The Fine Line…

Henry Jenkinson, Corporate Attorney on the cusp of being made a Partner, was wavering between heartbreak and worry.

Three days with not a word, Henry being on the verge of calling a wellness check... then out of the blue - BAM! Heartbreak was currently winning, what with the break-up text from his fiance - former fiance? Did it count if he hadn't texted back yet? - staring up at him from his phone screen.

It didn't feel right.

Not just in the way that any break up didn't feel right, with that mix of confusion and hurt and grief and asking where you went wrong. A break-up text was wildly out of character for Kate, and she avoided going back to her hometown if she could find the slightest excuse! It didn't feel right because it made no sense!

Everything had been fine, before Kate left. They'd giggled their way through the Saints (stuck-up bores) and Sinners (unruly drunks) tables for the wedding reception, and bet a week of dishes on whose relatives would throw the first punch, only the night before Kate flew out. She'd only planned to be gone for Halloween and Thanksgiving, and only agreed to stay that long so that her sisters wouldn't start another family feud over which one of them hosted.

If she'd intended to stay longer, surely she would have given notice? If she'd really felt so unsatisfied, why hadn't she said something?

Sure, they were well-off now, but that hadn't always been the case. They'd spent years pinching pennies on a shoestring budget, working their way through University and up the corporate ladder. Kate wasn't the sort to stay quiet in the hopes of sparing someone's feelings. Especially not with thousands of dollars in non-refundable deposits on the line.

If Kate had been planning to kick him to the curb, she would have done so before the Wedding Venue's free cancellation deadline.

Then there was the break-up text itself.

Staring at the nearly empty measuring jug of Sangria - Henry hadn't been about to mix a full gallon in the good Crystal when he was drinking alone - Henry weighed up a late-night run for more fruit, against switching to Gin or Whiskey. Reluctantly, he decided against either. Drowning his sorrows would have to wait until Friday, when he finally closed the deal that had dragged on two weeks longer than it should have.

Steeling himself, he picked up his phone again, reading the text for the thousandth time.

"Salutations,

Having reviewed our interactions over the past months, I have come to the conclusion that out partnership is unsatisfying, and should be terminated immediately. Henceforth and forthwith, do not contact me again.

Respectfully,

Katherine Smith"

Kate didn't speak like that. Not unless she was dictating a letter to be sent to some well-deserving corrupt entity that their law firm was about to take to the cleaners! She certainly didn't text like that! Kate wouldn't have left off a proper two-word closing, either, especially not since she'd worked out how to export her email signature to text messages.

Outside of professional settings, Kate spoke, wrote and texted as informally as possible. Heck, her text to invite him to their proposal dinner had been a string of emojis as incomprehensible as any cipher! He'd had to look some of them up!

Henry had actually proposed on February 5th, over a week before, but then their favourite restaurant had offered a Valentines special for couples who got engaged, so they'd staged a big production for free desert and a meal voucher.

It was as if someone who didn't know Kate, and had only a passing familiarity with how lawyers acted outside of a courtroom, had written the text. Except that Kate's phone had a biometric lock and fingerprint recognition to stop that exact thing from happening. So no one but Kate could have sent the text, but Kate never would have sent it.

None of it made sense, but there was no other interpretation that made sense, either!

It was the kind of text Kate might send if she was in trouble, and wanted to set off every warning siren his brain had, while making whoever was threatening her think she was complying with their instructions.

But Kate's family lived in one of those middle-of-nowhere country towns with a single general store and half a dozen Houses of Worship. Crime was low, even if employment tended to be seasonal if you weren't your own boss or working remotely. One of those places that seemed to still be cosplaying the 50s; as if technology had moved on, but the people hadn't.

Kate was related to half the town by blood, and the other half by marriage, if you went back a generation or two. There should have been no-where that she was safer!

The ringing of his phone sent Henry scrambling to answer it, nearly tripping over the coffee table to do so. A brief fumble, and he got to it just in time. "Hello?"

It wasn't Kate, but the client that was the reason he hadn't been able to accompany Kate on this trip. Normally, Mr Banks was good at respecting office hours, so it must be important. "Mr Banks, has something happened?"

Keeping his voice professional was harder after heartbreak and a jug of alcohol. He tucked the phone between his ear and his shoulder, opening up his work laptop. Mr Troy Banks sounded stressed. "Hi, I'm very sorry to do this to you, but is there any way we can move up our meeting? I've got an emergency that is going to require travel."

