“Santa’s work is never done,” the man said to Xander as he rested his cane against the railing and bent down to scoop up the tiny toddler wobbling toward him. “If it isn’t Miss Delilah.” Santa bopped the blonde, chubby little girl on her nose. “Have you come to escort me to my workshop?”
“’Anta!”
Santa shifted her onto his hip and retrieved his cane before heading across the street to a storefront fully decked out as Santa’s playland, complete with visiting hours with the big guy.
Part Pied Piper, part rock star, Santa led the trail of children and parents down to the store. The door opened, and Christmassy jingles floated on the air.
Xander leaned back against the railing, which had been accented with a lush bough dusted with fine, flaked fake snow. The giant bows and candy canes displayed on the streetlamps and from second-story windows and the cascading lights twinkling and blinking in storefronts all mingled with the sound of ocean waves rattling over stones to create the most distinctive and welcoming setting for the holiday season that Xander had ever seen.
In the hours since he and Calliope had parted ways, he’d taken the time to explore—really explore—what Butterfly Harbor had to offer. He’d spent over an hour in the hardware store alone, entranced by the old-fashioned but comprehensive offerings that included a post-office annex in the very back. The staff had been friendly and welcoming and had even asked about his plans for the sanctuary.
The residents had a special place in their hearts and minds for the proposed tourist attraction that could help continue the revitalization of their town. He’d followed that trip with a stop at the ice-cream shop and decided that the honey-lavender ice cream could very well be the best thing he’d eaten in town so far. The antiques store and gift shop provided him with five Christmas gifts, including an antique cameo necklace for his mother, and stunning, handmade butterfly bracelets for his sisters and sister-in-law.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Chicago addiction aside, he was beginning to understand the appeal of slower-paced California living.
He groaned when his cell rang. He pulled out his phone but this time when he saw Antony’s name on the screen, he didn’t cringe or ignore the call.
“Hey, Antony.” He turned and looked back out at the ocean and the array of boats lined up before him like the life-sized toy store of his dreams. He’d forgotten he always wanted a boat.
“It’s about time,” Antony growled from Chicago. “Don’t you get reception out in the middle of nowhere?”
Middle of... Xander frowned.
“That is what you called it, isn’t it?” Antony goaded, and just like that, Xander felt the first signs of a headache pound behind his eyes.
“I suppose I did.” And how wrong he’d been. “What’s going on?”
“Tell me you’ve heard from Alethea.”
Xander straightened. “I don’t think so. Hang on.” He checked his calls, voicemails. “No, nothing. Why?”
“The school called this morning. She hasn’t been to class in over a week. They checked her dorm room this morning and her things are gone. She’s not there, Xander.”
Xander squeezed his eyes shut and rubbed two fingers hard against his forehead. “Okay, let’s not panic. I’m sure she’s okay.”
“Then you’d be the only one who thinks so,” Antony snapped. “Look, I get that you feel guilty over not helping with Dad before but running all the way across the country in a futile attempt to solve our problems isn’t working. We need you here. Mom needs you here.”
“There’s nothing futile about trying to get jobs for the firm.” Xander wasn’t about to get into the same argument yet again. “And don’t lump all our issues in with our sister. What about her friends? Have any of them seen or heard from her?” He hoofed it double-time toward the Flutterby and his cabin, leaving all thoughts of Christmas and relaxation behind.
“Last anyone saw her was last week. Dyna’s heading to campus as we speak. She’s going to try to see what she can find out in person.”