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The Inn at Holiday Bay
Books 7 – 9

By

Kathi Daley
 This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual
events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2021 by Katherine Daley

Version 1.0

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.
Table of Contents
Note in the Nutcracker
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Blizzard in the Bay
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Proof in the Photo
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
The Inn at Holiday Bay:
Note in the Nutcracker

by

Kathi Daley
 Chapter 1

Twas a week before Christmas and all through the inn… I paused
and smiled at my computer screen. I’d been trying to work on the
thriller that was due to my editor in less than two months, but all I’d
come up with were meaningless phrases that seemed to pop in my
head as huge snowflakes drifted gently to the ground outside my
window. I had to admit that when combined with the scent of
evergreen from the bushy fir in the corner of my bedroom, the
bright red bows I’d tied to my bedposts, and the gentle snoring
generated by my Maine Coon cat, Rufus, as he slept soundly on my
pillow, the setting really was quite magical.
“How about some background music?” I said to my dog, Molly,
who was laying on a dog pillow next to my feet. She thumped her
tail in agreement as I turned on the radio to the gentle lyrics of O
Holy Night. The popular carol generated feelings of nostalgia, which
caused me to lean back in my chair, close my eyes, and really
embrace the perfection of the moment. Taking a deep breath, I
allowed my thoughts to turn to the cookies my best friend and
roommate, Georgia Carter, was baking in the kitchen. In addition to
being the manager of the inn I’d purchased on a whim just over a
year ago, she was a heck of a good cook and baker. Her reputation
for original and creative dishes had earned her a place in a
Christmas cookie contest that was going to be aired on local cable
during the Christmas Eve edition of the popular show Coastal Maine
Living. The competition was open to entrants across the country, so
being chosen as a contestant in the final round was actually a really
big thing, and Georgia had been trying out new recipes for weeks.
After a moment of blissful serenity, I opened my eyes and looked
back toward the computer screen. I exited the page where I’d been
doodling thoughts of Christmas past, present, and future and
returned my attention to my work in progress. I had to admit if only
to myself, that I really didn’t have much. The title page was pretty
awesome: Currents from the Past by New York Times Bestselling
Author Abagail Sullivan.
I smiled once again. I loved being a writer and really wouldn’t
give it up for any other profession, but I had to wonder if my
decision to leave the romance genre for books that were classified as
thriller and suspense hadn’t been a mistake. Given my total lack of
usable words in spite of the hours I’d spent sitting at my computer, I
was fairly certain my doubt as to the direction my career had taken
was justified. The last thriller I’d published had been a huge success,
and I knew I should ride that wave, but somehow writing about
serial killers and husbands with deep dark secrets didn’t fill the
space in my soul the way writing about family, holidays, best friends,
and the perfect guy once had.
Maybe I needed to step away from my career and think about a
change. Of course, Currents from the Past was under contract, so I
did have that to deal with.
I might not be able to shelve my work in progress and write the
story my soul was yearning to write at this very minute, but I could
take a break and see if Georgia needed a taste tester for her latest
creation. Having different types of cookies to taste each day had
been a lot of fun and oh so delicious, but I supposed if I didn’t get
up out of my chair and get some exercise, I’d end December ten
pounds heavier than I’d started the month.
“Oh, good,” Georgia said as I emerged from the bedroom, which
also served as my office. “I’m ready for today’s tasting.”
“You know I’m here for you,” I smiled.
She passed me a tray. “These are chocolate pralines. They are
really more of a candy, but I modified the recipe somewhat so they
would qualify as a cookie.”
I took a bite. “They’re delicious. Are those hazelnuts I taste?”
 Georgia grinned and nodded. “There are hazelnuts in the recipe,
along with fine oats, gingerbread spice, three types of chocolate,
and a lot of other good quality ingredients.”
“I really like them.” I took another bite. “A lot. I’m not sure if I
like these or the creamy caramel and pecan cookies you made
yesterday better. Of course, the cherry fizz delights you made the
day before that were delicious as well. In fact, everything you’ve
tried has been so wonderful that I’m not sure how you will choose
which recipe to enter in the contest.”
Georgia washed her hands and then dried them on a Christmas
towel. The kitchen in the cottage, like the rest of the cottage where
Georgia and I lived, had received the full holiday treatment. “I’m
having the guests at the inn taste the cookies I make while they are
with us. Then before they leave, I ask them to rank the cookies
they’ve tasted. So far, everyone has been happy to help out. I know
that folks have favorites based on their own personal tastes, but I’m
hoping that in the end, the best recipe will win out. And even if I
don’t get the feedback I’m hoping for, I think the guests enjoy the
extra treats and the opportunity to be involved.”
“I bet they do. Taste testing your recipes is indeed a sweet gig.” I
popped the final bite of my cookie into my mouth.
“Jeremy and Annabelle have been providing their input as well,
which really helps on those days we don’t have guests. I think
Jeremy liked the double fudge chocolates I baked last week, and
Annabelle is still talking about the peppermint creams.”
Jeremy Slater worked at the inn and lived in the converted
basement, along with his eight-year-old niece, Annabelle, who was
living with Jeremy while her mother was working overseas. Jeremy
took care of the heavy work required to keep the inn running, such
as snow removal, yard maintenance, and general repairs, while
Georgia acted as the inn manager, head cook, and marketing guru.
“Speaking of guests,” I said after a brief pause. “I remember
seeing we have a whole new group checking in this week. Will they
be with us through the holiday?”
 Georgia nodded. “If you remember, we discussed the fact that it
would be easier and more relaxing to have long-term guests over
the Christmas holiday rather than guests checking in and out every
day, so I experimented with a seven day minimum over Christmas.”
“And did you get many takers?”
“Actually, I did. In fact, all of the guests who will be with us for
Christmas Eve and Christmas Day will be with us for between seven
and fourteen days. The first of these long-term guests will be
checking in tomorrow.”
That did sound good. I’d found that our guests quickly became
family, and it would be nice to have a bit more consistency over the
holiday. “So, who do we have checking in this week?”
Georgia began putting food away while I grabbed a second
cookie. I figured if I gained too much weight and needed to diet, I
could get to it once January rolled around. “The first of our
Christmas arrivals is a woman named Mylie Sanders. Mylie is
checking in tomorrow and will be with us for a full fourteen days.
She is coming to Holiday Bay to meet her soulmate.”
“Soulmate?”
Georgia began filling the sink with sudsy water. “Mylie recently
turned thirty, which I think got her biological clock ticking. When she
made the reservation, she told me that a psychic told her that if she
spent Christmas in Holiday Bay, she would meet her one true love.
She wasn’t sure exactly how long she needed to be here, so she
decided on two weeks.”
“So, she thinks she will meet her one true love here at the inn?” I
clarified.
Georgia answered. “She wasn’t really sure if she would meet the
man of her dreams here at the inn, or if she’d meet him in town, but
the psychic did suggest that she stay at the inn, so she booked a
room. As I mentioned, she checks in tomorrow, and will be with us
through New Year’s.”
 “I can’t wait to meet Mylie. She sounds like an interesting
woman.”
“We actually spoke on the phone for quite a while,” Georgia said.
“She seemed cheerful and energetic, and I really think she’ll be a
fun individual to get to know. And with the added mystery of the
man the psychic predicted, I’m sure her stay will be entertaining for
all of us.”
I broke off a corner of the cookie. “Do we have any single men of
comparable age staying with us at the same time that Mylie will be
here?”
“Three,” Georgia answered. “Which, if you think about it, is pretty
unusual. So far, single men in their thirties have not really been our
target clientele, although admittedly, we have had a few thirtyish
men who have stayed with us while they were in town for reasons
related to jobs.”
“Such as Ryan Steadman when he was here to interview at the
bank and Noah Daniels while he was here for his job interview for
the church.”
“Exactly.”
“So, who are the three lucky bachelors who will be staying with
us this month?” I asked.
“Riley Camden is checking in on Friday and will also be here
through New Year’s,” Georgia answered. “He is thirty-two, single,
and in town to do a story on the seasonal offerings that can be
found in Holiday Bay and the surrounding area.”
“So, he’s a travel writer?”
She nodded. “He writes a travel blog. I checked it out, and it’s
really rather good, and it has a huge audience. Riley’s blog is a
weekly offering with over a hundred thousand followers. I’m hoping
to convince him to give the inn a shout out at some point during his
stay. I figure that a shout out in a blog with that sort of circulation
could really boost our reservations. Especially if we can get him to
include photos and a schedule of special events.”
 I reached down and picked up a bright red ornament that one of
the animals had knocked off the tree and had rolled across the
room. “That would be fantastic. Especially if he will publish the event
schedule. And I agree that if Riley has a nice time with us and he
writes about his experience during his stay, the added publicity could
really help us. Let’s be sure to give him the VIP treatment.”
Georgia giggled. “I give everyone the VIP treatment.”
I supposed she did. In many ways, Georgia was more like an Inn
Mother than a mere manager. “So, who are Mylie’s other two
potential suitors?”
“Andrew Madison. He is a thirty-four-year-old forensic accountant
who will be in town to visit his great aunt. He checks in on Sunday
and will be with us through December twenty-ninth. I guess Andrew
spent quite a bit of time here in Holiday Bay as a child since his
parents traveled extensively. During those times when his parents
were away touring the world, Andrew would come to Holiday Bay
and stay with his aunt. When we spoke on the phone, he mentioned
that those childhood summers are some of the best times in his life.”
“A career as a forensic accountant seems both interesting and
impressive,” I commented. “And I love the fact that he is in town to
spend the holiday with his aunt. He sounds like he would make a
good husband.”
“That’s what I thought when I spoke to him. Of course, Mylie
isn’t here just to find a husband. She is here to find her soulmate.
I’m not sure exactly how one is to determine who is and who is not
a soulmate, but I imagine that Mylie is looking for a deeper
relationship than just a vacation fling.”
“Based on what you’ve said, I’m sure that’s true.” I got up,
replaced the ornament on the tree, and then I headed to the
refrigerator for a glass of milk to go with the rest of my cookie. “So,
who is bachelor number three?”
“Mark Westgate. Mark is checking in on Saturday and will be with
us through December twenty-seventh. He is a successful developer
who will be in town to purchase a piece of property where he hopes
to build a high-end resort over the next two years. He is single,
although based on what I’ve dug up, it seems he is single because
he is married to his job. Still, he appears to be smart, and according
to the photo on his website, he is also very good looking. He may be
too much of a workaholic for Mylie, but at thirty-eight, he might be
feeling ready to settle down. I spoke to Lacy about it, and she
actually thinks Mark is a good candidate.”
Lacy Parker was a good friend and the wife of my contractor,
Lonnie Parker. The couple had six children who I adored.
“Anyone else with theories as to Mylie’s perfect match at this
point?” I wondered.
Georgia dipped her hands into the sink full of sudsy water.
“Jeremy thinks that she’ll end up going for someone gorgeous like
Riley, and Nikki has voiced her opinion that she will probably go for a
guy like Andrew, who seems settled and dependable.” Nikki Peyton
was our neighbor, and Georgia’s boyfriend, Tanner Peyton’s, younger
sister. She worked part-time at the inn, helping out with the laundry
and cleaning.
“And what do you think?” I asked.
“I think that someone like Riley seems the most interesting.
Although it sounds as if Mylie is looking for settled and not
interesting.”
“I would agree with that. So, it sounds like Mylie and her
bachelors will occupy four of the six rooms. Who will be occupying
the other two?”
“Christy and Haley Baldwin will be in the attic room,” Georgia
answered. “I wasn’t sure we’d be able to fit her in, but I had a few
cancellations, and I juggled things around so that we can
accommodate her for her entire stay in Holiday Bay.”
I found myself smiling. “I’m so glad it worked for Christy and
Haley to be with us. I’ve really missed them.” Christy was a widow,
who had brought her daughter, Haley, to Holiday Bay last month to
spend Thanksgiving with her deceased husband’s parents. During
her stay over Thanksgiving, we’d discussed the fact that her in-laws
wanted her to move to Holiday Bay where they could help out, but
Christy had reservations due mostly to the fact that she feared her
in-laws might try to take over her life as well as Haley’s if they lived
in such close proximity. Christy wanted her daughter to know her
father’s parents, but at what cost? Although Christy did have an
added incentive to make the move. During her stay in November,
she’d met Noah Daniels who’d been staying at the inn, while in town
to interview for the position as the new pastor for the community’s
church. He’d taken the job and had settled into his new home in
