Yuletide Jeopardy. Sandra Robbins

A smirk pulled at his lips, and he let his gaze drift back and forth from her face to the puzzle in her hand. “Don’t you have anything better to do than play with toys? We do have a noon newscast to do, you know.”

      Grace opened her desk drawer, shoved the puzzle inside and stood. “I like to keep my mind sharp, Todd. You might try doing that sometime yourself.”

      He glared at her and took a step forward. “Someday you’re going to go too far with me, Grace.”

      She ignored the remark and crossed her arms. “Do you need something?”

      Todd shook his head. “No, I just thought I’d check and see if you’d had any response to your plea on yesterday’s newscast for information about Landon Mitchell’s death.”

      “I haven’t had anything concrete yet.”

      He cocked one eyebrow. “But you have had something?”

      She shook her head. “Nothing I can talk about.”

      He pursed his lips and frowned. “Okay. Let me know if I can help you with anything.”

      “I will.”

      She waited until he’d left before she sank back in her chair. Nothing would please Todd better than to scoop her on the story of Landon’s death. She would have to be more careful in the future.

      Grace pulled the drawer open and looked down at the puzzle. She should call Alex. She’d promised to let him know if she heard anything from her mysterious caller. She jumped up, hurried to the door and closed it before she returned to her desk and dialed Alex’s cell phone. He answered on the first ring.

      “Hello, Grace.”

      The abrupt tone of his voice startled her, and she winced. “My, my. Don’t you sound grouchy this morning?”

      “I’m sorry. It’s already been a busy morning.” His voice softened. “How are you feeling?”

      “Better today.”

      “Good.”

      “I don’t know if it means anything or not...” Her office door rattled as if someone was about to open it. She paused in speaking. “Hold on a minute.”

      She rose, walked to the door and pulled it open, but there was no one there. She stepped into the hallway and caught a glimpse of Todd just as he disappeared around the corner at the end of the hall. Had he been listening outside her door?

      Frowning, she stepped back into her office and closed the door. “I’m sorry. I thought someone was at the door, but I was wrong. But the reason I called was to let you know I received a message from my caller this morning.”

      “Really?”

      He remained silent as she related the details of her delivery this morning and her inability to solve the puzzle. “He told me this wasn’t going to be easy, and he was right. So, I’m at a standstill. I don’t know where to go until I get the GPS coordinates arranged on one side of the puzzle.”

      “This sounds weird to me, Grace. But then I’ve never done any geocaching. I’ve heard about it, and I know it’s like an internet scavenger hunt. But I really don’t know how it works.”

      She chuckled. “It doesn’t seem like something you’d be interested in, but I love it. Like you said, it’s an international internet scavenger hunt that’s run from a website. A cache is usually a small item that can be placed along with a log book in a box or some other container and hidden aboveground. Then the person who’s hidden the cache logs the coordinates on a geocaching website, and hunters enter the coordinates in a GPS to search for them.”

      “So the searcher gets to keep the treasure when he finds it?”

      “Not necessarily. The geocacher signs the log book that’s been left at the cache site and may take the item inside or leave it. If they choose to take the item, they are required to leave something of equal value for the next hunter to find. When they return home, they log into the website and report the date they found the cache. It’s not about what’s found in the box. It’s all about the hunt. I spend a lot of my weekends looking for caches. It tests your mind, and you get a lot of exercise, too.”

      Alex was silent for a moment. “So whoever sent you this puzzle is familiar with geocaching, and he knows you are, too. He’s left you a clue to Landon’s death, and the only way you can find it is to solve the puzzle and get the coordinates. Then you’ll know where to look.”

      “That’s right. I told you I would call if I found out anything, but I have no idea whether or not I’ll ever be able to get the puzzle faces turned so that all the whites are on one side.”

      “I was never much good at working those things, either. If you solve it, give me a call, and I’ll go with you to the location. I don’t want you going by yourself.”

      Grace sighed. “Okay, I’ll let you know, but don’t hold your breath. This may be a hopeless task.”

      “Thanks for calling, Grace, and keep in touch.”

      “I will.”

      Grace opened her desk drawer, picked up the puzzle, and twisted the surfaces. The longer she worked the more hopeless the task appeared. After about twenty minutes, she tossed the cube on her desk and rose to her feet. She might as well give up.

      She placed her hands on her hips and looked down at the innocent-looking toy on her desk. Hidden on its surfaces were directions to a place that might reveal an answer to how Landon died. She had to get those coordinates lined up.

      An idea hit her, and she smiled. There was more than one way to find what she needed to know. She sat down at her computer and pulled up the internet. Within minutes she had the information she needed.

      She rushed to the hallway and hurried to the small closet near the staff restroom where the custodian kept his tools. She grabbed a screwdriver, took it to her office, and sat down at her desk. Smiling to herself, she picked up the cube and followed the instructions she’d found on the internet. First she rotated the top layer by 45 degrees, and pried one of its edge cubes away from the other two layers. The piece fell to her desk.

      One by one she pulled the small cubes away from the center axis of the toy and watched them tumble to her desk in a pile of colors. When they were all stripped from the cube, she laid the white stickered sides out as if they were one surface on the cube and studied them. Frowning, she rearranged the pieces until she was satisfied she’d finally gotten the correct latitude and longitude. Then she leaned forward, folded her arms on top of her desk and smiled.

      The coordinates stood out from the white surfaces. All she had to do now was enter them in her GPS and she would be on her way to finding out the truth about Landon Mitchell’s death. Smiling, she picked up her cell phone and punched in Alex’s number. He answered on the first ring.

      “Hi, Grace.”

      “I’ve figured out the coordinates.”

      “Already?”

      She laughed. “Well, to tell the truth I took a short cut. I tore the cube apart and laid the white sides out until I had the numbers in the right order.”

      “That was smart. When do you want to go take a look at the cache site?”

      She glanced at her watch. “It’s almost time for the noon news. What if I pick you up at the police station about one-thirty?”

      “Sounds good. See you then.”

      Grace disconnected the call and sat there a few minutes. Ever since she’d been back in Memphis, she’d tried to avoid seeing or talking with Alex. Then yesterday they’d been reunited by a man who wanted them to bring out the truth about his son’s death. Although she wanted to uncover the facts, she still wasn’t sure working with Alex was a good idea. Once she’d trusted Alex with all her heart, but when she’d needed him to have faith in her, he had failed her.

      Her