Free Magic in Christmas River: A Christmas Cozy Mystery (Christmas River Cozy Book 7) by Meg Muldoon

That’s practically unheard of here in this casino. Practically unheard of anywhere – slots are a losing game, I always say.”
    I felt a bright grin possess my face.
    “Sounds like you two are having a rip-roaring time in old Lincoln City,” I said,
    “I can’t argue with you there, Cinny Bee,” he shouted over another loud ding.
    I felt my grin grow brighter.
    “But should you really be talking to me right now? I thought that you weren’t allowed to use a cell phone in a casino.”
    I hadn’t been gambling in ages, but I did know that casino security didn’t look too kindly on folks using their phones while laying bets.
    “Oh, pish-posh,” Warren said. “Nobody’s going to stand between me and having a conversation with my Cinny. Now what’s got you worried, hon?”
    I felt my eyebrows arch in surprise.
    “Who said anything about me being worried?” I said. “I just left you a message earlier to see how you youngin’s are doing over there.”
    “Remind me again: how long have I known you?” he asked.  
    I puckered my lips together.
    “Um, I don’t know,” I said, adding a heavy layer of sarcasm to my voice. “Like, my whole life.”
    “That’s right,” he said. “And in those thirty-something years, have you ever been able to pull the wool over old Warren’s eyes when somethin’ was upsetting you?”
    I thought about it for a moment, making my way over to the window, looking out as the sunset cast an eerie, fiery red light across the forest floor.
    “Well, I guess the answer is: Never.”
    “Mmhmm,” he said, rather pleased with himself. “Now, I heard that message you left. And while I know you were trying to put up a brave front, I could hear it in your voice. Something’s got you worried or preoccupied or something. Why don’t you tell old Warren about it?”
    “All right, you got me,” I said, after a momentary pause. “But I’m not so much worried as I am wanting to ask you about something.”
    I still wasn’t being completely honest with him, but I didn’t want to burden the old man. Especially when he was on his honeymoon, and maybe more importantly, on a winning streak at the slots.
    “Go on and shoot,” he said.
    “Well, a funny thing happened yesterday,” I said. “I was here in the pie shop, alone. And, well, you know all the renovation work going on here?”
    “Sure,” Warren said. “You think it’ll be done this side of the New Year?”
    I grinned.
    “Fingers crossed,” I said.
    The upgrades had begun in September, and were supposed to have been finished by the end of that month. But, as I found out, the contractor that Alex Rosell, a business developer who was investing in my pie shop, had hired wasn’t exactly the fastest man on the planet. His work was beautiful, and the dining room and kitchen were looking better than I thought possible. But he’d been dragging his heels these last few weeks, and it seemed like the renovations might not ever end.
    “But anyway, I was here alone,” I continued. “And I heard this noise out of the blue that scared the hell out of me.”
    I paused for a second.
    “Then what?” Warren said.
    “I went over to see what it was.”
    “And?”
    “Something had fallen out of the brick wall,” I said. “A ring.”
    “A ring ?”
    I nodded, though I knew he couldn’t see me.
    “Not just a ring. A Christmas River High School class ring. From 1958.”
    “Really?” he said.
    “Yeah. And it had the initials RHB on it.”
    I waited, but Warren didn’t respond. I continued.
    “So I went to the high school library this afternoon. You know, to see who the ring belonged to? And it matched up to a name… Ralph Henry Baker. Class of 1958.”
    “Cin—”
    “I mean, I know you were a few years ahead of that class,” I said. “But I figured Christmas River was such a small town back then that you might have known Ralph or the Baker family. And maybe you could tell me—”
    “ Sir , there are no phones allowed on the