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Editor's note: Everybody can use a break around the holidays. So, we bring you this fictional series every day from now through Dec. 24. We hope you enjoy "The Holly Wreath Man" - and your holidays.

The story will be updated with new chapters as they are published in The Patriot Ledger. So check back each day for more.

Chapter 1: Missing
Chapter 2: Found and lost
Chapter 3: Homecoming
Chapter 4: Snowed in
Chapter 5: The show starts
Chapter 6: The thief
Chapter 7: Proposal
Chapter 8: Betrayal
Chapter 9: An honest man
Chapter 10: Last chance
Chapter 11: Dirt poor
Chapter 12: The country code
Chapter 13: Pop's secret
Chapter 14: Gotcha!
Chapter 15: Fallout
Chapter 16: Making the case
Chapter 17: Making amends
Chapter 18: A hot tip
Chapter 19: Shutdown
Chapter 20: Pop's gift
Chapter 21: Turner's gift
Chapter 22: Tennyson's gift
Chapter 23: Allie's choice
Chapter 24: A dream come true
Chapter 25: The Holly Wreath Man

Chapter 1: Missing

Jeff Henderson's life was full, too full. And at the moment, it was full of trouble. Stacks of computer printouts covered every inch of his desk. It would take another two days of numbercrunching to finish the marketing report.

It was due tomorrow morning. He put up his "Rabid Dog: Do Not Enter" sign, shut the office door, and hunkered down in front of the computer.

When the door opened a crack, and a hand waving a white hankie reached in, he had to smile.

"What is it, Cheryl?" "Sorry," his assistant winced. "It's your wife. She said it's an emergency."

Jeff felt his heart race. Maybe Rachel wanted him back? He took a deep breath and picked up the phone.

"Hey," he said. "What's up?" "The kids aren't with you, are they?" There was panic in Rachel's voice.

"What?" he said. "Of course not."

"Well, they didn't come home from school. The bus drove by without even stopping. I figured they missed it again. But when they didn't call ..." She caught her breath.

"Now wait a sec. What about band practice?" "That's Monday, Jeff."

He clenched the receiver. Forgetting the kids' schedules had been one of Rachel's major complaints to their marriage counselor.

Jeff knew what Rachel wanted from him, but an invisible chain bound him to his desk. "Have you called their friends?" "Of course. No one has seen them. I've called the police."

"What?" "You have to come home, Jeff. Now."

He saved the computer file and grabbed his coat.

"I'll be back," he told Cheryl. "Can you print out what's on my screen?" "Is everything OK?" "Sure."

"Do you want me to ask Susan to finish the report?" Susan was the newest member of the marketing research team, a bright, young MBA, eager to pitch in, and, Jeff feared, claim his turf.

"No, no. I won't be long."

On the Interstate, speeding toward his house, it struck him: Rachel had said "home." Ever since he had moved into a furnished studio apartment, Jeff always knocked on the front door when he picked up the kids. But today he let himself in with his key. From the living room, he heard Rachel call, "We're in here."

"I was just telling your wife I wouldn't be too worried," the police officer said. "Nine times out of 10, kids are off at the mall, or at a friend's house."

"They're only 10 and 12," Rachel said.

"They're skipping school younger and younger, ma'am. Even the good ones," the officer said. "Let's see, what about family problems? Any, uh, issues between you two?" "We separated this summer," Rachel said.

Jeff glanced at Rachel's left hand. When had she stopped wearing her wedding band? "Will and Katie seem fine about it," he said.

The cop looked at Rachel. "They weren't happy about Thanksgiving," she said.

"I was going to take the kids to my mother's farm," Jeff told the officer. "Something came up at work."

"They were very excited about the trip," Rachel said.

"I had a deadline," Jeff said. "They understood."

"They were very disappointed," Rachel countered. "Especially Will."

"Come on, that's not fair," Jeff said, looking Rachel in the eye for the first time. "Will told me himself he thought he'd be bored out of his mind."

"What do you think he's going to say, Jeff? He was crushed."

"Could they have gone there?" the officer asked. Jeff shook his head. "Just a minute," Rachel said, and walked out of the room.

"Where does your mother live, Mr. Henderson?" "Tennyson," Jeff said. "It's a small town, about five hours west of the city. No, it's too far." He looked at his watch: He was running out of time.

"Jeff!" Rachel stood at the top of the stairs, holding the piggy bank they had given Will last Christmas.

"It's empty," she said.

CHAPTER 2: FOUND AND LOST

 



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