A Laramie, Texas Christmas. Cathy Thacker Gillen

race track rug Noelle had brought in.

      Mikey lifted the truck in his hand for Kevin to see. “Tick-up-puck!” The little boy looked at him, obviously wanting to be sure Kevin understood what he had said.

      Noelle noted with amusement that the deputy hadn’t a clue.

      “Mikey is showing you his pickup truck.” Noelle enunciated carefully, for benefit of her toddler son.

      Recognition dawned. “That is a very nice pickup truck,” he agreed emphatically, looking Mikey straight in the eye.

      The little boy beamed.

      Kevin patted him gently on the shoulder, then stood up again.

      The mood shifted as electricity arced between him and Noelle, generated no doubt by the memory of that sizzling kiss they had shared. She did her best to ignore it. As did he.

      Smiling, Miss Sadie looked at the large cloth sack Kevin held in one hand. “What have you got there?”

      He shrugged, his attention focused now on the genteel elderly woman. “A little elf told me you and some of the other ladies here at Laramie Gardens know how to sew.”

      Miss Sadie nodded. “Why, yes, we do. It was an art taught to all the ladies of my generation. It was part of the school curriculum.”

      Relief etched his handsome features and he handed her the sack. “We have a lot of baby doll clothing in need of tender loving care. And time is short, I’m afraid.”

      Miss Sadie plucked a torn dress from the bag. “I see what you mean.”

      Kevin regarded her hopefully. “Any chance I could get you to be in charge of the task, Miss Sadie?”

      “Consider it done, Deputy McCabe. When did you need them?”

      “By the morning of the twenty-third? That would give us the afternoon to get the dolls put back together and ready to give out to the children.”

      “I’ll talk to the other ladies at dinner this evening.”

      She handed the bag back and Kevin set it in the corner, out of harm’s way.

      “Now,” Miss Sadie continued, “what have you been able to find out about my identity theft since we spoke yesterday?”

      Kevin’s expression grew serious. “What happened to you was part of a big, elaborate scam, Miss Sadie. Twenty-five other Houston families, all socially and financially prominent, were hit. Same M.O. for all of them. New credit card accounts were opened. In some situations, the victims were traveling. In others, accounts were begun under the name of a person in a nursing home, or at a college.” He folded his arms in front of him. “Multiple e-mail accounts were then set up in each victim’s name on free e-mail servers on the Web, and goods were ordered from there as ‘holiday gifts’ for other people. Three addresses were used as drops for the goods—all rental houses whose residents have since moved out, if they ever really moved in. The ordered merchandise is probably being sold, or used to get store credit, as we speak.”

      “Can you track it?” Miss Sadie asked.

      “Not easily,” Kevin replied regretfully, “given the fact it’s the Christmas season, and much of the merchandise ordered on your account was for things like watches and iPods and laptop computers that are sold in high volume this time of year, anyway. But we are tracking the origin of the e-mail accounts. The host companies have pinpointed a public library close to a university in southwest Houston where the requests for credit cards originated, and they’ve set up a sting there to catch anyone who might come back to continue their criminal activity.”

      Miss Sadie pressed a frail hand to her throat. “Well, that’s good to know. Isn’t it, Noelle?”

      “Yes.” Noelle looked Kevin straight in the eye, letting him know once again she had absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. “It is.”

      “Thieves simply should not be able to operate during the Christmas season,” Miss Sadie declared emotionally. “And speaking of the holiday, did you hear my news?” she asked Kevin.

      He shook his head.

      “I’ve talked Noelle and little Mikey into spending the Christmas holiday with me at Blackberry Hill!” she announced enthusiastically. She clapped her hands and glanced at Noelle. “Dash is going to be so pleased when he hears you’ll be joining us this year for the entire event.”

      Mikey stopped playing long enough to clap his hands, too. They all laughed. He grinned and clapped again, before returning to his trucks.

      “I can’t wait to tell Dash this evening,” Miss Sadie said.

      Noelle flushed. She didn’t know what it was about the yuletide season, but it seemed like everybody wanted all single people to be hooked up. She wondered if Kevin McCabe was getting the same pressure from his family and friends.

      Eyes twinkling, Kevin scratched his ear. “Sounds like you’re doing a little matchmaking there, Miss Sadie.”

      “I admit I wouldn’t mind if the two of them finally stopped dawdling and made a match,” Miss Sadie replied with customary frankness. “In fact, I can’t think of a better Christmas present for me.”

      Noelle cleared her throat. “Back to your investigation, Deputy McCabe,” she said in a low, strangled voice, ignoring the faint hint of disappointment in his eyes. She was not taking advantage of Dash and Miss Sadie! “What else is being done to wrap this investigation up as soon as possible?” she queried, making it clear that she wanted the thieves caught as desperately as Miss Sadie did.

      His expression all-business, Kevin directed his answer to both women. “The rest of the families are filling out the same questionnaire I brought you this morning, Miss Sadie. When we get them all back in, we’ll be comparing them, looking for similarities.”

      “Such as…?” Noelle asked.

      “What event planners and caterers they used.”

      Okay, now he was really getting under her skin, Noelle decided. She leveled a warning glance his way and thought she saw a glimmer of amusement in his eyes.

      “Surely you’re not hinting that Noelle had anything to do with this!” Miss Sadie declared, incensed.

      “I’m not hinting anything,” Kevin said. “I’m just explaining the way a theft investigation works.

      Baloney, Noelle thought. “Don’t let him fool you, Miss Sadie. He’s investigating me. He told me as much last evening.”

      Miss Sadie lifted an indignant brow. “That really isn’t necessary, Detective.”

      “I’m afraid it is.” Kevin watched Mikey drive his pickup truck across the floor. “I’d be remiss in my duty if I left any stone unturned. Although you’ll both be glad to know—” Kevin smiled as Mikey passed him and continued toward his mom “—Miss Kringle appears completely innocent thus far.”

      “I could have told you that,” Miss Sadie huffed.

      “Don’t fault him for doing his job,” Noelle soothed. She reached down to pick up her son and hold him on her lap. “Detective McCabe has to look at everyone if he hopes to find the culprit.”

      “I’m glad you understand,” Kevin replied as Mikey wreathed both arms around his mother’s neck and rested his head on her shoulder.

      She stroked his downy curls. “I do understand.” It didn’t mean she didn’t resent it.

      “Hungee, Momma,” Mikey interrupted, with quiet urgency.

      Guilt flowed through Noelle as she realized time had gotten away from her. “Oh, goodness,” she said, consulting her watch. “It’s dinnertime.” She stood with Mikey cradled on her hip, and began gathering up her things.

      Kevin helped by retrieving toys and slipping them into her diaper bag. “I’ll walk you out,”