He chuckled. “Just can’t make assumptions these days.”

“Whatever,” I said, crossing my arms. “I don’t like her.”

He cut the engine and pulled the key from the ignition. “No. You don’t like that she told you to back down. Which, by the way, I’ve also been saying.”

“I’m aware,” I said, frowning at him. “But what exactly is she doing? I mean, she hasn’t been back to talk to us and I certainly haven’t seen her around town, talking to the people I’ve been talking to.”

He reached for my hand. “I’m sure she’s doing whatever she’s supposed to be doing. Like her or not, she’s a detective and I’d assume a competent one since the town employs her.”

I shook my head and turned to the window. All of the lights in the house were on. That was standard operating procedure when we were out at night. I was pretty sure the kids thought hitting every switch in the house would keep them safe.

I turned back to Jake. “So do you think I should knock it off?”

“I’ve already given up on that.”

“I’m asking seriously.”

He threaded his fingers into mine. “Do I think that going around and asking questions to try and find out what happened is the best use of your time?” He shook his head. “No. I don’t. But I also know it’s kind of driving you nuts and that it’s not exactly your thing to just sit back and relax.” He smiled. “And that’s why I’m not going to bang my head against a wall telling you to knock it off.”

He leaned over and kissed me and thoughts of the detective and the investigation evaporated. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close and he kissed me harder and I wondered how I’d gone twenty years without being kissed the way he kissed me.

I pulled my mouth away from his. “The kids are going to come out,” I whispered. “And scream that we are making out.”

“Let them,” he said, kissing me again. “We’ve heard it before.”

We stayed out there for a few minutes, kissing, until my phone started vibrating. Reluctantly, I pulled away from Jake and took the phone out of my purse.

It was a text from Will.

Calling the police.

Why?

Car in driveway. I can’t see who it is. Might be robbers. Or worse. When will u be home??????

We ARE home.

???

We are the car in the driveway!!!

Why r u out there? It doesn’t look like u.

Jake and I are making out.

GROSS!!! But I will call the police back and tell them not to come.

“We have to go inside,” I said.

“Why?”

“Because Will called the police.”

“What??”

I continued. “And is now calling them back to tell them not to come—because he mistook his parents making out in the driveway for robbers,” I said.

Jake leaned his head back against the seat and laughed. “At least they would’ve known the address.”

TWENTY NINE

The sun was out early the next morning and the frigid winter winds had once again subsided, which meant I could actually send the kids outside to play without fear of them dying from exposure. The winter had been especially cold, even for Minnesota, and they’d started to go stir crazy having to find ways to entertain themselves indoors. Even Will, who was almost always content camped out in front of his computer, had bemoaned the fact that winter was the only season we’d seen for months.

They foraged for their snow pants and jackets and were out the door as soon as they were done with breakfast, rummaging through the garage for shovels and sleds, intent on tricking out the bobsled track they’d built earlier in the week.

Which meant I had an empty house that I could attack.

I didn’t love housework. But I needed something to take my mind off of Olga and Helen and Elliott and the cast of characters who’d suddenly taken center stage in the my life.

I swept and mopped the kitchen. I gathered baskets full of laundry and took them down to the basement to wash, making sure I avoided looking at the newly identified coal chute. I went back upstairs and filled a bucket with soapy water and got down on my hands and knees and scrubbed the stairs. And the wood floors.

The kids came inside at noon on the dot and I fed them warmed-up beef stew and bread. Nick declined the stew and ate half a loaf bread instead, his crusts piling up on his plate. I opened my mouth to comment, then stopped. He’d expand his eating horizons eventually. I hoped.

They finished their lunch by eating the last of the cookies, chattering about the improvements they’d made to the track and boasting over who’d gone the farthest. Grace lifted her bangs and showed me her forehead. There was a small red mark just above her eyebrow.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“I hit the trampoline with my head,” she said. “So I went the farthest!”

I stared at her pupils for a second, trying to remember what I was supposed to look for as signs of a concussion. I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary and made a mental note to tell Jake that we needed to move the trampoline further away from the house. When the snow melted, of course. Which might have to wait until August.

The kids dumped their dishes in the sink and suited back up and headed outside. I wiped the puddles of melted snow off the kitchen floor and then went back to my mental list of chores. I dusted every horizontal surface in the house and finally batted down the cobwebs decorating the bathroom ceiling. I retrieved laundry and folded it and put everything away.

I glanced at the clock mounted in the hallway just outside of the upstairs bedrooms. It was two o’clock. I’d managed to keep myself occupied with something other than the mystery of the man in my coal chute for six solid hours. I nodded, a satisfied smile on my face, but it disappeared quickly.

Because I was done cleaning…and that meant I was bound to start thinking about it. And thinking usually turned into digging.

I went downstairs and peeked out the kitchen window. The kids were still in the backyard, their coats and hats bright against the white snow. Grace was sitting on a sled and Sophie was pulling her through the yard. Will was in a tree, a rope dangling from his hands. Sophie pulled the sled in his direction and Grace waved at him, pointing to the rope and then a spot on the back of the sled. I took a deep breath and looked away.

Exploring, I told myself. That’s what they were doing. Experimenting. Learning.

I just hoped a trip to the emergency room wouldn’t be a part of today’s lesson plans.

I plopped down on the couch and picked up the laptop that was sitting on the ottoman. I opened the web browser and tried not to think about Detective Hanborn’s comments the previous night. I didn’t like that she’d told me I was getting in the way and that I needed to step back. I felt like I had the right to dig; after all, Olaf had been found in my house. And even though I had started asking questions and poking around on my own, the initial confrontations—from both Olga and Helen—had not started with me. I’d be a little more discreet with my digging, I decided. But I wasn’t going to quit.

I stared at the screen for a minute, the cursor blinking in the search box. I started typing and hit the return key. The home page for Around The Corner loaded. It was the most logical place to return to. After all, it had helped me find Stuff It and it was the one place I knew I could find information about Olaf that was from him and not filtered through anyone else.

I found Olaf’s page again and read through it carefully, sifting through everything that was on there. But, after nearly a half an hour, I realized I wasn’t seeing anything new. Everything I read were things I already knew or didn’t give me any new information to go on. I clicked around a bit, but I just kept rereading the same things over and over.

And then I thought about Helen.

If everything I’d heard from Olga and Elliott were true, she’d spent a long time trying to get his attention. When that backfired, she’d seemingly taken a different tact, trying to make him jealous. I wondered if she’d taken that further than just flirting with Elliott Cornelius.