The Christmas Thief (4 page)

She padded to the door, socks sagging around her ankles. “Yes?” she said, dazed.

Marc stood beyond the glass, his face peering at her from beneath his wide-brimmed hat.

Tasha shook the fog from her brain and opened the door. “Did you come for your paint scraper?”

He shook his head and pointed toward the sky. “The rain’s coming,” he boomed above the growling of the wind. “You’ll need to cover your deck.”

Tasha opened the door wider to let him in. She spied a pair of beat up sneakers in the corner and slid her feet into them. “Are you sure?” she asked, her voice still heavy with sleep.

“I’ve had plenty of work days spoiled by rain clouds. Here.” He handed her one end of the plastic and swiftly walked backward, unrolling a large sheet onto her bare living room floor. Using a utility knife, he slit a section from the roll and gathered it into a bundle.

Plops of water descended from the ominous clouds. Tasha jogged behind Marc as he hurried out to her back deck and began spreading the tarp across the scraped-clean wood. The felt of his hat caught drops with each move.

Water droplets tap danced on the sheeting while Marc and Tasha worked together to flatten the plastic and staple the corners to each deck post. Soon the rain turned into a stampede as it hit the deck, drenching everything she’d left out—tools, snack remnants ... everything.

Huddling beneath the eaves, Tasha wrapped her arms around herself, pulling the extra-long fabric of her sleeves in close. She stared at the wind-driven rain as it soaked its way into the trenches Marc’s crew had so neatly dug into the ground for footings, and threw a questioning glance his way.

He took it all in, then quirked his mouth to one side in a rueful smile. “Just a slight diversion, is all.”

She tilted her head up at him. “Thanks for saving my deck. You’d better get back to your truck before you drown.”

He leaned one steady arm up against the wall of her cabin, creating another protected place for her. He slid a gaze into her home through the window on the deck. “I have a confession to make,” he said, swinging his gaze back to her.

Tasha narrowed her eyes at him, silently chiding herself for letting her guard down so easily.

“I looked at this place before you bought it, so I have a pretty good idea about what its needs are ...”

“And you don’t think I can handle it.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to.” She pushed herself away from the wall and out from under his not-so-faint protection. “I might not be a big strong he-man like you, but I can handle the renovations that my tiny home needs. I’m not as fragile as I look.”

His brilliant smile against his five o’clock shadow lit up the dim space. “I have no doubt about that!”

“Then why the sudden confession?”

He cocked his head in a shrug. “So you would believe me when I told you that you might have a problem with the roof. Have you noticed any wet spots on the ceiling?”

She shrank away from him. “No.”

“That’s good, but you’d better keep an eye on it—especially in the far corner of the living room.” He stooped to pick up the roll of plastic at his feet. “Keep this here, and if you see any leaks at all, call me. I’ll give you my number.”

“I doubt I’ll need it,” she cut in.

He shook his head. “Where’s your phone? I’ll put it in for you.”

She let out a huff and pulled it from her back pocket. “Fine. But like I said, I won’t call you.”

He handed her phone back. “I would feel better knowing that you have my number—just in case.”

The rain moved from heavy to steady and back again. “Well, thank you.” I guess. “You went beyond the call of neighborly duty. My deck and I thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Tash ... people do call you Tash sometimes, right?”

“Never.”

His face broke out into a smile. He winked and said, “You’re welcome, Tasha,” and dashed into the flood pouring from above.

Inside again, Tasha secured the front door and rested her chilled, damp self against a fake wood wall. Wolfy sauntered over and pushed his cold snout into her hand. She slid down onto the carpet and gave her pet’s furry head a quick rub. “How come I suddenly feel like I have two pals watching over me, huh?”

Wolfy’s eyebrows shifted and he emitted an uncomfortable groan while lowering himself onto his paws. With one arm resting on her dog’s back, Tasha stared across the room at the fog-covered picture window that took up so much of one wall. An unfamiliar tapping caused her to shoot a look upward.

Oh no.

She trotted across the living room and peered up at the unmistakable spot forming in the corner—right where Marc had warned her it might. She dragged over a bent-back chair from the dining room, used it as a step stool, and brushed her fingers across the brown-rimmed area.

Moisture.

CHAPTER SIX

What’s Miss Efficient going to do about this now?

Tasha envisioned Roger’s spurious smile taunting her, the same one she had often mistaken for genuine approval.

Don’t get yourself unraveled, Tash. I’ll take the boys to lunch, giving you ample time to smooth it all out
.

How many times had he left her at the office to fix his mess while serving her backhanded compliments?

That’s my girl—always taking the safe route. A little dull, but we love her for it. Don’t we, ladies?

The women on staff at the insurance company could see their relationship for the sham that it was—Roger in it for show, to make his parents happy that he’d chosen someone respectable who could represent them well. They would have two children and a country club membership. She would keep their reputation safe, their life together organized, while Roger kept being Roger. Smart, unfairly handsome, and reckless.

Tasha swallowed back the memory. She hopped off of the makeshift stool and spied the bulky roll of plastic sheeting that Marc had left behind. Her mind swam with possibilities.
You should call Marc. Better yet, put a bucket under the spot and call a roofer in the morning.
She slid another look at the roll of plastic.
That’s Tasha ... a little dull ... always taking the safe route ..
.

Tasha set her jaw and exhaled. She moved outside, braving the storm, and climbed atop the deck railing, using the corner of her cabin to steady herself. She blinked profusely as the wind pushed the rain sideways making the search for damaged shingles fruitless. Covering the roof’s front corner with plastic might fend off more damage—but it might not. Years earlier her father and uncle carefully sealed off an area of their home’s roof right above a water spot. Unfortunately, it turned out that the leak came from farther up the roof—the peak, actually—and had carved out a path in the attic before finding an exit through the ceiling.

