Crimes Most Merry and Albright

by Larissa Reinhart

  HG looked away. "After you sign some waivers."

  "What kind of waivers?"

  "That any result in your untimely deaths would not reflect on my company or the Supreme Commander in any way."

  I glanced at Nash. His eyes tightened and the scar on his chin seemed to pulse. With renewed vigor, he worked his wrists and shoulders, trying to loosen the binds.

  JJ looked up from her monitor. Mascara was smudged beneath her eyes like she'd been crying. "You're on in ten."

  New plan. I glanced around the room, homed in on the great fireplace, and decided to work from my old plan. I strode to the hearth. "I'll just wait for my cue here."

  "Excellent," said HG, pacing to the table.

  I reached for the fireplace remote I'd hidden behind the Elf on the Shelf that sat on the mantle. I pressed the start button. The gas whooshed on, followed by the whump of ignition. Flames flickered, then leaped as I increased the volume of the gas.

  “What are you doing?” barked HG.

  "Just warming up. I'm in a bra and shorts."

  “Did you open the flue?” said Remi.

  "Nine minutes to live feed," said JJ. "Get on your mark, HG."

  As HG turned back to the set, I yanked off my necklace and bandolier. "Hey HG," I called. “I’m going to blow up your trophies.”

  He spun around. Red mottled his pasty complexion.

  I dangled the necklace and bandolier over the grate and grinned.

  "Are their lives worth nothing to you?" HG narrowed his eyes and snapped his fingers. “Don't think you can escape from here."

  Grant unclipped his holster and pulled out a pistol.

  “That depends on how reasonable you’re willing to be. All I want is for Remi and Nash to leave. Alone. Unharmed. Then I’ll do your little publicity stunt.”

  “And what if I refuse? I can shoot you and still force you to act.”

  I dipped the necklace close to the grate. “Then your Supreme Commander has no prize. You just get me in a sports bra and uncomfortably tight shorts. Sporting bullet holes. Which looks a little like the violence you claim the Supreme Commander will be ending.”

  A safety clicked. Brian pointed his gun at Remi.

  "You shoot them and I'm jumping in this fireplace," I snarled. "I thought I was going to get burned at the stake, so I've already mentally prepped for the role."

  "No," shouted Nash.

  HG pushed air noisily from his nose.

  I stepped onto the inner hearth. The flames lapped at the Timberlands. The heat scorched my bare legs. “Get Nash and Remi out of here.”

  HG waved a hand. Brian jerked Nash up from the loveseat. Tied to Nash's back, Remi rose with him.

  “Don’t do this Maizie,” said Nash.

  “What’s happening?” said Remi.

  “Close your eyes, Remi,” I said. “Whatever you do, don’t open them.”

  "Eight minutes," said JJ. "What should I do?"

  Sweat beaded my forehead. My back had grown slick and sticky. The hand holding the necklace and bandolier felt scalded. I pulled out the gun oil and lighter and tossed them on the hearth. “Let Remi and Nash go out the patio door behind them. Lock them out. We still have time to do the announcement.”

  “Brian, wait.” HG crossed his arms. “I don’t believe she’ll really do it.”

  I didn’t want to do it. I wasn't brave like Warhead Girl or as cunning as Julia Pinkerton. But after his ridiculous fight to get the necklace, then to get me to do his stupid reveal, I figured he wouldn't want me to incinerate myself. “Nash. Get Remi out of here.”

  "No," screamed Remi.

  Attached to Nash's back, Remi kicked out, smacking Brian in the nose with her boots. Nash swung around. Snapping his head down, Nash smashed his forehead into Brian's face. Bent over, he barreled into Brian, knocking him backward. The gun flew from his hand and skidded across the granite floor.

  Grant's gun exploded, and a bullet smacked into the wood paneling.

  JJ shrieked and ran into the foyer.

  “Don’t shoot, you idiot," screamed HG. "The equipment."

  I could hear dogs barking and a door slammed, but my focus was on Nash and Remi.

  “Maizie,” yelled Nash, crashing his shoulder against the patio doors. The door held. His fingers scrambled, trying to gain purchase on the lock. "Come on, honey. Now."

  "My eyes are still shut, Maizie," hollered Remi. "But I want to look real bad."