Henry quickly reviewed the facts of the case. An agricultural land dispute between Mr Banks's company, a bio-engineering start-up trying to create drought-resistant crops, and a Christmas Tree farm trying to lay claim to one of the company's fallow fields. The location was just north of Kate's hometown.

Henry tapped a few keys, pulling up the current comms. "We have a date with a judge next month, but the Christmas Farm is being slow on communication. What's the emergency?"

There was the sound of movement on the other end of the line, as though Mr Banks was pacing. "One of our researches has gone missing, as has the assistant I sent to see about the land survey that they claimed to have but refuse to provide in Discovery."

That... didn't bode well for Kate, and strengthened the argument about the "break-up" being a cry for help. "I'll send an email to the court clerk and request to add further charges of employee harassment and intimidation. I can't add kidnapping without proof, though. My Paralegal is also missing in the same location."

He and Kate kept their relationship quiet at work. There were no policies against it, as long as it didn't affect their ability to do their jobs, and neither of them considered it any of the clients' business.

Mr Banks heaved a sigh of relief. "I'll look up the next available flights. I'd be happy to cover yours as a work expense."

Henry considered it a moment. He could make a reasonable argument for it being an investigation expense, covered by the client under their standard retainer contract, but also easy for their opponent to argue a conflict of interest. "Better not, especially if it is connected and they try to get the case thrown out on technicalities. I can bill you later, depending."

Henry met Mr Banks at the airport, at a profoundly unreasonable hour the next morning. The additional cost of flying Business was worth it for the expedited check-in, and the additional recline meant that he might actually get to sleep during the flight.

Queuing up for the security check, Henry suddenly stopped upon seeing a familiar face. "Is that...?"

It was Thom, one of the Court Clerks he'd interacted with a lot. Tall, broad and built like a wrestler, he was the clerk that got delegated to cases where clients were expected to be difficult and might need a bit of looming. But he'd specifically mentioned that he didn't have holiday plans. What was he doing here?

Troy - who had insisted that it was too early to be called Mr Banks - stopped Henry before he could rush forward. "Cutting in line is a jerk move. We can catch up to him on the other side."

Thom met them in the flight lounge, looking rather more strained than the early hour really warrented. "Please tell me you two aren't going for the same hole-in-the-dirt hick town as I am for the same reason I am."

He didn't sound particularly hopeful. Henry didn't know whether that was good or bad. "Well, our reasons involve disappearances and incredibly suspect messages before a loss of communication..."

Troy thoughtfully moved Thom's overpriced and far-too-complicated coffee out of the way before the man could thump his head on the benchtop. "That damn Christmas farm insisted that their documents were too delicate to be sent by post, so the Judge sent someone to collect or review the documents personally."

Henry groaned. "Don't tell me..."

Thom nodded as much as he could with his face pressed against the polished wood. "They didn't come back, just sent a message about meeting their true love and the meaning of Christmas and that they'd be sending movers for their things."

They'd sent that kind of message to a Judge? Henry was a little surprised that Thom had been sent, and not a squad of Court Officers! Thom must have caught his expression. "The person the Judge sent was their grand-daughter, a Court Courier, who should have been more than capable of taking care of herself. You've met Judge Michaels."

Troy and Henry both nodded. Judge Sophia Michaels was one of the old-school judges; fair if it killed her, and hyper-vigilant against any appearance of bias. She'd send Thom to investigate, because even if it was personal, she wouldn't be seen to mis-use court resources.

Henry rubbed his eyes, wishing for something stronger than the cup of tea he'd settled on. "That's three missing women, all connected to the Christmas Tree Farm, all vanishing after a single out-of-character message."

Troy - Mr Banks, with how stern he looked - nodded. "Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three is a conspiracy. We go in expecting trouble, because I'm well past benign explanations at this point."

The town was like something out of a Christmas movie.

Men in flannel and parkas, women in warm coats, children playing in the snow, lights on every single house and a tree on every corner. Everyone smiling and taking advantage of mistletoe garlands strung everywhere. Questions about Kate, and the missing researcher, and the absent Courier were met with "Oh, yes, I saw them the other day. Young love is so nice, isn't it?"

Henry found it highly suspicious, and creepy as all get out.

