Page 13 of A Christmas Mystery

I laugh at her wording. “It’s more than intellectual, of course. It’s bugging me. I like this person, and I don’t understand why he won’t tell me who he is. I don’t like not knowing.”

“I can understand that. I’m curious too. But are you sure it’s not more than that?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you maybe having feelings for this person?”

I know what she’s asking. And it makes perfect sense to be asking me.

But I don’t know how to answer her.

“I didn’t mean to upset you,” she murmurs when I don’t reply for a minute.

“I’m not upset. Not really. But it’s not a simple question. I do have some feelings for this person, but they could mean anything. I don’t know enough about him to have any sort of well-defined feelings.”

“Of course you don’t. You’re still young, and you’ve healed after losing Chris. It’s natural to have feelings, and they currently don’t have a target, so maybe it’s become this person.”

“I think that’s probably right. I’ve been content. I really have. I think I’d be okay being single for the rest of my life. But that’s not what I really want. So maybe it’s loneliness and isolation that’s turned this random mystery person into... into someone I want.”

“That could be it. Or maybe there is real potential there. But I simply can’t see it going anywhere if the person insists on hiding.”

“You’re right. Of course you’re right. But I feel like I still need to know. Just so I can move on.”

Tee nods, thinking silently for a stretch of time until she finally concludes, “That makes sense to me. So I’ll help you as much as I can. Let me see the pictures of these people. Maybe the photos will spark more memories.”

We spend another fifteen minutes reviewing the pictures of the twelve remaining names on my list. I’m having a good time chatting with her and recalling every random anecdote I can to provide context for some of these guys when her eyes move over my shoulder.

“There’s someone who might be able to help us.”

Confused and surprised, I turn in my chair to look.

Theo Humphrey.

Of course it is.

He must have been in here for a while, eating with an unkempt guy in his early twenties. They are both standing next to their table, and Theo is shaking the other guy’s hand. They start to leave, but then Theo glances over to us and catches Tee’s eye.

He says something to his companion and walks over here as the other guy leaves the restaurant.

“Good morning,” he says, unsmiling as he reaches us. He’s focused on Tee, who gestured him over here. He gives me a couple of quick glances but nothing else.

“We need your help, Theodore.”

“We don’t really,” I murmur, embarrassed and shooting her a significant look.

She blithely ignores both the look and my words. “She’s trying to track someone down.”

“Yes, I know. She borrowed my yearbooks to conduct her investigation.”

“Oh, did she?” Tee arches her eyebrows at me. “Then have a seat for a few minutes and help us.”

“Tee,” I begin.

This time both she and Theo ignore my attempt to forestall his participation. He pulls out one of the extra chairs at our table and sits down. He’s dressed in khakis, an untucked button-up shirt, and a canvas jacket.

He looks good. More relaxed and casual than yesterday. He didn’t even shave this morning, and the stubble gives him a rugged look I’m not used to seeing on him.

He’s reached for the list on the page of my notebook, and he studies it wordlessly for a minute.

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