The Christmas Thief, Melissa Willingham [motivational books for women .txt] 📗

As I opened up the heavy oak door, I deeply inhaled the crisp clean air. During the wintertime it always had a clear, fresh quality that I delightedly relished in. Lily white snow was softly falling, decorating the landscape of lush shrubbery, tall trees and brownish-green grass.

In just a few days it would be Christmas. I looked so forward to the holiday which celebrated the birth of the baby Jesus. The idea that God cared so much about humans that He would send His own son to save us really touched my heart.

I stepped out onto the porch and closed the front door, tugging my coat tighter about me. Surveying the scenery and noting that nothing was amiss, I relaxed a bit. Rumors were circulating around regarding the mischievous crook, dubbed the Christmas thief.

Not much was known about the stealthy shadowy figure, except his name, Maurice Ragsdale. He appeared to have no past that anyone was aware of. He broke into the homes of the wealthy and middle-class, searching for valuable loot. Police had him in custody for a while. But recently he’d escaped and resumed his shady business of burglarizing unsuspecting domains.

 I traversed the length of the porch and shivered slightly from the cold temperatures. Turning to the steps, I made my way down to the lawn and traipsed through the snow. Ever since the news reports indicated the burglar’s flee from justice, I regularly checked the perimeter of my house. The word was that he was lurking somewhere within a 5-mile radius, dressed up as Santa Claus.

Naturally, my concern was he’d choose to target my residence. Although I lived in a modest, one-story farmhouse and made a meager income, I felt nervous I’d receive a visit from this character. Due to my grandparents’ will, I’d inherited priceless family heirlooms, a Faberge egg and Limoges China. Thus, it fell to me to protect these antique treasures.

After trudging along for a while and slowly encircling the property, I sighed with relief. Preparing to head back around to the front door, I suddenly stopped abruptly. On my previous trips, there had been only one set of footprints in the snow, my own. Now, I clearly saw the outline of shoes a few sizes larger than I wore. They appeared to lead to and from the heavily wooded area on the western side of the house.

Glancing over to the frosty-capped tree tops, I stared purposefully into the wilderness beyond. The only activity present was of birds and furry animals. Just when I decided to abandon my search for intruders, I saw a small movement. Peering deeper into the woods, I made out a red and white suit, along with black boots.

Upon closer inspection, I realized they belonged to a man trying to fade into the scenery around him. With this knowledge, I could feel fright mixed with anger welling up within me. So, I grabbed a stick of wood from a nearby wood stack and charged forward.

I rushed headlong into the wooded area and shouted,”Hey, you! Get out of here! Get off of my land now!”

At that, the white-bearded interloper spun an about-face. He tore off for the safety of the thicket in which he’d covertly immersed himself. He stopped only once when his Santa hat flew off. Bending down momentarily, he glanced back to gauge my advance, before continuing.

I gave a good chase to the fleeing bandit, coming closer and closer to his retreating back. Unfortunately, instead of focusing on my surroundings, I concentrated on him. This proved to be to my detriment. All of a sudden a willowy branch that I never saw coming, smacked me right in the face. Taken by surprise and temporarily stunned, I staggered backwards and wobbled uncertainly. Next thing I knew, my fanny was kissing the wet, icy ground below.

The Christmas thief paused to peer mockingly in my direction, before bursting into a fit of giggles. “Ho! Ho! Ho! And away I go!” he yelled, taunting me.

Then he proudly strutted off like a rooster. But the joke was on him, for he ran right into a huge oak tree. I could tell it knocked him cuckoo because he froze instantly and dropped to the ground on his knees.

“Now who’s laughing, you jerk?” I challenged him defiantly, struggling to a sitting position. However, before I could hoist myself to my feet, he regained his senses and fled undaunted.

***

Once I made it back inside the house, I knew that something must be done about this incident. Chances were great on the odds this guy would return to attempt his thievery again. Luckily for me, I had ventured outside at the right time and caught him before he acted on his impulses.

Phoning my brother, Harris, who lived 200 miles away in the big city of Atlanta, I explained my dilemma. He’d already heard of the culprit stalking my area and grew immediately concerned. My welfare and the safekeeping of the heirlooms were of the utmost importance to him as well.

“Karen, I worry about you being out there on that isolated stretch of land. You really should consider moving out of that old farmhouse and coming to Atlanta,” he suggested.

“No way, Harris, I’m more than happy where I am. Besides, gramps and grams wanted us to keep their farm in the family. You know that just as well as I do.”

“Okay, there’s no use arguing with you. You’re too stubborn to listen anyway. Well, let’s figure out what to do about this little problem you’re having. I don’t want you to end up getting hurt.”

“He hasn’t harmed anyone so far, but you never know. I’m open to any ideas, bro. Actually, I’ll probably call the cops and have them search the premises. Not that it’ll do much good though,” I lamented.

