Page 65 of The Thief Who Saved Christmas

“Autism,” he says. “I don’t feel bad telling you because it’s not a secret.”

“I don’t really know what that means,” I admit. I’ve heard the word, of course. Everyone’s heard the word, but I’d never paid it much attention. Then again, that’s a common thread of my life—Ryan, not paying attention to anything.

I make a mental note to sit down and do some research.

“Her brain works differently,” he says with a shrug. “It’s why she shuts down sometimes and can’t handle crowds. She can be sensitive to sound and touch.”

I think this through and decide I’ve found another reason to dislike Weston and her father. My rage is a red fist, pounding on the inside of my brain.

“Weston knew all of this and he still proposed to her in front of a crowd, outside?”

Joe lifts his eyebrows. “I know, right?”

“And now he’s coming for her B&B? We need to vanquish the asshole.”

He laughs and takes his hot chocolate over to the couch. “And you say you don’t have a thing for her.”

I don’t respond to that, because I have no real response. Instead, I join him on the couch. “Have you rented a truck?”

He glances at me. “Not yet. You’re really going to help me move my stuff?”

“Sure,” I say, “but an inspector’s coming by the inn Monday morning, and I have somewhere to be on Wednesday afternoon. You’ll want to be done by then, anyway, though.”

“Tomorrow would be good. The sooner, the better. I don’t like the thought of leaving my treasures around Craig when he’s in a mood.” He cocks his head. “What have you got going onthis Wednesday? I thought you were here on some extended vacation.”

I grin at him. I know he’ll appreciate this. “I don’t like sitting around much. I have a trial run for a temporary Santa Claus gig.”

He gives me an up-and-down appraisal. “You’re teasing me again, aren’t you? There’s no way someone’s hiringyouto play Santa.”

“I don’t need yet another person insulting my acting skills.”

He still thinks I’m messing with him. I can see it in his face as he purses his lips and says, “Where’s the trial run?”

“Are you going to try to steal my job, partner?”

He laughs and shrugs out of his fuzzy blue coat. “No, man. I don’t want sticky children pulling my hair and shouting in my ear to get them presents. No, thanks.”

“You love Christmas, but you don’t like children.” I shake my head, smiling at him. “Doesn’t compute.”

“I didn’t say I dislike children. I said I don’t want them tugging on my hair or shouting in my ear. Sugar is a powerful drug. Do you have a suit?”

“Yeah. I picked one up this afternoon. Will you help me practice? To be honest, I don’t have any idea what I’m doing, and you and Anabelle are Christmas experts.”

Grinning, he pushes his glasses up. “Uh, yeah. I definitely want to see you as Santa Claus.”

“Hold that thought.” I get onto my feet, leaving the shopping bag with the cat and the games.

Joe glances at his big duffel bag pointedly, and I laugh as I hoist it onto my shoulder. “Yes, Joe, I’d be thrilled to carry this upstairs for you.”

“You know…” He beams at me. “You’re already Santa Claus to me.”

I whistle as I walk up the stairs, feeling pretty good, although I’d feel a lot better if Anabelle came back from her parents’ place.Maybe Cynthia knows where it is? I could scope it out, see if I spot Weston through the window, and if he’s there…

If he’s there, there’s no way I’m not getting her out.

When I step into my bedroom, I slap the bag down on the empty bed and then get changed into my Santa suit, which is much too loose until I stuff a pillow into it. The wig and beard look ridiculous, but maybe Joe will be able to fix it or tell me where to get a more convincing getup.

I’m almost done when I hear footsteps on the stairs. I about trip over my own feet to get to the door, but when I open it I only see Lauryn and her son Ben, the guests in Room F.

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