendas for the things they did. She didn’t want to cloud the moment with work and worry, but she didn’t want to be a fool if his handsome face hid a sinister purpose. “I guess not.”
“Wow. You must be tired.”
“Why do you say that?” She stepped forward, hopelessly drawn to him despite the risk. Maybe because of it. She told herself she was just anticipating the surprise.
“You gave up the questioning too quickly.” His eyebrows bobbed up and down. “I was kind of expecting an interrogation.”
“All right.” He’d opened the door and she had to follow through. “What are you up to?” Way to start strong, Abby.
He grinned. “Wait right there. Don’t move.”
“Uh-huh.” She folded her arms across her chest, hoping she wasn’t being a complete idiot.
He disappeared behind the house and worry clogged her throat when she heard a scrape and rustle. “Are you okay?” Should she go for her gun or just dive in to provide backup for whatever he’d encountered?
“I’m fine,” he called. “Stay put.”
Fine. “I saw Mrs. Wilks got her tree up and...” She lost her train of thought as Riley came back into view. Or rather, as an enormous, fresh fir tree came into view, propelled by Riley’s untied boots. “What’s that?”