The Christmas Shoppe Read Free

Tommy wasn’t keeping up better.
    “Why does your housekeeper think Ms. Honeycutt’s a weird wacko?”
    “Probably because she is. At least that’s what Cathleen’s sister says. Now, I’m trying to remember what Cathleen called that woman. Sounded like a bad word at first, but it wasn’t. Oh yeah, she told me that Honeycutt lady is a hoarder. You know what that is, Tommy?”
    “You mean like a pack rat? Someone who hoards a lot of stuff?”
    “I reckon. Anyway, it sounds like she’s got a bunch of trash with her. Some of it’s in her car. A bunch is in her room. Nothing worth anything, according to Cathleen.”
    “You mean Cathleen’s sister.”
    “Yes, yes, Cathleen’s sister or whomever. Can you imagine why any sane person would haul a lot of garbage around with them? You have to admit it sounds a little crazy.”
    Tommy shrugged. “Takes all kinds.”
    “Maybe so . . . but here’s another thing. This woman looks about the closest thing to a homeless person I’ve seen. Yet here she is purchasing a very valuable piece of real estate—getting it for a song too.”
    Tommy couldn’t help but smile. “So does that mean you were going to get it for half a song? Or maybe a chorus or just a ditty?”
    “Never mind that.” The councilman thumped his forefinger on the one cleared space of Tommy’s desk. “Thing is, I know this woman’s not on the up-and-up. First of all, why’s she sneaking around like that? What brought her to Parrish Springs? How did she know about the sealed auction? Why is she staying in a hotel instead of with family or friends? Why does she go around town dressed like a bum? Especially when, according to my sources, she’s paying cash.”
    “What sources would that be?”
    “I can’t give it all away, son. You’re the newspaperman. I expect you to do some of the sniffing around for yourself. Just take my word for it, that woman’s got something to hide. The sooner you get to the bottom of it, the better off our town will be.”
    “Something to hide?” Tommy pressed his lips together and nodded slowly, trying to act like he was taking this all in. In actuality he was thinking about lunch, wondering if today’s blue-plate special was a meatball sandwich or mac and cheese. He was hoping for the meatballs, but Belinda at the diner kept switching it around. “What do you think she’s up to?”
    “Like I already told you—no good! Why, you can tell just by looking at her that she doesn’t belong in a town like Parrish Springs.”
    “How so?”
    “For starters, she wears these offbeat, ratty-tatty clothes. Sort of like the hippies used to wear, with beads and strange shawls and these long, weird dresses. Oh yeah, she’s got long hair too.”
    “Long hair?” Tommy suppressed the urge to roll his eyes and laugh. “That’s something to get in an uproar about, Councilman. Maybe I should write an op-ed piece about long hair and how you can tell so much about a person just from the length. You think?”
    “It’s long gray hair. Stringy, you know, like a witch.” The councilman pointed a crooked forefinger in the air. “That’s it! That’s exactly what she reminds me of, Tommy—a witch.”
    Tommy glanced at his desk calendar, which was still open to October. He sighed and flipped the page over. “Halloween was just a few days ago. Maybe Ms. Honeycutt is still in her costume.”
    “You can joke all you want, Tommy, but I’m telling you there’s something weird about this lady. I can feel it in my bones. I’ve got a good sense about people, and this Matilda Honeycutt, if that is her real name, is up to something. Mark my words, boy. She’s dangerous.”
    “So that’s all you have?” Tommy asked. “A stranger in weird clothes, a few half-hatched hunches, some innuendo, and small-town suspicion?”
    “I’d say that’s enough. Besides, you’re the newspaperman.” The councilman slowly pushed himself to his feet. “You’re supposed to be out looking for the