Claus for Celebration

by Laura Durham

  I considered not mentioning our little expedition inside Brianna's office an omission and not a lie. Besides, we hadn't broken in, although we'd been intending to. "We didn't want to stick out while we searched for the flowers. We thought all black would make us blend in."

  "If you wanted to blend in, you shouldn't have taken Fern or Leatrice," he muttered from behind his beer.

  "Believe me, it wasn't our plan to bring them." I set my nearly full bottle on the coffee table and headed down the hall, pulling off my shirt as I walked. "But you know how hard it is to get out without Leatrice seeing you."

  "I've considered rappelling before," Reese said, watching me disappear into the bathroom.

  I laughed as I peeled off the rest of my clothes and turned on the shower. "Our neighbors would love that."

  Reese appeared in the open bathroom door as I stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed. "If you're right about this Brianna being the one to threaten you, then pop Kate's tires and steal Buster and Mack's flowers, it seems like she's escalating pretty quickly."

  "Do you think we should press charges?"

  "Maybe if you hadn't taken the evidence out of the dumpster behind her offices," he said. "But now it might be tough to prove anything."

  I let the water pour over me and hopefully wash away any trace of rancid flowers. "If we'd left them any longer, there would have been no chance to save them. As it is, they're not in great shape, but hopefully Buster and Mack can nurse them back to health in time for Saturday. I'll have to find a different way to deal with Brianna."

  "I hope that doesn't mean taking things into your own hands and going vigilante."

  "Do I strike you as the vigilante type?" I asked, as the warm water pounded against the knots in my shoulders.

  "I was thinking more about Kate," he said.

  "I can't make any promises when it comes to Kate. She did suggest having Brianna shipped off to Siberia. I'm pretty sure she can't actually pull it off, though."

  "You're only pretty sure?"

  I poured some coconut-scented shower gel into my hands and lathered it over my body. "She has a lot of ex-boyfriends in the government. I make no promises. Usually it comes in handy, like when we need to get special permits for elephants parading down Constitution Avenue or group tickets for tours of the Capitol."

  He chuckled. "I hope your clients appreciate everything you two do for them, babe."

  I poked my head out of the curtain. "If we do our jobs well, they'll never know any of this ever happened."

  "And this other planner has no idea you rescued the flowers?"

  I turned off the water. "Nope. No one saw us getting the flowers out of the dumpster. The alley was deserted. Aside from Santa." I hesitated as I pulled back the curtain, wondering whether or not to mention what we'd seen when we'd inadvertently driven down the wrong alley. I decided since I was busted, I might as well. "But we were spotted by some unsavory characters when we were driving to Lush."

  "There are a lot of unsavory characters late at night in Georgetown," Reese said, handing me a towel.

  I wrapped the towel around my chest then grabbed another for my hair. "Yeah, but these guys had guns, and one chased our car out of the alley."

  He frowned. "You were chased at gunpoint and you're just now mentioning it?"

  I flipped my head over and twisted the second towel around my wet hair, flipping it up and making it into a turban. "It's been a pretty busy night. Besides, it happened pretty fast, and Leatrice got us out of there before anything happened." I let out a breath. "I knew if I told you we saw something suspicious, you'd assume we were meddling in the case, which I promise you we're not."

  My fiancé dragged a hand through his hair. "The case?"

  "Kris Kringle Jingle said he saw something suspicious in Georgetown, and then he disappeared. What if we saw the same thing?"

  He opened his mouth as if to argue with me, then clamped it closed. He dragged a hand through his hair. "How do you and your friends manage to stumble into crimes wherever you go?"

  "I honestly don't know."

  He shook his head. "It's really hard to stay angry at you when you're wearing nothing but a towel." He took another steadying breath. "Okay. Where did this happen?"

  I thought back to the street we'd accidentally turned onto. "An alley down near the water. I think it was off of Thirty-first.” I took a step closer. "Are you saying you think my hunch might be right?"

  He narrowed his eyes at me. "I'm only saying it might be worth checking out."

  "Can you investigate if there's not an official report or request?"

  Reese wrapped an arm around me and pulled me close. "You're not the only one who can follow a hunch and disobey orders."

  My pulse quickened as his hazel eyes deepened to green. I loved it when he talked dirty.

  Chapter 28

  “So he's going rogue?" Kate asked, as we stood at the back of Western Presbyterian Church the next evening.

  "Not exactly," I said. "But he's going to poke around off the books."

  Kate nudged me. "I think we're rubbing off on him."

  "I don't know if that's a good thing or not."

  After a hectic week, we’d both taken the day off to prepare for the weekend’s wedding, and now we were waiting for the bridal party to arrive for the ceremony rehearsal. As usual, we were early, and, as it was with most rehearsals, the bridal party was late.

  The church was lit at the front of the sanctuary, the light wood wainscoting and carved wooden arch overhead illuminated with lights behind the choir loft. It was already dark outside, so the stained glass windows along both sides of the church were muted, although the hanging pendant lamps over the pews shone down.

  “It could have been anything, you know.” Kate walked from the church foyer into the sanctuary, stepping on the wine-colored carpeting that ran down the center aisle. “Just because the guy had a gun, doesn’t mean he’s a criminal. Half the people in the country are packing, and some of them walk around with semiautomatics strapped to their backs just because they can. Of course, if you ask me, those guys are compensating for something.”

  I glanced around the quiet church, hoping a minister wasn’t within earshot. “You’re right. It could have been a regular, law-abiding citizen who just happened to be unloading a truck of perfectly legal goods in the dead of night.”

