I ducked away from Jack's kiss, because he still smelled faintly of whiskey, and fed Lou. Then I grabbed a biscuit, stuffed some bacon in it, and headed to work, leaving two slightly bedraggled shifters behind.
I caught myself singing "Blow the Man Down" all the way to work.
* * *
When I arrived at the shop, I saw Eleanor's car, even though it was almost an hour before opening. She was wonderful, and I hated the idea that I might lose her after she got married. I hadn't directly asked if she planned to keep working at the shop, not really wanting to hear the answer yet.
I'd worry about that after the holidays too.
It was going to be a busy January.
Popping the last bite of biscuit in my mouth, I took my bag and coffee and walked to my shop, making a mental note to wash the windows again before I reopened after Christmas. They were still clean, but sparkling windows made the contents of the store shine. Pawnshops started with a disadvantage because we were basically selling used stuff, but presenting that stuff to its best advantage went a long way.
Anyway, nobody said "used" anymore. Just ask the car dealers. It was all "pre-owned."
"We need a locked case for our pre-owned magical objects," I called out when I pushed through the door. "Also, good morning! Hey! Who bought the klepto tree?"
Eleanor came rushing out from the back room. "Tess! I was just about to call you—somebody broke into the shop! The door was hanging wide open when I got here. I ran into the back to see if they got into the vault."
I was running before she finished speaking. "Did they? Get into the vault, I mean?"
"No!"
The "no" slowed me down, but I still felt compelled to look. That vault held all my most expensive pawned goods—the things that still legally belonged to other people. I was insured, of course, but insurance didn't get Aunt Sally's heirloom diamond ring back to the family who'd needed to pawn it for some extra money to pay bills.
But Eleanor had been right. The vault not only wasn't open, but there weren't even scratches to show that somebody had tried to get into it. I opened it anyway, of course, but nothing was gone. Nothing was in disarray.
"They really only opened the front door and left?" That didn't make any sense to me. "I mean, nothing else is missing? The jewelry? Any of the magical objects?"
She shook her head, but her expression told me she was still in shock. "I might have just thought we forgot to lock the door, but with all the crime going on around town recently… I really shouldn't have even come inside. I should have just called Andy."
I whirled to face her, suddenly aware that somebody could have harmed her … or worse. "Oh, Eleanor!" I hugged her, hard. "Please don't ever put yourself in danger over the shop. It's just stuff, and stuff will never, ever be as important as you are to me."
She hugged me back. "Honestly, I didn't even think about it. I just raced in when I saw the door open."
I turned and slowly scanned the shop. I didn't have an eidetic—often called photographic—memory, but I spent six days a week here. I had an excellent sense of what was where, and I couldn't see a single thing out of place. Only the enchanted tree was missing.
"Eleanor, please tell me yousoldthe magical kleptomaniacal Christmas tree?"
"No. They must have taken it. But at least it's off our hands, right?" Her expression was somewhere between relieved and worried.
"Yeah." I blew out a breath. "I'm glad it's gone, but now I'm worried about where it went and who has it. Are thieves going to get the stolen Christmas gifts? Will they return them? Or are there Dead End children who won't get their presents because of this?"
I was so mad at myself. Jack and I should have destroyed the tree when we first thought of it. Now there were kids who might go without their presents, and it was my fault.
After debating with myself for a while, I texted Andy.
Hey, it's not a huge deal, but the thieves hit my place. They only stole an enchanted Christmas tree, but I thought I'd tell you. I don't need to file an official report or anything, but the problem is that it's the presents-stealing tree. Text me when you get a chance.
He didn't immediately respond, so after waiting a few moments, I shot off a quick text telling Jack what had happened and then put my phone aside and got on with my day.
Customers bombarded us, as always happened during the last days before I closed for the holidays. We weren't UltraShopMart; I didn't stay open all day, every day, including holidays. The folks in Dead End knew that the shop closed after business on December twenty-second, because that's how Jeremiah had done it for decades, and I'd carried on that tradition.
"Christmas is for families," he'd always said, and I completely agreed.
Eleanor filled a bowl with candy canes and set it out on the counter, and we spent the morning smiling, chatting, and wishing everyone happy holidays as we rang up sale after sale. I was so busy for an hour that—for a while—I forgot one important fact:
I had security cameras.
