Read Online The Nightingale Before Christmas by Donna Andrews - Free Book Online Page A

good-bye. But he’s known to be litigious.”
    â€œAnd you think he’d sue if we really kicked him out.” I sighed. “You’re probably right. And I doubt if he’d win, but beating him would cost a lot of money.”
    â€œProbably more than the show house will clear. So we’re counting on you. Just hold it together till the opening.”
    â€œWill do. Have we fixed everything he did today?”
    â€œIt was going well when I had to leave. I didn’t have a chance to drop by after the concert—the committee’s been meeting ever since it ended.”
    A two-hour meeting? To decide to do nothing at all? Not for the first time, I uttered a small, silent prayer of thanks that I had resisted Mother’s attempts to talk me into joining the committee.
    â€œI think I should go down and check, then,” I said. “How are the roads?”
    â€œRoads are fine, but why not wait until morning to check?”
    â€œBecause I won’t be able to sleep till I do,” I said. “I’ll call you if I spot any problems, and then if anyone complains, we can say we already know and already have a plan to deal with it.”
    â€œE-mail me.” He was obviously stifling a yawn. “Because I hope to be asleep in about ten minutes.”
    I decided that since Michael should arrive soon, I’d wait and get his opinion on the roads. Randall drove a truck and prided himself on being able to drive on anything the weather threw at us. Michael had a more normal view on snow. I tried to concentrate on my Christmas cards.
    By the time Michael arrived it was nearly midnight. Rose Noire had said goodnight and gone upstairs an hour before, and Rob was yawning. I was still wide awake.
    â€œHow was the rehearsal?” I asked. “And how are the roads?”
    â€œFine and fine,” he said. “It’s a nice, light snow. Easy for the plows to keep up with. But you’re not going out again, are you?”
    I had started putting on my coat.
    â€œI want to check on the house,” I said, as I stuffed my phone in my pocket and pulled on a thick wool cap. “I told you about all the stuff Clay ruined. Some of it happened last night, when I went home before he did. I like to be the last one out of the house, and while I wouldn’t have given up this afternoon and evening with you and the boys for anything, now I’m anxious. And I want to see if Randall’s workmen have finished fixing everything. Make sure there are no new problems. As long as you don’t think the roads are unsafe.”
    Michael shook his head, but he knew better than to argue with me when I was in what he called my “taking-charge mode.”
    â€œDrive carefully,” he said, giving me a quick kiss.
    The snow, though steady, was light, and all fifteen or so miles of the road from our house to town had been well and recently plowed—fringe benefits, I suspected, of the county crew knowing Michael and I were among Mayor Randall Shiffley’s closest friends. I found the drive curiously exhilarating. The Twinmobile, with its four-wheel drive, handled the road beautifully, and there wasn’t another car in sight. At first I saw only snowy fields and snowflakes drifting down outside, and heard only the faint swish of my tires and the steady rhythm of the windshield wipers. As I drew closer to town, I began to see houses and fences strung with Christmas lights. The growing layer of snow on the outdoor reindeer and Santas made them more obviously fake, but I liked the effect of the snow on the manger scenes and snowmen.
    I pulled up in front of the show house and parked. The house was dark and mine was the only car in front of it, though there were a few nearby. I could see faint car-shaped indentations that suggested some of the designers had stayed until the snow had started, but the places where they’d parked were covered with at least an inch of snow by now.