A Mistletoe Proposal. Rebecca Winters
With clipboard in hand, he walked across the street and interviewed the manager of the print shop. The smell of smoke still hung around, but he learned they hadn’t been affected by the fire. He returned to the truck where the guys were waiting.
None of the people interviewed could give any information regarding a possible arsonist. All had been gone from their stores when the fire broke out. The florist was still using one of the department fans.
Rick collected their reports and read Arney’s, absorbing the information on the Hansel and Gretel shop like a sponge.
Owner of the shop was Mrs. Valerie Bernard, fifty-three, who lived in College Hill, the most affluent neighborhood in Providence. Judging by the expensive items displayed, he wasn’t surprised. She was also the person Arney had talked to, because it was her signature on the bottom of the form.
The report stated there’d been no damage, but the smell of smoke still lingered. She didn’t think a fan was necessary. He called out to Arney. “Did you speak to any employees besides Mrs. Bernard?”
“No. She was the only one there.”
That made his mind up for him. “Give me a minute. The smoke smell is stronger on this side of the street. I want to check her place again. She might need a fan anyway.”
“Okay.”
He headed for the shop. When he entered, the Christmas chimes sounded. It was déjà vu. An attractive older woman with short blond hair stylishly cut who looked vaguely familiar to him was waiting on a customer, but she smiled at Rick.
He walked around, deciding the smell of smoke wasn’t that bad. As soon as the customer left with a package, he approached her. “Sorry to bother you again. I’m Captain Jenner of Ladder 1. I wanted to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind about wanting a fan.”
She gave him a pleasant smile. “No. It’s not necessary, but I have to tell you I’m mighty thankful you got that fire out in time to save the rest of us. Some of my inventory is irreplaceable. Even with the insurance, there are several dozen pyramids and signed nutcrackers that are original pieces, and priceless. They’re made in Germany.”
“I’m aware of that. I came in here yesterday with my daughter. She saw the gingerbread man in the window. While I’m here, I’d like to buy it for her.”
The woman frowned. “A gingerbread man?”
“Yes.” He described it. “It was sitting in a little rocking chair. I’d like to buy the chair, too. Maybe the items got sold. Then again, it’s possible one of your employees put those items away for some reason.”
“The only other person who works here is my daughter, Andrea.” Blood pounded in his ears. That’s why the owner looked familiar. He’d wondered. The more he looked at her, the more he saw the resemblance in the shape of her face and body. “She must have unpacked those items while I was gone. Give me time to check in back.”
She returned in a few minutes looking at a loss. “My daughter went out of town yesterday.” With her husband or a fiancé, maybe? Why in blazes did he care? “She’ll be able to explain. I’m expecting her back this afternoon. When she comes in, I’ll ask her what happened. If you call the shop after two, you’ll be able to talk to her.”
Rick knew exactly what had happened. She was planning to give them to Tessa for Christmas because she believed he couldn’t afford it. No doubt she’d hidden them away somewhere. “I’m afraid I’ll be on duty until seven. When I next have time off, I’ll call around. Thank you for your help. I’m glad your shop was saved, Mrs. Bernard. It’s a delightful place.”
“Thank you. It’s been in our family seventy-five years.” She walked him to the door. “If it weren’t for brave men like you, I wouldn’t have had a shop to open this morning. I’m very grateful and know the neighbors around here are, too. It was a pleasure to meet you.”
Now Rick knew why Andrea was so nice. Damn. “The pleasure’s mine, Mrs. Bernard. Have a good day.”
* * *
Andrea drove down the alley and parked the car next to her mom’s at the rear of the shop. She was glad to be home, even if it was closer to an hour later than she’d planned. There’d been a ten-car pileup on the freeway because of black ice. No one had been injured, thank heaven, but as a result the cars were lined up several miles waiting to get around the accident scene.
She’d also stopped at her favorite bookstore and picked up a copy of a gingerbread-man book with terrific illustrations. She’d loved it as a child. Another gift from Santa.
Pressing the remote that opened the back door, she entered and could immediately smell smoke. Her heart rate picked up speed. After putting down her overnight bag, she hurried through the office to the front of the shop. Her mom saw her and smiled. She was waiting on two teens buying some hand-painted wooden ornaments.
Until they left she couldn’t talk to her mom, so she went back to the office and sent an email to Casey. She’d promised to let her and Carol know she’d gotten home safely. There were several emails waiting for her to open, all of them from Gunter’s family.
Andrea decided to read them later except for one from Marie, whom she missed horribly. They were close to the same age and had a lot in common besides the fact that they’d both adored Gunter.
Her email was inviting Andrea to meet her and her husband, Rolfe, in the south of Spain after Christmas and vacation until the New Year. Would she please come? They would pay for her flight and would be staying with Rolfe’s friend at his villa.
While Andrea stood there contemplating the generous offer and idea, she could still smell smoke, and she lifted her head. Where had it come from? She was dying to know, but a steady stream of customers kept both her and her mother busy for a couple of hours. Finally they had a break. As soon as the front door closed, Andrea gave her mother a fierce hug.
“What was that all about, darling?”
“Because I love you. Because Casey and I had a long talk, and it made me appreciate you all over again for being the best mother in the world.”
“I could say the same thing about my daughter. I’m glad you got back safely.”
“Me, too. Now tell me what’s happened. Why is there that smoke smell?”
“The art gallery caught fire last night around ten when everyone had gone home.”
“You’re kidding!”
“I wish I were. There’s a possibility of arson. I was talking to Wally earlier. He said the firefighters saved as many paintings as they could, but some of the ones in storage on the third floor didn’t make it. We’re very blessed they got here in time to save the rest of the surrounding stores, including ours.”
Andrea shuddered. “When I think of the years you’ve put into this shop, and then to imagine a fire threatening everything... I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
“Don’t be silly. There wasn’t anything anyone could do. Life is a risk.”
Yes. But she’d never thought about it until she and Gunter had been broadsided by a man who was drunk. In a flash her husband had been snuffed out. “Casey and I came to that same conclusion last night.”
“Did you have a wonderful time?”
She bit her lip. “It was good to see her and Carol again, and we were able to make plans for the party on Christmas Eve, but the inn is up for sale, and Casey is very low right now. She hasn’t really gotten over her broken engagement. So to answer your question honestly, I’ve come home a bit depressed, but it will pass.”
“That settles it. After we close up tonight, you’re coming home with me, and no buts.”
“I’d like that,” Andrea said without reservation.
“Oh—before more customers