Chapter 22: Ghosts Don't Knock
Holiday Lights December crept in one house at a time. The kids wanted to put up Christmas lights the weekend after Thanksgiving. Craig meticulously untangled strands of lights like a man who had been dared to solve a Rubik’s Cube. “I think these were stored by raccoons.” Middle child snorted. “No…” Youngest smirked. “It was probably Dad.” Guffaws erupted. Including Becca. The easy kind. The kind she didn’t have to force out. At The Market The town held its annual Christmas market on the first Saturday in December. Main Street was blocked off. Artisans parked tables on the sidewalks selling handmade ornaments, candles, knit scarves, and sweets. The bakery had a booth near the courthouse square. Linda wanted them there. “We’ll sell out before noon.” She was right. By ten
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