Where's Hansel and Gretel's Gingerbread House?: A Gabby Grimm Fairy Tale Mystery #2
documents are missing,” Ervina
sighed. Nettie and I looked at each other and grinned.
    “Well, the paper versions are gone,” I
agreed, “but we have photos of them on my cell phone.”
    “Are they legible?” Gerhard’s appetite for
investigation was whetted.
    “I believe they are.” I flipped on my cell
phone and showed him. As he read, his eyes widened and narrowed. I
could only imagine what he was thinking.
    “Can I download these?” Ah, the benefits of
buying the same Smartphone as my dad. I took his cord and plugged
in both ends to complete the transfer. Moments later, the data had
been copied to his laptop.
    At eleven, I bid the group good night and
headed back to my carriage house. I got into my pajamas and poured
myself a glass of wine, settling on the sofa to watch the day’s
news. I turned on my laptop, hoping that Sam had left me a message.
It had been quite some time since he had sent me one. Coming up to
Christmas, I missed him more than I cared to admit. In all the
months we had been together, he had been gone more than he had been
around. I understood it was his job to travel the world, on the
hunt for terrorists, but that didn’t make life any easier,
especially at the holidays. Boy, New Year’s Eve was looking like a
bust, too.
    I quickly cleared the spam from my inbox and
then went through the messages. A part of me felt like I was
wasting my time checking the emails, getting my hopes up for no
reason at all. And then I read the email from “Harry Mann”.
Instantly, I knew it was a message from Sam.
    Dear Fraulein Grimm, we are sending your
Christmas marzipan pig and Schladerer pralines next week. Please
expect delivery of your order by 17 December. Sincerely yours,
Harry Mann, manager.
    That rascal was sending me goodies again.
Only this time around, he would not be around to help me burn off
those calories. How cruel was that? I decided I would share them
with the family. Either that or go cross-country skiing for the
next six weeks. Boy, when I saw him again, I was going to wrap my
arms around that body of his and hold him tighter than tight. It
would take a lot to satiate my lust for him, given how long he was
gone this time. And I still had no way to know when I would
actually see him again. I longed for those lips on mine. I ached
for the touch of his hands on my naked skin, the feel of him on top
of me. This longing wasn’t going away anytime soon.
    With a groan of frustration, I sipped my
Riesling, trying to think of anything but those strong hands and
that tasty mouth. No matter what I tried, I came back to Sam. I was
getting hooked on him. Maybe that wasn’t such a great idea, not if
he was going to be away more than he was home. And yet, he was
worth the wait. I was getting to the point I couldn’t imagine life
without him.
    I felt a nudge on the back of my head. Puss
in need of a chin rub. I pulled the cat into my arms and settled
him down on my lap to watch the weather report. We were expecting a
light dusting of snow overnight, temperatures in the twenties. It
was enough to send me to my bed, pull the down comforter up to my
neck, and cork off for the night.
    I woke up at seven and brewed myself a pot of
coffee. With a dish of Ervina’s cranberry-pecan Greek-style yogurt
and a whole-grain English muffin in front of me, I turned on my
laptop and downloaded the photos of the documents Annette had given
me in the car. I was missing something important. There was that
nagging doubt floating around in the back of my head as I scanned
the information. This was all about concrete, a subject with which
I had little familiarity. This was about financial bids for a
construction job. This was about kickbacks. So how did Joe Fortuna
fit into all this? How did the FBI become interested in my
cousin?
    I stepped back a bit, trying to see the
bigger picture. What did I know about Annette’s work with Frist and
Company? I knew she started working there three years ago, after
she and Paul

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