Good Tidings (2 page)

“
Hi, Jenna, you called me?”

Patrice turned to see a teenager standing behind her.

“
Ron, did you help this lady?” the associate asked.

Patrice grabbed the associate’s arm. “No, the man that helped me was older. A grandfather,” she cried.

Ron shrugged. “I’ve been in the back working stock,” he said, “Sorry.”

“
Is there another Ron working here?” Patrice pleaded.

They both shook their heads. “Oh, God, my baby,” Patrice screamed, “They’ve taken my baby.”

“
Code Adam,” the associate called into the intercom, “All associates, Code Adam. Baby boy missing from the entrance area.”

The associate turned to Patrice, “I’m calling the police.”

*****

Mary O’Reilly tried to untangle the garland from the Christmas lights as she perched on the tall ladder in the corner of her office. “Note to self,” she muttered, “Never store the Christmas decorations quickly with the intention of going back and organizing them later.”

The new bell over her office door jingled over the Christmas Music playing in the small office, announcing someone’s arrival.

“
You know, if you organize them before you put them away, it’s easier to hang them the following year,” Stanley Wagner commented. Stanley was the seventy year-old owner of Wagner’s Office Supplies, the store next door to Mary’s office. Even though he was about four decades older than she, he was one of Mary’s best friends and a decided tease.

“
You think?” Mary replied, continuing to work on an impossible knot.

Stanley chuckled. “I recall that it was last year at about this time I made that same suggestion,” he said, rubbing his hand over his chin, “You said you were going to do it in the spring, when things slowed down.”

Mary dropped the garlands and lights back into the box on the floor and slowly climbed down the ladder. “No one likes a know-it-all, Stanley,” she said, “Besides, I’m a private eye, I like puzzles.”

“
Oh, so you wouldn’t be interested in these extra lights and garland we didn’t need next door?” he asked.

Mary turned and saw the large cardboard box in Stanley’s arms. “Lights and garland that aren’t conjoined?” she asked.

Stanley nodded. “They are actually in their own individual packages, saved from previous years,” he said.

Mary shot him a sideways look as she reached for the box. “Is that supposed to be a subtle hint, Stanley?” she asked, “Because it wasn’t subtle and it really wasn’t a very good hint.”

Stanley laughed. “Want me to give you a hand with these, girlie?” he asked.

Mary placed the box on her desk and opened it. On top of the layers of neatly packaged lights and garland was an obviously fresh bunch of mistletoe - berries and all. Mary lifted it out of the box. “What’s this?” she asked.

“
Well, no wonder this girl ain’t got no beaus, she don’t even know what mistletoe is.”

Mary shook her head and put it back in the box. “I know what mistletoe is, Stanley,” she said. “But this is O’Reilly Investigations. There is no place for mistletoe here.”

Stanley grinned. “Why sure there is,” he said. “Right over there, above the bathroom door. That way, if you get carried away, you can just scoot inside and close the door behind you.”

Mary couldn’t help herself, she laughed, “Stanley you are incorrigible.”

The door opened and the bell rang once more. Rosie Pettigrew, a successful real estate broker from down the street entered. Rosie’s white hair was covered with a stylish red beret which, in turn, was coated with a thick layer of snow.

“
Where have you been?” Mary asked, “Alaska?”

Rosie shook her head, snow flying around her. “It’s a blizzard out there,” she said, “and they’re calling for another six inches.”

Mary looked out the window and saw a thick blanket of snow covering her black 1965 MGB Roadster. “It wasn’t snowing a little while ago,” she said.

“
How long ago?” Stanley asked.

“
Well, I started detangling at about 7:30,” Mary replied.

“
Dearie, it’s nearly ten,” Rosie said. “And, if you don’t mind me saying, if you package up your lights and garlands back in their original packaging when you put them away at the end of the season, they won’t be tangled.”

Stanley covered his laughter in a cough.

Mary just smiled stiffly. “Thanks, Rosie, that’s good to know.”

Rosie walked over to the box and peered inside. “Oh, good, mistletoe,” she exclaimed, looking around the room, “I think it would work best over the bathroom door. That way…”

“
Yes, I know,” Mary interrupted, “If I get carried away, I can just scoot inside and close the door.”

Rosie looked surprised. “Well, I was going to say it would enhance your decorating scheme with a little green vegetation right in the center of the room,” she said, then smiled. “But a little hanky-panky time in the bathroom isn’t bad either.”

“
Good grief,” Mary said, her face turning bright red, “Can we just get our minds off the hanky-panky?”

Rosie shrugged. “You were the one that brought it up.”

Mary took a deep breath. “Let’s talk about the weather,” she suggested. “So, another six inches by tonight?”

Rosie nodded, “If it falls quickly and then the plows can get in, it will make a lovely setting for the Mistletoe Walk on Sunday.”

“
Yeah, nothing says Happy Holidays like dirty snow and slush,” Stanley grumbled.

The Mistletoe Walk was the annual Downtown Freeport celebration to open the holiday shopping season. It was held on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. All of the downtown businesses decorated their windows to reflect the theme selected by the Walk’s committee. Retailers offered store specials to encourage shopping in the downtown area. The Downtown Development Foundation offered horse-drawn sleigh rides, carolers and holiday snacks.

“
So, Rosie, is your window done?” Mary asked.

Rosie smiled. “Yes, I’m so excited about the theme this year,” she said, “
The Gift of the Magi
, is such a romantic story.”

“
It’s a story about bad communication,” Stanley grumbled, “And a waste of money. What are you gonna do with a watch chain and no watch or hair combs and no hair, I ask you? And how the hell are we supposed to decorate store windows with that kind of a theme?”
“I put up a lovely tree with garland that looks like gold chain and ornaments that are hair combs,” Rosie said, “It really looks festive.”

