Page 41 of Just Add Mistletoe

Bronson’s jaw was tight, but he didn’t say much.

“Well?” Malcom asked. “What’s going on? Where’s the money going?”

“I don’t know—it’s nothing I did,” he said, but his voice was strange-sounding.

“You’re the only one besides me with full access to the accounts. Unless Kari knows your passwords? Or Penny?”

It was a low blow to make the accusations, but Malcom needed answers, and Bronson’s reaction shouldn’t be so passive.

“You’re accusing mywifeof embezzling?” he asked, his voice rising.

“I’m not accusing anyone of anything,” Malcom shot back. “I’m asking questions. And if you don’t have the answers, then we need to open an investigation.”

Bronson’s face reddened. “You’re just trying to get more money out of this.”

“Out of what?” Malcom asked, confused.

“Penny told me you’re talking about leaving the company.”

Malcom frowned. He’d never said that to Penny. So how could she know anything? He rubbed at his forehead. He hadn’t said a thing to anyone—except for Lori. He’d emailed a few contacts over the past couple of months asking for some recommendations. The only way Penny could know any of that would be if she hacked into his email . . . which she could possibly do with his company account.

He stifled a groan. If Penny was hacking into his email, what else was she doing? Gripping his fingers together, he said, “I’ve been exploring the idea because eventually working twelve-hourdays is going to take its toll on me. I don’t even remember the last time I took a vacation. Or even a full day off.”

Bronson’s forehead creased. “If this is about your work hours, we can hire someone to help you with the load.”

Malcom jabbed a finger at the spreadsheets. “It’s about taxes being misreported and money missing. And now I find out that Penny has been sharing information from my emails—so I don’t know what’s going on here. But I guess it’s time to tell you that I’m leaving the company. I’ll stay on as a freelance construction manager for the condo project because I want that job done well, and efficiently. Otherwise, I’ll have my lawyer draw up the contract cancellation, and you can figure out the rest of the stuff. Because I’m not going to be liable for what’s going on behind my back in the company.”

Malcom didn’t know he’d made all of these decisions until they came out of his mouth. He pushed to his feet and opened the office door.

Bronson shot to his feet as well. “You’re being ridiculous. You can’t just make accusations like this, then walk out on me. We built this company together.”

Malcom was already halfway down the hallway, heading toward the front door, when he heard, “Bronson, what’s going on?” from Kari.

As he opened the door, he heard Bronson tell her in a hushed voice, “Don’t say anything more until he’s gone. He already knows too much.”

Malcom’s ears burned, but he continued outside and hurried to his truck. He had some phone calls to make.

THE WEATHER HELD OFF, JUST barely, which was fine with Lori. As long as it wasn’t raining, they could keep all of the booths and activities outside. She’d chosen her black-and-purple wig and added a silk scarf to her ensemble. Some years, she painted her face, but this year, she only wore heavy eye makeup. She had painted her nails black and added several spooky rings, along with necklaces and a pair of bat earrings.

The kids lined up at her table, where she read their palms and gave them wacky predictions, earning a smile and a laugh from them. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, and parents milled on the outskirts as their kids enjoyed themselves. The other carnival booths were also busy, and Lori hadn’t realized how late it was until Marci started to pack away the leftover prizes.

“It’s already nine o’clock?” she asked. Since it was a school night, they were shutting down earlier than the previous years.

“Yeah, can you believe it?” Marci said. “It’s hard to believe Halloween is basically over.”

The other vendors who’d brought booths started to clean up. By the time everyone had packed and hauled their stuff away, Lori was feeling how tired she really was. All she wanted was something warm to drink and her kitten.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Marci said, stifling her own yawn. She’d dressed as a scarecrow and had been dropping bits of hay all night. They’d have to sweep in the light of the morning tomorrow.

“Thanks for everything.” Lori was turning to head inside, carrying the final box, when she saw someone crossing the street toward the shop. She paused. “Malcom?”

He lifted a hand in greeting. “Hey, sorry I missed the party. How did it all go?”

Lori met his gaze. The man looked tired, yet here he was, asking after her event. “It was really fun. We had a great turnout, and the kids all seemed happy.”

“Great news. Can I carry that in for you?”

“I’ve got it. Besides, looks like you’re already carrying something.”

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