town. During the time both guests were at the inn, it seemed that
Noah and Christy had really hit it off, and, in my opinion, if they had
the opportunity to spend more time together, they might even end
up making a connection of the romantic kind.
“I spoke to Christy at length yesterday,” Georgia informed me as
she bent down to greet Molly, who had wandered out of the
bedroom. Molly offered her a paw and was rewarded with a piece of
a homemade dog cookie Georgia kept on hand. Of course, that had
her Newfoundland, Ramos, lumbering over from his place in front of
the fire as well. “She and Haley are both very excited about coming
to Holiday Bay for Christmas, and they are extra excited that they
are going to be able to spend the entire two weeks with us. They
arrive on December nineteenth, and will be with us until January
second.”
“And the sixth room?” I asked.
“Bud and Beth Trenton. I’m afraid their story is a bit sadder. They
lost their only son in Afghanistan last year and didn’t want to stay
home where they would be reminded of him at every turn, yet they
also didn’t want to skip Christmas, so they decided on a holiday at
the coast. They saw our ad and thought the inn would be a perfect
place to nurse their broken hearts. They will be with us for just one
week and will check in on December twenty-third.”
Now my heart was breaking. I knew what it was like to lose a
child. I’d lost my infant son two years ago, so I understood how
devastated they must feel. I had to give them credit for not just
taking to their bed and pulling the blankets over their heads until
January. That is exactly what I’d done that first year. “We’ll be sure
they have a special holiday that honors their son and creates a
space in their hearts for healing.”
Georgia smiled warmly at me. “That is one of the reasons why I
adore you. You seem to know exactly what to say.”
“I might be good with words, but you are good with people.” I
drank the last of my milk. “You know, I am really looking forward to
the holiday this year, and I can’t wait to meet Mylie. She sounds like
just the sort of person to bring the spirit of the holiday to the inn.”
“I agree. When I spoke to her on the phone, I just knew she was
going to fit right in. She even seemed excited about the ornament
decorating and the other preholiday events we have planned.”
“I’m pretty excited about the events we have planned as well.
And the inn feels just right with all the decorating you and Jeremy
have done.”
“We really tried to create a Norman Rockwell moment.”
“Did the wreath we ordered for the inn’s front door ever show
up?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No, but I got an email yesterday that said
it would be delivered before five today. I left instructions for the
delivery guy to come around to the cottage since I knew we were
going to be between guests for a few days, and I wanted to use the
kitchen here to practice for the cookie bakeoff.”
I glanced out the window at the falling snow. “I hadn’t realized
the inn was going to be totally empty between guests.”
“Initially, I didn’t think we’d have a break either, but the last of
the weekend guests checked out yesterday, and the first of the
Christmas guests won’t check in until tomorrow. At first, I was sorry
that we weren’t booked straight through December as I thought at
one point we would be, but then I realized that with the place empty
for a day, we could really get in there and do some deep cleaning. I
spoke to Nikki, and she is coming in after her job at the diner, and
Jeremy plans to help out once he gets home from picking up
Annabelle after pageant rehearsal. I’m going to finish up here and
meet them over there.”
“I’ll help,” I offered. I didn’t usually participate in the chores or
the management of the inn, but I needed a break from writing, and
mopping floors and washing windows seemed like as good a
diversion as anything. “I’ll call Colt and see if he wants to bring pizza
by for everyone who will be working this evening.”
“Is Colt planning to come by?” Georgia asked about Colt Wilder,
the man who had become one of my very best friends and provided
law enforcement for the town.
“He mentioned that he might. He’s going to be leaving to take his
niece and nephew to Disney World for a few days and wanted to see
me before he left.”
Colt’s sister and her husband had been killed in a car accident
not long before I moved to Holiday Bay, and while their children
lived with Colt’s parents, their grandparents, he did what he could to
help out during the summers and school holidays.
“That sounds like fun. Will he be back by Christmas?”
I nodded. “They leave tomorrow and will be back late in the day
on the twenty-third. He is taking the kids to his parents for
Christmas, however, so I doubt I’ll see him until he gets back from
there. I think he plans to drive home on the twenty-sixth or twenty-
seventh.”
“I’m sorry he won’t be here for Christmas, but I do understand
him wanting to be with his family.”
“He’s actually off until after the first, so he plans to spend New
Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day with us. I know we’ll have a full inn,
but I thought it would be fun to have an early gathering for the
guests here at the inn, and then we can migrate to Tanner’s and
spend New Year’s Eve with friends. I asked him about it when I saw
him a few days ago, and he seemed to be all for it.”
“That sounds fun,” Georgia agreed. “I know Tanner is planning a
big blowout this year and has even invited some of his trainers to
ring in the New Year at his place.”
Tanner owned Peyton Academy, a training facility for search and
rescue and service dogs.
I glanced out the window. The snow was still coming down at a
steady rate. The outdoor lights that Jeremy had strung along the
eaves and around the windows of both the inn and the cottage
provided a cheery feel to an otherwise dark day. Georgia had added
lights to the shrubs and small trees as well, so the entire estate
really did feel like a fairyland.
“It looks like a delivery truck is in the drive,” I said.
“Oh, good. That should be the wreath for the inn’s front door.
When I’d ordered a custom wreath made from fresh greenery, I had
no idea it would take so long for it to get here.” Georgia pulled her
jacket on, opened the door, and stepped onto the wrap-around deck.
Once the truck stopped, she walked over and spoke to the driver.
After a moment, she came back to the cottage. “The driver has the
wreath, but he has something else as well.”
“Oh, what is it?” I asked.
“A life-size nutcracker. Apparently, it is a gift from Lonnie and
Lacy.”
I smiled. “I wonder if it’s the nutcracker we saw at the antique
store a few weeks ago.” I’d admired it, but after much deliberation,
I’d decided it was too expensive and that I needed to tighten my
belt a bit, so I hadn’t bought it. “I guess Lacy must have bought it
for me. She did make up an excuse to go back to the store after
we’d all left. She’d said she’d left her mittens inside, but I’d had a
feeling she was up to something.”
“I know Lonnie and Lacy wanted to get you a special gift,”
Georgia said. “On many occasions, they both voiced how much it
meant to them that you trusted Lonnie with the remodel on the inn.”
“He did an excellent job. It is I who should be looking for a
special gift for them, but I am pretty happy about the gift they
bought for me.”
 “The delivery guy wants to know what to do with it. He has a
handcart and is willing to bring it inside. It’s made of wood and close
to six feet tall, so he says it is heavy.”
“Let’s put it in front of the window next to the fireplace in the
parlor,” I answered. “That way, everyone can enjoy it, it won’t be in
the way of normal traffic patterns, and we won’t have to lug it
upstairs.”
She nodded. “Sounds good. I’ll show the guy where to take it.”
“I’ll pull on my boots and meet you over there.”
I was going to have to call Lacy with a huge thank you. The
nutcracker really was exquisite. It was really old and in excellent
condition. I supposed it was somewhat impractical since it would be
hard to move around, and I would need to find a place to store it for
eleven months out of the year, but from the moment I saw it, I
wanted it.
“So, what do you think?” Georgia asked, taking a step back once
the delivery driver had positioned the tall statue where I’d indicated.
The tall figure provided just the right accent to top off the room.
“I think it’s perfect.” I handed the driver an envelope with a
generous tip. “Thank you so much for bringing it in. I’m not sure
how we would have managed without you.”
“No problem. Merry Christmas.” With that, the man left.
I turned to Georgia. “Isn’t he great?”
“I think it’s perfect. It gives the entire room personality. I wonder
how old it actually is.”
“The woman at the antique store told us that she was certain it
was more than fifty years old, but she wasn’t sure of the exact age.”
I smiled as I really took it in. “I think our nutcracker is going to
make a wonderful conversation starter.”
“I agree. There is something about the statue that just seems to
scream the fact that if he could speak, he’d have an interesting story
to tell.”
 Georgia looked up, as did I at the sound of the door opening and
then closing, followed by footsteps on the hardwood floor.
“Hey, guys, what’s going on?” Nikki asked, after poking her head
in through the door and then joining us in the parlor.
“Lonnie and Lacy sent us this life-size nutcracker,” I answered.
“Awesome.” She stepped forward for a better look. “Annabelle is
going to love it. She was just telling me the other day that she’d
gone to see The Nutcracker with her mother last Christmas, and how
it had turned out to be one of the best days they’d spent together.”
“It is sad that her mother couldn’t make it home this year,” I
commented.
Nikki nodded. “It is, but Annabelle seems to be having fun with
Hannah.” Nikki was referring to Annabelle’s best friend, Hannah
Danson. “And I know she’s excited to be part of the Holiday Bay
Christmas Pageant. She has been talking nonstop about it since she
was cast as the snow princess.”
“She has seemed excited about the part,” I agreed.
“And we are planning a lot of activities between now and
Christmas that an eight-year-old will enjoy,” Nikki added. “I’m sure
we can keep her occupied.”
“We can, and Jeremy is really good with her. He’ll make sure she
has the perfect Christmas in spite of the fact that her mother isn’t
here.” As I said it, I was determined to make sure Annabelle’s
Christmas was the best we could provide.
Georgia walked over to the window and looked out. “The snow is
coming down harder.”
“I noticed that,” I answered. “The weather report is calling for
clearing overnight. I’m hoping it is clear this weekend for the sleigh
rides and snowman competition we plan to sponsor here at the inn.”
“I think the forecast is for a mild weekend. If it does snow, we’ll
focus on wreath making and ornament decorating inside.”
The conversation paused as the front door slammed shut. Must
be Annabelle. I’d talked to her about not slamming doors, but she
was only eight, and eight-year-olds tended to slam doors.
“Anyone here?” Annabelle called out.
“We’re in the parlor,” Georgia called back.
I could hear the sound of running feet in the instant before
Annabelle appeared in the doorway. “Oh, wow! Look at that.” She
walked over to the nutcracker and touched his arm. “He is beautiful.
Just like the nutcracker in the ballet.”
“He is pretty awesome,” Jeremy seconded. “Where did you get
it?”
“It’s a gift from Lonnie and Lacy,” I said. “Isn’t he great?”
“He really is,” Jeremy agreed.
“I love his hat, but the chin strap is covering his mouth. Aren’t
nutcrackers supposed to have mouths that open and close?”
“The strap from the hat is hiding the nutcracker’s mouth, but I
checked when he first arrived and confirmed it is there behind the
strap,” I said.
“I feel like the fact that you can’t see his mouth gives him a
shifty look,” Jeremy said.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’m not sure exactly.” He stared at the statue for another
minute. “It’s something with the eyes. They look guarded. Like he
has a secret.”
“Maybe he really does come to life at night,” Annabelle giggled.
Georgia smiled. “That would be fun. Maybe you can get up in the
middle of the night and dance with him.”
“And maybe there will be sugarplum fairies.” Annabelle twirled
around the room.
Having an eight-year-old in the family really did add an element
to our lives that I enjoyed. “How was the rehearsal for the pageant?”
I asked.
“It was really, really good,” Annabelle said after she stopped
pirouetting around the room. “The play is on Saturday, and we are
going to do a full dress rehearsal on Friday. The director was worried
that not everyone knew their lines, but I think everyone does. Are
you coming?” She looked around the room. “Are all of you coming?”
“We wouldn’t miss it for the world,” I confirmed.
“Good. I really want you to see my snow princess costume. It is
all silvery and sparkly. It really is the best costume in the whole
play.”
“What is Hannah going to be?” Georgia asked.
“Actually, she is playing the piano and doesn’t really have a
costume.”
Hannah was Annabelle’s best friend and an accomplished concert
pianist in spite of her young age.
“She is wearing a red dress with black tights and black shoes,”
Annabelle added.
“Well, I can’t wait to see her all dressed up then,” I answered.
“Do we have cookies to taste?” Annabelle asked, seeming to
grow bored with the current conversation.
“We do,” Georgia said. “I brought a plate over so anyone who
wants in on the tasting should follow me to the kitchen.”
Jeremy, Nikki, and Annabelle all followed Georgia out of the
room. I figured the two cookies I’d had should do me through
dinner. I adjusted the lights on the tree and then stood back to look
at the nutcracker one more time. Jeremy was right. The nutcracker
did have shifty eyes, which made him look like he was keeping a
secret. I took out my phone, snapped a photo, and sent it off to
Lacy. Then I dialed her number. I wanted to thank her and let her
know the huge decoration had arrived. The nutcracker really had
been a thoughtful and heartfelt, if somewhat impractical gift. I
supposed that the logistics of storing him could be an issue, yet he
really did seem to add an element to the room that seemed to pull
the other decorations together in a special way.
Of course, as we would soon learn, the real magic of the
nutcracker was the secret he had kept for more than fifty years. A
secret, I was to learn, that would be steeped with both warmth and
heartache and would be revealed to us as the week unfolded.
 Chapter 2

