“Nothing, let’s hope,” I said. “Or at least, with you on guard, nothing here.”

“The chief sent out orders for everyone to lock up tight tonight,” he said. “I remember when nobody had to lock his front door here in Caerphilly.”

“I’ll let you know if I spot anyone suspicious lurking outside,” I said.

“Right,” he said, with a grudging nod of approval as he held the door for me.

As I followed the rest of the family, I heard him testing the lock behind us.

On the first part of the way home the boys woke up long enough to serenade us with some of the songs the choir had performed. The results might have been more melodic if they were old enough to have any idea of pitch and key and if they could have been persuaded to sing the same song at the same time, but Michael and I enjoyed it anyway. I wasn’t quite so sure about Rob. Still, I was relieved when both of their voices began to fade—bedtime would go so much more easily if we could just carry them to bed and tuck them in, still unconscious.

“I see your mother’s been busy again,” Michael murmured as he walked into the foyer with Jamie over his shoulder.

“It’s like living at the North Pole,” Rob muttered as he hauled Josh upstairs.

I was relieved to see that Mother hadn’t rearranged everything—just added a little more of everything. More greenery. More ribbons. More tinsel. About the only annoying thing she’d done was arrange for someone to fit out the entire downstairs with little wireless speakers to pipe in an endless supply of soft instrumental Christmas music. It took me fifteen minutes to find the central source of the music—an iPod set up in the kitchen pantry—and silence it for the night.

I checked to make sure the library was ready for the sewing bee and Michael’s office, with its dangerous cargo of unwrapped presents was locked. Then, after a quick visit to the boys’ rooms to plant good night kisses on their sleeping foreheads, I fell into bed. It was still dark the next morning when my cell phone rang.

Chapter 14

It was my phone ringing, not Michael’s pager—something to be thankful for, I supposed. I fumbled to answer it.

“Meg?” It was Robyn. “I hope I didn’t wake you.”

I knew it was customary under such circumstances to protest that no, of course, she hadn’t awakened me, I had been up for hours. But it was 6:00 A.M. and I wasn’t sure I could manage the obligatory cheerful tone with any grace, so I skipped to the point.

“What’s wrong?” I asked.

“Can you come in and work your magic on the schedule again?”

I blinked for a few moments, puzzled.