1225 Christmas Tree Lane

“We should’ve gotten the Hardings’ phone number,” Ned commented from the backseat.

That was obvious. “You might’ve mentioned it at the time,” Linc snapped. They’d been driving around for almost an hour and he had no idea where they were. Mack McAfee had drawn them a map but it hadn’t helped; somehow they’d gone in the wrong direction and were now completely and utterly lost.

To further complicate matters, a fog had settled in over the area. It seemed they’d run the gamut of Pacific Northwest winter weather, and all within the last eight hours. There’d been sleet and snow, rain and cold. Currently they were driving through a fog so thick he could hardly see the road.

“Read me the directions again,” he said.

Mel flipped on the interior light, which nearly blinded Linc. “Hey, turn that off!”

“I thought you wanted me to read these notes.”

“You don’t need the light,” Ned told him. “I’ve got them memorized.”

“So where are we?” Mel asked.

“You’re asking me?” Linc muttered in frustration.

“Okay, okay.” Mel sighed deeply. “Fighting isn’t going to help us find Mary Jo.”

“You’re right.” Linc pulled over to the side of the road and shifted to face his brothers. “Either of you have any other ideas?”

“We could go to the firehouse and start over,” Mel said.

“Once we’re there, we could get the Hardings’ phone number,” Ned added. “We could call and let Mary Jo know we’re on our way.”

Linc gritted his teeth. “Fine. But have either of you geniuses figured out how to get back to the firehouse?”

“Ah…” Mel glanced at Ned, who shrugged his shoulders.

“I guess we can’t do that because we’re lost.”

“Exactly,” Linc said. “Any other ideas?” He was feeling more helpless and frustrated by the second.

“We could always ask someone,” Ned suggested next.

“Who are we supposed to ask?” Mel cried. “We haven’t seen another car in over half an hour.”

“There was a place down this road,” Ned said in a tentative voice.

Linc stared at him. “Where?”

“You’re sure about that?” Mel didn’t seem to believe him, and Linc wasn’t convinced, either.

“It’s there, trust me.” Ned’s expression, however, did little to inspire Linc’s confidence.

“I remember the name,” his youngest brother said indignantly. “It was called King’s.”

“What kind of place was it?”

Ned apparently needed time to consider this.

“A tavern?” Linc asked.

Ned shook his head.

“A gas-and-go?” Mel offered.

“Could’ve been. There were a bunch of broken-down cars out front.”

Linc didn’t recall any such place. “How come I didn’t see it?” he asked.

“’Cause you were driving.”

That actually made sense. Concentrating on maneuvering down these back roads in the fog, it was all he could do to make sure his truck didn’t end up in a ditch.

“I think I saw it, too,” Mel said a moment later. “The building’s set off the road, isn’t it?”

Ned perked up. “Yes!”

“With tires edging the driveway?”

“That’s the one!”

“Do we have a prayer of finding it again?” Linc asked his brothers.

Ned and Mel exchanged looks. “I think so,” Ned told him.

“Good.” Linc put the pickup back in gear. “Which way?”

“Turn around,” Ned told him.

Linc started down the road, then thought to ask, “Are you sure this King’s place is open?”

“Looked like it to me.”

“Yeah,” Mel concurred. “There were plenty of lights. Not Christmas lights, though. Regular lights.”

Linc drove in silence for several minutes. Both his brothers were focused on finding this joint. Just when the