A Damsel for Santa Page 4

  I felt the spot she'd indicated. The gentle pressure stung, but in a good way. Now that I thought about it, there were more places that itched. It was probably from sweating so much in this stupid suit.

  "Thanks," I said. I should change and the sooner I ditched this woman, the better. I rubbed my neck one last time with my fingers, then stuffed my hands in my coat pockets. "Why do you say Miller has been acting weird?"

  "He's been avoiding Brooke like the plague. It started a few days ago. He can't get away from her fast enough. He hasn't gone near her in maybe three days. You didn't notice during the scene where they're supposed to be standing next to each other?"

  "I didn't realize it was personal. I just assumed it was part of the play. I thought he was just ignoring her."

  "Not at all. Miller is Jack Frost's assistant and Brooke was the babysitter. In the original scene, the assistant was supposed to bribe the babysitter into looking the other way while Jack tricked Holly into coming to stay with him."

  "Holly explained that part to me before."

  "Well, with the rewrite, Jack had to bribe Brooke himself."

  Chance had mentioned a rewrite, too. "So, when was the original script changed?"

  "Three days ago. That's why the first director quit and your buddy Chance took over."

  "Chance wasn't the director before?"

  "He's an also-ran, just like you. He was the producer, the money guy. Sorry, Santa, but you guys are the second string. Hey, you really need something for that rash. Let's get you out of the suit, big guy."

  "No!" I pulled back. There were so many reasons I didn't want this woman's help undressing. I was wearing Christmas boxers. Didn't want comparisons made to Scrooge and his buffness. Most of all, I didn't know which Wendy would be "helping."

  "Don't worry, Santa. I'm not going to jump you."

  "I'm fine. Some little bug must have gotten me. Did I hear correctly that Holly's stage mother is also her real mother?"

  "Yes, she is." It was Holly. Her voice was meek, almost fearful. "Santa? Are you okay?"

  How long had she been listening to us?

  Wendy winked at me, then donned her green cap again. She angled one knee and posed as though she were filming a fashion commercial. "How do I look?"

  "Like Wendy the Elf," I said.

  She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "I'll let you and the kid sort this out. Don't say I didn't try to help." She turned and left me looking into the eyes of a scared nine-year-old girl.

  7

  SANTA'S HELPER

  I knelt next to Holly and pulled her into an embrace. Through the bulky red sleeves of the Santa suit, her body felt like a vague mass. I eased the girl away and gazed into her eyes, hoping to understand what was going on inside her head. "What's up, sweetheart? You look...scared."

  "She's a naughty elf."

  "Wendy? She's a…she's a disturbed elf. Why aren't you back with your mother? She's with the others, isn't she?"

  "Chance asked me to check on you and her." Holly's eyes cut to the spot where Wendy had been standing. "I don't like her. She's not very nice for someone who runs a shelter. She probably only does it for the money."

  "You must be confusing her with Brooke. She's the one who owned the shelter."

  Holly searched my face for a moment, then asked, "How come you don't know this stuff?" She pursed her lips as she held my gaze. When I didn't answer, she said, "She works for Brooke and Miller."

  I pulled away and examined her face, not quite sure what I expected to find. "You're sure about this?"

  "Hello? All these people know each other."

  Was that a kid exaggeration again? Or the truth? But, even if she was blowing things out of proportion, it had to be based on some sort of fact. Right? I nudged her shoulder. "Come on, tell Santa."

  The snideness from a moment ago melted away as she talked. "You already know about the Miller, Brooke, and Wendy triangle. Nicky, Miller, and Kass like to hang out and get stoned. Jack Frost and Scrooge knew each other from before, and Scrooge is boinking Mrs. Claus."

  I nearly choked. No way. The kid had to have it wrong. They were… No. Way. "Wait, wait, kid. Slow down. How can you be so sure?"

  Holly sighed. "You sure don't know much for Santa Claus. How many murders have you solved?"

  I winced. Not a question I wanted to address with a kid. "What's that got to do with anything?"

  "This stuff is, like, so obvious."

