Page 56 of A Pen Pal for Christmas

Besides, my butt had been firmly planted in a chair for the second night in a row, and I didn’t mind one bit.

Joan was glad for the new arrangement, too. She’d practically clapped her hands when she realized she could book the now-empty room. People were always looking for last-minute vacancies at the inn, and now she had one to give. It was a win-win, if I’d ever seen one.

“Hey,” Sofia said, literally nudging me out of my thoughts by bumping her shoulder into mine. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“I don’t know. You look so… focused.”

“Maybe I am focused—on not walking into anyone,” I said, proving my point as I dodged a woman carrying a massive wreath in her arms. “The square’s packed today.”

Her lips quirked, but she didn’t press. I liked that about her—she knew when to let something slide.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I fished it out, glancing at the screen. “It’s Tommy. Hang on.” I answered with a quick, “Yeah?”

“Got something for you,” he said. “We found the guy Dane argued with in the parking lot.”

I moved a few steps away from Sofia, holding up a finger to let her know I wouldn’t be long. “Who is he?”

“He’s a security guard on the graveyard shift,” Tommy said with a heavy sigh. “Works for the plaza over there. He told Dane he couldn’t park there overnight. They argued, Dane left.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Seriously?”

“Yep.”

“Doesn’t help us much,” I said, glancing toward Sofia. She was watching a kid press his face against the toy store window, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Anything else?”

“Not unless you wanna know the guy’s usual coffee order,” Tommy said with a huff. “Pretty sure I learned that, too, by accident. This town, I swear.”

I let out a low laugh. “I’m good, but thanks.”

“Later,” Tommy said, and the call ended.

I pocketed my phone and walked back to Sofia, shaking my head.

“What’s up?” she asked, her brows lifting. “Was that Tommy? Did he have any news?”

“Nothing helpful. The guy Dane argued with that night was just a security guard. Told Dane he couldn’t park there overnight. Dane lost their argument and bailed. End of story.”

She stared up at me. “That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Her head tipped back, and she let out a long groan. “So… all that gossip made us think it was a clue, but really they just made a mountain out of a molehill?”

“Guess so.”

She threw her hands up. “Of course they did. Why wouldn’t they? And no one noticed he was wearing a dang security guard uniform?”

“Guess not,” I said with a shake of my head. “Small towns.”

“I swear, if someone sneezed on Main Street, by the time the game of telephone was done it would probably turn into someone losing a fight with a snowblower.”

I chuckled at that. “Well, at least now we know it’s a dead end. We can move on.”

“Move on to what?” she asked, her tone exasperated but not entirely without humor as we walked around the giant Christmas tree in the square.

The sound hit us first—a sharp, authoritative shout of “Quiet on set!” followed by a chorus of footsteps crunching on what sounded like snow but definitely wasn’t.

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