The Nightingale Before Christmas by Donna Andrews Read Free Book Online

rejected work that was done according to her orders and hasn’t paid him.”
    â€œHe’s a jerk,” I said.
    â€œWell, she’s no prize either, but I have to admit, the whole downstairs of her house is a sorry mess.” He shrugged. “It’s for the courts to decide. All I need to worry about is finding him for the latest set of papers. He wasn’t at home last night, and his office hadn’t seen him but said to come over here.”
    â€œHe left here maybe half an hour ago,” I said. “Not voluntarily. I’d offer to call him, but he might misinterpret it as me backing down from kicking him out. Maybe you could get Randall to call him.”
    â€œThanks,” he said. “I’ve got his number.”
    â€œBy the way,” I said. “Any chance you could get Randall to hire you to do a little detecting here at the show house?”
    â€œDetecting what?”
    â€œSomeone’s been stealing packages,” I said. “Stuff the decorators have ordered. None of the packages have been fabulously valuable, but there have been so many of them that it probably adds up to hundreds of dollars by now. And the whole thing’s got some of the decorators at each other’s throats.”
    â€œNot that I’d mind investigating, but have the police done what they can?”
    â€œNow that’s a good question,” I said. “I keep telling the designers to make a police report about it, but who knows if any of them have done so. I’ll talk to the chief tomorrow.”
    â€œGood,” he said. “And I’ll talk to Randall about hiring me to supplement their efforts.”
    He headed upstairs after Randall.
    I looked at my watch. Almost time for me to leave, to meet Michael and the twins for an afternoon of caroling, Christmas shopping, and eventually dinner. But with so much going on, I couldn’t leave my post unguarded. I’d asked my cousin Rose Noire to fill in for me this afternoon. Where was she?
    Probably out delivering more of the customized, organic herbal gift baskets that she sold by the hundreds over the holiday season. I was still getting used to the notion of my flakey, New-Age cousin as the owner of a thriving small business. I’d have felt guilty, asking her to take the time away from her work, if I hadn’t been sacrificing so much anvil time myself.
    â€œMeg?” I looked up to see Martha standing nearby. “Any chance I could go up and take a few measurements in the master bedroom?”
    â€œTechnically that’s still Clay’s room,” I said.
    â€œUnderstood. And if the committee decides to let him stay, I’ll just have wasted a few minutes of my time. No problem. But if they decide to kick him out, I want to be able to say that yes, I absolutely can get the room ready by opening day.”
    I thought about it for a few moments. Mother and Eustace still had a lot to do in their rooms. Sarah would be fighting the clock to undo what Clay had done to her room. And I couldn’t see handing the master bedroom over to any of the others. If we kicked Clay out, Martha would be the logical person to take over the master bedroom.
    â€œI feel responsible,” she said.
    â€œFor everything Clay has done?”
    â€œWell, not exactly,” she said. “But I am to blame for getting him into the decorating business in the first place. He used to work for me— briefly . Till he got too big for his britches and struck out on his own. Taking half my clients with him. The female half,” she added, with a bitter laugh. “A few of them started crawling back when they figured out they’d made a mistake, but by that time it was too late. My business was folding.”
    No wonder Martha felt so miffed at Clay getting the room she’d wanted. If only I’d known from the start how much hostility there was between them.
    â€œTake your measurements,” I said.