Page 87 of Christmas Mittens Murder

“Cheesy popcorn.” Franklin held up a bulging paper bag. The front of his dark vest was dusted with a yellow powder.

“And candy canes!” Arthur’s face was already tinged with pink. He showed me a candy cane almost an inch in diameter. The end of the hook was already sucked down to a point.

“Good job,” I said. “Did you thank Mrs. Flaherty for hanging out with you?”

Arthur, his candy cane back in his mouth, nodded.

“Yes, but she told us to call her Cam,” Franklin said. “Besides, don’t you know the title Mrs. is archaic, Auntie Cee? Its only purpose was to define a woman by her married status, and that’s silly. Now we have Ms., which is much better.”

“You’re right. Thank you for the history and language lesson.” I pushed up to standing. “Did Cam teach you that?”

“No, Gran did, a long time ago when I was nine.”

His earnest face about did me in.

“Do you have more shopping to do?” Cam asked me. In an aside, she whispered, “Are you okay?”

“No to shopping, yes to okay. Tell you later.” I took in a deep breath and let it out. “Shall we hit the road, geysers?”

Arthur began to skip away. He froze and whirled. “But what about visiting Santa?”

“Daddy’s going to take us after he gets home,” Franklin said. “Don’t you remember? He told us before he left.”

“Maybe.” Arthur resumed his skipping, high on sugar.

Franklin opened the popcorn bag and offered it to me. “Want some?”

“Not right now, thanks.”

He munched as he hurried to catch up with his twin, the twin I was really glad hadn’t glimpsed his idol, Coach—and juggler—Torres looming over me wearing an angry expression. Or Artie’s sort-of rescuer from an hour ago, the then-kindly Otto, recently transformed into a furious and suspicious threat.

“What went down out here, Cece?” Cam asked. “I thought you were, like, taking a breather. Next thing I know you’re moving fast away from two angry dudes with close ties to Val.”

“Yeah. It got a little scary there for a minute.” I told her what they’d been saying and about my failed attempt to muffle three involuntary sneezes. “They closed in and accused me of eavesdropping and incompetently investigating.” I gave a laugh, but it ended up a choked sob. “Both actually true.”

“Hey, now. We’re making progress. And the day is young yet. Take a deep breath in, and when you exhale, let out all the negativity and toxic feelings.”

“You sound like a Californian.” But I did as she advised. And it worked. For now.

Chapter Nineteen

By two-thirty, we’d all eaten sandwiches, and Allie was back. Having taken charge of her children again, the candy canes were safely locked away. The boys were upstairs in their room playing Minecraft. Cam had headed out to visit a farmer she’d read about.

“Did you sell the house?” I asked my twin over a cup of mint tea in the kitchen.

“We got four great offers. The market isn’t as hot as it was, but this is a good property. It’ll go for at least asking price, if not above.” She took a drink of her own tea. “Did the youth behave themselves this morning? Thanks for hanging with them, by the way.”

“I love doing it. They behaved, mostly.”

“What did the younger one do this time?”

I told her about Arthur listening under the tent wall to Rafael and Quan.

“Whatever Artie heard seemed to terrify him, and he took off running. I found him safe under the historical complex information table. I crawled in there, too, and comforted him until he was ready to come out. I think he’s fine, but I haven’t tried to learn what he heard.”

“Coach Torres and the detective? Yikes,” Allie said.

“My only thought is that Quan mentioned you, and Artie was scared you’d go to jail—or worse.” I decided to keep what had happened at the fair with me and Otto and Rafael to myself for now.

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