But before calling it a night, she returned to the kitchen, where her parents had started a new game of crazy eights.

Wouldn’t her father’s ability to play a simple game of cards be hampered if he had Alzheimer’s? She wasn’t sure. Tomorrow, she’d go on the Internet and look up the symptoms before bringing up the subject with her mother. She needed to check her e-mail tomorrow anyway.

“I’m calling it a night, folks. I’m beat,” Lauren said, and gave her father a hug and kissed her mother’s rosy-red cheek. “Dinner was excellent as usual, Mom,” she said. “I’ll make dinner tomorrow night, give you the night off, if that’s okay.”

“Yes, of course, it’s fine, Lauren. Anytime you want, this old kitchen is all yours,” her mother said.

“Then I’ll plan on it.”

As she made her way upstairs, thoughts of tomorrow’s dinner plans were replaced by concern about her father. Was it possible he had some physical or even mental disorder that forced him to live in the past? Unsure, she knew she’d have to do whatever it took to find out.

Chapter 3

Monday, December 2, 2019

As soon as Lauren entered the store, she bumped the thermostat up to seventy degrees. It was the coldest day of the season, according to the local weather report. Twenty-one degrees. She used the remote to turn on the lights and started the sound system so she would have Christmas music playing in the background. She never turned the music on until the first day of December. To her way of thinking, December 1 was the official beginning of the Christmas season. A personal quirk of hers.

She filled the kettle with water and turned on the gas fireplace. With any luck, it would warm up the store in no time. The building was old and rickety, and took a while to get warm when the temperature went below freezing.

She made herself a cup of tea, then carried it with her as she walked up and down the aisles, checking to make sure everything was just so before she unlocked the door. She’d thought about opening at 7:00 again but decided to stick to their usual hours of 9:00 to 5:00 since the biggest shopping weekend of the season was over and opening early hadn’t made all that much difference.

Convinced that there wasn’t much left to do other than unlock the door, she did so and went back to her office. The bell she had hung over the door would alert her to customers, so she felt free to get down to work.

First, she called Roger Riedel and explained what she wanted him to do.

“Lauren, this isn’t a sound investment. I would advise against it,” he said, when she explained why she wanted funds transferred to Razzle Dazzle’s business account.

“Probably not, but it is my money,” she countered. “And the store is mine in every sense of the word. My parents are retired, and I know for a fact that the store will go to me when . . . when they’re no longer here.” She didn’t like saying the words aloud, but it was a reality, and unlike her father, Lauren didn’t see the world through rose-colored glasses.