Page 25 of Home for Christmas in July

She takes a breath before reaching into her pocket to pull out an envelope. “So the note, it wasn’t a note so much as … well, here.” She hands it over.

I unfold a small map and study it. It’s not to scale, but the layout of the businesses in the town square looks about right. “It’s a map of the town.”

“Yeah, and the surrounding area.”

“I’ve never seen this map before. It’s not the one that the Chamber of Commerce hands out.”

“I don’t know where it came from either, but it’s on my list of things to look into.”

I point to two hand-drawn numbers. A one marks the inn, and a two designates the Snowflake Cafe. “Were these here?”

“No, I drew them. There was a note in the envelope marked Clue Number 1.”

“A clue?” I echo.

“I think it’s a scavenger hunt. I found the first clue at your inn, so I marked the spot with a one. The clue led me to the coffee shop where Delphina had another envelope.”

“Clue Number 2?”

“Clue Number 2,” she confirms.

“What did Delphina say about it?”

She blows out a long breath, ruffling the hair that frames her face. “She said it came in with an order of coffee beans at the end the summer last year. She was supposed to hold it until someone came in asking for it. She tossed it in a drawer and forgot about it until I showed up today.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t either. Not really. But that second clue led me here.”

“To my fishing cabin?”

“Well, to the lake.” She fishes a small note card out of her skirt pocket and gestures for me to take it from her.

I scan it. “The seventh day of Christmas. Which one is that?”

“Seven swans a-swimming,” she tells me.

“That’s why you were at the gazebo overlooking the lake.”

“Right. It’s the best swan-watching spot I know of. But I didn’t find another envelope. Then I thought, well, the first clue was at your home. Maybe the third clue is here.”

I consider this. “You can’t see the swans from in here.”

“I know. That’s why I was down at your dock. But I didn’t see anything there.” Her expression flattens. “Then I got spooked and took off. Anyway, maybe the clue isn’t about the swans. It could be the community swimming pool.” After a long pause, she says, “Like I said the whole thing is silly.”

It is silly. But it’s also the sort of game guaranteed to pique her interest. She loves puzzles, riddles, and mysteries. Whoever set this up knows her—and has access to my attic. I hand the clue back to her.

“Maybe the girls are behind this. I could see them thinking you’d have fun solving a little mystery.”

Her eyes spark and she admits, “I am having fun with it. But your daughters seemed as surprised by the envelope as I was. Either they’re better actors than I realize or they don’t have anything to do with it. Honestly? I don’t think I need to know who created it. It’s harmless fun, right?”

It seems to be, but my brain snags on something that stops me from saying yes. “Probably,” I allow.

“Anyway, thanks for the water. I should go. I’ll come back and look for the clue in the morning when it’s light out.”

She starts to stand, and I place my hand on her arm to stop her as I realize what’s nagging at me. “Don’t.”

“Why not?”

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