Read Online The Kid Who Stole Christmas by Linda Stevens - Free Book Online Page B

pause. “Sorry.”
    “For what?” Rick asked. “My lot in life or for thinking I was up to no good?”
    “Both, I suppose.” Shannon wished she could see his face. “Can we have some lights?”
    “This way.” He moved closer and held his hand where she could see it. “I have a place in back. The situation isn’t quite as dire as you seem to think.”
    “I didn’t mean...” She trailed off with a sigh and took his hand. It was still cold. Cold hands, warm heart? “Look, if you don’t want me here, just say the word.”
    “You followed me for a reason, didn’t you?” Rick asked.
    “I want to talk. About Leo. Among other things.”
    He squeezed her hand slightly. “That sounds promising. Come on. And watch your step.”
    That was difficult, since she couldn’t even see her feet, but he led the way so confidently, it wasn’t necessary. It was obvious he had made this trek in the dark before. Shannon had to assume there was a reason he did so without the aid of a flashlight. She doubted that reason had anything to do with not having the money to buy one. To her, it seemed as if Rick was a man with something to hide.
    “We’re not supposed to be in here, are we?” she asked.
    Rick smiled mischievously. “Why? Does the idea of breaking and entering excite you?”
    She had to admit it did, a little. Perhaps for the same reason Rick excited her. Hers was a fairly quiet life-style, and he offered the prospect of something different, maybe even a tad dangerous. Of course, she had no intention of telling him that. But somehow, she suspected he already knew.
    “I was just asking,” Shannon replied. “You know. In case the night watchman comes along. I’d like to know whether to wave hello or run.”
    “Relax. We’re supposed to be here. Or at least I am,” he added pointedly. “I just don’t like to advertise my comings and goings. Seems safer that way, considering the neighborhood.”
    While Shannon pondered this information, Rick let go of her hand for a moment. She heard the jangle of keys in a lock and then he took her hand again, gently guiding her into what she could tell was some sort of smaller space. Finally, he turned on a light. Shannon blinked in surprise.
    She found herself in makeshift living quarters, rather like a small, sparsely furnished motel room. There was a single bed on one side—neatly made, she noticed—as well as a nightstand and a chest of drawers. In the middle of the room sat a small table with two chairs. The opposite side was dominated by a large comfortable-looking armchair, behind which stood a reading lamp. That and the bedside lamp went on with the same switch Rick had turned on next to the now-closed door, bathing the room in a warm glow. Against the far wall, a little electric space heater purred to life, as well.
    Though the furniture was old-fashioned, everything was clean and well taken care of, giving the little place a cozy, homespun ambience. In Shannon’s opinion, it needed a few plants and some pictures on the walls. A window would also be nice. But under the circumstances, she decided to keep that opinion to herself.
    “Nice,” she said simply.
    “Better than some places I’ve been in,” Rick agreed.
    He removed his snow-dampened coat and hung it on a peg near the door, then motioned for Shannon to do the same and hung hers up carefully, as well. He then had a seat at the table. Shannon joined him. Rick looked at her curiously.
    “Well?” he asked.
    Where to begin? Shannon wondered. “Who are you, Rick Hastings, and what are you doing working as a Santa Claus for Lyon’s Department Store?”
    “Who am I? That’s a question I’ve been asking myself for the last three years,” Rick replied, returning her appraising gaze. “I’m not entirely sure I know the answer yet. But I’m getting close. Why do you care, Shannon O’Shaughnessy?”
    She smiled. “I did say I liked the direct approach, didn’t I?” Shannon thought it over for a moment,