  I snickered at the way she'd dragged our her response, turning six little words into a melodramatic statement of universal knowledge. She was definitely a child star and her zeal to embellish gave me one more reason to suspect this was more theatrics than the state of actual cast dynamics. "Let's just say I've solved more murders than I'd like. Look, I've got work to do and the over-friendly elf has returned to the others. We should get you back to your mom."

  "I want to stay with you." She brightened. "I can be your helper. Santa needs a helper, yah?"

  "Sweetheart, this isn't like delivering toys. This is serious business."

  She pulled her hair back and to the side. Her pout deepened as she shrank away. It was like she was withdrawing into herself. "I'm not a little kid. I'm just scared of the unknown."

  "I don't understand."

  "That's why I'm scared of the dark. The unknown. If I'm stuck back there with all those adults, they won't talk to me. Even my mom ignores me when she's around them. I want to stay here because you're nice. You talk to me. Please, Santa?"

  I watched her face for a moment. So innocent. So inquisitive. So many ways this could go wrong. "Tell you what, kid, you can hang around for a while, but when I say it's time for you to go, there's no argument. Got it?"

  Her gray eyes held mine for a long moment, then a smile lit up her face. "I'm good with that, Santa. Where do we start?"

  We? I groaned. There was no "we" in this venture and I wasn't Santa. But, why argue semantics? Besides, Holly was like a playful lion cub. Fierce, strong, and full of life. I doubted if I could keep her away, so why not use her insight? Let her do the footwork, too. "Alright, you're hired as my Temporary Assistant Elf Investigator. Which means you have to follow directions. Bad elves get canned."

  Barely a heartbeat passed before she asked, "Do I get a badge?" Her eyes lit up and the smile returned.

  "Santa says, no badge, kid."

  "I just thought it would be fun. I'll be good."

  If only I could believe that. "You've known these people for a while, right?"

  "I can tell you all about them." She took my hand and led me to a nearby chair, then motioned for me to sit.

  Sitting put us at eye level, which seemed to calm Holly. I said, "Let's start with Scrooge. You heard what Wendy said—what's your take on him?"

  "He's perfect for the role."

  I held her gaze, waiting for her to elaborate. She didn't. "Um, Holly, when you're being questioned and the investigator doesn't say anything, you're supposed to fill the gap. It's called a pregnant pause. So, would you care to elaborate on Scrooge, Assistant Elf Investigator Holly?"

  "Is that like a guilt thing?"

  "Is what a guilt thing?"

  "The pregnancy test."

  "It's not a—it's called a pregnant pause. It has nothing to do with babies."

  She huffed. "Good. You had me scared for a minute. I thought maybe my mom was lying to me."

  "About?" Wait a minute. How had she done it to me again?

  "How girls have babies, silly. I only found out there's not a real Santa last year. Mom always hid the big presents to make sure I believed. I felt stupid when I found out."

  "Ahem, look, kid, we have to keep on track. This is an investigation. So, when I ask a question, you can't be distracting me."

  "Sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just, I've never been Santa's helper before. Am I your first Assistant Elf Investigator?"

  "Are you my...yes, you are...do you have ADHD or something?"

  Her eyes widened. "Is that part of the
pregnancy test?"

  "Okay, let's start over. This is an investigation. You're supposed to be making things easier. That means you answer my questions truthfully and accurately. No detours. No medical exams. Got it?"

  "Got it, Santa. Can I ask you one question first?"

  I sighed. "Sure, kid. Go ahead."

  "What's ADHD?"

  I closed my eyes and counted to ten. When I opened them, Holly was watching me. Her chin was all scrunched up and her worry-face had returned.

  She gulped, and asked, "Am I in trouble? Was that the pregnancy pause again?"

  "No, kid, that was Santa counting presents. Forget about ADHD. Forget about the medical tests. You just tell me about this Scrooge character. Why is he…what did you call him?"

  "Maybe you have ADHD."

  She gave me an infectious smile. "Okay, kid. Maybe I do, but you're not making this easy. Just answer the question, okay?"

  "He's a stupid know-it-all because he says dumb things. He acts all smart and talks really fast. Kinda like he reads lots of books. But, he messes up all the time and says things that are wrong. He knows all about boats because he lives on one."

