08 - December Dread Read Online Free Page B

regarding certified training of Private Detectives.” There was a lot of small print, which I pretended to skim. I’d already worked one case, in November and under the supervision of an attorney, as required by Minnesota Law, but I had yet to take the required certification class. “Thanks, but this doesn’t do me any good. This class is in Willmar, and it starts next week. That’s a two-hour drive from here, one way.”
    “But only a 30-minute drive from Paynesville.”
    I squinted. “Have you and Kennie been talking?”
    He tugged his glasses to the tip of his nose and leaned back in his chair, studying me from under his bushy eyebrows. “I’m on the city council. I know the library is closing for two weeks.” He reached for a pencil and twirled it in his fingertips, visibly weighing whether or not he should tell me more. In the end, he decided to lay it all on the table. “It was going to be longer, except Kennie fought for you.”
    “What?” My brain was trying to make sense of those words. I must have misheard him, and he’d actually said, “Kennie caught the flu,” or “Kennie bought four ewes.”
    “Believe it. There were council members who thought it’d be more fiscally responsible to close the library entirely during the winter months. Kennie held strong that if it had to be closed at all, it should only be for two weeks.”
    I didn’t know where in my head to fit the revelation that Kennie might have done something nice for me of her own volition, so I opted for an offensive move instead. “Why didn’t you fight for me?”
    “Who says I didn’t? It ultimately came down to closing the library for two weeks or turning off the Christmas lights early. Some people choose popular over smart.”
    I groaned. “So you knew I’d be coming here looking for extra work?”
    He nodded. “And I knew I wouldn’t have it. Go home. Visit your mom. It’ll do you both good. While you’re there, find out why their local paper is doing so well and get this class out of the way so you can start earning more PI money.”
    I hated being told what to do, especially when it was for my own good. “Most people can’t afford time off, you know. Most of us have to work. I couldn’t pay for the class if I wanted to.”
    He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a pre-written check. “Thought you’d say that. Good thing you’ve got your Christmas bonus coming.”
    I took the check. $425. Exactly the cost of the class, made out to Willmar Community Education. I wasn’t used to people doing nice stuff for me and didn’t know if I was angry or happy. I kept my head down so he couldn’t see my flushed cheeks.
    “James?”
    “Yeah?” I asked.
    “It’s a favor to me.” I’d never heard this note of concern in his voice before, and he’d had me cover some dangerous stories. “Now’s not a good time to be a woman living alone, especially one who looks like you. Merry Christmas.”
    I tossed him a furtive glance, but he had returned his attention to his computer. I think I’d just experienced our longest interaction ever. “Thank you,” I murmured, and backed out of the office with the check and class information in hand, feeling both cornered and cared for.
    Outside, a gust of wind blew the edges of my scratchy purple scarf into my face. To my left and to my right, the streets of my adopted hometown were bustling with people rushing to lunch at the Turtle Stew, or into the post office, or out of the dentist or attorney offices. I could hear snatches of their conversations over the thin notes of Christmas music rolling out every time someone opened the door of the Apothecary across the street. I thought I caught a trace of the metallic scent of an approaching snowstorm.
    Somewhere in those moments, I made up my mind.
    There it was, then. Settled. The day had finally arrived.
    It was time to return to the small town that had formed me, scars and all.

Six
Sunday, December 16
    The snow settles softly onto