Come Toy with Me

Taking out her cell, Cat punched in Matt’s number again. Listening to the rings, she paced back to the window and scanned the street for her FedEx man. There was still a chance…But the only truck she spotted was delivering soft drinks to the bar across the street.

Cat closed her eyes and swore under her breath. The same bar where she was supposed to be meeting her father right now! Whirling, she dashed back to the counter and grabbed her tote. She was about to close her cell, when she heard the faint voice in her ear.

“Cat?”

She raced to the second step of the spiral staircase where reception for her cell was usually clearest.

“Matt, where are you? Tell me you’ve shipped the dolls.”

The only reply she received was a burst of static.

“Matt? Are you there?”

“Bad…”

“What?” Please not bad news, Cat prayed.

“Connection…terrible.”

He was right about that. His voice was fading in and out. Cat bit back on her impulse to ask him why he hadn’t called all day. Only one thing mattered now. “Tell me you shipped the dolls.”

“…tomorrow…Thursday…”

Therewas another burst of static.Whichwas it? Did he mean that they wouldn’t ship until tomorrow? Or that they would arrive tomorrow? Thursday was two days from now. Cat swallowed her disappointment. Starting tomorrow afternoon, there could be delays because of that Nor’eastermoving up the coast.

“…want to be there…to open them. Need to…”

“Did you ship all of them?”

There was another burst of static and then the connection was broken. Cat punched in Matt’s number again, but this time she was transferred to his voice mail.

“Call me back with the tracking number,” she said.

She’d feel better once she had something more concrete to go on.

In the meantime, her father was waiting, and tardiness had always been an issue with him. She set the security alarm, locked the door behind her, dashed toward the curb and quickly threaded her way through traffic to Patty’s Pub. Through the window, she spotted her father already seated at one of the tables.

For the first time all day, she had time to wonder just what urgent matter had brought her father all the way down to this end of town.

THE PHONE RANG, and the hand that reached for the receiver trembled slightly. Breathe. Don’t panic. “Hello.”

“Where are the dolls?” The voice on the other end of the line was soft and chilling.

Ashudderwas ruthlessly suppressed. “They’ve been delayed. They should arrive tomorrow—Thursday at the latest.”

The long silence caused a fresh flutter of panic.

“You’ll be in the shop when the shipment arrives?”

“Yes. Of course.”

“I’ll expect the doll I ordered no later than Thursday. Otherwise…”

The line went dead.

3

JAMES MCGUIRE ROSE as his daughter threaded her way through the packed restaurant. The crowd was a lively one, and the noise level nearly succeeded in muting the tinny-sounding Christmas carols that poured through the speakers. He’d arrived half an hour early and tipped the hostess to find him a table.

This wasn’t the type of place hewould have chosen, but he’d learned years ago to pick his battles with his daughter. And a pretty little waitress named Colleen had informed him that the Mulligan’s stewhere had been written up in the Zagat’s guide.

A rush of love moved through him when Cat wrapped her arms around him in a warm hug. When he drew back, he held on to her for a moment and studied her face. Just as he’d suspected, there were circles under her eyes. Even as a child, she’d always given every project she worked on her all. It was high time she had something in her life besides that toy store. “It’s been too long, little girl. You have to get away from that store sometimes. I miss you.”

“You could always come down to this end of town and visit me in the Cheshire Cat,” she said.

McGuire winced a little. “Touché. One guilt trip deserves another. Sit down. I ordered you a glass of your favorite wine. Pouilly-Fuissé, right?”

“Right.”

“Colleen here recommended the Mulligan’s stew, so I took the liberty of ordering that, too. I’ll bet you didn’t take time for lunch today.”

Cat narrowed her eyes on her father. “You want something. Why don’t you just come out with it?”

“Now, Cat, can’t you believe your dad just wanted to see you?”

Her eyes narrowed even more. “Maybe when pigs fly.”

He threw back his head and laughed. “Never could put one over on you, could I?”

“Maybe when I was six.”

He raised his glass. “At least take a sip of that wine. It costs the earth.”

Cat’s brows shot up as she reached for her wine. “And that single malt Scotch you’re drinking doesn’t?”

He merely smiled as he touched his glass to hers. “To a very happy holiday season.”

Cat sipped her wine. “You’ve got that gleam in your eyes. You’re up to something. If you came all the way down here to make sure I’m going to Gianna’s big charity ball on Thursday, I’ll be there. I also bought tickets for Adelaide, Josie and Matt. He should be back from Mexico by then.”

“Mexico?” He had to tread carefully. He wasn’t supposed to know much about her store.

She smiled as she took another sip of wine. “He’s in this little village. I’ve told you about Paxco, haven’t I?”

“Remind me,” he said. She actually started to glow when she talked about her business. It was something she rarely spoke of when the family gathered because of Gianna’s preference that she get out of retail. His wife had even gone so far as to offer her a job at Merceri Bank.

“Matt had to fly down there yesterday because this one shipment of dolls has been delayed. If it doesn’t get here, there are going to be twenty-four little girls who won’t get what they want from Santa.”

No wonder she was worried, McGuire thought. Her mother had died on Christmas Eve, and ever since then, Cat had put a lot of effort into making sure that everything was perfect at Christmastime. He’d done the same for her. But he couldn’t read any sign that she suspected something other than dollmaking was going on in Paxco. He placed a hand over hers. “Don’t worry, little girl. They’ll get here.”