Page 13

Sorenson shook Olivia’s hand with a smile. “You, my dear, are incredibly talented. Great job.”

“Thanks. I’m glad you both like it.”

“It’s a masterpiece!” Mrs. Sorenson beamed. “Exactly what I had in mind.Thank you,Olivia!”

Back on the road with a lovely feeling of satisfaction, Olivia turned the radio up. And sang along with the mushy Christmas songs all the way back to Red Falls.

???

“Damn weather,” Grace muttered under her breath. “Surely it’s too early for this crap.”

And for the tired old Christmas songs playing on a loop on the radio as well! She switched it off and tried to settle her mood. The rental company at the airport had tried to set her up with a Tesla. She refused. Then, she argued and threatened when they told her that nothing else was available. Eventually, they produced a Ford Ranger with adequate snow tires. Now, she could drive on snow just fine… But she missed her Ferrari. Grace went straight from the airport to the hospital, only to be advised that Mrs. Sheridan had already been released. Nobody had bothered to keep her updated, which was no big surprise but still pissed her off some. The cardiologist was in the middle of a triple-bypass surgery, so Grace could not speak to her. And everyone else who had treated her aunt was currently off-shift. At least they’d let her go, so she must be okay.But if she is, why didn’t she call me?Grace made her way to her aunt’s house next, determined to find out what was going on. She parked on the street, stalked to the front door, and pressed the doorbell button.Glancing up to the corner, she was glad to find the door cam she’d had installed blinking green. Despite her protests that she did not require any of, ‘this kind of insane technology’, Charlie was using it. Grace smiled in affection and anticipation, though it faded rather quickly when a woman she did not know opened the door instead of her beloved aunt.

“Hi. Can I help you?”

She sounded right at home there. And boy… Grace blinked at her clothes. Well-worn work boots, loose jeans riding low on her hips, a white t-shirt, and the obligatory plaid shirt made her look like the front cover model of Butch Magazine. If there was such a thing, of course... But Grace suppressed a snort. All that was missing to complete the look was an axe slung over her shoulder. Did the woman attempt to look like a lumberjack? As she returned her gaze, nice and steady, it also occurred to Grace that she was extremely beautiful. Glossy dark hair, attractively short and windswept; a round, intelligent face; and sparkling chocolate-brown eyes, currently busy taking her in.Checking me out,Grace realized. She felt instantly annoyed at the realization, even though she was used to women looking at her that way, and had been doing exactly the same thing.

“Who the hell are you?” she inquired sharply.

The stranger raised an amused eyebrow. “I’m Olivia. And you?”

“That’s none of your—”

“Grace!”

The woman named Olivia shifted aside at the happy shriek behind her. In the next instant, Grace found herself embraced by a pair of warm, tight, familiar arms.

“Charlie—”

“Oh my goodness, child! You are here! Why didn’t you tellme you were coming?”

“I tried to reach you at the hospital, but I guess no one told you.”

“Nope.”

“I left a message on your cell, too.”

“Oh, I think it’s probably dead.”

“Yeah. So I thought I’d just get over here and talk to you in person.”

“That’s my girl. Razor-sharp efficient as always.”

“Hmm.” Grace fixed her with an assessing gaze. “Why do you smell of freshly baked cookies?”

“Well, because I was baking some, of course.”

“Christ, Charlie. Didn’t you just have a heart attack?”

“Yes, dear, but it was only a minor one.”

The small woman with snow-white hair tied loosely at the back of her neck was dressed in gray sweatpants, thick slippers with tiny white reindeer over them, and an oversized Boston Bruins hoodie. Though she eyed her with a beaming smile, as always, Grace could see that she was pale, and her blue eyes lacked their lively glint. Her high-energy relative usually looked a lot younger than her seventy-five years of age… But not today, and it was a startling reminder for Grace that her aunt would not always be there.

“You should be resting,” she declared.

“That’s what I told her too,” the dark-haired woman stated with a smile, and Grace shot her a look.

“Olivia volunteered to take Jerry for a walk with her own puppy. She was just about to make us both a cup of tea, so now you can join us. Oh, Grace… I’m so glad you’re here.”