The cleaning party from the previous evening had actually turned
out to be a lot of fun. Colt had stopped by with beer and pizza, and
after Tanner heard that the cleaning party had turned into a bit of a
party, party, he’d come over and joined us as well. I called Lacy to
thank her for the nutcracker, which opened the door for me to invite
her and her family to join us, so while very little deep cleaning was
actually accomplished, fun was had by all.
As the owner of the inn, I naturally wanted it to be fully booked
as often as possible, but I did admit that I really enjoyed those odd
breaks when the place was free of guests, and I could treat it like a
home. I enjoyed having my friends over, even if the fare of the
evening was takeout pizza. The cottage Georgia and I lived in was
too small to have more than a couple of guests at a time, so the
only time we ever really hosted a group of friends was during the
summer when we could grill outdoors, or during the gaps between
guests during the winter.
Colt and his niece and nephew had left early this morning for
Disney World. I would miss him, but I was sure they’d have fun, and
given the complex nature of my emotions when it came to this really
wonderful guy, I found I was actually happy for a brief time apart. I
know there are those who feel that Colt and I are perfect for each
other and that it is silly for me to want to keep our relationship in
the friend zone, but I’d lost my husband a little over two years ago,
and while many feel two years is a significant amount to time to
mourn, I just don’t feel ready to move on yet.
And then there were little hints that kept popping up that
suggested Ben may not have been totally honest with me during our
relationship. I really wanted to hope he had been, but with all the
red flags, I had to admit there were times I wondered if I’d known
him at all. It was those feelings of doubt, mixed in with emotions
brought about by deep mourning that had me messed up a lot of
the time.
But that was not something I was going to dwell on over the
holiday. It felt like it had been much too long since I’d been able to
embrace the magic of the season. Two years ago, my loss had been
fresh and I’d barely even noticed the festive decorations or magical
feel of the season, last year had been better, but my grief had still
cut deeply. This year, I thought enough time had passed that I could
once again open my heart to all that the season had to offer.
As for Colt, I knew I’d miss him, but I was sure I’d speak to him
on the phone during his time away. Before he’d left yesterday, he’d
promised to call, and I’d promised to do likewise. I’m not exactly
sure when or even how it had happened, but we’d settled into a
pattern of chatting with each other for at least a few minutes every
day.
I hummed to the carols playing over the stereo as I folded the
clothes I’d laundered that morning. I was alone in the cottage today
and found that I liked the peace and quiet quite a lot. Our first
holiday guest, Mylie Sanders, was due to arrive today, so Georgia
had moved her cookie baking experiment to the kitchen in the inn so
that she would be on hand when Mylie showed up. The cookies that
Georgia created each day had become a pattern I’d grown to look
forward to. I couldn’t wait to see what she’d come up with today. So
far, every cookie she’d made had been delicious, but then again,
everything that Georgia made turned out to be delicious.
I glanced out the window to see that the snow had stopped, at
least temporarily, but the sky was still dark and heavy with clouds.
The morning weather report had indicated that there would be
periods of snow over the next several days but nothing serious and
very little additional accumulation. That sounded just about perfect
to me. A little snow added to the atmosphere, which I think
everyone enjoyed, but if we got too much snow, it would hinder the
outdoor events we’d planned for the weekend.
 I’d been working on my manuscript for most of the morning
before deciding to clean up a bit and then take care of my laundry.
Now that my room was straightened and clothes folded and put
away, I decided to take a break from work and chores and see how
Georgia was doing. I didn’t have the benefit of being able to smell
the cookies baking today, so I pretty much just had to guess when
they’d be ready to taste test.
Jeremy had draped little white lights in the trees that lined the
path that led from the cottage to the inn. During the summer, the
trees provided for a shady stroll between the properties, but during
the winter, when the path was made to look like a fairy trail, it was
simply magical. I’d made a good choice when I’d decided to offer
Jeremy a job. Not only was he as close to me as a brother could be,
but he always seemed to know exactly what to do to add that final
accent that would take a wonderful display and make it truly
enchanting.
I stomped the snow off my feet and entered the inn through the
back door, which led directly into the kitchen. Once inside, I slipped
off my boots and left them on the drying rack. Then I slipped off my
hat and gloves and shoved them into the pockets of my jacket.
“Abby, this is Mylie.” Georgia introduced me to the woman whose
dark ringlets hung to the middle of her back as I hung my jacket on
one of the pegs provided for just such a purpose.
“I’m so happy to meet you.” I smiled at the petite woman sitting
on the stool at the counter.
“I’m so happy to meet you as well. Georgia has told me so much
about everyone who lives at the inn.”
I glanced at Georgia, who was scooping cookies from a cookie
sheet onto a cooling rack.
“I want to say right up front that I love, love, love this inn.” Mylie
continued as she looked around the room. “It’s just so quaint and
cozy, yet with all the upgrades you’ve done to the place, it also feels
modern and fresh.”
 “Thank you so much. We’ve worked hard to create the perfect
blend of old fashion and modern, and I can honestly say that we
love it as well.” I really adored the way the woman seemed to
brighten the room. “I understand you’re here in Holiday Bay on a
unique mission.” I sat down on a stool next to Mylie. The woman
was adorable. I didn’t think she would have any problem attracting
suitors and wondered why she felt she needed to try so hard. With
her exceptional looks and bubbly personality, I would think she
would have found her perfect guy long ago.
“I am here on a mission.” Her bright blue eyes shone with
enthusiasm. “I know my undertaking is going to seem silly to some,
but I don’t care. My psychic told me that if I wanted to meet my one
true love, I should spend Christmas in Holiday Bay. At first, I was
skeptical, but then, after giving the idea a lot of thought, I realized I
had nothing to lose, so I called and spoke to Georgia, and she
informed me that she had a cancellation and could accommodate my
needs. I hesitated for a moment when faced with the cost of the
trip. I tend to be a practical sort most of the time, and it seemed
that Christmas in Holiday Bay would be a bit of an extravagance. But
in the end, I decided to put all my eggs in one basket and go for it.”
“So, your plan is to find a man?” I asked.
“A husband. And not just any husband, the perfect husband.”
“And if you don’t meet the man of your dreams?”
She shrugged. “Even if I don’t meet my one true love, I will have
spent two weeks in this gorgeous inn.”
I couldn’t help but grin. “Sounds like a solid approach to the
whole thing.”
“While historically, I’ve been a practical sort who has never really
taken a lot of chances, my life has changed recently, and I really
want to learn to be a risk-taker,” she admitted. “I’ve realized lately
that life is short. I read a book that said that if there is something
you want, you need to take control and make the dream happen.”
I didn’t disagree, but I’d had enough life experiences to know
that reaching out and taking control wasn’t always as easy as self-
help books made it sound. “So, you don’t have family that will be
missing you?” I wondered.
She shook her head. “My parents were killed in a plane crash
when I was sixteen. I was an only child, so I didn’t have siblings to
lean on, but I did have a grandmother who dropped everything to be
there for me. She got sick when I was still in college, so I dropped
out to care for her. Caring for her has been a full-time job for almost
ten years. In fact, in many ways taking care of Grandma became my
whole life, so when she passed, I had to figure out what to do with
myself. After a lot of soul searching, I realized that what I really
wanted was to be a mother. I realize there are ways to go about
having a child without having a man in your life, but I’d really love to
build a family with a special individual with whom I share a passion.
I’ve dated some, and I even joined a few of those dating sites on
the internet, but I quickly decided that blind dates and internet
dating weren’t for me.”
“I would agree with that,” I said. “I’ve never been on a blind
date, nor have I ever joined a dating site, but the whole idea of
trying to engage in meaningful conversation with a total stranger is
exhausting.”
“Exactly.” Mylie nodded. “I found myself at a crossroads, so I
looked up an old friend who had helped me sort out my emotions in
the past. She’s the one who introduced me to the psychic. At first, I
was somewhat skeptical, but then I figured what the heck, and here
I am.”
“Well, Georgia and I are pulling for you,” I said. “If you need
anything from us, you just let us know.”
“I will. And thanks. I can use all the support I can get.”
“So, do you have a certain type of guy in mind?” Georgia asked
as she took the last cookie sheet from the oven.
Her gaze narrowed. “I’ve actually given this some thought. While
my personal goal is to loosen up a bit and be more of a risk-taker,
when it comes to a husband and a father for my children, I am
looking for someone who is serious and settled. I really want a large
family, and I feel like time is running out for me to have that, so I
don’t want to waste time dating some guy who just wants to have
fun and has no plans to settle down. My grandmother left me a
significant inheritance, so even if I decide to stay home and raise my
children rather than entering the workforce, I don’t need to find a
man who makes a lot of money. Having said that, I’m not looking to
support a slacker either, so I’m hoping to find someone with a
commitment to family, but who also has a steady job and plans for
the future.”
I was about to comment, but she took a breath and then
continued, so I held my tongue and let her finish her thought.
“It is important to me that I find someone who has a good sense
of humor, and the man I give my heart to absolutely must love dogs.
I have three, and they are my family. Any guy who isn’t as crazy
about my four-legged children as I am, really can’t have a place in
my life.” Mylie paused. “I appreciate men who are well-groomed and
physically fit, but I don’t care a lot about looks. I’m really more
interested in what is on the inside. He must be kind. He must want
at least three children, although I would be open to more. And he
must want to start a family right away.”
“Wow,” I said, after she sat back on her stool, seemingly
indicating that she was done. “It sounds like you have someone
pretty specific in mind.”
Her long hair fell across her face as she bobbed her head. “I
guess in a way I do. One of the things I’ve learned through my
reading is that you have to know what you want and you have to be
willing to go after it. If sacrifice and compromise become a
necessity, you deal with that as it comes, but it really is a waste of
time and resources to mess around doing anything that doesn’t take
you to where you ultimately want to be.”
I thought about all those romance novels that I had read and
written and wondered if being so determined and focused might
actually prevent Mylie from finding her one true love. More often
than not, in fiction at least, it was the unexpected stranger who was
all wrong for the heroine, who ended up winning her heart. I
actually considered pointing this out to Mylie but decided to hold my
tongue. This was her experiment and her life. I had enough issues of
my own to figure out without being pulled into someone else’s story.
I glanced at Georgia, who had started a pot of coffee, I assumed
she planned to serve with her taste test.
“What were you studying when you were pulled out of college to
help your grandmother?” I asked. In my mind, given her situation, if
she didn’t find a man right away, returning to college might be an
option, at least for the time being. Coming to Holiday Bay on the
recommendation of a psychic was great fun, but I really wasn’t the
type to believe in love at first sight, and I sort of doubted she’d find
the man she’d described after only two weeks in the area.
“Art history.”
I raised a brow. “Really. That seems…”
“Like a waste of time?” She laughed. “I totally agree, and if I am
perfectly honest, I really hadn’t wanted to go to college, but I knew
my parents had wanted that for me, and even though they were
dead, I didn’t want to let them down, so I applied. My grades were
good enough to get into a lot of really good schools, but I didn’t
want to waste money on a private university, so I went to a state
college and majored in something I thought would be easy. I had
just entered my junior year when I quit, so I may have gotten my
act together and focused on something specific if I’d been given a
chance to do so. I guess we’ll never know what would have
happened if Grandma hadn’t gotten sick, but at this point in my life,
I don’t think college is for me.”
“Well, I wish you luck with your endeavor.”
“Thank you. Georgia has been so supportive of my quest. In fact,
she’s been telling me what she has learned about each of the three
single men who are due to check-in.”
“And you think one of these men might be the one true love the
