Chapter 11

  In the morning, it occurred to Lacy that her father might be the provider of her mystery locket. Like with Tosh, she didn’t have to beat around the bush with her dad, and she asked him as soon as she saw him at breakfast the next morning.

  “Dad, did you buy me a locket for Christmas?”

  “To be honest, honey, I have no idea,” he said, looking up in surprise from his piece of coffeecake. “Your mom buys all the presents and puts my name on them. Sorry to disillusion you.”

  “That’s okay; I sort of knew that already. I was just checking.”

  He nodded, returning his attention to his cake. Lacy sat across from him and cut her own generous serving of cake. That left only Jason, but for some reason she didn’t want to accept that the necklace was from him. Maybe it was because the inscription was so direct and personal that it left no doubt about his feelings. Though, if he really intended to tell her he was in love with her, why would he do it in locket form? The locket was beautiful and thoughtful, but the anonymity left a bad taste in her mouth. If someone really loved her, why not come out and say it? Unless there was a reason he couldn’t. But what could that reason be? Did she have a secret admirer in prison? Travis flashed in her mind when she thought of the jail, but he wouldn’t send her a locket. They had already discussed and ruled out the possibility of them dating. At five years her junior, Travis was too young.

  Thoughts of Travis led her to remember she had to deliver Jason’s present. “Dad, what are you doing today?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” he said. “Unless you count finishing the book I started yesterday. Do you need something?”

  Lacy nodded. “Can you come with me to deliver a present to one of my friends?”

  “Sure,” he said.

  “We’ll sort of have to break into his house and he’s a cop. Is that a problem?”

  He blinked at her. “Uh, I guess not. It’s been a while since I was last arrested. Could be an adventure.”

  “He won’t arrest us,” she said. “He’s the type to shoot first and ask questions later, so we have a better chance of winding up dead than in jail.”

  “Oh, good, something to look forward to then.”

  They shared a smile over the table. “When do we get to meet this man?” her father asked after a few minutes of silence.

  “Don’t you remember Jason?” she asked. “He was the quarterback my last couple years of high school.”

  While her mother had been more interested in making sure Lacy looked presentable and watching Riley cheer, her father had actually immersed himself in the game, becoming a big fan of their high school football team.

  “Jason Cantor?” her father said.

  “Dad, your incredulous tone stings, it really does,” Lacy said.

  “It’s just that you’ve never really gravitated toward the athletic type. You’ve always seemed more interested in the artsy types.”

  “Yes, well, Jason and I are just friends.”

  “Jason Cantor, and he’s a cop now. Wow.”

  “If you want, I can get his autograph,” Lacy offered.

  Her dad laughed and cleared their plates from the table. “All right, I’ll simmer down my enthusiasm. It’s just that he always reminded me a bit of myself when I was his age. Did I ever tell you I played quarterback?”

  “You did?” Lacy asked, feigning innocence. “If only you had mentioned that before. I don’t suppose Mom was a cheerleader, was she?”

  “Ah, the merits of a sarcastic daughter. I had almost forgotten what it was like to live with one. Thanks for the reminder.” He ruffled her hair. “Ready to get this show on the road?”

  “Let me call Travis and make sure we’re a go,” Lacy said. She dialed Travis, who told her the key had been obtained with the help of about half the force who was curious as to what Lacy was planning.

  “We’re all hoping it’s something bad,” he said. “Just so you know. Like a huge prank or something.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but I’m not really the pranking sort. It’s just a Christmas delivery that I’d rather not do in person. Thanks for this, Travis. Do you want your usual coffee order?”

  “Yes, please,” he said, sounding enthusiastic. “I’m on hour fourteen of sixteen. Coffee makes everything that I had to go through for this key worthwhile.”

  Lacy smiled as she tucked her phone in her pocket, grabbing her purse and linking her arm with her father on the way out of the house. Her father drove, which was good considering she still didn’t own a car. First they went to pick up Travis’s coffee, and then they drove to the jail. Her dad scanned the place through narrowed eyes.

  “You come here often?” he asked.

  “More often than I would like, yes,” she said.

  “I’m coming with you,” he said, hopping out of the car and quickly catching up with her. She introduced her father to Travis as she gave him his coffee and Christmas present.

  “Aw, Lacy, you didn’t have to,” Travis said, though his overjoyed smile told him he was glad she had. “I didn’t get you anything.”

  “Sure you did, Travis.” She held up the key. “Thank you so much. I owe you one.”

  “You owe me more than that,” he said.

  She laughed. “True. It doesn’t bode well for me that you’re keeping track. Merry Christmas.”

  “Merry Christmas,” Travis called as Lacy and her father walked back outside. She had just finished tucking Jason’s key in her pants pocket when she heard him calling her name.

  “Lacy!”

  She and her father paused, turning toward the door in time to see Jason sprinting through. “What are you doing here?” he asked, stopping short in front of her. “Don’t tell me someone else you know is in jail.”

  “I was bringing Travis a Christmas present,” Lacy hedged. “Jason, this is my dad, Clint Steele. Dad, you remember Jason Cantor.” Her smile was teasing, but she didn’t mention her father’s previous adoration of Jason.

  Clint threw his daughter a knowing smile as he held out his hand to Jason. “It’s nice to meet you, Jason. I don’t believe we ever had the privilege when you were in high school.”

  “No, sir, your daughter was too stuck up to talk to me then. It’s only lately that she’s lowered her standards enough to mingle with jocks and other riffraff.”

  “You’re working all day, right?” Lacy asked, ignoring Jason’s teasing and her father’s amused chuckle.

