Welcome back to Steve Leonard who is making a highly anticipated return to the Advent Calendar! BUT NO PRESSURE, STEVE!
This particular offering is a crossover between one of my series and another author's work. I think it would be fun to let you all guess--well, it's not going to be hard to guess which of my series is involved, but who is the other author? And which series? THERE COULD BE A PRIZE FOR THE PERSON WHO FIGURES IT OUT FIRST!
Bull in a Book Shop
“I’m sure it’s him, JH,” the tall
kid said as he glanced for about the hundredth time toward the front of the
store where two men were leaning against the garland-draped sales counter
drinking coffee. And, for about the hundredth time, the teen averted his eyes
the moment he made eye contact with the man wearing a police uniform.
“I don’t
know, bubs,” a handsome blond man replied, glancing from the phone in the
teen’s outstretched hand to the two men. “It’s been years since I’ve seen any
of those movies.”
“I know
it’s him. Ash’ll think this is so dope!” He scrunched up his brow for a few
moments before his eyes went wide and he gasped. “I bet North will know!” He
held his phone up to surreptitiously get a photo of the man in question.
“Oh
fiddlesticks,” a tall, well-built man with dark hair and amber eyes muttered.
Of course, he didn’t say fiddlesticks, and he probably said the word louder
than he intended, judging from the round of gasps coming from several aisles.
Or maybe not. He reached for the teen’s phone but the kid was quicker and
pulled it out of his reach. “Oh, for the love of Benji,” – not Benji – “why don’t
you just ask him, Colt?”
“I can’t,
Pops!”
“It is,
dearie,” a voice said out of nowhere.
“Holy
schnykies!” (again, not schnykies), the two older men yelped in unison, jumping
nearly a foot as a sales associate about the size of a garden gnome materialized,
seemingly out of thin air. She was dressed like she’d just hopped off of
Santa’s sleigh, so maybe an elf instead?
“It is?”
the teen – Colt – asked.
“It certainly
is. Elliott Parker in the flesh.”
“I knew it!”
He peered at the name tag the woman was wearing. “Thank you, Nora!”
She patted
his arm. “My pleasure, dearie.” She turned to the two older men. “Can I help
you find something?”
The
dark-haired man looked down at her. “You have a surprisingly adequate selection
of books for being on an island in the middle of nowhere. Although how you can
find anything is beyond me. You’d think that a small, independent bookstore such
as yours would focus on local community interests, historical browsing behavior,
and themed displays over strict commercial logic. For instance—“
“Do you
have any documentaries on video or DVD?” the blond man interrupted, smiling as
he put a hand on the other man’s bicep. “The drier and more esoteric the
better.”
“Esoteric?”
the dark-haired man said, one eyebrow raised. “I see you finally downloaded
that ‘Word of the Day’ app I recommended, John.” He turned to the older woman.
“I found one with a built-in pronunciation key. For somebody who went to the
University of—“
“Your fly’s
open, love,” the blond man, John, said, which caused the big man to pull up
short and check himself.
“Son of a
gun!” Only, not son of a gun.
“Language,
Ree.”
“Omigosh, he
falls for it every time,” the teen laughed, high fiving the handsome blond.
“I know,
it’s like Groundhog Day.”
The
dark-haired man, Ree, groused. “This from the man who strolled through Logan
International two days ago exposing himself to holiday-goers from far and wide—“
“Hush now.”
The tiny
sales associate took this as her cue to intervene. “We have a few copies of
‘When the Mountains Lost Their Names.’”
“I’ve been
waiting for that one,” the taller man said, his face lighting up brighter than
the Christmas tree in the front display window. “’A trek into a range where all
maps have become unreliable, prompting explorers to question whether the land
itself is erasing its identity to escape us,’” he recited, obviously from
memory. “Sounds fascinating. Lead on.”
By this
time the man in the police uniform and the storekeeper had finished their
coffee. They kissed briefly and the officer whispered something to the other
man before slipping out the front door. Smiling, the shopkeeper turned to his
customers and moved to join them, just as a small dog came bounding out from
behind the sales counter.
Arf! Arf! Arf!
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