  I stood and had Holly take my seat. "I want you to stay there. I'm going to have Chance send Scrooge down here. Do you have something to write on?"

  "Sure." Holly beamed at me. "I'll get my journal. It's in my backpack." She was up and gone before I could stop her.

  The kid kept a journal? Who would've seen that one coming? Or a guy in a red suit trying to solve a murder with the help of a nine-year-old. While Holly was gone, I went to the stage and called to the back of the theater. "Chance, can you hear me?"

  He waved. "I was starting to get worried. What's up, McKenna?"

  "Send Scrooge down here. I want to talk to him next."

  Chance glanced at Scrooge, who stood and grumbled to the person next to him—Nicky Simenon. Holly hadn't mentioned that particular relationship. Was this something my helper had just overlooked, or were there more secrets and lies?

  8

  SCROOGE

  With the exception of his white collar, Scrooge was dressed entirely in black. From his top hat to his shoes, with the black coat and pants in the middle, his costume screamed "authentic"—except for that ridiculous excuse for a staff. I could see why Chance chewed him out for the pool cue. It looked like a leftover from another play.

  I didn't know what our Scrooge looked like in real life, but if he was the hunk Wendy had described him as, he hid it well. Long gray hair fell to his shoulders, his face was lined with wrinkles, and he wore wire-rimmed spectacles. Yessir, our Scrooge had the role nailed, right down to the bent posture and creaky voice.

  At the base of the stairs, however, he dropped the persona and stood tall and proud. There was a sudden arrogance about him; he looked like a man used to having his word taken as gospel. Maybe Holly had pegged him correctly. I didn't know yet, but intended to find out soon enough. He climbed the steps to the stage and stood before me.

  "Great make-up job Kass did on you," I said.

  His cheek twitched. "She's an expert. You have questions. Let's get this done." His attention shifted to one side, then shot back to me. "What's she doing here?"

  I turned and saw Holly had returned to her seat. She had a notepad on her lap. "She's my assistant."

  "Whatever," he sneered.

  No doubt about it, this was going to one of those interviews in which it would be hard to keep my temper. I already had a strong dislike for this jerk; so this was going to take some extra Santa-patience. "Where were you during the outage?"

  "Standing next to Arlene and behind Miller. Anything else?"

  My jaw tightened at his blatant egotism. It was the Naughty List for this little boy, and that earned him an extra question or two. Oh, how I wanted to crank up the heat on him. "You were the first one to turn on a light, but you turned it off almost immediately. Why? And what light did you use?"

  He grimaced. "I don't see what…"

  "It was his cell phone," Holly said. "He keeps it in his left front pocket. Chance told all of us to leave our phones in the dressing room, but nobody does."

  Scrooge bent over and glared at the girl. "Santa's gonna bring you a lump of coal, squealer."

  I jabbed him in the shoulder. "Hey, Santa says she's just doing her job. Back off."

  "Like I said. What. Ever. You two are a joke."

  "Suit yourself." I shrugged and spoke casually to Holly over my shoulder. "Make a note to tell Detective Ho about Mr. Scrooge. Say he was an uncooperative witness and may require Deep Interrogation."

  She muttered a soft, "Sounds bad." Her face screwed up into twelve shades of worry as she scribbled on her notepad.

  "They don't call him Gung Ho for nothing," I snickered. "He gets carried away sometimes." I hooked my thumb offstage. "You can leave now."

  "You're going to tell the cops I was uncooperative? And what's this 'deep interrogation?'"

  "Oh, that." I grimaced and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Internal Affairs doesn't like us talking about it. Controversial procedures and all that." Did HPD even have an IA department? I had no clue, but he looked worried, so I continued. "Most civilians don't…um…they don't appreciate… the…um…effectiveness."

  I removed my hand from his shoulder. Shrugged. Rotated my wrist and hand in little circles as though dismissing his question. "You'll know what it is when it happens." I nodded and winced. "Believe me, you'll know."

  The guy's face drained of all color. He looked like he might faint. "What if…what if I answer your questions? Gimme another chance. Okay, Santa?"

