Leigh Duncan

Journey Back to Christmas


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of light broke through the darkness.

      That has to be the gazebo. If she could just make it that far, she’d be all right. Though the swirling snow made it hard to see, she trusted that there’d be people on the square, people who could help her. Not more than an hour earlier, she’d seen the gathering crowd. Surely, they’d still be there singing carols and drinking hot chocolate. She only had to make it that far to find help. To find warmth.

      The blinding snow made even a short walk heavy, treacherous going. Her head down, she cautiously studied every step. Bit by bit, she forged a path. Ice crunched beneath her shoes. Her leather soles skidded. The punishing wind tugged and pried at every opening, every seam in her coat. Wet, cold droplets pelted her brow, clung to her hair, and sent chills down her back.

      She pressed on, determined.

      Her foot struck a wooden step, and her head jerked up. After what had seemed like an eternity of trudging through the snow, she’d finally reached the gazebo. She turned in a slow circle without seeing another soul. Doubt landed a solid punch to her stomach.

      Had she come all this way for nothing?

      She wasted no time in taking stock. What was the use? Her fingers had already grown so numb she’d had trouble looping her purse over her arm. The cold seared her lungs with every breath. Her feet had turned into blocks of ice. If she didn’t find shelter soon, she’d be frozen stiff by morning.

      Through the clouds, an odd light lit the sky. She squinted in the dim glow and spotted a storage barn she’d never noticed before. It stood not more than fifty yards from her. Could she make it that far? She had to. Pulling her coat as tightly about her as she could, she set off, determined, if nothing else, to get out of the wind, out of the snow.

      Ominous thunder rolled overhead. Lightning flashed in the distance. The sky grew brighter. A faint glow cast an eerie light on the snow. A shiver ran straight down her spine. By sheer force of will, she made her feet move faster.

      It took every ounce of strength she had left, and then some, to reach the barn. Wrenching the door open, she stepped inside. She barely had time to shut herself in before, trembling with exhaustion, her legs gave out. She sank to her knees. Just as she did, a sudden burst of lightning clapped the building. The air pulsed with such force, it flung her across the tiny space. Blinding pain seared through her as her head struck something hard and unforgiving.

      And everything went dark.

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      December 2016

      Parked outside the Central Falls Police Headquarters, Jake Stanton scanned the freshly shoveled sidewalks for signs of trouble and got… nothing. Stifling a ripple of discontent, he brushed a drop of melted snow from the sleeve of his uniform jacket. Where had this feeling of dissatisfaction come from? Christmas was right around the corner. The sights and sounds of his favorite season had always filled him with anticipation and hope. Not so this year. This year, the holiday greetings of people he’d known all his life left him feeling empty and hollow. Not even a drive down Main Street, where Christmas lights shone around every doorway and window, could brighten his spirits.

      He tapped his chin. He supposed the blame for his current case of the blues fell squarely on his own shoulders. But who could fault him for feeling down when his number one goal was to help people, to make a difference in their lives… and no one needed his assistance? From Mr. Birchdale at the Art Gallery to Tobias Cook, the town’s somewhat eccentric millionaire, everyone in Central Falls had their lives tied up in neat packages, much like the Christmas present that busybody, Mrs. Jones, had just toted out of the china shop.

      Not that he wanted to change professions. No. He’d dreamed of becoming a police officer ever since he’d pinned a shiny tin badge on his shirt and strapped a toy gun in a holster around his waist at three years old. He’d pursued that goal by signing up for the military police when he’d enlisted in the Army straight out of high school. Four years as an MP, followed by another four in college, had earned him a position with the police department in his hometown. For the past five years, he’d risen steadily through the ranks. Last fall, he’d been promoted to Training Officer, a position he’d thoroughly enjoyed until three months ago… when Sarah had joined the force.

      He guessed she was the other part of his problem. As Training Officer, it had fallen to him to teach her the ins and outs of good police work—to slow down, to assess every situation, to stay safe. A tough enough job with any new recruit. But working with Sarah made that task twice as hard. In order to do his job right, he had to stop seeing her as the little tomboy who’d done her best to outrun, outshoot, outmaneuver him all through their childhood. He had to look at her through fresh eyes. And well, that was nearly impossible when she insisted on treating him the same way she always had. Take right now, for example.

      “What’s your favorite?” Sarah posed the question from behind the steering wheel of their squad car.

      Jake started. What had she been talking about? Oh, yeah. Sports. “Football. Definitely football.”

      “Over baseball?” Sarah’s blond brows rose to incredulous points. Her lips formed a thin line, and she gave her head a shake that sent her long ponytail swaying. “You do not.”

      “What? You think you know everything about me?” He swirled the coffee in his Styrofoam cup.

      “Yeah, I kinda do.” Sarah shrugged. “I’ve known you your whole life.”

      “Okay, you do not know everything there is to know about me.” She might think she understood what drove him, but how could she? He’d never once mentioned how much he wanted to make a difference, to do something worthwhile with his life. There were other things she didn’t know about him, too. For instance, he’d certainly never confessed how much he worried about her when they went out on a call.

      Giving her his best smug smile, the one she never saw through, he eyed her over the rim of his cup. “A man needs to keep some things to himself.”

      “Oh, so you’re a man of mystery now.” She laughed. “Not!”

      “You’ll see.” Folding his arms across his chest, he kept his secrets to himself. With her quick wit and keen intelligence, his partner would make a fine police officer one day. Once she started taking him seriously, that was.

      Her expression said she had him all figured out as she squared around to face him. “Besides, Louise tells me anything I want to know.”

      Louise never could keep a secret.

      “Oh, please, shoot me now. Why?” Jake leaned back against the headrest. The long-suffering sigh he’d practiced until he had it down pat eased through his lips. “Why am I partners with my little sister’s best friend?”

      “’Cause you trust me?” Reaching across the squad car, Sarah tapped her fist against his chest.

      An unexpected urge to catch her fingers in his stirred within him. He suppressed it and batted her hand away. “Ma’am, hands on your side of the vehicle,” he said, the warning as much a reminder to himself as it was for her.

      “And I”—Sarah gave his arm another tap—“make you look good.”

      As if! Jake chuckled. “Could you please be a little less bratty when you’re in uniform?”

      Sarah tilted her head. Her Cheshire-cat grin offered no promises.

      A burst of static rose from the radio mounted under the dash. “Dispatch to 403.”

      Jake keyed the mic attached to his uniform collar. “Yeah, 403 here.”

      “We have a report of a female on Main Street at Center Road who may need a well-being check. Can you investigate that?”

      “Copy that. En route.” He wasted a glance at Sarah, but she’d already moved into action, buckling her seatbelt and stashing her coffee in a cup