Even at Christmas, you had your Scrooges who were thoroughly sick of the whole spectacle, or people going through personal tragedy, or who celebrated alternate Holidays like Kwanza or Hanukkah, or who had jobs that didn't get the day off, like First Responders.

Kate had introduced him around, the one time Henry had come with her to visit, and at least a quarter of the town had received invitations to their wedding not a month ago! It was a bit rich that they were apparently cheering on Blatant Infidelity! (Not that Henry believed it for a second, but if he had, it would still be bad form for them to say it to his face)

Walking out to the Christmas Tree Farm got better results. Thom just had to pull himself up to his full height, fold his arms, and stare down at the probably-underpaid teen working the cash register, and the poor kid folded like wet spaghetti. "In the Basement. I'm sick of having them try to murder me every time I bring down food and water, anyway."

That sounded a lot more like Kate. Thom loomed some more. "Any reason you didn't report the kidnappings?"

The kid shrugged. "Sherriff said he was handling it, and to keep my nose clean. Do you know how hard it is to find non-seasonal work in a town like this? I wasn't supposed to bring them food, either, just enough water to keep them alive until the Bosses could dump them in a snowdrift and make it look accidental, but Murder is a step too far for me."

Henry hadn't had "Corruption by an Elected Official" or "Conspiracy to Murder" on his Bingo Card this year, but he would take it. "If you're willing to testify, we can have you relocated for your safety."

The kid hesitated, "What about my siblings? Mum died three months ago, and I'm the only one over 18. If I can't prove I can support us, they all go into the system, and the nearest group home is three counties away."

That put a different slant on the kid's desperation to keep any job he could get. Mr Banks put a hand on his shoulder. "Come work for me, instead. I pay above minimum wage, and I always have space for people with integrity who are willing to put in a hard day's work."

The Kid nodded, and Thom walked over to the door marked Basement. "You won't be held responsible for property damage, will you?"

They shook their head. "Boss says the brawls over the best trees are good for business, and any damage is a tax write-off. One of the Accountants tried to explain it, once, but it's all a bit over my head."

Oh, goody! Henry could add Tax Fraud and kick this up to the IRS if he had to. Thom grinned, leaned back, and kicked the Basement door in. "Look out below!"

There was a crash, and a lot of swearing, followed by a blessedly familiar voice. "Down here! I'm being held very much without my consent!"

Henry shoved past Thom and bolted down the stairs, moving just slowly enough that he didn't trip and become a statistic. "Kate!"

He leaped over the groaning form under the wrecked door. Kate was tied to a chair, along with two other women, all of them looking extremely annoyed. "Can Meg, Beth and I claim self-defense if we stomp that smug little worm into the concrete?"

Henry untied her. "Not unless he makes the first move, and kidnapping you regrettably doesn't count."

The Courier was next. "What about making us listen to his Andrew Tate monologue about how we're wasted as Corporate Slaves, and he's done us a favour by returning us to our roots and being so generous as to let us share him? I heard less misogyny on my Tour of the Middle East!"

Thom helped her to her feet as renewed circulation made her stagger. "Still not self-defense, unfortunately, Beth."

That would make the researcher Meg, then. The kidnapper staggered to his feet. "I am the God of Christmas! I am owed worship and deference! You -"

Kate's fist cut him off with a solid right hook. "You'd think a God would know when to shut the hell up... and be harder to knock out."

Henry grinned at her, and leaned in for a kiss. "So, since the local Sherriff is already implicated, what do you propose we do with him?"

Meg was carefully stretching. "Boil him with his own pudding, and bury him with a stake of holly through his heart?"

Kate laughed. "Pre-Transformation Scrooge is not a route we want to go down, but I grew up here, and there are plenty of non-corrupt Law Enforcement the next county over."

And ones who would look the other way while angry family members provided a friendly beating, perhaps? Henry pulled out his phone. "Do you need to call your family?"

Kate scowled. "Not until after he's safely in handcuffs. At least one of them was in on it, something about me having had my youthful fun and it being time to come home where I belong. Lovely reminder of why I was so happy to get the hell out of here the first time around..."

Henry could only hug her sympathetically. Family was tough. "Well, the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb, and it's not like they're your only family."

She smiled, and leaned against him gratefully. "Too damn right. Let's go home and figure out who's getting disinvited from the wedding with prejudice."