  Well, snap, maybe I did have a little Christmas magic going on. Scrooge had knuckled under to the red suit. And a big fat lie. I felt a surge of power. Now maybe I could get some straight answers. I hoped. I eyed Scrooge for a moment while gently rubbing the itchy spot on my neck.

  "You're going to tell me the truth?" I asked.

  "Yes, Santa. Absolutely. What do you want to know?"

  "Okay, did you see the body when you turned on your phone's flashlight?"

  "How could I not have seen it? Brooke was just laying there with Arlene on top of her."

  "And when it was dark, what's your version of what happened?"

  "She screamed." He pointed at Holly. "I heard Arlene running and then there was a big thud."

  "How do you know it was Arlene's footsteps you heard?"

  "Kass gave her those real clacky heels to wear. It was like listening to a horse prancing on concrete."

  I gazed at him for a minute. Well, jingle my bells, I believed he was finally being straight with me.

  "My mom wasn't the only one. Brooke wore tap shoes," Holly said, her voice, insistent.

  "Is that true?" I fixed Scrooge with an angry stare.

  He sighed before answering. "Yeah. I guess. I forgot."

  Now he was avoiding my gaze. He'd been caught in a lie and he knew it. "So it could have been Brooke you heard, not Arlene. But, you said you saw Arlene on top of Brooke's body."

  "Yeah, that's the truth. She was sprawled out like she fell down or something."

  "Who else was around?"

  "Helper. Tsuyoshi Helper. You know, Jack Frost. He was standing just a couple of feet from where Brooke's body was."

  Where her body was? What did he mean by that? "Are you telling me someone moved Brooke's body while we were in the dark?"

  He shook his head. "I'm not really sure. But, Jack Frost's mark was there. He'd know for sure."

  Time to let this one off the hook, but keep the ruse alive. I'd bet anything he'd scurry back with news about Detective Ho. "Good job, Mr. Scrooge. I'll let the detective know you were quite helpful. Have Chance send down Jack Frost."

  "Okay. Uh…Santa. Thanks for…well, I get kind of difficult sometimes. I'm sorry."

  What was he? Four? Next thing you know he'd want to sit on my knee. He started to turn away, but I gripped his arm. "And by the way, you know enough to keep that whole…Deep Inter
rogation thing…quiet, right?

  His jaw dropped and he licked his lips. "Sure…sure." He hurried off the stage and to the back of the theater.

  Holly was staring at me with new admiration in her eyes. "Wow. You really do work with the cops? That's so cool."

  I made sure there was nobody else around and winked at her. How was I going to answer that one?

  9

  JACK FROST

  "There's no Detective Ho," I said. "He doesn't exist. He's a character from my days of watching the original Hawai‘i Five-0 series. That's just between you and me. We're keeping it under our Santa caps, yah?"

  Holly saluted, a bright smile on her face. "Yessir. Santa, sir."

  I returned her salute, albeit half-heartedly, and sighed into my fluffy beard. At least the thing was good for something other than making my face itch. I scratched beneath it, but Holly clucked and shook her head.

  "No messing with the makeup, Santa."

  "My face feels like it's on fire."

  "It's a nice, rosy glow."

  I gritted my teeth. Right. Whatever was going on with this suit, it was becoming more and more of a distraction.

  Holly's firm nod and infectious smile didn't make things any easier. She cocked her chin up, and her gaze slid over to a spot behind me. I followed her signal and turned. There was Jack Frost in his form-fitting black sweatshirt and tights. Kass had added a blue, flowered neckpiece to the costume.

  Great. I'd faced Scrooge. Now, this guy. "Thanks for coming down, Jack. Can I call you Jack?"

  "I am a professional actor." He stood ramrod straight and projected as though speaking to a full house. "While in character, I answer to one designation only. You may call me Jack Frost. Mr. Frost, if you prefer."

  "Got it. Jack works for me." Besides, it was a lot easier than stumbling over his Japanese name or his oxymoronic last name. I doubted if this guy had any intention of being helpful at all. "Before we get into talking about the murder, tell me about your background. You know, who you are in real life."