After that, it was time for the exchange of presents. Though Everett had not mentioned gifts, no one had shown up on Christmas Eve empty-handed.

Rachel had swung by Harrods and braved the holiday rush to get colorful socks and ties for both her father and uncle, something she told John was an old tradition when she was young and insisted on giving them presents. They were just what they had wanted and told her so. Then she handed a small package to John.

“No ties or socks for the detective?” mused Everett.

“I haven’t known him long enough to get a fashion sense,” said Rachel.

“Not much fashion here, and some might say not that much sense,” John responded as he opened the gift.

It was a 45 record single.

“Palisades Park?” asked Grant, reading the title over John’s shoulder.

“Private joke,” Rachel said softly.

The look in John’s eyes made her heart swell. “I love it.” He gave Rachel a warm peck on the cheek, then produced a tiny package of his own for her.

She opened it and emitted a tiny gasp.

Inside the box were two pearl-white earrings with a beautiful impression of the London Eye Ferris wheel etched in black on them.

“They’re simply beautiful.”

“Great minds think alike.”

Rachel returned John’s gentle kiss and was grateful that both her father and uncle had the good sense not to interrupt “The Gift of the Magi” moment.

Grant, who always told Rachel and her mother that he was the “world’s worst gift giver,” didn’t disappoint when he handed Amazon gift certificates to both John and his brother. “I had no idea what to get either of you, so I figured you’d manage to find something you want yourselves.”

But he subsequently damaged that self-anointed reputation when he surprised Rachel with a gorgeous pink-and-brown cashmere Burberry scarf.

“It’s absolutely lovely, Daddy,” she said. Genuinely touched that her father had actually taken the time to step into a store and pick something out specifically for her, Rachel give him a big hug.

“My turn now,” said her uncle. Everett crossed over to pick up three presents lying beneath the tree. He handed the first to John. “Detective . . .”

John began to protest. “After dinner and such a wonderful evening . . .”

“Indulge me,” encouraged Everett. He nodded at his niece and brother. “They have had to for years.”

John opened the gift to reveal a DVD and hardcover book. Both were the same title—Gone with the Wind.

“The quintessential American book and film for the quintessential American detective,” Everett explained.

“Wow. I don’t think I’ve seen this since I was a kid,” said John.

“It’s definitely worth watching again. And reading, if you never have.”

“I haven’t,” the detective admitted.

“Something for the plane ride home.”