psychic sent you to find?” I asked.
 “I really don’t know. I suppose I’ll just meet each of them and
see what happens. Riley Camden, the travel blogger who is checking
in tomorrow, sounds like an interesting man, but I don’t think he’ll
be the one for me. I Googled him after Georgia told me his name
and read up on him a bit. It looks like he travels a lot, and I want to
be settled. Still, he does appear to live a fascinating life, so it will be
fun to get to know him.”
“And the other two men?”
Mylie rolled her lips as she considered the question. “Family is
important to me, and I really like the fact that Andrew Madison is
here to spend Christmas with his aunt. I guess if I had to choose
right now, without having actually met any of the men, he would be
the front-runner. Mark Westgate is certainly good looking, and he
seems to be very successful, but like Riley, he appears to travel a lot,
and seems to be married to his work.” Mylie chuckled. “Of course,
there is no way I can know if I will actually hit it off with any of
these men, and of course, there is no guarantee that the men will
like me.”
“It would be frustrating to find your perfect guy, only to find that
he wasn’t interested,” Georgia admitted.
“Exactly,” Mylie agreed. “I figure I’ll just keep an open mind and
take things as they come. However this works out, I am determined
that this Christmas will be the best one I’ve had in a very long time.”
Nikki wandered in as Mylie completed her story. She’d mentioned
when she’d been by last evening that she would be here today to do
whatever needed to be done in anticipation of the full house we
were expecting. Georgia introduced Nikki to Mylie, and in spite of
the age difference, they seemed to hit it off right away. Georgia had
been busy in the kitchen when Mylie arrived, so she’d showed her to
her room, but hadn’t taken the time for the full tour. Nikki agreed to
show her around.
“Mylie seems as perky and cheerful as you predicted,” I said to
Georgia after Nikki and Mylie left the room.
 “She’s had a hard life, but she seems to have such a positive
attitude. And there is an almost childlike quality about her that I
enjoy. I think we will all get along just fine.”
“I think so as well. I have to admire her determination to get
what she wants, but I almost wonder if her myopic view won’t get in
her way.”
“It’s hard to say,” Georgia answered. “She certainly does seem
committed to her cause, and I have a feeling she is going to
approach this task like a challenge to conquer. Still, I’m not sure love
and the process of falling in love is something you can manage and
control. In my experience, you don’t find love, it finds you. Having
said that, I do wish the best for her, and I am looking forward to
seeing how Mylie and her bachelors get along.”
“I know you said that all three men are single, but do you know
for a fact that they aren’t otherwise attached?” I asked.
“Actually, I don’t know if any of the three have girlfriends or
boyfriends or if they might even be engaged or living with someone.
I found a way to work marital status into the conversations, but that
was as much information as I could get without being obvious about
my interest.”
I shrugged. “I guess we’ll find out where each of the three
stands once they check-in. I will say that Mylie is absolutely
adorable. I have a feeling if these men are single and unattached,
they are going to be all over her. Not literally. At least I hope not.
But I’m sure if she is interested in a sleigh ride, she will have her
choice of companions.”
“Speaking of sleigh rides, I’ve confirmed our reservations on both
Saturday and Sunday afternoon for any of our guests who might
want to take a ride. I also have all the materials for the ornaments
we plan to make. If there is interest and the weather permits, I am
planning a caroling party and bonfire on the bluff. I’m going to post
a schedule on the front desk.”
“Sounds perfect. You might want to post a menu, as well. I know
you have some special meals planned for the next two weeks, and
knowing in advance what you plan to serve may make the difference
in whether our guests go out or stay in.”
“I do have special meals planned, although I want to attend the
pageant on Saturday, so I am serving a lighter meal that evening.
History has shown that guests often go out on Saturdays anyway, so
I guess I should make something with a flexible number of servings.
By the way, I meant to ask if Colt and the kids got off okay.”
I nodded. “They were all so excited. I found myself wishing I was
going along, but it’s important for me to be here.”
“I could have handled things,” Georgia reminded me.
“I know. It’s just that…”
“You aren’t sure you’re ready to move your relationship with Colt
into the family vacation phase.”
“Exactly. We really aren’t even in the intimate dinner phase at
this point.”
Georgia laughed. “You don’t need to convince me. I get it. I’ve
been moving glacially slow with Tanner. I have enjoyed the fact that
we’ve moved into a more intimate phase in our relationship, but I
know he’d like to get married someday, and I am not ready for that.”
“I’m sure he is willing to wait.”
Georgia shrugged. “Maybe, but I wonder if I’m not cheating him
out of the future he could and maybe should have while he is
waiting around for me.”
I frowned. “What do you mean by that?”
She blew out a breath. “I wonder about children. Does he want
them? Do I? If he does and I don’t, should I set him free now before
either of us gets in too deep?”
“Has he brought up children?” I asked.
“No.”
“So, you don’t actually know where he stands on the issue?”
She folded her arms across her chest. “No, I guess I don’t.”
 “Don’t you think you should talk to him and see what he is
thinking before you engage in thoughts of setting him free? I mean,
you are just getting started. He might be asking himself all these
same questions.”
Georgia lifted a corner of her mouth. “You’re right. I’m not only
getting ahead of myself, but I’m creating a problem where one
doesn’t currently exist. I’ve noticed that ever since my husband blew
up my life, I tend to do that at times. It’s almost like every time I get
happy, I find myself waiting for the other shoe to drop, so I have this
tendency to want to head it off.”
“I get it. I do. But Tanner is a great guy. I really do think it would
be best to take a step back and just let things develop naturally. If
the opportunity to have the talk comes up, then go for it, but in the
meantime, enjoy having this wonderful man in your life.”
She smiled. “I will. And thanks.”
“So, what sort of cookie do we have today?” I asked in an
attempt to segue on to a lighter topic.
“White chocolate chip with cranberries and almonds.”
“They look and smell delicious.”
“I think they turned out well. The coffee is just about ready. You
can be the first to taste them.”
Nikki and Mylie had just returned to the kitchen as Georgia
transferred the cookies onto a plate, so she invited them to stay and
try them as well.
“You’ll never guess what Mylie found,” Nikki said, grinning from
ear to ear, as she took a cookie and scooted onto a chair.
“What did Mylie find?” I asked as I took four Christmas mugs
down from the rack.
“A note in the nutcracker,” Nikki answered.
I paused and looked at Mylie. “A note?”
She held up a piece of paper. “When we stopped off in the parlor,
and Nikki showed me the nutcracker your friend had delivered, I
noticed that the strap that hangs down from the hat and covers the
mouth looked ajar. I decided to straighten it. I was trying to get the
strap to hang straight and was having a hard time, which caused me
to notice that the mouth beneath the strap looked odd.”
“Odd how?” I asked.
She narrowed her gaze. “I’m not sure. I just looked at the
nutcracker, and I had an awareness that the mouth seemed off. Nikki
found the lever to open it, and I found this stuffed inside.”
I poured the coffee into the mugs and then transferred them to
the kitchen table. “Why would anyone put a note in the mouth of a
nutcracker?” I asked.
“Actually, I have heard about this,” Nikki responded. “My friend,
Jeri, told me a story that was told to her by her grandmother
involving a nutcracker. It seems there used to be a custom in the
area where she grew up, where the kids would write a letter to
Santa which would then be left in the mouth of the nutcracker where
elves would retrieve it and deliver it directly to the North Pole.”
“I’ve never heard of that, but it is a delightful story,” I said.
“What does the note say?”
“As Nikki indicated, it’s a letter to Santa,” Mylie informed me. “It’s
rather charming and sad all at the same time.”
I held out my hand, and Mylie handed me the note. I began to
read aloud.
Dear Santa, I don’t need toys or clothes for Christmas this year. I
just want to do fun stuff with my parents. I want to go on a sleigh
ride, build a snowman, decorate the tree, drink hot cocoa, and put
our socks out for you to fill. I want to go into town and look at the
windows. I want to build a fire and roast marshmallows. I want to
bake cookies, go ice skating, and, most of all, I want Mom and Dad
to get along. Merry Christmas, Pamela
I looked up. “Wow.”
“I wonder what happened,” Georgia said.
“What do you mean?” I replied.
 “Given the fact that the note was left in the nutcracker and the
elves never picked it up and took it to the North Pole, I have to
assume that Santa didn’t get the letter and Pamela didn’t get her
wish.”
Georgia had a point. If Santa, or in this case, Pamela’s parents,
would have received the note, then chances were it would not have
been in the nutcracker.
“I wonder when the note was written,” Nikki said.
I looked at the piece of paper in my hand. “I don’t know. There
isn’t a date. The paper is plain and the note written in pencil. I
suppose it’s possible that it could have been penned and left in the
nutcracker at any point in the statue’s history, which I’ve been told,
spans more than fifty years.”
“Do you think the woman who sold the nutcracker to Lacy might
know who owned it before it ended up in her shop?” Georgia asked.
“I don’t think so. If she did know the history of the piece, she
didn’t fill Lacy and me in when we were at the store looking at it,” I
answered.
“Maybe Pamela got her Christmas wish in spite of the fact that
the note was never delivered,” Mylie said. “I mean, it is possible that
even though the note was never received by the person or persons it
was meant for, she still might have gone on her sleigh ride and built
her snowman. And it is still possible that her parents set aside their
differences in order to provide a wonderful holiday for their
daughter.”
“I hope so,” I said even though I really doubted it was true. I’m
not sure why, maybe it was the fact that my own life had been
somewhat of a tragedy over the past couple of years, but for some
reason, I felt a real certainty that as much as we all might wish it so,
Pamela hadn’t gotten her wish.
“Maybe we can research the nutcracker,” Georgia said. “If we dig
around a bit, we might be able to figure out who Pamela was and
what became of her.”
 “I’m game,” I said. “But I have to be honest, finding Pamela
when all we have is a first name sounds like a longshot.”
Georgia nodded. “Maybe. But like Mylie, with her search for the
perfect husband, I figure that we really have nothing to lose by
doing a little research and seeing what we can come up with.”
I looked at the note in my hand. “I guess that’s true. I’ll make
some calls and see what I can find out.”
“Do you mind if I make a copy of the items on Pamela’s list?”
Mylie asked.
“Not at all.” I handed her the note.
“I know we have no way of knowing if Pamela’s wish was ever
answered or what became of the child who penned the note, but I
think it might be fun to do everything Pamela hoped to do in honor
of her memory, whoever she turns out to be,” Mylie suggested.
“That does sound fun,” Nikki smiled. “I’ll help you. We can each
make a list, and then every time we do one of the items on it, we
can check it off. In fact, we can post the list on the bulletin board in
the lobby. That way, any of the other guests who want to join in can
make their own list and do as many items as they feel motivated to
do.”
“That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Mylie said with a grin. “I
can’t wait to get started.”
“If you want to start off easy, you can switch out your coffee for
hot cocoa, and the little tree in the entry still needs to be decorated,”
Georgia said.
Nikki and Mylie both agreed that hot cocoa and tree decorating
were perfect items to start with, so Nikki made the hot cocoa while
Mylie followed Georgia into the hall closet where she’d left a box of
Christmas ornaments and lights.
“Is something wrong?” Nikki asked after Mylie and Georgia had
left the room.
“I’m not sure. I do think that the list Mylie found is a fun one,
and I can see how our guests might enjoy trying to duplicate the
events Pamela hoped to share with her parents, but I have a bad
feeling about things.”
“Do you think something bad happened to the girl who wrote the
note?” She asked.
I forced a smile and shook my head. “I’m sure Pamela grew up
to have a wonderful life. I guess that this time of the year brings out
the doomsday emotions I try to hold at bay.”
“That’s perfectly understandable.” Nikki gave me a hug.
I nodded. “It is, and I’m fine. I think I’ll help with the tree.”
By the time the lights were strung on the tree, Annabelle had
come home and joined in on the fun. Since Mylie was our only guest
tonight, we decided to do a simple, yet creative meal, which
included three types of fondue and two different salads. The entree
was followed by roasting marshmallows over a fire in the pit on the
back deck. At this point, Mylie, Nikki, and Annabelle all had lists
started on the bulletin board, but I had the feeling that by the time
this was over, there would be others who would decide to join in on
the fun.
 Chapter 3

