“Ms. Tucker, what is going on here?”
Miriam’s voice was clear, cool and sharp as the jagged shards of the gold glass ball beside her boot. Darcy sighed. She definitely hated Christmas.
Hated it.
“I’ll handle it, Ms. Blackstone.”
Jaime came running around the counter. “No, I’ll take care of it.”
“No,” Miriam said so softly that Darcy’s internal radar went into the red zone. “Darcy is the covering manager tonight.”
Jaime’s chin lifted. “Actually, Tom is. Darcy was supposed to be off almost three hours ago.”
“I don’t care.” Miriam glanced at the door. A patrol car with its twirling lights came to a stop in front of the store. “I’ll go deal with this.” She turned to Darcy. “You’ll need to explain to me and the police just what happened.”
Jaime stepped forward. “I was—”
Darcy clamped a hand on her forearm. “I’ll be right behind you, Ms. Blackstone.”
Miriam pivoted on her spiked heel and headed to the door.
“Darcy, let me take care of this. You have to be here at five thirty in the morning.”
“It’s okay. They’ll need statements from both of us.” She hurried to the desk and snapped out a garbage bag. “You start cleaning and I’ll come back and help.”
At least she could take some joy out of throwing away some of the garish ornaments.
With another two and a half hours under her belt, it well past dusk by the time Darcy made the turn onto her street. The figure eight of the cul-de-sacs and their tidy townhouses and duplexes instantly relaxed her. She’d saved for over eight years to afford her house. She’d purchased one of the duplexes to help offset costs with a tenant. There wasn’t one thing she had a problem with—
Her jaw turned to stone and she was pretty sure one more molar grind tonight would break it into dust.
Lights.
Everywhere.
Her house was a freaking carnival. Icicle-style in holiday white dripped in perfect lines from the gutter that ran the length of her roof. Behind the icicles were fat retro bulbs with their unmistakable LED glow. Every tree and bush, even her planting box, was strung with white lights. Santa and his sleigh had taken over her tenant’s side of the lawn, and animatronic reindeer pranced in more of the viciously happy white freaking lights.
Her heart raged.
No.
No.
No.
This was her safe haven.
There was no Christmas at her house.
Suddenly the lights started blinking and Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer piped out of her house. Her house.
She slammed her car door and stared.
“Oh, isn’t it amazing?” Her neighbor Carly ran across the grass. “I’ve been watching for your car.”
Too stunned to answer, Darcy watched her house pulse and flash.
“He’s been working on it all day.”