  “Keep your eyes closed, Remi, and no matter what, don't look." My arm felt singed.

  "Brian, get off the floor," yelled HG. "Shoot them."

  “That's it. Fire in the hole,” I screamed, tossing the necklace and bandolier into the fire. Leaping away from the fireplace, I tripped on a cord and slammed onto the granite. Then wrapped my hands around my head, waiting for the necklace to blow.

  Twenty-Three

  #RaidersOfTheLastSnark

  The granite felt blessedly cool on my heated skin, despite my skinned knees and palms. But the necklace didn't blow, detracting everyone from our escape, which had been my great plan. The leather bandolier only smoked, and the bullets turned bright white without a single pop.

  When I had given Daddy the necklace, he told me the bullets weren't hollow, just tied to the leather. "What kind of idiot makes jewelry from live ammunition?" Daddy had said. "But thank you, honey, it's real interestin' anyway."

  As much as I wanted to cool my singed skin on the tiles, my plan needed some work.

  "Grant, you idiot. Use the ash shovel to get the relics from the fire," screamed HG. "Brian, forget about the man and girl. Help him."

  "Hurry, Maizie." Nash had the patio door open. Blessedly frigid air blew in. Outside, dogs barked and people shouted.

  "Get Remi away from here." I needed a new distraction.

  Springing up, I dashed toward the green screen and grabbed the black box from the table. I yanked hard, ripping it free from the tethered wires, and ran for the foyer. Through the open fireplace, I spied Grant struggling with the fire tongs and Brian reaching for the bandolier with the ash shovel.

  Shouting outside the front door caused me to halt in confusion, giving HG time to enter the foyer. "We're live in a few minutes. You’re wearing those artifacts. I don’t care what it does to your skin. I know what hot bullets feel like." He held up his burned hand. Puffy red and white marks covered his palm.

  I backed toward the hall bathroom. I'd gone through enough phones, laptops, and iPads in my teens and early twenties to know exactly what to do with the black box. No amount of rice would save the Supreme Commander.

  “Gentz. HG. Whatever. It’s over. Listen. It’s midnight.” Somewhere, dogs continued to howl. "That's the fireworks over Black Pine Lake. They make the dogs go nuts."

  “No. It can’t be. JJ hasn’t given me the cue.”

  “JJ's gone. Your time's—"

  HG pulled his gun from the saber holster, stopping my words. He glanced over his shoulder, then pointed. "Brian has rescued the bandolier. It's scorched, but the significance will have a greater impact. Grant, hurry with that necklace."

  On the other side of the fireplace's open maw, Brian held the blackened bandolier pinched between tongs. The brass rings gleamed like white gold and the bullets inside almost appeared to be twitching.

  "Look," gasped HG. "It's beautiful."

  An explosive pop stopped my words. I fell back, slamming on to the floor. Covering my head, I squeezed my eyes shut.

  "No," he screamed. "Not the death necklace."

  A series of explosions boomed from the fireplace, sounding like the Fourth of July instead of New Year's Eve. I felt heat zing past me. Abandoning the box, I scrambled on the ground toward the entry. The front door flew open, crashing against the wall. Nash stood in the doorway. In two long steps, he reached me. Scooping me into his arms, he dashed out the door and ran down the drive. His hat blew off, but he didn’t stop. Through the open front door, I heard screams. The screams mixed with sirens, dogs barking, and
the pounding of Nash's feet on the drive.

  "Remi?" I said, looking over his shoulder at my father's cabin.

  "She's with Tiffany and Rhonda in their vehicle on the other side of the gates. The dogs are in the car, too. Your friends called the police when they saw JJ run out of the house. They came here to help us find Remi. When I ran around the house with the kid, they cut us free." He slowed, then turned back to look at the cabin. "We're going to need ambulances, too."

  "Did the bullets shoot Gentz and his men?"

  "No." Nash carefully set me down but kept his arms around me. "The gasses inside combusted and the metal burst. Flying bits of hot shrapnel." Nash moved us off the gravel and into the grass. Flashing red and blue lights flooded the drive. "It was awful. Like Gentz's face had melted. I don't know what he was thinking, trying to get the necklace out of the fireplace."

