“I know you want to, Gilbert, but your arthritis has been acting up lately,” Chelsea rushed. “It would be better if you just let me do it instead.”

“I know by that tone that I can’t argue with you.” Gilbert let out a laugh and raised his hands in surrender. “I’ll clean up the glass shards.”

On some people it would sound friendly, but with Gilbert it didn’t quite sound sincere.

Then again, that was just Gilbert. There were two camps of people with him: those who abhorred the man’s every move, and those who fell for his act and practically worshipped the man.

That second group was probably the only way he’d been allowed to have so many foster kids in his home over the years. He knew how to impress the right people. Or maybe the right people just saw what they wanted to see when the details worked in their favor.

Those were questions for another time.

Gilbert handed him the shed key, and Tex headed out the back door, Chelsea on his heels. He didn’t really need her help. But she seemed eager to offer it, so he didn’t argue.

Outside, darkness hung around them and the grass crunched beneath his feet. It had been a particularly dry autumn, and now everything was brown and crispy.

He’d checked the forecast before he left, and meteorologists were calling for snow in a couple of days. There was nothing he loved more than a good snow.

He’d mostly been working out of Florida lately, and he was ready for a break from the humidity.

“Do you know anything about that brick?” he asked Chelsea as soon as they were out of earshot walking toward the shed.

“Why would I know anything about that brick?”

“Well, you live beside Gilbert. Maybe you’ve seen something.”

Something flashed through Chelsea’s eyes. For a moment, Tex thought she might share something.

Instead, she said, “I have no idea. Gilbert and I both work at the high school, but I really know very little about him. We run in different circles. He’s the athletic guy, and I’m into the arts. The two don’t often mingle.”

Tex wanted to press her more about it, but he didn’t. Not now.

Instead, he took the lock off the shed and threw the wooden doors open as he peered inside the space. Right away, he spotted the wood he could use.

As he grabbed it, he said over his shoulder, “You’re going to need to tell me why you were snooping in Gilbert’s office.”

He glanced at Chelsea in time to see her face go pale.

Now he was really intrigued.

Something was going on here, and he needed to find out what.

Chelsea’s heart pounded so hard in her ears the beat was nearly all she could hear.

Even as she held the wood up to the window and listened to Tex hammer the nails into it, all she could think about were his words.You’re going to need to tell me why you were snooping in Gilbert’s office.

Could he really force her? She supposed, if she didn’t fess up, Tex could tell Gilbert. But she could fess up and he couldstilltell Gilbert.

She hadn’t expected Gilbert to be here today. He was supposed to be at the school for an athletics meeting. She’d double-checked the schedule.

Finally, the wood had been nailed in place, and she and Tex stepped back to look at their handiwork.

“That will keep the wind out for a while,” Tex told Gilbert, who leaned in the doorway watching them work. “But you’ll definitely want to call about having the glass replaced.”

“I’ll do that.”

“It’s a shame,” Tex continued. “The house looks so Christmassy, and this is going to look like a bruise on the otherwise innocent spirit of Christmas.”

“At least it’s fixable,” Gilbert said. “It could be worse. Now, why don’t we try to put this out of our heads and sit down for a nice dinner together? I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to eat.”