Only six days until Christmas. After all the work Georgia, Jeremy,
and I had gone to in our effort turn the inn into something
resembling a Christmas card, it seemed unreal that it would all be
over in just six more days. Well technically, I supposed we’d leave
the decorations up until after New Year’s, but still, now that the days
until the big event had begun to count down in a serious way, I felt
an overwhelming urge to take in each and every moment, which is
probably why I decided to set my thriller aside until after the
holidays in spite of my deadline. I’d never missed a deadline in my
life and really didn’t want to start now, but with the snow falling
outside my window and the warm and cozy feeling of the festively
decorated cottage, my mind seemed to rebel against spending any
more time in the dark place in my mind where the thriller seemed to
live.
After a bit of soul searching, I decided to make a call to my agent
and my editor wishing them Merry Christmas and maybe hinting to
them that my manuscript might be a few days late. I also wanted to
assure them that even if it was late, I was still enthusiastic about the
direction the project seemed to be taking, even though I had to
admit if only to myself, that was no longer the case. I supposed that
hitting a wall mid-book was not unheard of, and with some time off
and a new perspective, I was sure I’d find a way to get it done as I’d
promised I would.
The conversation would most likely have gone fine since both my
agent and my editor were in exceptionally good moods, but my
agent mentioned that she had been approached about a possible
movie deal for the book I had released in November and wouldn’t it
be wonderful if they would allow me to write the screenplay.
Wonderful? I rolled the word around in my mind as my agent
rambled on. I’d written my share of bestselling novels, but never a
screenplay. I supposed the skills could be transferred to a certain
degree, but the real question in my mind was whether or not I
wanted to disrupt my life to the level needed to make something like
that happen.
I lived a full and busy life here in Holiday Bay. It suited me, and
part of what suited me about the arrangement was that my life
allowed for variety. I’d only been signing on to do one book at a
time, which allowed me to continue with my career while exploring
other options. But a screenplay? The whole thing sounded
overwhelming. Still, I wasn’t ready to say no at this point and was
working my way up to an “I’ll think about it” when my agent got
another call and had to hang up with the promise of continuing our
conversation after the holidays.
As soon as I hung up, my phone rang with an incoming call.
“Hey, Lacy. What’s up?” I answered.
“I have news about the nutcracker.”
Okay, that got my attention. “What sort of news?”
“I called the antique dealer I purchased it from to see if she
could fill in any of the blanks about its history. She told me she
purchased the nutcracker at an estate sale this past summer. She
didn’t know much more about the nutcracker than that, but she did
have a contact number for the woman who ran the sale. I called and
spoke to her, and found out that the man who owned the estate
before his death, was a collector of sorts, who had gathered a fairly
significant collection of art of various types, as well as antique
furniture and various antique bric-a-bracs.”
I was tempted to hurry Lacy along to the point of the story but
decided to simply listen and bide my time. Lacy really loved old
things in a way that caused her to be attached to them in a way that
I didn’t suppose I ever would. I was certain that the story of the
nutcracker was one she would embrace to its fullest.
 “Anyway, the woman who ran the estate sale didn’t know a
whole lot about the items she sold other than their appraised
values,” Lacy continued. “But she was able to give me contact
information for the man’s great-niece, a woman named Elizabeth
Warrington. I left her a message. I’m hoping she’ll call me back.”
“I hope so as well. It would be fun to get the story behind the
note we found.”
“I agree. I’ll call you when I hear from Ms. Warrington. Right
now, I have to run. Maddie has a doctor’s appointment, and then I
have to pick the twins up from preschool.”
I had to hand it to Lacy, she had more energy than anyone I had
ever met. Not only did she have six children, but she owned her own
furniture restoration business and was an active volunteer in the
community as well. After she signed off, I decided to head over to
the inn, where I found Georgia in the kitchen.
“Seems like you spend most of your waking hours in the kitchen
these days,” I said as I grabbed a cookie from a platter.
“I know. I keep telling myself that I just need to use one of the
recipes I’ve already tried for the competition, but then I get another
idea and find myself making another batch.”
“The taping of the competition is Monday. I guess you’ll have to
commit by Sunday at the latest so you can make sure you have all
the ingredients you need.”
“I know, and I will. I think I’m narrowing it down. These
chocolate and cherry thumbprints I made aren’t nearly as good as
they sounded in my head. I’m sure I can find folks willing to eat
them, but I don’t think I’ll add them to the list of potential recipes to
use for the show.”
I took a second bite. “I think they are wonderful, but I do agree
that they aren’t as good as some of the others you’ve tried. I can
help you clean up if you want.”
“Actually, I have a batch of sugar cookie dough mixed up. Christy
and Haley are coming today, and I thought we could have a cookie
Another random document with
no related content on Scribd:
graveyard at midnight, a conjure bag warranted to keep off bad spirits, or
his pick from a variety of other "charms" that the chooser firmly believes
will carry him safely through to the time when St. John’s Day shall have
again rolled around.

