Alex Harris 00 - Armed

behalf. The family owned a business which employed a lot of people and no one wanted to risk losing their jobs. It might have been in lumber.”
    Kendall interrupted our conversation asking how much longer to New York. I told her only about fifteen minutes and then she went back to playing Old Maid with her brother who now had on his Spiderman T-shirt over his sweater. He loved that thing.
    “Now, where did I leave off? Oh yes. Elvira and Irwin stayed in the area for a few years but then decided to move.”
    “That’s when they came here?”
    “Yes.”
    “What happened to Irwin’s child?”
    “Elvira said he wrote letters for years but heard nothing. He always felt very guilty about that and the stress may have contributed to his heart attack at such a young age.”
    “I didn’t know he died of a heart attack.”
    “Cancer, but he had a heart attack many years before.”
    The train pulled into the station.
    My mother brushed a pine needle and a strand of tinsel from my coat. “There, that’s better.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

    Tourists and shoppers filled the streets. But it all added to the atmosphere somehow and Christmas just wouldn’t be Christmas without a trip to the city.
    We had lunch at our favorite deli and then spent a good deal of time at a big chain bookstore. Mom took the kids to look for something for their parents while I headed for the mystery section. Years ago I read romance novels but the father of a friend had given me a Dick Francis book and I never turned back. Buying books became an addiction. And then it hit me. Mystery books. Murder. No wonder Mrs. Scott’s death intrigued me so.
    The kids decided on a beautiful picture book of Europe. Sam and Michael wanted to take a trip in the spring and Kendall at least thought a book might help them narrow down exactly where they wanted to go. Henry leaned toward getting them the latest Harry Potter but Grandma intervened. A couple of hours and several packages later, we sat in yet another café resting our feet and having a hot drink.
    “I’m so glad we came,” my mother said, patting my hand. “It seems we never have time for a good chat anymore. Anything on the dating front?” My sister told Mom about the breakup with Peter.
    I shrugged, my hands wrapped around my mug of tea. “I haven’t had any time.” I took a sip from my mug. In addition to buying books, tea was another guilty pleasure. I always had a cup not too far. M&M’s, books, and tea. Life didn’t get much better than that. “Maybe when things are settled down and this murder is solved I might give Internet dating another try.”
    “Is it safe? You just never know who you’ll meet,” Mom asked with concern.
    “True. Especially when you stop by the Mills Pond seniors’ home,” I teased.
    Mom tossed her head back and gave a hearty laugh. “Your grandfather must have made quite a sight. I need to check on him more often. I forget the man is in his nineties and needs some looking after. But getting back to dating, the breakup with Peter happened for a reason, Alex.”
    I smiled. “I know. It didn’t work. It would never have lasted long term.”
    “Something better is out there for you. I’m sure you’ll meet the right person at the right time. These things have a way of happening when we least expect.”
    I reached over and patted my mother’s hand, lightly touching the gnarled joints of her fingers. “I’m sure it will.” I found myself thinking of a certain detective quite often lately and not always in connection with murder.
    “Aunt Alex, do you think Santa will bring me a Barbie doll? I want the new one and all the summer clothes to go with it.”
    I knew for a fact Santa got the doll with the new clothes and a few others I had picked out. Sam had them hidden in the front hall closet of the agency all wrapped up in Christmas paper.
    “Did you write him a letter asking for a Barbie?” I asked, glad to be off the subject of men.
    Kendall put her cup of hot chocolate down and licked her lips.
    “Yes. And a few other things, too. And Henry wants a new sled. I think he should get my old one and I should get a new one. I’m the oldest.”
    “I want a sled made out of wood with bright red runners.” Henry’s brown eyes lit up just thinking about it. The olive skin of our Italian heritage had come out in Henry. He looked the total opposite of his blond, light-eyed sister. “And I want a magician’s kit,” he said, as he stood next to me, his