  “Twelve hours,” Jason replied. “But I told you I would try to stop by your party tonight if that’s what you’re worried about.”

  She was more concerned that he would stop by his own house. “Is it busy today? Have there been a lot of calls?”

  His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he searched her face. “What’s up, Red? You’re acting weird.”

  “Even for me,” she finished for him.

  “Especially for you,” he said.

  “Not a thing is up, Jason. Don’t be so suspicious on Christmas. And be careful, please.” She lightly touched the button on his pocket, remembering he had once told her holidays were dangerous because so many people used the day as an excuse to drink as much as possible.

  “I’ll be careful if you’ll stay out of trouble,” Jason promised.

  “What do you mean? It’s Christmas Eve. What trouble could I find?”

  “Let’s not tempt fate by asking that question, okay, Lacy?” Jason said as her father chuckled again. “It was good to meet you, Mr. Steele.”

  “Call me Clint,” her father commanded. “And it was nice to meet you, too, Jason. I hope you can make it for the party tonight.”

  “So do I,” Jason said. “See you, Red.” He reached out to give her waist a squeeze, and then turned and jogged back into the building.

  “So that’s what you call friendship,” her father said when Jason was gone. “Things are beginning to make a lot more sense now.”

  “Dad,” Lacy intoned, feeling like a teenager again.


  “What, Lacy? I’m your dad, I’m not blind. What’s really going on between you two?”

  “Nothing,” Lacy said. “I promise. We’re friends, and we have a slight attraction to each other.”

  “Like a moth to a flame,” her father said. “I’m not sure either of you even knew I was standing there even though I was doing my best to put out the overprotective father vibe.”

  “Dad,” Lacy said again, laughing. “Stop it. He and I are friends.”

  “Are you friends like this with the other one? What’s his name, your grandma’s pastor?”

  “Tosh and I are very good friends,” Lacy said. “He’s probably the best friend I’ve ever had.”

  Her dad shook his head. “Here you are in our tiny hometown, getting caught up in love triangles and murders. I think I would prefer you to move back to Manhattan. It was safer and less exciting.”

  “Dad,” she said, shoving lightly at his arm. He caught her around the neck in a loose headlock and planted a kiss on her cheek.

  “Are you happy here, little girl?” he asked when they were in the car, his tone turning serious.

  “I…” Her first instinct had been to say no. How could she be happy in her crummy little hometown? But then she realized she was happy. She had her grandparents, whom she adored, as well as Tosh and Jason who kept things interesting. “I am,” she said with confidence, surprised by how much she meant the words.

  “Good. Stay that way. And stay away from boys.”

  “Even Jason?” Lacy said. “It sounds like he’s your dream guy.”

  Her father shook his head. “I told your mother I wanted sons,” he muttered. “The woman never listens to me.”

  Lacy laughed and spent the rest of the afternoon laughing as she and her dad bought the necessary supplies before breaking into Jason’s house.

  “Are you sure a single man lives here?” her dad asked when they walked inside the sparkling clean house.

  “I know, it’s disconcerting, isn’t it?” Lacy agreed.

  “I can tell you for sure that my house wouldn’t look like this if I didn’t have your mom to nag me about cleaning up.”

  Lacy nodded, but the words were a reminder that not everything in her world was perfect. Something was up between her parents; she could feel it. But it was Christmas Eve, and she didn’t want to dwell on it today. Instead they set up the tree she’d bought, sticking it in a lone corner of the room. Lacy unfurled the tree skirt and they strung lights and ornaments. When that was finished, she set a few presents under the tree, knowing it would look lonely without something underneath. Knowing also that Jason would be uncomfortable if she bought him too much, she instead made the tree his big present, bought him some stocking stuffers, and set out some toys to be donated to a charity for kids whose parents were in prison.

  “There,” she said, stepping back to look at the tree in satisfaction.

  “Looks good,” her father said, resting his arm on her shoulders as they admired their handiwork. She decided to leave the tree plugged in, knowing at some point Jason would drive by his house and notice the lights. They were lucky he hadn’t driven by already and noticed the strange car parked in his drive.

  “We should get out of here,” Lacy said. “He could come home at any moment, and I wasn’t quite kidding about the gun.” They hurriedly cleaned up and hustled outside, feeling very cloak and dagger at having pulled off their surprise.

  “Why did we do that?” her father asked as they were driving away.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why didn’t he have a tree already?”

  “Jason doesn’t have the best relationship with his parents. He doesn’t talk about it, but I think holidays are painful for him. He lost a brother when he was little. It’s sad; he’s basically all alone in the world.”

  “Not so alone. He has you, and you really care about him, don’t you?”

  “Yeah, I do,” Lacy said resignedly. At the very least they were friends, but friendship wouldn’t quite explain why she couldn’t seem to get him off her mind.

  “Lacy Cantor,” her father teased.

  “Dad,” she said, responding with appropriate embarrassment.

  “You’re right,” her father said. “I suppose I should reserve judgment until I meet the other one. Tish, was it?”

  “Tosh,” Lacy said, knowing very well that her father remembered his name. “So much for remaining neutral.”

  “I’m Switzerland,” her father said. “Whoever you choose to be with is your decision. Just so long as he played quarterback at some point in his life, I couldn’t care less who you marry. Of course, pastors have high divorce rates.”

  “Dad,” Lacy exclaimed. “Tosh is great, and you’re going to love him. If you don’t, I’ll buy you breakfast the day after Christmas.”

  “Deal,” her father said, holding out his hand to shake on it. They shook, and he let her go, pointing to a restaurant on his left. “There’s where I want to go for my breakfast.”

  “So much for neutrality,” she muttered, turning to stare out her window with a sigh.