Page 227 of A Merry Mountain Christmas

“Is this your house?” Glenn sneers.

“No,” Jace says, “but it’s not yours either. And right now, there’s a very scared six-year-old boy sitting in his cool-down tent, and your yelling is only making things worse.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” Glenn demands. He releases his hold on the wall, leaving the kitchen and taking several shaky steps toward Jace, obviously trying to rile him, but he stumbles a little, which underplays the delivery. “Don’t you try to tell me how to raise my son!”

“He’s no longer your son,” I say, following Glenn into the dining room. We’re getting closer to Jace. “Now, I’ve already told you to get out. I’m very sure Dottie didn’t invite you in—”

“I did not,” Dottie interjects from the opening to the kitchen. “You haveveryred energy, I’m sorry to say, and not the good kind. I noticed it at once.”

“That means you’re trespassing,” I finish. “Leave, or I’ll call the police.”

“You expect me to leave my son with this white trashcriminal?” Glenn says, stepping out of the dining room into the attached living room. But he’s beyond foolish if he thinks he can rile Jace by going after him. No, he could only do that by going after Aidan and me.

Jace takes a step back.

“Jace has learned more about him in one month than you have in six years,” I say tightly, stepping toward them. “Youneverwould have thought to bring him to his cool-down tent.”

Glenn scowls. “You’re goddamn right. It’s like I said—you’re coddling the kid, Mary. You’ve made him into a sissy.”

Something snaps in Jace, and he grabs Glenn’s shirt. “Don’t youevertalk about that boy like that again. He’s fuckingamazing. You don’t deserve him. He’s too good for you.”

“What?” Glenn stammers. Then he glances at Jace’s hand clutching his shirt, and victory lights his eyes. “You assaulted me! I’m going to press charges!”

“He wrinkled your shirt,” I say. “Andyou’re trespassing.”

Jace releases him, and Glenn stumbles a little, lifting a hand to his head. That confused look passes over his face again, but he’s not done. He intends to rile Jace into doing the very thing he’s accused him of. “It’s my word against yours,” he says. “Who do you think a jury will believe? An upstanding businessman or an ex-con and his whore?”

The look on Jace’s face suggests he might be seconds away fromactuallyassaulting Glenn, but I shake my head, and he clenches his jaw and stands down.

Glenn’s brow wrinkles, and he staggers a little on his feet. “I feel strange,” he says.

“Were you drinking before you came here?” I ask, baffled. I’ve seen many sides of Glenn—cold, detached, self-righteous, and angry—but he’s never acted like this.

“Interesting,” Dottie says, and I glance up to see she’s followed us into the living room. “I had no idea it would work so fast.” She removes a little notebook from her pocket and writes something down with the attached pencil.

“I’m just…I’m going to lie down on the couch for a minute,” Glenn says, and he stumbles over and does just that, barely making it to the edge before he sprawls onto it, face-first. He doesn’t move, although a sound that’s somewhere between a snort and a snore escapes him.

Jace and I exchange looks of shock, because honestly, what the hell just happened? One moment, Glenn was threatening to ruin us, and the next he’s taking a snooze on my couch?

I span the short distance between us, and he wraps me up in his arms, his scent engulfing me and filling me with comfort.

“Is he asleep?” I ask in his ear. “I’m trying to figure out how much to freak out.”

He gives me a squeeze and then pulls back and pokes Glenn, who stirs slightly before settling again.

“This is truly a breakthrough, my dears,” Dottie says in obvious delight. “I couldn’t be more pleased.”

That’s when I make the connection. When we arrived, Glenn was drinking some sort of tea.Dottie’stea.

“Dottie,” I plead, turning to look at her. She’s still scribbling, a wide smile on her face. Surely she wouldn’t be this excited about homicide. “You didn’t poison him, did you?”

She tucks the pencil into its loop on the notepad and looks up at me with wide eyes. “Now, why on earth would I do that, dear? It’s much better to let unpleasant people sow their own misfortunes. No, no. His energy was very red, like I said. I’ve taken to bringing my tea kit everywhere—you can’t imagine how many times it’s come in handy!—and I made him a calming herbal blend.” She tucked the notebook back into her pocket and clapped her hands. “It worked better than I could have dreamed!”

He didn’t get the fight he wanted, true, except now he’s asleep on my couch, which means we are several steps farther away from getting rid of him. Plus, if he figures out what Dottie did, he can claim that he was drugged, even if nothing in Dottie’s tea was harmful.

Jace slides an arm around my waist. “We could dump him off at his hotel…if we knew where he was staying.”

It’s then a knock lands on my front door. I throw a wild-eyed look at Jace, my what-ifs working overtime. What if Glenn was so certain his little plan would work that he arranged for a police officer to show up? What if they find Glenn passed out on mycouch and assume the worst? (Okay, Dottiedidgive him some sort of sedative, so they wouldn’t be fully wrong.)

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