Christmas at Fireside Cabins - Jenny Hale Page 0,56
voice sailed down the hallway.
“Whatcha doin’?” Rex asked.
“I was looking for Theo,” she replied. “Have you seen him?”
“Nope.”
“Will he be coming by today? When’s your next guitar lesson?”
“Not till next week.”
She nodded, thinking.
Trudy came down the hallway. “Sorry it took me a minute to get to the door. I was just fixing breakfast. Did I hear you say you were looking for Theo?”
“Yes, have you seen him?”
“I haven’t heard a word from him.”
“Well, if you do,” Lila told her, “let him know I’m looking for him.”
“I’ve been baking like crazy,” Eleanor said, placing a little dessert plate with Christmas holly painted around the edges in front of Lila. “I think it’s my brain’s way of choosing to focus on something I can control.” She sliced a piece of warm banana bread from her loaf and set the steaming treat on Lila’s plate. The kitchen table was full of cookies, fudge, cakes, and pastries, the sweet scents tickling her nose.
“You’ve definitely been busy,” Lila noted.
“I’ve baked so much that I’m going to make Christmas gift boxes for everyone in town.”
“Ah, that’s really nice of you.” She picked up a cookie and nibbled on it, savoring the milk chocolate morsels mixed into the warm buttery dough.
Eleanor handed her a fork. “So did you find Theo?”
Lila shook her head. “No. I have absolutely no idea where he is.”
“That’s worrying.”
“I know,” Lila agreed. “I don’t even have a clue when he disappeared. Where would someone hide in this town? I was working the coffee shop all day, so who knows what time he finished up with the plumbing and left the cabin? Did you happen to see when he left?”
“I’m afraid I was upstairs cleaning most of the time, and I didn’t pay attention.”
“He could be missing and no one is looking for him,” Lila fretted.
“Should we contact the authorities?” Eleanor suggested.
“I don’t know his last name or anything,” she said, racking her brain for that foggy memory of him mentioning it as she’d fallen asleep. What had he told her? She considered the names that had been on the envelope: B. Brown, P. Perry. Not a Theo in sight.
“Someone has to know it,” Eleanor said.
“Tell me who, and I’ll call them right now.”
“What about Judd Johnson? He and Theo were friendly. Would he know?”
“We can ask him.”
“I’ve got his number,” Eleanor said. “I’ll call.” She got up and went into the kitchen, returning with her address book and her cell phone. Then she dialed the number and put the phone to her ear. “Hi, Trudy,” she said. “This is Eleanor Finely. I’ve got Lila Evans here with me, and we’re looking for Theo. Have you seen him?” She put the phone on speaker.
Trudy’s small voice came through the phone. “Lila came over looking for him earlier. You still haven’t seen him?”
“No,” Eleanor replied.
“Hi, Trudy,” Lila said. “I’m here with Eleanor. Do you happen to know Theo’s last name?”
“You know, oddly I don’t. Let me check with Judd. Hang on just a second.”
“Hey, Lila!” Rex’s voice came over the speaker.
“Hi, Rex,” she said with a smile.
“I can help you,” he offered.
“You can?” Lila asked, picking at her banana bread, her mind on anything but the treat under her fingers.
“Yep. I asked Theo what his whole name was one time and he said, ‘Just Theo,’ and when I said, ‘But what’s your last name,’ he said, ‘I don’t have a last name anymore.’”
“What?” Eleanor asked, her face crumpling in confusion.
“He’s weird about his last name for some reason,” Lila said. “He wouldn’t tell it to me either.” She turned back to the call. “Thanks for your help, Rex.”
“No problem.”
Just then Trudy returned. “Hey, y’all, I’m back. I just asked Judd and he said he wasn’t sure of his last name either, but he thought it might be Brown.”
“Thank you, Trudy,” Lila said, knowing it wasn’t. Theo had told her that himself.
Eleanor ended the call. Then all of a sudden, Lila remembered what Piper had said about the coffee shop when they’d first arrived: I read an article about this place and it suggested that someone mysterious owns it… No one knows who the owner is for sure. The article I read said all the transactions have been made under the pseudonym Brian Brown. If you ask the barista, they say he won’t utter a word about it.
She needed to call Piper. Maybe she had some further intel.
“Eleanor, do you mind if I head back to my cabin for a little while?” she asked, worried that