The Last Noel by Heather Graham Page A

walked over to the piano and started singing, too. Then Frazier joined in, followed by Brenda, and David realized that somewhere along the way he’d started singing himself.
    And so had Scooter.
    The house was warm, everyone was full after dinner, the music was good, and this felt ridiculously like a warm family scene.
    When Skyler finished the first song, she went into “O Little Town of Bethlehem.” From there, she sang about the little drummer boy, letting Jamie take the lead. Uncle Paddy backed him up with his fine Irish tenor.
    When the song ended, Craig clapped, Scooter followed suit, and even Quintin smiled.
    â€œWe should get the ornaments now,” Scooter said eagerly. “And she should keep playing,” he announced, pointing at Skyler.
    â€œAll right,” Quintin said.
    Skyler immediately started playing a rousing rendition of “Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer.”
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    Tears were streaming unnoticed down Kat’s face as she sat on the second-floor landing, listening, paying attention to every word, every nuance of tone.
    She knew she couldn’t leave. She wouldn’t make it even a quarter-mile, much less the distance she would need to go. She had to wait for the weather to subside. The problem was, that was when the killers would be ready to leave, too, and before they did…
    She was also afraid to leave. Afraid something terrible would happen if she did.
    She was her family’s only hope for survival, and she didn’t know what to do, so she listened to the music and let her mind wander, hoping her subconscious would provide an answer while the rest of her mind was distracted.
    Christmas carols were a family staple at the holidays. They could argue among themselves until they were ready to tear each other’s hair out, but the fighting stopped when it was time to gather around the piano.
    She felt a surge of fury. Those monsters were gathered around her piano in her home, threatening her family as her mother played the piano.
    She was still in her parka, afraid to get caught without it, though she had unzipped it because the house was warm.
    Warm and cozy, smelling deliciously of dinner and the bayberry candles her mother had set out. It always amazed her. They came here so infrequently and stayed so briefly, but this place had become a true holiday home for them. In a matter of hours they always managed to get their act together, despite all the bickering.
    She felt a lump in her throat, a rolling in her stomach. Craig Devon—the tall, blond, muscular Mr. Gorgeous she had once loved—was down there with her family. The family he knew so much about because she had told him so much about them, while he’d told her nothing about himself.
    Because, despite his boy-next-door looks, he was nothing but a criminal.
    How had he gone from being a man filled with promise to what he was now? As she stared down at him, her nausea threatened to spill over. She remembered reading about a rash of heists conducted by thieves who hit small jewelry and antique shops throughout the Northeast, mainly in rural areas and mostly at night. And Hudson’s, she thought now, was so close to this house. Police had warned that the thieves might be armed and very dangerous. One article had said police were searching for the killer or killers of a night watchman at a bank, who had been found dead near one of the jewelry stores, although they felt it was an unrelated incident. But what if it had been related after all?
    If these men had killed before, they would certainly be willing to kill again.
    If…
    Maybe they hadn’t killed the night watchman.
    Right. There was a heist, and there was a dead man, but some passing maniac had done it.
    That had been in New Hampshire. Live free or die. Apparently they had taken the state motto to heart.
    She shifted slightly, gritting her teeth, and tried hard to remember any other details. As she moved, she felt her worthless phone