“
Who puts hair combs on a Christmas Tree?” Stanley asked, “Maybe Rhonda at the Beauty Shop, but hair combs ain’t gonna sell real estate.”

“
It’s not about selling real estate,” Rosie explained, “It’s about getting into the spirit of the season.”

Mary held up her hand before Stanley could speak. “Just warning you,” she said, “If you say ‘Bah Humbug,’ I’m going to find three ghosts, have them visit you and keep you up all night long.”

Ever since Mary had a near death experience, she had been able to communicate with ghosts. It was part of the deal she made when she chose to return to life. Her P.I. work tended to be more centered on those who had already passed beyond than on the living.

“
Well,” Stanley said. “If you’re gonna be mean about it…”

Mary smiled. “You can’t fool us, you softie,” she said, “I’ve seen you sneaking Christmas gifts into the back room of your store for months now.”

Stanley blushed. “Man can’t even do some shopping without every busy-body in town poking their nose in his business.”

Rosie giggled. “So, Stanley, what did you get for your sweetie?”

“
None of your beeswax,” he said, blushing deeper.

“
Hmmm,” Rosie said, “I did hear a rumor about you visiting the boutique and picking up some pretty fancy lingerie. I didn’t believe it until just now.”

Stanley stormed to the door. “Damn busy-bodies,” he growled.

“
Thanks for the decorations, Stanley,” Mary called as the bell jingled his departure.

Once he had walked away from the store, Mary and Rosie collapsed into a fit of laughter. “Oh, Rosie,” Mary said, wiping her eyes, “That was really mean. We should apologize.”

Rosie tapped at her flushed cheeks with a lace handkerchief. “Oh, I’ll apologize,” she said, with a sweet smile, “next year some time.”

She looked back at the box on the desk. “But, I didn’t mean to chase him off if he was going to help you.”

Mary shook her head.

“
No, really, not having to untangle the lights is going to speed up my process considerably,” she said. “I’ll be done by the time the plows clear the street. Besides, I really can’t do anything else until they get here.”

Rosie looked back out the window and shivered. “Well, I would stay and help you,” she said, “But William is driving over with his four-wheel drive pickup and taking me back to his place to wait out the storm. He has a fireplace you know.”

Mary grinned and wagged her eyebrows. “William, eh?” she said, “Didn’t you go to Rockford with him last week?”

Rosie smiled and sighed. “Yes. Yes, I believe I did,” she said, “And he was such a fine gentleman that I decided to let him have the pleasure of my company once again.”

Mary smiled and lifted the mistletoe out of the box and handed it to Rosie. “Perhaps you ought to take this with you,” she said, “You’ll probably get more use out of it.”

Rosie grinned, took the bouquet and placed it back in the box. “Some of us don’t need mistletoe,” she bragged, winking at Mary before she waved good-bye and made her way out into the deepening snow.

“
Show-off,” Mary called at her departing figure.

She looked at the mistletoe sitting in the box. “You are not going to be hung in this place of business,” she growled.

She took it out of the box, laid it on her desk, and then carried the box filled with untangled lights and garland to the ladder. As she climbed up the ladder, a new song began on the radio. Within a moment she recognized it. Frank Sinatra crooned, “
Oh, by gosh, by golly, it’s time for mistletoe and holly.
”

“
Shut up, Frank,” she muttered, as she pulled a string of lights out of the box.

*****

After hanging the first set of lights on her bare wall, she realized that Rosie was right - she needed something more to add to the decor. But that something was not going to be mistletoe. She made a call to Deininger Floral Shop and explained her dilemma. Within a few minutes the downtown floral shop delivered a box of fresh evergreens ready to be hung.

Two hours later Mary climbed down the ladder and surveyed her handiwork. The lights and garlands were now wrapped around long-needled evergreen swags.

She took a deep breath and let the scent of Christmas fill her lungs. There was nothing like the smell of fresh evergreens. The mellow sounds of “Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas” filled the room and Mary felt a little homesick, even though she had just been with her family in Chicago for Thanksgiving the day before. Accompanied by Kenny G’s saxophone she sang along, “Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more. Through the years we all will be together, if the fates allow. Hang a shining star upon the highest bough. And have yourself a merry little Christmas now.”

The jingling of the doorbell instantly halted Mary’s solo and she turned to see her newest visitor.

A young boy, about six years old, stood just inside the door. He shifted awkwardly as he held her gaze and took a deep breath.

“
Can I help you?” Mary asked.

He nodded. The sprinkling of freckles across his nose did nothing to lessen his sober expression. “Do you do real people stuff?” he asked. “Not just ghost stuff?”

She motioned to the chair at the other side of her desk, while she sat behind it and pulled out a paper and notepad. “Yes, I work on investigations that involve live people too,” she said. “I used to be a police officer.”

He settled himself on the chair and met her eyes. “That’s good, right?”

She nodded and held back a smile. “Yes, it’s good,” she said. “My name is Mary O’Reilly. What’s your name?”

“
Joey,” he said. “Joey Marcum. I need you to find my brother.”

“
He’s lost?” she asked.

Joey shook his head. “He got took,” he said. “Some bad people took him…today…at the store. My mom’s really sad.”

“
Has she called the police?” Mary asked. “Do they know?”

Joey nodded. “Yeah, they know, but they ain’t gonna be able to do much. They said they don’t have much information to go on.”

“
Joey, the Chief of Police is a friend of mine and he’s very good at what he does,” she said. “I know he’ll do his best to find your brother.”

“
Yeah, probably,” Joey said. “But my brother’s only three months old and my mom’s freaking out. I figured you could help too… then there’s more people looking.”