She’d have to cover the entire roof.

But how?

Marc had told her to call, but she’d have to be sleeping under a waterfall before she’d do that. Her phone rang in her pocket, and she groaned. If this was some sort of sign that she should call her neighbor, she wasn’t biting.

Careful not to slip, Tasha stepped onto the patio, the sheeting beneath her feet waterlogged. Water pooled around her feet. The phone continued to ring, so she made her way inside and pulled it from her pocket—Lorena.

She answered the call.

“Some storm!” Lorena said. “What’re you doing tonight?”

“You don’t want to know what I’m doing.”
Or thinking of doing ...

“It’s gotta be more interesting than all the sewing I’m catching up on. Owie ... I’ve pricked my finger too many times already.”

Tasha pressed her lips together and stared at the floor. “Well,” she finally said, “I’m not sure if interesting is the right word.”

Lorena tsked. “That doesn’t sound good.”

“It’s not. I have a roof leak, apparently. I’m trying to find out where it started.”

Lorena’s voice turned motherly. “Is it that bad?”

Tasha craned her neck in search of the spot. The quarter-sized circle had grown to the size of a serving dish. “Yup. I think it is.”

“Oh, honey. Better get a bucket.”

“Yes, of course, but I’ll have to do much more than that to save my ceiling.”

“Short of climbing up on that roof to cover the hole, there’s not much else you could do tonight, sweetie. It’ll be dark soon.”

Silence.

Lorena gasped. “Tasha? You are not planning to go up on that roof!”

“It doesn’t look that difficult.”
Except for that driving rain.
“The pitch of the roof is fairly gradual.”

“That settles it. I’ll be over as soon as I can find my hiking boots. I know the house. Ms. Jordan called the camp once and asked me to bring by a cherry pie. Said she’d heard I was the best, which, of course, is true.”

Tasha shook her head, her wet curls tickling her face. “Lorena, I’ve been planning to invite you over ...”
Well, she was ...
“but not to work. I—”

“Listen girlfriend, two heads are better than one—especially when they’re female!” Lorena’s laughter filled the cell phone line. “Do you have anything to cover the roof with? Otherwise I could probably dig up something. George is down the hill tonight at the fire station, but I could call—”

“Yes! Plastic sheeting that M... that a neighbor left for me. There’s enough here to cover the whole roof, I think.”

“That place is rather tiny, as I recall it.”

“Just over 800 square feet.”

Lorena whistled. “Holy cow, I’d say that’s tiny. Well, then, I’ve found my boots—they were over by the fireplace drying out. See you in a few.”

And the line went silent.

~~~

Tasha changed into dry jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt. She started a pot of coffee, retrieved her black windbreaker from the hall closet, and paced as she waited for Lorena to arrive. The daylight sank further into clouds. She went back to the closet, this time for a couple of flashlights.

A rattling of her front door spooked Wolfy who galloped across the room and skidded into the door with a thud.

“Girlfriend, it’s me! Hurry up before I’m washed away!”

Tasha flung open the door and Lorena bustled inside looking like Paddington with her blue coat dripping onto the concrete floor and her yellow hat dwarfing her head. “Don’t just stand there gaping at me! What does a girl have to do to get a towel around here?”

Right! While Lorena hung her wet things on the coat rack, Tasha grabbed a clean towel from the laundry basket and handed it to her. “Coffee?”

“A big, fat mug of it is what I need. Whew. Had no idea how bad it was out there.” She accepted the smoky brew from Tasha and took a seat at the dining table, rivulets of water scurrying down her cheeks. “Wish George could be home tonight. Can’t be much fun for him to watch the rain tonight with a bunch of sweaty men.”

“Speaking of George, what would he say if he knew you were over here tonight?”

Her boss and friend waved a chubby hand at her. “Not to worry ... where’s your ladder?”

Tasha frowned. “Oh Lorena.”

Lorena returned Tasha’s frown with a smug smile. She pointed toward the ceiling. “Hear that? That’s the sound of rain clearing. We might very well be getting a break here any minute, so chop-chop.”

Tasha glanced outside to the darkening sky. The wind and rain had indeed subsided, but a steady drizzle remained. They’d have to work quickly. She grabbed her coat on the way out, with Lorena right behind her.

“Hold up,” Lorena said. “Tell me your ladder’s not in that shed down there.” She pointed to a tiny barn-like shed about halfway between the house and the street.

“Only if I lie.”

Lorena shook her head. “Mud’s too thick. Shoot.” She reached out and gave the deck rail a good shaking, but it didn’t budge. “I’m no stick like you, but I’m pretty sure this’ll hold me.”

“I’ve already stood on it, so I know it’s sturdy. A little slippery, though, so we’ve got to be careful.”

Lorena nodded. “Well, I’m convinced. I’ll go up first. All we need is the plastic.”

Back inside, the women shoved the couch into the cramped kitchen and unrolled the sheeting as far as possible. They unraveled enough to cover four times the size of the room, folding layers upon each other, then Tasha cut the section from the roll. She handed Lorena a hammer and a box of nails. “Just a quick fix, okay? I’ll hire a roofer when the rain clears.”

Together the women hauled the plastic out onto the deck. Lorena set her end of the sheeting down, climbed atop the railing, and then pulled herself up to the low end of the roof. “Shove the tarp up here as best you can, Tasha.”

Tasha pushed a heavy section of plastic onto the roof.

“Got it!” Lorena called out. “I’ll drag my end to the top and then sit up there until I’ve pulled up at least half of it.”

Tasha scrambled behind her, and pulled up the remaining sheeting that hung down along the side of the house. She spread the covering out as far as possible on the low end, while Lorena continued her ascent, spreading the plastic out as best she could.