Christmas Trio B. Debbie Macomber

not sure.”

      Looking around, Linc saw a pay phone near the restrooms. “I’ll check if Ben Rhodes is in the phone book,” he said, leaving his stool.

      “Sounds like a plan,” Santa muttered.

      Linc removed the phone book from a small shelf. The entire directory was only half an inch thick. The Seattle phone book had a bigger section just of government agencies than the combined Cedar Cove White and Yellow Pages. He quickly found the listing for Ben and Charlotte Rhodes, then copied down the phone number and address.

      “Got it,” he announced triumphantly.

      “Should we call?”

      “Nope.”

      “Why not?” Mel asked. He walked back to the bar and downed the last of his beer.

      “I don’t want to give Mary Jo a heads-up that we’re in town. I think the best thing to do is take her by surprise.”

      Ned nodded, although he seemed a bit uncertain.

      Linc thanked the bartender, got some general directions and collected his change. He left a generous tip; it was Christmas Eve, after all. Then he marched toward the door, his brothers scrambling after him.

      In the parking lot again, Linc climbed into the truck and started the engine. He’d noticed that Harbor Street angled up the hill. He guessed David’s parents’ street wasn’t far from this main thoroughfare. Trusting his instincts, he returned to the traffic signal, took a left and followed the road until it intersected with Pelican Court.

      Within five minutes of leaving the tavern, Linc was parked on Eagle Crest Avenue, outside Ben and Charlotte Rhodes’s house.

      The porch light was on, and there appeared to be a light on inside, too. The house was a solid two-story dwelling, about the same age as the one he shared with his brothers in Seattle. White Christmas lights were strung along the roofline and the bushes were lighted, too. There was a manger scene on the front lawn.

      “This is a neat town,” Mel said. “Did you see they have an art gallery? We passed it a couple of minutes ago.”

      “When did you get so interested in art?” Linc asked.

      “I like art.”

      “Since when?”

      “Since now. You want to make something of it?”

      “No,” Linc said, puzzled by Mel’s defensiveness.

      Linc walked up the steps leading to the front door while his brothers stood out on the lawn. Mel amused himself by rearranging the large plastic figures in the Nativity scene.

      Linc felt smug. If Mary Jo thought she’d outsmarted him, she had a lesson to learn. He didn’t want to be self-righteous, but he was going to teach his little sister that she wasn’t nearly as clever as she seemed to think. He also wanted Mary Jo to understand that he had her best interests at heart—now and always.

      He leaned hard against the doorbell, then waited several minutes and when nothing happened, he pressed the bell a sec ond time.

      “Want me to scope out the backyard?” Ned called from the lawn.

      “Sure.”

      His youngest brother took off and disappeared around the side of the house.

      Mel trailed after Ned, while Linc stood guard on the porch. Since no one was bothering to answer—although there seemed to be people home—he stepped over to the picture window and glanced inside through the half-closed blinds.

      A cat hissed at him from the windowsill on the other side. Or at least he assumed it was hissing, since its teeth were bared and its ears laid back. Startled, he took a deep breath and stepped away. Although there was a window between them, the cat glared at him maliciously, its intentions clear.

      “Nice kitty, nice kitty,” Linc remarked, although he knew the animal couldn’t hear his attempt to be friendly. This cat was anything but. Linc didn’t doubt for a moment that if he were to get inside the house, “nice kitty” would dig all his claws into him within seconds.

      Linc hurried to the other side of the porch and leaned over the side, but that didn’t provide him with any further information.

      A minute or two later, his brothers were back. “The house is locked up. Door wouldn’t budge.”

      This wasn’t going the way Linc had planned. “Okay, so maybe they aren’t home.”

      “Then where are they?” Mel demanded.

      “How am I supposed to know?” Linc asked, growing irritated.

      “You’re the one with all the answers.”

      “Hey, hey,” Ned said, coming to stand between his brothers. “Let’s skip the sarcasm. We’re looking for Mary Jo, remember?”

      “Where is she?” Mel asked.

      “I haven’t got a clue,” Ned returned calmly. “But someone must.”

      “Maybe we should ask a neighbor,” Mel said.

      “Be my guest.” Linc motioned widely with his arm.

      “Okay, I will. I’ll try … that one.” Mel marched down the steps, strode across the street and walked up to the front door. He pounded on it. Even from this distance Linc could hear his knock.

      An older woman with pink rollers in her hair pulled aside the drape and peeked out.

      “I just saw someone,” Ned yelled. “There’s someone inside.”

      Linc had seen her, too.

      “Why isn’t she answering the door?” Mel asked loudly, as if the two of them had some secret insight into this stranger.

      “Would you answer if King Kong was trying to get in your front door?” Linc asked. Apparently Mel hadn’t figured out that most people responded better to more sensitive treatment.

      “Okay, fine,” Mel shouted after several long minutes. “Be that way, lady.”

      “She just doesn’t want to answer the door,” Ned shouted back.

      Mel ignored that and proceeded to the next house.

      “Knock more quietly this time,” Linc instructed.

      Mel ignored that, too. Walking to the door, he pushed the buzzer, then turned and glanced over his shoulder. This house seemed friendlier, Linc thought. A large evergreen wreath hung on the door and lights sparkled from the porch columns.

      Again no one answered.

      Losing patience, Mel looked in the front window, framing his face with both hands. After peering inside for several seconds, he straightened and called out, “No one’s home here.”

      “You want me to try?” Ned asked Linc. Mel wasn’t exactly making friends in the neighborhood.

      “Do you think it’ll do any good?”

      “Not really,” Ned admitted.

      A piercing blare of sirens sounded in the distance, disrupting the tranquility of the neighborhood.

      Mel hurried back across the street. “Everyone seems to be gone. Except for the lady with those pink things in her hair.”

      Despite their efforts, they obviously weren’t getting anywhere. “Now what?” Ned muttered.

      “You got any ideas?” Linc asked his two brothers, yelling to be heard over the sirens.

      “Nope,” Mel said with a shrug.

      “Me, neither,” Linc said, not hiding his discouragement.

      They sauntered back to the truck and climbed inside. Linc started the engine and was about to drive away from the curb