Page 13 of Frosty the Biker

As if he was a little old man, he took the remote and shut the TV off. Then, he turned to face me as he rested one hand over the other. In the most matter of fact little voice, he said, “I see him like I haff a tee-fee in my eyes.”

“What?” I whispered.A TV in his eyes?

He cocked his head to the side, but he didn’t answer me. Instead, he asked, “What’s his name? I ask him, but he no tell me.”

After swallowing hard, I softly murmured, “Dalton, his name is Dalton.”

“Hmm, I like dat,” he announced, then turned the TV back on. I’d been dismissed. This kid.

What the fuck is going on?Needing to go back to work, I reluctantly got up and kissed his head. “I love you, Anson.”

“Luff you too,” he replied with a smile.

As I opened the door, he said something that stopped me in my tracks. “Time for us to be a family.”

A cold chill crept down my spine at the way his voice sounded. Way too old for his age and almost eerie. Pinching my nose, I shook it off and went back to the counter. Corky was putting the last of the decorations on the big tree in the front window. I loved Christmas so much. Maybe not as much as Valentine’s Day, but it was a close second. As a hopeless romantic, despite my lack of successful relationships, I think it was the feeling of love in the air, the candy, the colors, the flowers—all of it.

As I signed back into the register, three men entered the store. They all had suits on and two had trench coats. They didn’t look at all like they would be shopping in our store.

The one with the darkest hair approached me, while one entered an aisle and the other stood back a bit.

“I’m here to see Mrs. Buchanan,” he announced before I could ask what I could help him with.

“She’s not here. Is there something I can help you with?” I offered.

“No. This has nothing to do with you. Please give her this.” When he slid his hand into his jacket my heart kicked into gear and I have to admit, I was scared. My overactive imagination was waiting for him to pull a gun on me. Instead, he pulled out a legal-sized envelope and set it on the counter in front of me.

The office door opened and inwardly I cursed. Especially when I saw the way he studied Anson as he came up the hallway. “Go back in the office. I’ll be right there.”

“But Mommy, I have to pee.”

Shit.

“Okay, you can go, then go back to the office.”

“Okay, Mommy.” He padded back down the little hallway and into the staff bathroom.

When I returned my attention to the man, the calculating gleam in his eyes had the hairs standing up on the back of my neck. Then his attention returned to me. “Have a good day, Miss Buchanan.”

He turned on his heel and they all left like a little row of ants.

How the hell did he know who I was?

My gaze fell to the plain white envelope. It was fairly thick, implying there were several sheets of paper in it. When I picked it up, I could feel the quality of the paper. “What the hell?”

Mom had let it slip about two months back that she was having some health issues and that she was being harassed at the store. But she wouldn’t elaborate. That was when I started planning my move home.

I wondered if those were the guys that had been bothering my mom. I’d expected gang members or something—not three men in expensive suits that practically screamed mob. Unsure what was in the envelope, I placed it in the register drawer.

After that, I was distracted. There had been so many insane incidents this morning, I was having a hard time focusing. The day wore on and my mom hadn’t returned. I was glad she was taking some time for herself like I suggested. For lunch I ordered pizza for Anson, Ralph, Corky and myself.

When Holly got home from work, she stopped by and brought Anson upstairs to hang out with her and Daniel.

About an hour before closing, my mom came in and she looked worried.

“Is everything okay?” I immediately asked her, and her expression switched to her usual happy self.

“Of course,” she replied as she set her purse next to the register.

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