Iced by Carol Higgins Clark Read Free Book Online Page B

hanging by itself. A few brightly colored polyester shirts were on the floor. Several hangers were askew. “It looks like someone might have left here in a hurry.”
    You would think that anyone who loves his Vicks would have brought along his terrycloth bathrobe, Regan mused. People get attached to their bathrobes like children to their security blankets, wearing them to tatters, often throwing them away only after a long-suffering family member buys them a new one.
    Nora had her arms folded and a thoughtful look was on her face. “Maybe he came back here after he was at the Grants’ and then took off.”
    “That would be taking a big risk,” Regan said. “If they discovered right away that the painting was gone and they knew who Santa was, this is the first place they’d have looked for him.”
    Officer Madden nodded in agreement. “That’s right, ma’am.”
    I hate being called ma’am, Regan thought.
    Regan was still holding Eben’s clunky boots. “Well, since it looks as if he left here of his own volition, I say there’s something strange about him not taking these with him.”
    “Very often when criminals are in a hurry, they make stupid mistakes,” Officer Madden said flatly. “But I wouldn’t wear boots with bells if I wanted to make a quick exit and disappear.”
    Regan was agitated. The whole thing didn’t sit right with her, and she was determined to find out what the heck had happened. When she’d met Eben at Louis’s place in California he’d told her how much he enjoyed being a caretaker. “I get to live in the place while the owners are away making money to support it.” When Louis admitted Eben’s past, she had questioned him on the recommendation to Kendra.
    Louis had said, “Regan, I believe Eben when he said that he wouldn’t even steal a salt shaker from a restaurant. He hated prison.”
    What had changed his mind?
    Luke was talking. “As I was saying, why don’t we check Eben’s apartment and see what else he might have left behind?”
    Not bothering to put on their coats, they exited the side door and headed back to the garage apartment. The door was unlocked and they hurried up the steps.
    This place isn’t so bad, Regan thought. The living room was small but cozy, with a little kitchenette at the end.
    Sam pushed open the door to the bedroom. “The bed is neatly made,” he pronounced. “Why wouldn’t it be? He probably hasn’t slept in it for months.”
    Well, Regan thought, I can see why he preferred the main house. The room was small. A portable television was resting on a folding chair near the bed. But the quilt is cheery enough, and you can’t knock the view of the Rockies. And it’s certainly peaceful.
    In Los Angeles, Regan regularly had to scare off a group of early-morning walkers who often paused outside her first-floor bedroom window for a loud chat before they went on their separate ways. It always called for an indignant “DO YOU MIND?” Eben didn’t have to worry about that here. It was a perfect place to find solitude. Or a perfect place to be secluded if that’s what you wanted, she thought.
    Ceremoniously, Sam opened the closet. A couple of sweaters were folded on the shelf. A handful of work shirts, jeans, and corduroys were hanging on old wire hangers. Scuffed-up shoes were thrown around the closet floor.
    “Not many clothes here, Luke,” Sam said. “No Santa suit, either.”
    “Come to think of it, I don’t think he owned a suit,” Kendra said. “As I recall, he had a blue blazer that he sometimes wore.” She turned to Luke. “He wasn’t the type to get too dressed up.”
    “No sign of a blue blazer, no, sir,” Sam said.
    The top drawer of the dresser was not closed properly. It looked as if it had gotten stuck on the tracks when someone tried to shove it shut. It squeaked as Sam pulled it open. “It looks to me as if he didn’t want to leave without his socks and underwear. A man can’t do without those, now can he?” He held