  "How awful. I didn't mean for that to happen." I shuddered against him. "I was just trying to give you time to get out with Remi."

  "It worked but don't ever do that to me again." Nash gently tightened his arms around me. "I've never been so scared in my life. That man's deranged."

  "You should meet some of the directors and producers I've worked with." I laid my head against his chest and sighed. "Genius is overrated if you ask me."

  "Give me dumb and easy to catch any day." Nash kissed my hair, then pulled away to look down at me. "Back at the hotel, you were very angry at Ms. Wonderly. Why do you think my type is helpless females?"

  I shrugged, avoiding his eyes.

  "Miss Albright, I’ve never considered you the helpless type. Maybe when I first met you, but if you remember, you proved that wrong pretty quickly."

  "Wait, what?" I looked up.

  "You’re the opposite of helpless. In fact, I wish you would let me help you just a little. Offering to set yourself on fire? Willingly allow yourself to be abducted?" He gritted his teeth, cleared his throat, and gazed at me. "Maizie, my type is you."

  “Me?" Tears bit my eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you. I was jealous. I’m not used to someone always having my six. I’m more accustomed to a guy maybe having my three, but usually they stop at two.”

  “I don’t think you quite understand what watching your six means,” said Nash slowly. “But I get it. I’ve had the same issue with women. And I got your six. And your three, nine, and twelve.”

  A police car zoomed past us. Another followed, and a third slowed down to shine its lights on us. In the distance, I could hear the faint clanging of church bells immediately followed by the shrill wail of Black Pine's emergency siren. An explosion of colored lights lit the sky above the lake. And inside Rhonda's car, the dogs howled.

  "You’re hot, Miss Albright," Nash shouted over the noise. "But it's midnight. Can I kiss you?"

  My skin felt too warm to blush. "You're pretty hot yourself, Mr. Nash."

  "I meant literally. I was worried about hurting you." He chuckled. "But that, too."

  Spot lit by the police car, Nash bent his head. His lips covered mine, and more heat zinged through me. I didn't think I could ever complain about Black Pine's winter weather again.

  Twenty-Four

  #NewYearsRevolution

  With HG and his people arrested, a government agency had arrived to take away his equipment. Remi, Nash, and I watched them box up the Supreme Commander and all the other gadgets, then remove the wooden crates.

  That left us to clean and restore the cabin before my father arrived home. He'd left Brunswick when I called early on New Year's Day to report what had happened.

  "I hope Daddy's not going to be too upset about losing his hunting and fishing tree," I said. "But I'm not sorry the necklace was destroyed."

  "I'm never touching that fireplace again," said Remi. "But my Grinch traps worked."

  "Remi?" I folded my arms, giving her my best big-sister-means-business look.

  "I know it was wrong," she said quickly. "But I reset 'em when you and Nash were talking in the kitchen yesterday. I'll never ever do it again and please, please, please don't tell Daddy."

  Peering into the fireplace, Nash reached inside and unhooked the bungee cables. Three dented cookie sheets fell into the fireplace, crashing against the metal andiron. "I guess you did catch the Grinch. The way these were battered, looks like they probably caused some ricochet."

  "Don't give her any ideas." I shuddered, but Remi looked pleased. "Any more bullets in there? I'm afraid of what will happen next time Daddy or Carol Lynn want a fire."

  "What will happen?" A booming voice responded from the hall to the kitchen. Looking like a cross between a bewildered Paul Bunyan and confused Santa, my father stood slightly slack-jawed, eyeing the mess in his foyer.

  "Daddy," Remi shrieked, bounding over to Boomer Spayberry. "I saved everyone from the Grinch."

  He patted Remi's head, then reached into his pocket and passed me a box. “Maizie, I got you a little something while we in Brunswick.”

  Inside the box was a small glass ornament. I held it up. "It's a peach."

  "A Georgia peach. For your tree next year."

  "My tree?" My smile faltered. "Do you want me to move out because of what happened?"

  "No sugar." He slipped an arm around my shoulder. "We'll have four trees next year. At our house, everyone gets their own tree. An oversight on my part this year."

  Remi tugged on my sweater. "You can have my ponies if you want, Maizie."