Peace at Last in "Bloody Breathitt."

"Dock" Smith, one of the alleged assassins of Ed Callahan, recently
pleaded guilty before the court in Winchester, Ky., and was sentenced to a
life term in the penitentiary, and it is believed that the passing of sentence
on Smith will be the finis to the long-continued feudal warfare which
caused the press of the nation to confer the title of "Bloody Breathitt" on the
county which produced Jim Hargis and Ed Callahan.
With the deaths of Hargis and Callahan, and the conviction of several of
those alleged to have been responsible for the plot which ended Callahan’s
life, the old feudal spirit was practically wiped out in Jackson and Breathitt
Counties, and that section is to-day regarded as having the brightest
prospects of any section of the State.
Wealthy Eastern syndicates have invaded Breathitt and adjoining
counties and invested heavily in the coal and timber lands of the section,
while at the time James B. Marcum was assassinated and for several years
subsequent to that tragedy, financial concerns of New York, Philadelphia,
and other Eastern cities declined to invest any capital in this troubled
district.
Twelve years ago, in Breathitt County, was fired a shot that meant little
at the time to those responsible for it, but which in reality meant more for
the future of eastern Kentucky than any event of the past half century, for it
sounded the death knell of the famous and deadly Hargis-Cockrill feud. It
was the shot that killed James B. Marcum as he stood in the front door of
the bullet-riddled courthouse at Jackson, and while Marcum was only one
of the many who opposed the leaders of the old Hargis-Callahan factions
and had gone the same route, by the assassin’s bullet, his death aroused the
people of the State to action, and from that moment the law camped on the
trail of those believed to be guilty of procuring Marcum’s death.
Marcum walked into the trap laid for him while those later charged with
having laid it were interested spectators, they occupying easy-chairs in the
doorway of the Hargis store just across the street. Among those who
witnessed the assassination were Jim Hargis and Ed Callahan, county judge
and high sheriff, respectively, of Breathitt County; while the other actors in
the drama were Curtis Jett, nephew of Hargis, and Tom White, henchman of
the Hargis-Callahan clan. These two, according to a subsequent confession
by Jett, carried out a plot arranged by Hargis and Callahan to kill Marcum,
and as the latter started to enter the door of the courthouse, a shot rang out
and he fell mortally wounded.
The assassination of Marcum, following so closely upon the deaths of
others in a similar manner, including Jim Cockrill, eldest of the Cockrill
brothers, and Doctor B. D. Cox, legal guardian of the infant Cockrill heirs,
created a clamor for justice in Breathitt County, heretofore unknown in this
section. So strong was the pressure brought to bear that before nightfall the
governor of the State had ordered a company of militia to Jackson, and
martial law was declared the following morning.
This resulted in the calling of a special grand jury, and two weeks later
indictments were returned against Jett and White, charging them with the
murder of Marcum. They were later convicted and sentenced to a life term
in the penitentiary, and both are now paying the penalty behind the prison
walls at Frankfort. The case was tried in Cynthiana, having been sent to
Harrison County on a change of venue from Breathitt County. Subsequently
both men were tried and found guilty of the assassination of Jim Cockrill
and given the same sentence as in the Marcum murder.
Through the confession later obtained by the Commonwealth from Mose
Feltner and others of the alleged Hargis-Callahan faction, indictments were
returned against Jim and Alex Hargis, Ed Callahan, and B. Fult French,
charging them with conspiracy to bring about the death of Marcum,
Cockrill, and Doctor Cox.
For seven years the four alleged conspirators faced legal death in
criminal proceedings as a result of the indictments against them, and while
they were subsequently acquitted by juries in Lexington, Beattyville, and
Sandy Hook, to which places the cases were sent on a change of venue from
Breathitt County, Alex Hargis is the only one of the quartet now living.
Jim Hargis was slain by his own son, Beach Hargis, in the Hargis store
in Jackson, and Callahan was slain in his store at Crockettsville, twenty
miles from Jackson, three years ago.
 B. Fult French was the last one of the alleged conspirators to die, and
while he was always considered by many as the real leader of the plots
which resulted in many of the anti-Hargis faction passing to the great
beyond, he died a peaceful death, last winter, at his home in Winchester. It
was to this place that French removed from Hazard after the extermination
of the French-Eversole feud in Perry County.
The first of the many legal battles resulting from the death of James B.
Marcum was waged here in Winchester the year following his death, his
widow, Arbellah Marcum, choosing this city in which to file her claims for
one hundred thousand dollars damages because French, one of the alleged
conspirators, was a resident of this city. It was an easy matter to get services
on the other three alleged conspirators in Clark county, as they had to pass
through Winchester three or four times a week going to and from Lexington
and Jackson.
The trial lasted five weeks and was, perhaps, the most sensational civil
proceeding ever fought in Kentucky. Mrs. Marcum was awarded a
judgment against Jim Hargis and Ed Callahan for eight thousand dollars
damages, but the judgment was the smallest part of the expense to the
defendants, as it cost them thousands of dollars to bring hundreds of
witnesses from various parts of the mountains and keep them in Winchester
for weeks.
Even with the conclusion of the Marcum suit the legal troubles of the
Hargises, Callahan, and French had just begun, and for a period of seven
years they were before the courts, either to defend themselves or some of
their alleged henchmen, and while neither of the four alleged leaders were
ever convicted, their large fortunes and once powerful influence had waned
when their legal battles were over.
At the time Jim Hargis was first accused of procuring assassins to kill
Marcum, he was the Tenth District Committeeman of the State General
Committee of his party, and continued to hold that office until public
sentiment forced him out, but when he was killed by his own son, he had
lost the political prestige of the leaders who for years stood by him, and he
died virtually an obscure resident of Jackson, rarely heard of outside the
confines of Breathitt County.
Following the death of Hargis, it was generally believed the old feud had
died with its leader, but to those who were opposed to the Hargis faction,
Callahan loomed up as the leader of the faction, and every few weeks the
old feudal spirit would begin to boil, and this continued until Callahan
became the victim of an assassin.

