“And?”
“She followed me to Mary Washington. She’s like a giant tick! I hate her.”
“Miss Rice, I am sorry.”
“Give me the bracelet.”
“No.” Harry spoke with firmness.
Now downhearted, Flo started to cry. “I never get anything.”
“Miss Rice, please. I am sorry you’re upset. I’m sorry you feel your sister has been unfair to you.”
“No, you’re not. You have something that I should have for hard work. I never get anything. Esther promised me a car. Where is it? She wants me to die in a wreck in my old car.” Flo headed for the open doors, the cold air flowing into the barn. “I’m going to see Cletus.”
Harry, following Flo, knowing there could be more trouble, queried, “Cletus?”
“How many Cletuses do you know? Of course it’s Mr. Thompson.”
“He’s a nice man. I’m sure you know Mr. Thompson has a drinking problem?”
Flo turned on her heel, put her face almost into Harry’s as Tucker growled low. “How do you know he’s not thirsty?” she asked. With that, she got into her car, turned the key.
The cats, now at Harry’s feet, stepped back just a little.
“Let’s pray she doesn’t get stuck or we’re stuck with her,” Pewter said.
With the rear of the car sliding out, Flo took her foot off the gas for a moment and steered into the swerve. Her driving skills remained sharp.
She rolled down the window. “You’ll be sorry,” she warned Harry. “You shouldn’t wear things that don’t belong to you.” She fishtailed out of the long driveway.
Harry walked back into the barn, closing the big doors behind her.
“People are crazy,” Harry exclaimed.
“That one is,” Pewter agreed as she, too, walked into the tack room. “I’m exhausted. I don’t know why that made me so tired.”
The cat, on the desk, had no answer.
Tucker did. “When it’s over, danger makes you tired.”
Harry opened the phone book. It seemed to grow larger every year. She found Al Toth’s number and called.
“Mrs. Toth, it’s Harry Haristeen.”
“Harry, I’d know your voice anywhere,” Esther warmly responded.
“I am sorry to trouble you on Christmas Eve, but your sister just left my farm and she was upset and angry.”
“Flo? Angry at you?”
“Yes, ma’am. That old gold bracelet, she wants it. She said it doesn’t belong to her but she should have it. She was very put out.”
A brief silence followed this. “She’s getting worse. I’m sorry she—well, really, this is my fault. I don’t want to put her in some kind of assisted living. She’s healthy, she can take care of her little place, but her mind just isn’t what it should be. I’m the one who is in the wrong. I don’t want to admit it. I don’t want to put my sister away.”
“Has she always seen you as a competitor?” Harry’s curiosity got the better of her.
“Oh, what sisters don’t fight? If it wasn’t one thing, it was another, but for the most part we got along. This sullenness started in the late 1980s. I always thought it was her divorce and then Momma’s death that started this.”
“That’s why she goes by Rice instead of Mercier?”
“I told her to take our name back, but she said she was tired of hearing people mispronounce a French name. She refused to be addressed as Mrs. Oh, I don’t know. I’m not making much more sense than she is right now.”
“This is upsetting news. And she’s on her way to Cletus Thompson if her car can stay on that back road. Should be plowed out by now.”
“Cletus Thompson? Good Lord.” Esther sounded at her wit’s end. “Well, I’d better drive over there and get her home. I really am so sorry you have to deal with this on Christmas Eve, and I thank you for telling me where she is.”
“Despite all, Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too.”
“How long, O Lord, how long?” Pewter dramatically complained as she sat under the fragrant Christmas tree, idly batting a glass ornament.
“Another hour,” Tucker guessed.
“Or more,” Mrs. Murphy said. “They’re used to rising with the sun, and it comes up so late now. That’s why Mom sets her alarm clock.”
“Doesn’t do any good. She rolls over and turns it off.” Pewter turned her attention to a blue ball decorated with frosted snowflakes.
“Not always.” Tucker felt compelled to defend Harry.
“Did you put more food out for Odin?” Mrs. Murphy asked Tucker.
“Good scraps, some cookies. We could go out and see if he’s come by again.”
“Too cold!” Pewter, on her back, batted everything she could reach.
“Let’s go back to sleep,” Tucker suggested. “We’ll wake up when they do.”
“M-m-m, catnip in some of these presents,” Pewter mused. “I can smell it. They put the toys in Ziploc bags, that’s the nasty hint of plastic, but I can still smell the magic weed.” A candy-cane-striped small package had her full attention. “Let’s open it.”
“Better not,” Mrs. Murphy advised.
“Oh, just one.” Pewter sweetly tempted her friend before biting into a corner of the box.
——
“Those devils!” Harry exclaimed when she walked into the living room at 7:00 A.M.
Fair surveyed the damage, then burst out laughing. Every present bore teeth marks. Those promising catnip or dried-food treats had been shredded, the corners chewed off, the contents devoured. The crinkle of paper, the excitement of the gifts themselves had been just too thrilling. Colored paper, ribbons, bows lay strewn about. A few ribbons dangled from the lower branches.
The culprits who had desecrated most everything were nowhere to be seen.
Tucker, awakened, padded in from the kitchen. “I told them not to do this.”
Hours later—gifts now opened, despite the claw marks, and the mess cleaned up—the cats appeared, strolling through the house as though nothing had happened. They even went so far as to rub on the humans’ legs.
“The gall.” Harry had to smile.
“Merry Christmas,” Pewter purred.
The kitchen phone rang.
“Merry Christmas,” Cooper wished Harry when she picked up the phone. “Love my gardening tool set, and how you hid it in the shed I don’t know. But when I opened your card, I followed the directions and found it. How clever. Thank you. You know I will write a proper thank-you.”
“I will, too. Fair must have told you I needed a lamp.”
“He did.” Cooper then added, “Anyone who wanted a white Christmas got their wish this year.”
“You sound a bit rushed or something.” Though now and then she could miss things, Harry was sensitive to her friend most of the time.
“Oh, the dispatcher called. Not many people on duty today, so I was asked to help.”
“What’s up?”
“Flo Rice is missing.”
Within fifteen minutes, Cooper showed up at their door, driving her Toyota Highlander. She’d gotten a good deal on a used one.
Fair, Harry, and the animals climbed into the cushy vehicle.
“You’ve got the full complement.” Harry smiled.
“Flo might prove difficult if she’s found,” said Fair. “Anyway, if we all go out together maybe it will go faster. Then you can come to the house for Christmas dinner,” Fair gallantly invited Cooper.