In Love by Christmas: A Paranormal Romance by Sandy Nathan Page A

almost over. I don’t know anything about what happened, except that my grandfather is the best person I ever met.”
    Doug jumped in. “I was at the retreat the whole time and I don’t know what happened. Everything was fine until a bunch of hoodlums brought out the booze. They had threatened to cause trouble every year, but this year they did it. They had mushrooms, psychedelics. I don’t know what. They started a riot.
    “Grandfather got us to a cave where nothing could get us.” Doug nodded at Leroy. “His grandfather is the most wonderful person in the world. And Leroy got to the retreat the night before we came home. He didn’t see anything.”
    “Good heavens,” said Lord Ballentyne. “Drunken ruffians on drugs caused a riot? Is that what all the fuss is about? What about the monsters?”
    “I didn’t see any.” Doug raised his hand. “Swear to God.” Leroy was amazed by how easily Doug lied, and with such a convincing effect. But then he had lied. He’d told the Lords his first lie. He had blown up the bull to save his father.
    “Were there monsters?” Lord Ballentyne’s eyebrows rose so high that they nearly hit his hairline.
    “I’m not supposed to say anything more. It’s classified .” Doug’s face was emotionless.
    “Oh.”
    “Every federal agency you can think of interviewed everyone from Numenon. They’ve got a division that investigates paranormal experiences and UFOs. That’s where the case ended up. In the division for fruits and nuts. And I’m not supposed to tell you that. It’s all classified.”
    “But the news …”
    “The news destroyed the feds’ case, tromping all over any evidence. Everyone whose spouse ran off in the last ten years is saying it happened at the retreat. All the whackos in the world are swarming the desert and reservation.” Doug shook his head, looking pained. “Your Lordships, we’ve known each other for years. You know I wouldn’t lie to you.”
    “That’s true,” Ballentyne spoke for them all. “It’s classified?”
    “Extremely.”
    “Leroy wasn’t implicated?”
    “No. Tell them, Leroy.”
    He repeated the script he and Doug had worked out as sincerely as possible.
    “Well, if Will Duane and Bill Clinton agreed, it must be true.” Ballentyne nodded gravely and his noble compatriots nodded in sync. “Besides, Leroy has too much potential as a golfer to do wrong.” He chuckled merrily.
    “Where is your grandfather?” said Lord Martingale. Leroy’s eyes filled instantly. The others turned to Martingale, scowling.
    “I say, John, that’s rather personal,” Ballentyne added quickly.
    Doug cut in again, which was a good thing, because Leroy’s eyes swam with tears. Doug spoke barely above a whisper. “Every year after the retreat, Grandfather—that’s what we all called him—went for a walk in the desert. This year he didn’t come back.” Leroy jumped to his feet and ran toward the men’s room, stopping where he could hear what went on at the table, but not be seen. Doug continued. “They’ll never find the body. Scavengers.” The Lords gasped.
    “What brings Leroy to England, if I may ask?” That was Martingale, who Leroy realized was a gadfly, but the one who asked all the questions that no one else would.
    “Leroy did Will a personal favor,” Doug’s calm voice reassured them. “He’s giving him a year on the continent to repay him.”
    “Oh,” the Lords said collectively. All of them had had a year on the continent when growing up. It was a rite of passage. Martingale opened his mouth to ask about the nature of the favor, but Lord Ballentyne cut him off.
    Leroy slipped back to his chair, shaky but composed.
    “Is there anything you’d like to do while you’re here, Leroy?” Ballentyne asked after a moment’s silence.
    “Yes, your Lordship. I’d like to play polo. I’ve never done that. And I’d like to go fox hunting. I’ve never done that either. Though I can’t see any reason for hunting