Page 43 of Home for Christmas in July

Sage screws up her face in an apologetic expression.

“Nevermind that. What’s this about a strip club?”

Thyme sighs heavily. “Noelle said the clue directed her to a place called Dancing Ladies.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, it said something like ‘go to the place where there are lords a-leaping and ladies dancing.’”

I frown. “That does definitely point to Dancing Ladies.” But it feels wrong. “I’m surprised whoever set up the hunt used the same song twice. There must be a thousand Christmas carols to choose from.”

Sage nods in agreement. “That’s what Noelle said, too. She called it unoriginal and on the nose.”

“Hmm. Do you know where she is? She’s not at the desk.”

They exchange a look.

“That’s where she was the last time we saw her,” Thyme says.

“Maybe she went to look for the guy in the hat and sunglasses again?” Sage suggests.

Until this moment, I thought ‘my blood runs cold’ was just a saying. But, turns out, it’s not. My blood runs cold.

“Who?” My voice is hard.

They both rear their heads back and give me wide-eyed looks.

“Um, some guy knocked down this tile thing a little girl was building. Then he pushed her. She told Noelle he was wearing a baseball hat and pair of sunglasses. She’s been on a mission to find him,” Sage explains tentatively.

Thyme jumps in. “That’s why she opened the clue, Uncle Nick. While she was looking for the jerk, the envelope with the clue went missing. We helped her find it and begged her to open it. She wanted to wait for you, but we were pretty relentless. Sorry.”

I wave off the apology. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about that. I need to find her right away.”

Adrenaline pounds through my veins. It can’t be a coincidence that the man from the jewelry store turned up here. Or that the clue, at least temporarily, disappeared. Or that someone was in the woods. Or. Or. Or. My mind races.

I turn and look down over the railing to the first floor, swiveling my head until I spot Farah. I whip back around to my nieces. “I’ll see you back at the inn later.” I leave them standing there and take the stairs two at a time to the ground floor.

“Farah!” I shout as I run over to her.

Startled, she jumps. “Mr. Jolly? Is everything okay?”

I ignore the question. “Where’s Noelle?”

She smooths her headscarf with one hand and gives me a worried look. “She had to run an errand.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“No.”

She wouldn’t have gone to Dancing Ladies alone. Would she? Even as I have the thought, I know she would, and did. I have to go there. Now. My racing mind screeches to a halt as I remember that Noelle drove us into town. My truck is miles away at the fishing cabin.

I eye Farah for a moment. Then I say, “Can I borrow your car?”

It’s a big ask, but the teenager doesn’t hesitate. She reaches into her pocket for her keys.

“Sure. But, just so you know, it’s running on fumes. I was supposed to get gas on my way to work but there was a line, and I didn’t want to be late.”

“I’ll fill it up,” I tell her. “As a thank you.”

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