“I wish I could come up for Christmas. I just have so much freaking paperwork to do. Anyhow, it’d take me hours to get there.” He grew quiet, obviously pondering the situation over and toying with a resolution.

“It’s too bad they can’t patrol the area regularly. Better yet, I wish an officer would stay with me until they catch this individual.”

Suddenly, Harris spoke up excitedly. “Karen, I know exactly what we should do. Do you remember my friend, Larry Hodges, the detective? You met him a few times at get-togethers. I think you might’ve gone out on a couple of dates with him, too.”

I perused the cobwebs of my mind, before a memory surfaced. “Oh, yes. I believe I recall going out to dinner with him a time or two. He was at some of the parties we attended. He seemed nice, but works a lot, from what he told me. That’s why he and I never pursued anything more. What about him?”

“He’s taken some time off for a two-week Christmas vacation. I’ll call him and discuss this matter. He lives an hour’s drive south of you. If he’s free, maybe he’d be willing to keep you company for a few days, until the thief is captured. What do you think of that?” he wondered.

I considered the suggestion, weighing the pros and cons involved. Hmmm. Me, all alone in the house for an indefinite period of time with a sexy detective. Not a tough decision to make. I mean, how could a warm-blooded, thirty-something young woman like me refuse such an offer?

“Sure, sounds good to me,” I agreed, deliberately masking my enthusiasm. “Why not ask him?”

***

Two hours later, I found myself reclining comfortably on the soft-cushioned sofa in the den with Larry. He smiled warmly at me and stood up to go throw another log on the fire. The room felt so nice and toasty. It was certainly enjoyable to have the assistance of a big, strong handsome man. I admired his dark brown eyes and raven hair shimmering in the flickering light.

He rejoined me, easing down slowly at the opposite end of the couch. We both nursed glasses of champagne, which added to the cozy atmosphere as it swirled inside my tummy. It grew harder for me to think of the unfortunate incident that took place earlier. My mind seemed intent on dwelling on the thirtyish, muscular man who regarded me from a slight distance. No doubt he was drawn to my flaming auburn hair and bright, blue eyes sparkling in the dim glow.

“Larry, I do appreciate your driving all the way up here to babysit me and my valuables. Thank you for being so thoughtful and considerate,” I told him.

“No problem, Miss Crawford. It isn’t that far of a drive and I’m glad to help out. It’s been a while since we’ve seen one another and it’s good to be here,” he replied.

“Call me Karen. We kind of know one another already.  And I’m so glad you were available to hang out here for a couple of days or so. Hopefully, they’ll nab that thieving scoundrel soon.”

“Yeah, it’s just a matter of time until they haul his tail back to prison. Anyway, I have plenty of free time on my hands and assisting a lady in need is my job. But, this is a freebie for you and Harris. Think of it as a favor. Now, I’ll need to know a little more about these items I’m protecting, please.”

Taking a leisurely sip of my Dom Perignon, I leaned forward and began to summarize the articles in question. “First of all, they are locked up tight in a safe. But, I can’t be sure that this villain won’t be able to figure out the combination and steal them from me. I hear Maurice Ragsdale is quiet adept at picking locks. He may also be skilled at cracking safes, too,” I mused.

Larry nodded and waited for me to continue with my description of the treasures I sought to hold onto. So, I delved into a brief history of the priceless antiquities.

“One of the heirlooms is a Faberge egg, which is part of a set of 69 jeweled eggs made by Peter Carl Faberge and his assistants. These eggs are custom made of precious metals or hard stones and are decorated with combinations of enamel and gemstones. Each individual egg is unique and the designs include a surprise on the inside.  They are connected with the last days of the Romanov Dynasty and were created between 1885 and 1917. They are used for decorative art.”

Larry listened with interest, apparently fascinated by the historical significance associated with my opulent possessions. I moved on to my other valued collection. “The second piece is actually a set of 20 Limoges China collectibles. They’re made of fine bone porcelain, which dates back to the late 18th century. Obviously, the Faberge egg is worth considerably more than the Limoges China, but both are dear to me. They were very precious to my grandparents who left them to Harris and I. He entrusted me with their safe-keeping.”

Larry flashed an understanding grin in my direction. “Don’t worry, Karen. I’ll help you see after them.”

“Thanks, I’m sure between the two of us, they’ll remain here where they belong,” I pronounced. As my eyes darted about the room, I noted that my Christmas decorations were still scattered and unfinished. I mentioned this fact to my detective friend.

“Say no more. I’m more than happy to lend a hand.” He rose to a standing position and offered me his palm. I accepted gratefully and he gently, yet playfully tugged me upwards to his side. We immediately took on the task of finding a place for the ornaments and decor on our first night together.

***

On the second day, Larry and I finished up with the decorations and spent most of the day outside. We had a snowball fight, made snow angels and built a snowman together. Having him over was proving to be a wonderful experience for both