Yuletide Jeopardy. Sandra Robbins

for a moment. “I remember hearing you say once that you are a geocacher.”

      “Yes, I am.”

      “And you said you like puzzle clues that lead to the hidden cache.”

      Grace frowned. “Yes, but I don’t understand what that—”

      “Has to do with finding Landon’s killer?” Grace’s skin prickled at the sudden change in the caller’s voice. Moments ago it had been soft and reassuring. Suddenly it had become harsh and demanding. “You don’t understand a lot of things, Miss Kincaid. If you want to find Landon’s killer, you’re going to have to solve much more than a geocache puzzle. I’m looking forward to seeing how smart you really are.”

      Grace stood up and gripped the phone tighter. “Don’t threaten me, Mr. Anonymous. You may find out I’m a lot smarter than you thought.”

      “I doubt it.”

      Grace chuckled. “I get it now. You didn’t call to warn me off. You wanted me more intrigued with this investigation than ever. If that was your plan, it seems to have worked. No way am I going to give up until I find out the truth.”

      He laughed, and the piercing tone chilled her. “Aren’t you a little afraid of me?”

      Her breath hitched in her throat, and her hand holding the phone shook. “N-no.”

      A laugh echoed in her ear. “Yes, you are. I can hear it in your voice. You’d be wise to be very afraid of me. You have no idea what’s about to come down on you. Look for my instructions. Game on, Miss Kincaid.”

      Before she could ask another question, the call disconnected. She stared at her phone for a moment and debated whether or not she should call Alex. He’d asked her to let him know if she found out anything. So far the only thing she knew was that someone wanted to play some kind of game with evidence he claimed to have about Landon’s death and he wanted her scared of him.

      If her shaking legs were any indication, being afraid of him wasn’t going to be a problem, but she couldn’t give up now. She might have just talked to Landon’s killer. Alex probably wouldn’t agree, though. He would more likely think she’d received a call from some prankster who pretended to have information, but she wasn’t so sure.

      A cold chill ran up her arm at the memory of the voice on the phone. He said he heard her on the broadcast. Maybe she shouldn’t talk about the investigation on the air. From now on, she’d be careful what she said. There were a lot of crazy people in the world, and the last thing she needed was to become the target of one.

      * * *

      Alex tossed the file he’d been studying down in front of him, propped his arms on his desk and buried his face in his hands. What was the matter with him? He’d been tense ever since he came into the office. Maybe he hadn’t gotten over watching a man jump to his death, but in his heart he knew that wasn’t true.

      The main reason he’d been distracted all morning was because he couldn’t quit thinking about Grace. He’d put their past behind him years ago, and now she wanted them to work together to investigate Landon Mitchell’s death. Even though he’d agreed, he wasn’t sure he was ready to do that. They would have to see each other from time to time, and that could stir up a lot of old memories that needed to be forgotten.

      He pushed to his feet, let out a ragged breath and ran his hand through his hair. Maybe some lunch would make him feel better. Before he could turn and leave the office, the door opened, and his partners, Brad Austin and Seth Dawtry, walked into the room. Brad held a sack with the name of Alex’s favorite fast food place printed on the side.

      “Seth and I were downtown and had lunch. We stopped and picked something up for you since you were holding the office down.”

      Alex grinned, reached for the sack and sank back into his chair. “Thanks. I was about to go get something. Now I can eat at my desk.”

      Brad nodded. “We thought you might not be in the mood to go out. You’ve had a tough morning.”

      Alex sighed. “Yeah, it’s never easy seeing someone commit suicide.”

      Brad and Seth exchanged glances. “Well, if you need to talk, buddy, we’re here for you.”

      “Thanks, guys, I appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

      Brad opened his mouth to say something but shook his head, walked to his desk and dropped down in his chair. Seth considered Alex for a moment before he ambled over to his desk. When his partners appeared engrossed in what they were doing, Alex relaxed in his chair and pulled the burger and fries from the bag. He picked up a French fry, dredged it in catsup and shoved it in his mouth.

      The thought of the look on Mr. Mitchell’s face as he plummeted toward the river flashed in Alex’s mind, and he frowned. He tried to chew the French fry he’d just put in his mouth, but he might as well have been eating sawdust for all the taste he got out of the piece of potato. He swallowed the fry, picked up the remainder of his lunch and put it back in the bag for later. There was no point in forcing himself to eat when his stomach churned. Maybe he needed to stop by the drugstore on his way home this afternoon and get something for a queasy stomach.

      The problem was he’d had this feeling for years. It recurred every time he saw Grace, and he’d never found any medicine that could cure what ailed him. All he had to do was keep his distance from her, and after a few days he’d feel better.

      After a few minutes he pushed to his feet. “I’m going to the break room for a cup of coffee. Anybody want anything?”

      Brad and Seth shook their heads, and he strode from the room. He’d only taken a few steps down the hall when he heard music drifting from the break room. He stopped, glanced down at his watch and grimaced. Just his luck. It was time for the WKIZ noon news. He hesitated at the door, unsure if he should enter or turn and walk back to his office. He rubbed his hand over his eyes, took a deep breath and walked inside.

      Several officers sat on the couch that faced the television, and their gazes were locked on the picture that filled the screen. Grace sat behind the anchor desk and in her usual professional manner related the events of the morning as she looked into the camera.

      He couldn’t move as she switched to the video the cameraman had filmed on the bridge. He shoved his hands into his pockets, leaned up against the door frame and watched in fascination as she reported the lead-in story for the newscast. His throat tightened, and his heart thudded as he relived each terrifying moment. Perspiration dotted his forehead, and he reached up to wipe it away.

      One of the officers glanced up and saw him standing in the doorway. “Hey, Crowne. That was some rescue you pulled off. I didn’t know you could move that fast.” The officers looked at each other and chuckled.

      Alex pushed to his full height and managed a weak smile. “I just wish I could have saved Mitchell, but at least Grace Kincaid didn’t go over the side, too.”

      He glanced back at the screen as the camera focused on Grace’s face again. Behind her he could see red poinsettias arranged on shelves. As he studied her sitting among the holiday decorations on the set, he was reminded of Christmas their senior year in college. He couldn’t wait for her to get back to Memphis from Philadelphia that year, but it hadn’t turned out to be the happy time he’d anticipated. Instead, it had ended with his heart broken. Every Christmas since then had held little interest for him.

      After a moment he stepped into the room and dropped down in a chair. He sat through the rest of Grace’s newscast, but he didn’t leave when the program was over and the other officers had returned to their desks.

      Suddenly he felt tired. Maybe the morning’s events were just catching up with him. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes and drifted on the edge of sleep. The ringing of his phone jerked him awake, and he sat up straight. He had no idea how long he’d been in the break room.

      He sat up and pulled his phone from his pocket. “Hello.”

      “Alex,