Parting Shot Opens Gusher.

An oil well which it is believed will be in the five-thousand-barrel class
and will cause the opening of an extension of the famous Cushing field,
near Muskogee, Okla., was started to flowing by a twenty-seven quart shot
of nitroglycerin made as a parting slap by the owners, who thought the well
was worthless.
This well was sunk in the sand in the edge of the Oilton oil pool. It
showed no signs of being productive, and there were no productive wells
around it. The owners were about to abandon it, but decided to try one more
shot of nitroglycerin. Then the oil spouted all over the lease.

Aged Ship, Success, is Safe in Oakland.

On April 14, 1912, an old, storm-beaten, odd-looking, three-masted
sailing ship—the oldest vessel afloat—set out from Lancaster, England, and
dropping away from Glasson dock, veteran of all piers, seized the wind in
her teeth and sped away on a voyage across the western ocean. At different
times in her career the old barkentine Success, for such is her name, had
been a full-rigged merchantman, a convict transport ship, and a despised
prison hulk, but just what she is to-day can be ascertained by all who care to
go down to the harbor at Oakland, Cal., and devote an hour or so to an
inspection of the age-old craft which has just arrived here.
High of stern—almost a galleon in lines—bluffy, "apple-bowed," with an
out-of-date figurehead sprawling beneath a skyward bowsprit, she sailed,
alone of her kind, an anachronism, a curiosity, a craft as out of place among
modern hulls, her foremast hands declared, "as an alligator ashore."
And that was why she sailed uninsured, for Lloyd’s—that gamest of all
maritime-insurance companies, in whose rooms a gamble will be taken
even upon a ship whose skipper "cracks on sail into the Day of
Judgment"—had refused her as a risk.
 She had been denied British clearance, too, and her only papers were a
board-of-health certificate, countersigned by the American consul in her
port of departure.
Before her company was filled, a score of captains had thrown up their
sea-calloused hands in holy horror when offered the master’s billet aboard
her, and two crews had deserted before her forefoot could bruise the ocean
swells. And even now the old craft is short-manned.
The date first set for the sailing of the Success from the port on the River
Lune saw the Titanic clear Southampton upon her memorable and tragic
maiden voyage. The old barkentine, however, was delayed by an inability to
fill her crew.
"If I hadn’t known the sort of stuff that the old girl was built of, I’d have
been as skeptical of her chances as the rest," Captain D. H. Smith, her
owner, admits. "As vessels go nowadays, she isn’t any giant. She is only
one hundred and thirty-five feet over all, with a beam of twenty-nine feet,
and registered at five hundred and eighty-nine tons. And then consider her
age and history.
"She was built of teak throughout—what they used to call ‘black ship’—
and that’s why I have such faith in her, even though she was battered up
some in her early youth by the Indian Ocean pirates, and after she fell from
caste was moored for so many years as a prison hulk.
"But she made the thousands of miles between Australia and England
under her own sail, and then I determined to bring her to the United States."
The Success, all sail set to catch the last of the easterly winds she had
counted on to carry her across the north Atlantic in forty-six days, left
Lancaster with fair weather. She was provisioned for fifty days and carried
eighteen thousand gallons of water.
Cordage humming, she stood bravely on the out course, and when she
was ten hours beyond sight of land, her wireless operator, Gallagher, sat at a
little petrol outfit which had been installed aboard her, sending the last
good-bys of the little ship’s company of nineteen over the evening sea.
Crook Haven, the great Irish station, was taking his messages, the
Success, with her call of "I. D. B.," having been given right of way over all
other craft. Time and time again other ships tried to cut in, but Crook Haven
"turned them out" until Gallagher finished.
 Then Gallagher, with his earpieces still on, heard the message which he
had shut out come spluttering out of the night. It had been relayed from the
Carpathia. She was picking up the Titanic survivors.
Upon the old barkentine the news of the disaster fell like a thunderclap,
and the fear of death took each of them by the throat.
"What chance have we," they asked, "with nothing but a century-old
bottom between us and losin’ the numbers of our mess?"
And it was not cowardice, either. There was not a man for’ard on the
Success but who would cheerfully take every chance that comes in a sailor’s
twenty-four-hour day.
There came a time when the Success was sixty days from port and
apparently far out of her course. Consequently every time their puny
wireless would sputter into the night in a vain attempt to give their location
to the ships which were looking for her, the crew, spirit broken and
diseased, would jump to the conclusion that their captain was sending the
"S. O. S." call for aid, and a strong hand was needed to drive them to the
back-breaking task when both watches were required on deck constantly to
tack her, and to wear her when the proximity of a great iceberg would not
permit them to tack.
When they were twelve days out, four hundred miles due east of Boston,
trouble broke out among the crew. Five of the Liverpool bullies grew unruly
and demanded that the Success be headed for Halifax, which lay a bit over
four hundred miles west and about one hundred and fifty miles north of
their then position. That same night, while asleep in their bunks, they were
made prisoners and were kept locked up until Boston was reached.
The famous old hulk finally dropped anchor off of East Boston flats,
thus closing one of the most remarkable voyages in recent years. The five
malcontents, and one other who had made trouble for the captain, were sent
back to their native countries for punishment. From Boston she went to
New York, Baltimore, Washington, and Philadelphia prior to her sailing for
San Francisco.
She will remain in Oakland for a brief period only while she is being
fitted out for her voyage to British Columbia, whence she will sail direct to
Melbourne, her home port. She will never return from the latter port, as she
will then have completed a tour of the world.
 Oklahoma Will Honor First White Settlers.
Citizens of Salina, Okla., are making an effort to raise funds with which
to erect a monument in Salina marking the site of the first white settlement
in what is now Oklahoma.
An organization known as the Choteau Monument Association has been
formed in Salina, and its object is to assemble funds or to coöperate with
others in raising funds with which to erect the monument.
The Daughters of the American Revolution and the Oklahoma Historical
Association may be appealed to for financial aid, and the suggestion has
been made that St. Louis, Mo., where the Choteau family has lived since the
founding of that city, be asked to aid in marking the spot.
Professor Joseph B. Thoburn, of the University of Oklahoma, State
ethnologist, gives the following account of the establishment of the trading
post at Salina:
"It is not generally known in Oklahoma that Salina is the site of the first
white settlement in Oklahoma—at least of the first of which anything is
known. It was nearly one hundred and twenty years ago, or, to be exact, in
1796, that a trading post was established here by the Choteaus of St. Louis.
The Choteau brothers were mere lads when they were brought to St. Louis
at the time of the first settlement in 1764. They had grown up in the Indian
trade, and for many years they had a practical monopoly of that of the
Osage tribe, the members of which were several times as numerous as they
are now.
"In 1795 Manuel Lisa, a creole Spaniard, secured from the Spanish
governor general of the province of Louisiana, at New Orleans, an
exclusive concession or monopoly of trading with the Indians of the valley
of the Missouri and those of all of its tributaries.
"As the Osage Indians spent most of their time in the valley of the Osage
River, and as the Osage never was a tributary of the Missouri, it followed
that the Choteaus would lose the lucrative business which they had built up
among the Osages. Moreover, there was nothing to prevent the Choteaus
from trading with the Osages at any place outside of the watershed of the
Missouri.
"Accordingly, the members of the enterprising firm busied themselves in
inducing a large number of Osages to move over and settle in the valleys of
the Neosho—or Grand—and Verdigris Rivers, in southern Kansas and
northern Oklahoma. The establishment of the trading post in the valley of
the Grand River, in Mayes County, on the present site of the town of Salina,
followed shortly afterward."

