The bitter cold stung my eyes as the tang of the ocean crashing against the rocks settled in my lungs.
The barn wasn’t far from the house, a big red structure with a loft and a few stalls. The way was lit with a million Christmas lights wrapped around the split-rail fencing and the mini arborvitae trees that bordered the path, but it was freezing, and that put some pep in my step.
Pulling out my phone as I pushed my way into the red door, I wandered over to my Nana. In case I haven’t mentioned, my Nana Karen is reincarnated in a reindeer’s body, and she’s a handful, to say the least. To make everything that much more complicated, on top of her shenanigans, she talks.
Leaning down, I kissed the top of her velvety soft head. “Evening, Nana. How goes your night so far?”
She reared her head upward and nuzzled my hand. “Well, it’d be better if you had some candy canes.”
I chuckled softly. “You know they’re no good for your digestive system, Nana. It’s not the same as a human’s anymore. Also, they’re high in sugar and Dr. Francine says no. So absolutely no candy canes.”
“Dipsy doodles, you’re a tyrant, Suzy Q,” she groused at me.
Smiling, I stroked her head and straightened the harness on her back while I grabbed her some feed to fill her trough. “Just call me head tyrant. Now, other than that, how are you? Warm enough?”
“I’m not the one we need to be worrying for here, kiddo. How’s Andrew and Monty?”
I looked up at the high ceiling and rasped out a sigh, the cold air puffing from my lips. “You heard?”
She bobbed her head and snuffed a snort. “Atti told me. Poor boy. Just found the love of his life and now this.”
I gulped and swallowed hard with a shiver. “Things aren’t looking good, Nana. Monty’s in surgery as we speak and Hobbs is with Uncle Darling, but I’m worried. I’m really worried about him,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’m trying to keep it together for him, stay positive, but I’m scared.”
“Hobbs’ll fix Andrew right up. He could fix up the Titanic, that hottie could.”
“Karen,” Atti scolded in his deep voice. “The child is trying to keep her wits about her while supporting poor Andrew, whom, I might add, is a bloody wreck. Surely you have something more to comment on than the state of Hobbs’s appearance.”
“Atti’s right. Shame on me. Sorry, sorry, sorry, honey. How can I help?”
Wrapping my arms around her, I gave her a tight hug she leaned into. “You can behave while he visits and we sort this mess out. That means no breaking out and running hog wild through town so I have to pick you up from animal control.”
She stomped her hooves. “Anything for you, Sunshine. Tell your old nana what happened, while I eat, why don’t ya?”
As I explained to her what Uncle Darling had witnessed and the details of Monty’s surgery, I felt a little better. Talking to her always eased my mind—even if we didn’t come to any conclusions or find any answers. It was just nice to be heard without the restrictions of leaving my magic out of the conversation.
When I was finished, she said, “Yee-haw, kiddo. A second murder in just a few days? What the heck’s goin’ on ’round these parts? Poor Gable’s wife and baby. Sure do feel sorry for ’em. You make sure you take somethin’ to her, will ya?”
“Of course I will, Nana and I’ll check to be sure they have enough to care for the new baby until she gets on her feet. Don’t worry.”
My phone buzzed again, reminding me why I’d come out to the barn in the first place.
“I have to call Stiles, Nana. But if you have any ideas about this mystery, you let me know. I’d welcome anything, because I’m fresh out.”
With those words, I pressed my BFF’s number.
Stiles picked up on the first ring. “Fitzsimmons,” he answered curtly.
“Hey, Fitzi. You okay?”
“I’m okay. How’s Uncle Darling and Monty?”
Tucking the phone under my chin, I grabbed the rake to muck Nana Karen’s stall and give her some fresh hay. “Well, you know Uncle Darling. Still as dramatic as ever, but this time, he has good reason, and Uncle Monty…” My voice hitched before I took a deep breath. “He’s not great.” I explained what the doctor’s said and that he was in surgery and, at this point, all we could do was hope.
There was a crackle on the phone line, a bit of static before I heard his deep voice say, “I have a question for you.”
His tone made my heart stop dead its tracks. I know Stiles almost as well as I know myself, and this was serious. “Okay, what’s up?”
“That lipstick you saw in your vision?”
Stopping in front of Nana’s stall, I stiffened. “What about it?”
“Where did you say you saw it again?”
Leaning back against the stall, I dragged a hand over my nana’s head and smiled at her. “The men’s bathroom at Feeney’s. Why?”
“Secret squirrel?”
That meant I couldn’t ever tell anyone, which was getting harder by the minute with Hobbs in my life. “I’m afraid to say yes, Stiles. You know Hobbs is in the thick of this, right? I already mentioned the lipstick to both Hobbs and Uncle Darling.”
“Then you have to tell them secret squirrel, too, because I could get into a stink pile of trouble for this, Hal, but if you have another vision about the lipstick or anything, I need to know,” he all but whispered in my ear.
I cocked my head, my stomach turning flips. “Stiles, we’ve been friends for a thousand years. I’d tell my secret before I’d tell one of yours. What’s going on?”
There was a heavy pause and then he said, “That lipstick had fingerprints on it.”
Blinking, I dropped the rake and inhaled with a sharp breath. “The killer’s fingerprints?”
I heard him sigh and probably cup the phone with his hand to muffle his response. “No. The fingerprints of a seventeen-year-old girl who’s been missing for three days.”
Oh, holy night…
Chapter 5
It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year
Written by Edward Pola and George Wyle, 1963
I gasped, realizing not only was the lipstick real, but that my vision had been more accurate than I’d first thought. “The fingerprints… Doesn’t she have to be some kind of criminal to be in the system?”
At least that’s what the explanation always was on one of my true-crime shows.
“She was in the system because of a background check for a position as a part-time babysitter. When I heard the forensics team did, in fact, find a lipstick and it had prints lifted from it, I asked what color it was, and it was for sure hot pink. Actually, it’s called Flamingo Flame, made by Christy of Paris, according to the label.”
I gripped the phone tighter, my knees shaking. “Do you want me to ask Darling anything else about it? He said it isn’t his. He claims he didn’t bring any makeup with him this trip.”
“He said the same thing to the cops on the scene.”
“Wait. Uncle Darling knew about the lipstick?”