Customers drifted in and out to purchase trees, but when business slowed after lunch, Kerry cranked up the volume of the music and went back to work crafting wreaths.
Murphy ventured out of the trailer around two. He nodded in her direction, then walked across the street and into Lombardi’s. Half an hour later, he returned with a paper sack, which he handed her.
“The lunch special was meatball subs,” he said. “Claudia thought you might be hungry.”
“Thanks. I’m starved,” Kerry said, unwrapping the sandwich that was oozing with spicy marinara sauce and melted mozzarella.
Murphy sat down at her worktable and poured himself a cup of the spiced cider. “How’re we doing today?”
She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “Eight trees, and half a dozen wreaths.”
He reached for his ever-present notebook. “Not bad. But we really need to put the pedal to the metal to sell all the rest of these trees.”
“That’s why I’m giving away cider and playing Christmas music, Captain Obvious,” she said, trying not to show her annoyance. “Hey, since you’re already up, can you watch the stand for a little while?”
“What for?”
“I’m almost out of materials for the wreaths. I’ll just run over to the wholesale flower market and be right back.”
“Guess that’ll be okay.” He turned and pointed at the pile of trees leaning up against the side of Spammy. “Are those all for deliveries?”
“Yeah,” Kerry said. “They’re all paid for and I’ve tagged each one with the address.” She frowned. “Vic should have been here by now.”
“Forgot to tell you. He’s not coming till after five. He’s got a dentist’s appointment.”
“I wish I’d known that,” Kerry said. “I promised the Fosters and the Carters that they’d have these trees this afternoon.”
Murphy shrugged. “I’ll deliver ’em while you’re gone. Won’t take long.”
“You’re gonna leave the stand unmanned?”
“Just for a few minutes,” he said. “They’re right here in the neighborhood. Don’t worry about it. It’s slow right now. Probably won’t pick back up till five, when people are heading home for the night.”
“But—” she started to protest, but he held up his hand, like a traffic cop.
“I been doing this for years without any help from you, okay? Leave it to me. I know what I’m doing.”
* * *
She was still miffed at her brother’s cavalier attitude when she returned to the Christmas tree stand an hour later and the CLOSED sign was strung across the entrance.
The pile of trees for delivery was definitely diminished. She unloaded her supplies and began tying bows and wiring holly bunches to the wreath forms she’d completed earlier in the day. The late-afternoon sky was gunmetal gray. The temperature had dropped and the wind kicked up bits of dried leaves and pine needles, blowing them around in the frigid winter air.
“Kerry?” Gretchen McCaleb hurried into the tree stand. She was wild-eyed, dressed in a ski jacket with a beanie pulled over unusually messy hair. “Have you seen Austin?”
“Not today,” Kerry said. “Isn’t he with his dad?”
“No. I promised to take him Christmas shopping. We got down to the lobby and I realized I’d left my phone in the apartment. I told him to wait right there in the lobby for me, but when I got downstairs, he was gone! I went back upstairs, thinking maybe he got tired of waiting, but he wasn’t there. I’ve been all over the building, knocked on everybody’s door, but nobody’s seen him. Patrick is on his way over here now.”
Gretchen’s voice was brittle with anxiety. “I can’t find my baby. I don’t know what to do.” She glanced around the stand. “Could he have gone someplace with your brother?”
“Maybe. I just got back here myself,” Kerry said. “Murphy is out making deliveries. Maybe Austin went with him.”
“Any word?” Patrick called as he double-parked his car at the curb. His face was etched with worry. “Has anyone seen him? Did you call the police?”
“I was just about to,” Gretchen said. She reached for her phone, but Patrick put out a hand to stop her. “Look.”
He pointed down the street. Heinz walked haltingly toward them, one hand on his cane, the other clasped firmly around Austin’s arm. “Thank God,” Patrick said softly.
Gretchen took off running, followed by Patrick. She fell to her knees in front of the boy, hugging him tightly to her chest. “Austin! Oh, Austin.”
Heinz released the child’s hand and now stood a few awkward inches away.
Gretchen looked up at the old man. “How could you do that? How could you take my boy? Do you know how frightened we’ve been?”
“Gretch!” Patrick said sharply.
“No, Mom!” Austin cried. “Don’t yell at Mr. Heinz. Don’t be mad at him. It’s not his fault.” He struggled to escape his mother’s grasp.
“Austin?” Patrick said sternly. “What happened? Where did you go?”
“I found Murphy’s bike! The one the bad guys stole,” Austin said. “I was waiting in the lobby, like Mom said, but then I saw him ride by the building on it. So I followed him. And I saw where he was hiding it.”
“What’s this about my bike?” Murphy asked as he joined the group.
“I found your bike!” Austin said proudly. “The bad guys took it.”
Patrick looked up at Heinz. “Is this true?”
“Two blocks away,” Heinz said. “On Hudson Street. I don’t usually walk that way, but today, I needed my glasses repaired at a shop there. I was coming out when I saw our little friend here, peeking out from behind a telephone pole.”
“The bad guy hid the bike under the stoop!” Austin said. “There’s a little gate, and he put it there and locked it up. But I know right where it is now!”
“It does look like Murphy’s bicycle. And the trailer is there too,” Heinz said. He turned his head and coughed into a handkerchief.
“Who did you see with the bike? Which bad guy?” Murphy asked. “Do you mean one of those dudes selling Christmas trees over there?” He pointed toward the Brody brothers’ hut.
“I, uh, I’m not sure. He had on a hoodie. Like the color army guys wear. And sunglasses. But I knew it was Murphy’s bike because of the sign on the back. Tolliver Tree Farm. Right?”
Gretchen was still kneeling. She grasped her son’s jacket by the collar. Tears streamed down her face. “Austin. You can’t ever, ever do anything like that again. Little boys can’t just wander around the streets of the city. There are some really bad people out there…”
“I’m almost six and a half! And I wasn’t wandering,” Austin said indignantly. “I was on the street where Dad and me get our hair cut. I was going to come home, as soon as I figured out how to get Murphy’s bike back. And then Mr. Heinz saw me. And he’s one of the good guys, right?”