The Nick Carter Stories

ISSUED EVERY SATURDAY BEAUTIFUL COLORED COVERS
When it comes to detective stories worth while, the Nick Carter Stories
contain the only ones that should be considered. They are not overdrawn
tales of bloodshed. They rather show the working of one of the finest minds
ever conceived by a writer. The name of Nick Carter is familiar all over the
world, for the stories of his adventures may be read in twenty languages. No
other stories have withstood the severe test of time so well as those
contained in the Nick Carter Stories. It proves conclusively that they are
the best. We give herewith a list of some of the back numbers in print. You
can have your news dealer order them, or they will be sent direct by the
publishers to any address upon receipt of the price in money or postage
stamps.
714—The Taxicab Riddle.
717—The Maser Rogue’s Alibi.
719—The Dead Letter.
720—The Allerton Millions.
728—The Mummy’s Head.
729—The Statue Clue.
730—The Torn Card.
731—Under Desperation’s Spur.
732—The Connecting Link.
733—The Abduction Syndicate.
736—The Toils of a Siren.
738—A Plot Within a Plot.
739—The Dead Accomplice.
741—The Green Scarab.
746—The Secret Entrance.
747—The Cavern Mystery.
748—The Disappearing Fortune.
749—A Voice from the Past.
752—The Spider’s Web.
753—The Man With a Crutch.
754—The Rajah’s Regalia.
755—Saved from Death.
756—The Man Inside.
757—Out for Vengeance.
758—The Poisons of Exili.
759—The Antique Vial.
760—The House of Slumber.
761—A Double Identity.
762—“The Mocker’s" Stratagem.
763—The Man that Came Back.
764—The Tracks in the Snow.
765—The Babbington Case.
766—The Masters of Millions.
767—The Blue Stain.
768—The Lost Clew.
770—The Turn of a Card.
771—A Message in the Dust.
772—A Royal Flush.
774—The Great Buddha Beryl.
775—The Vanishing Heiress.
776—The Unfinished Letter.
777—A Difficult Trail.
782—A Woman’s Stratagem.
783—The Cliff Castle Affair.
784—A Prisoner of the Tomb.
785—A Resourceful Foe.
789—The Great Hotel Tragedies.
795—Zanoni, the Transfigured.
796—The Lure of Gold.
797—The Man With a Chest.
798—A Shadowed Life.
799—The Secret Agent.
800—A Plot for a Crown.
801—The Red Button.
802—Up Against It.
803—The Gold Certificate.
804—Jack Wise’s Hurry Call.
805—Nick Carter’s Ocean Chase.
807—Nick Carter’s Advertisement.
808—The Kregoff Necklace.
811—Nick Carter and the Nihilists.
812—Nick Carter and the Convict Gang.
813—Nick Carter and the Guilty Governor.
814—The Triangled Coin.
815—Ninety-nine—and One.
816—Coin Number 77.
NEW SERIES
NICK CARTER STORIES
1—The Man from Nowhere.
2—The Face at the Window.
3—A Fight for a Million.
4—Nick Carter’s Land Office.
5—Nick Carter and the Professor.
6—Nick Carter as a Mill Hand.
7—A Single Clew.
8—The Emerald Snake.
9—The Currie Outfit.
10—Nick Carter and the Kidnapped Heiress.
11—Nick Carter Strikes Oil.
12—Nick Carter’s Hunt for a Treasure.
13—A Mystery of the Highway.
14—The Silent Passenger.
15—Jack Dreen’s Secret.
16—Nick Carter’s Pipe Line Case.
17—Nick Carter and the Gold Thieves.
18—Nick Carter’s Auto Chase.
19—The Corrigan Inheritance.
20—The Keen Eye of Denton.
21—The Spider’s Parlor.
22—Nick Carter’s Quick Guess.
23—Nick Carter and the Murderess.
24—Nick Carter and the Pay Car.
25—The Stolen Antique.
26—The Crook League.
27—An English Cracksman.
28—Nick Carter’s Still Hunt.
29—Nick Carter’s Electric Shock.
30—Nick Carter and the Stolen Duchess.
31—The Purple Spot.
32—The Stolen Groom.
33—The Inverted Cross.
34—Nick Carter and Keno McCall.
35—Nick Carter’s Death Trap.
36—Nick Carter’s Siamese Puzzle.
37—The Man Outside.
38—The Death Chamber.
39—The Wind and the Wire.
40—Nick Carter’s Three Cornered Chase.
41—Dazaar, the Arch-Fiend.
42—The Queen of the Seven.
43—Crossed Wires.
44—A Crimson Clew.
45—The Third Man.
46—The Sign of the Dagger.
47—The Devil Worshipers.
48—The Cross of Daggers.
49—At Risk of Life.
50—The Deeper Game.
51—The Code Message.
52—The Last of the Seven.
53—Ten-Ichi, the Wonderful.
54—The Secret Order of Associated Crooks.
55—The Golden Hair Clew.
56—Back From the Dead.
57—Through Dark Ways.
58—When Aces Were Trumps.
59—The Gambler’s Last Hand.
60—The Murder at Linden Fells.
61—A Game for Millions.
62—Under Cover.
63—The Last Call.
64—Mercedes Danton’s Double.
65—The Millionaire’s Nemesis.
66—A Princess of the Underworld.
67—The Crook’s Blind.
68—The Fatal Hour.
69—Blood Money.
70—A Queen of Her Kind.
71—Isabel Benton’s Trump Card.
72—A Princess of Hades.
73—A Prince of Plotters.
74—The Crook’s Double.
75—For Life and Honor.
76—A Compact With Dazaar.
77—In the Shadow of Dazaar.
78—The Crime of a Money King.
79—Birds of Prey.
80—The Unknown Dead.
81—The Severed Hand.
82—The Terrible Game of Millions.
83—A Dead Man’s Power.
84—The Secrets of an Old House.
85—The Wolf Within.
86—The Yellow Coupon.
87—In the Toils.
88—The Stolen Radium.
89—A Crime in Paradise.
90—Behind Prison Bars.
91—The Blind Man’s Daughter.
92—On the Brink of Ruin.
93—Letter of Fire.
94—The $100,000 Kiss.
95—Outlaws of the Militia.
96—The Opium-Runners.
97—In Record Time.
98—The Wag-Nuk Clew.
99—The Middle Link.
100—The Crystal Maze.
101—A New Serpent in Eden.
102—The Auburn Sensation.
103—A Dying Chance.
104—The Gargoni Girdle.
105—Twice in Jeopardy.
106—The Ghost Launch.
107—Up in the Air.
108—The Girl Prisoner.
109—The Red Plague.
110—The Arson Trust.
111—The King of the Firebugs.
112—“Lifter’s" of the Lofts.
113—French Jimmie and His Forty Thieves.
114—The Death Plot.
115—The Evil Formula.
116—The Blue Button.
117—The Deadly Parallel.
118—The Vivisectionists.
119—The Stolen Brain.
120—An Uncanny Revenge.
121—The Call of Death.
122—The Suicide.
123—Half a Million Ransom.
124—The Girl Kidnapper.
125—The Pirate Yacht.
126—The Crime of the White Hand.
127—Found in the Jungle.
128—Six Men in a Loop.
129—The Jewels of Wat Chang.
130—The Crime in the Tower.
131—The Fatal Message.
132—Broken Bars.
133—Won by Magic.
134—The Secret of Shangore.
135—Straight to the Goal.
136—The Man They Hold Back.
137—The Seal of Gijon.
138—The Traitors of the Tropics.
139—The Pressing Peril.
140—The Melting-Pot.
141—The Duplicate Night.
142—The Edge of a Crime.
143—The Sultan’s Pearls.
144—The Clew of the White Collar.
Dated June 19th, 1915.
145—An Unsolved Mystery.
Dated June 26th, 1915.
146—Paying the Price.
Dated July 3d, 1915.
147—On Death’s Trail.
Dated July 10th, 1915.
The Mark of Cain.

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