  Daddy swung Remi up and pulled her into our hug. I glanced at Nash, wishing I could invite him to join. He studiously avoided us by making a stack of the dented cookie sheets.

  Nash wasn't much of a hugger. And, I supposed, we hadn't reached the family group hug stage in our relationship. Yet.

  Releasing me, Boomer eyed my sister. "You and I are about to have one long talk about the Grinch, Remington Marie Spayberry."

  Remi ducked her head. "I was just trying to help."

  "Your sister had a fine job saving you from helping." Boomer looked at Nash. "I'll take over from here. I imagine y'all have some paperwork or whatnot concerning the police. I can never thank you enough for rescuing this one from the trouble she's caused."

  "Don't be too hard on her," I said. "She had a rough night."

  "Oh, I'm fine. It was all so exciting." Eyeing her father's look, Remi changed her expression. "I mean, I'll never try to catch bad guys again."

  "I hope Maizie's done catching bad guys, too." Daddy gave me a similar look to the one he'd used on Remi. I didn't like that look. The look spoke of his disapproval of my career choice. He’d had similar looks several times in the past. For example, when I had taken the role of Warhead Girl.

  But I guess he'd been right about that career choice.

  "We'll be going. Police and paperwork and whatnot," I said quickly, grabbing Nash by the sleeve. "Happy New Year, Daddy. And don't worry, all's well—"

  "Judging by the way my house looks, I wouldn't say it ended well." His shoulders sagged and he tightened his grip on Remi. "But y'all are safe and sound and I can't really ask for more. Thank you, Jesus."

  "Amen," I called over my shoulder and pushed Nash toward the door.

  * * *

  Back in Nash's office, we collapsed on the sagging couch, then straightened as the office door flew open.

  "Maizie, why are you so difficult to find?" Vicki arched a brow. "I've been trying to call you to wish you a Happy New Year since midnight."

  "My phone is in a porta-potty…" I stopped. "I thought you were in Fiji."

  "That's the thing about vacations. You generally return from them." She strolled to the couch, bending to buss my cheek. "Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, and all that."

  "Happy New Year, Vicki," said Nash drily.

  "Yes, you, too. I have some news for you." She glanced around, wrinkled her nose, and carefully placed her Bottega Veneta pouch on the coffee table. "It's remarkable that you've had any clients at all with the lack of seating in here. Not to mention the dust."

&
nbsp; "We have news for you, too." I leaned back on the couch and crossed my arms. The old Maizie would have hopped up and offered her my seat, but Vicki had broken the proverbial straw this time. "The Warhead Girl cartridge necklace has been destroyed. You can't have it. Your mission failed."

  "What mission?" Vicki laughed. "Why would I want with that necklace?"

  "To sell it to HG? Horatio Rudolph Gentz, the billionaire tech giant." I stared at her. "You went to all this trouble to get the necklace, sending Ms. Wonderly here. Having Gordon find me. Destroying their lives when they should have been spending the holiday with their families."

  "I paid them well for their troubles." Vicki rolled her eyes. "And I wasn't going to sell the necklace to HG. He's a lunatic. Brilliant. A genius. But a lunatic. Everyone knows that. He's driven me crazy for years, wanting baubles from your odious movie. When Manganoid Pictures decided to do the sequel, HG grew more erratic. I finally paid Manganoid fifty thousand to get out of my production contract. If anything, I want to get rid of that damn necklace."

  I darted a look at Nash. He glanced at me, then rested his icy blue eyes on Vicki. "So you were trying to protect Maizie from HG by tricking us into giving the necklace to you?"

  I threw my hands into the air. "Why didn't you just tell me about HG and what he wanted with the death necklace?"

  "You gave your father that necklace. Would you have given it to me, even if I told you about HG? The truth was so ludicrous, you'd think I was doing it to spite Boomer."

  It was true. She had a history of trying to spite my father. Often times in ridiculous circumstances.

  Vicki studied the emotions flitting over my features that I hadn't bothered to hide. "Exactly. You're welcome." Vicki grabbed her purse and dusted the bag. "By the way, you have one week to move from this office. I stopped paying the lease on this grungy dive. It's not befitting our purposes."

  "And what purposes would those be?" Nash's voice had all the warmth of a January blizzard.