  Kate smirked at me. “Well, when you say it like that, it sounds silly.”

  I breathed in the scent of lilies, noticing two aging arrangements of white blooms at the altar. I knew Buster and Mack would be replacing those with their own stunning arrangements of blooming branches and hydrangea—as long as the flowers had sufficiently recovered. If anyone could pull off a wedding miracle, it was my florists with the super-charged prayer chain and faith as expansive as their biceps.

  “I’m going to go look for the minister,” I said, with a glance at my phone. “It’s one thing for the bride and groom to be late, but we can’t start rehearsing without her.”

  “Don’t leave me here.” Kate hurried behind me as I started to walk up one side of the sanctuary.

  I looked back at her. “It’s a church. I think you’re safe.”

  She rubbed her arms. “Empty churches feel spooky, and they echo too much.”

  I shook my head as we snaked our way through the sanctuary and along a corridor to the administrative building attached to the church. It was quiet here, too. No doubt, the staff had all left early for the weekend.

  “I don’t see her,” Kate said, sticking close to me as we continued down a softly lit hallway.

  I found the minister’s office, but the door was locked and the lights were off. So much for that. “You called and confirmed the rehearsal time, right?”

  Kate bobbed her head up and down. “I talked to the reverend herself. Confirmed the time and date. I’m sure that’s why the sanctuary is open and the lights are on.”

  She was right about that. If there wasn’t anything
going on in the sanctuary, the front doors would not have been unlocked for us.

  “Where could she be?” I asked. “I know we’re early, but this thing is supposed to start in fifteen minutes. The entire church is deserted.”

  “Not the entire church. There’s Miriam’s Kitchen.”

  “Miriam’s Kitchen? You mean the soup kitchen?”

  Kate let out an impatient breath. “It’s a bit more than that, and it’s inside the church.”

  I pointed to the floor. “This church?” How had I not known that? Although, to be fair, Kate had done all the work coordinating with the church on this wedding.

  More nods from my assistant. “Yep. I think it’s still open for a little while longer.”

  “Maybe the reverend is there,” I suggested, heading off down the hall again.

  Kate caught my arm and tugged me in the other direction. “This way, boss.”

  She led me through the church and outside. We walked down the side of the stone building to a stone arch with iron gates standing open.

  “How do you know about this?” I asked.

  “I came here to drop off the couple’s application, remember?” She smiled as she ducked past the gates. “I got a full tour.”

  I followed her into a large room that had fluorescent lighting running overhead and reminded me a bit of the other shelter we’d visited, although this one had paper snowflakes hanging down from the ceiling. The tables were round instead of rectangular, circled with gray, metal folding chairs. The room was warm and smelled like food, the lingering scent of lunch and coffee hanging in the air.

  It was clear that Miriam’s Kitchen was preparing to close for the evening. Only a few people were scattered around the tables, but my gaze faltered when I saw one figure crouched over a far table.

  “No reverend,” Kate said with a sigh.

  I nudged her and pointed to the man in red and white. “But we found another Santa.”

  “You don’t think it’s . . .?” Her words trailed off.

  “What are the chances of us finding Kris at a shelter all the way across town that happens to be in our bride’s church?” I asked as I led the way through the tables toward the man, my heart pounding.

  He looked up as we approached, and my heart sank.

  “Apparently, not great,” Kate said, sounding as defeated as I was.

  It wasn’t Kris. This man was gaunt with dark circles under his eyes and had none of the merry twinkle that the singing Santa did.

  “You’re not Kris,” I said to answer the questioning look in his eyes.

  His face contorted for a moment, and he shook his head vigorously. “Nope.”

  I watched his cheeks color beneath the gray stubble covering them. “Are you Stanley?”

  He rubbed his nose and answered quickly. “Nope.”

  “Now, why are you lying to these nice ladies?” A burly man with thick arms and a deep baritone voice asked as he wiped off a table nearby.

  Kate and I both turned to the man who wore a white apron over his T-shirt.

  “This is Stanley?” Kate asked, jerking a thumb toward the Santa squirming in his chair.

  “He sure is.” The man with the apron gave us a wide smile as he walked back toward the kitchen. The clattering of pans told me there were more people cleaning up back there.

  I pivoted to face Stanley, who’d scooted a few chairs away from us. “We’re not here to turn you in.”

  He blanched. “Why would you turn me in? I haven’t done nothing wrong.” He looked from me to Kate. “Who are you?”

  I thought for a second about the best way to sell ourselves. “We’re friends with Buster and Mack.”

  His face relaxed a little bit. “Why are you here?”

  “Believe it or not,” Kate said, putting her hands on her hips. “It’s a total coincidence. We’re running a wedding rehearsal here.”

  “A lot of people have been looking for you,” I said. “People are worried about you.”

  He gave a snort. “I’ll bet folks have been looking for me.”

  “We know Kris isn’t dead,” I said, hoping I was right and hoping this would get him to talk.

  He pressed his lips together. “You don’t know nothing.”

  “Why are you dressed up like Santa?” Kate asked. “Taking over your friend’s beat?”

  Stanley shook his head. “It’s not like that.”

  “Tell us then,” I said. “Whatever’s going on, we’d like to help.”

  “She’s engaged to a cop,” Kate said. “If you need protection, I’m sure Annabelle can arrange it.”

  Another derisive laugh. “You two are in over your heads.”

  “Always a possibility,” Kate muttered, pulling her phone out of her purse as it vibrated. She elbowed me, and I glanced over at the text. The bride had arrived and now she was the only person in the sanctuary. From the liberal use of exclamation marks, she wasn’t taking it in stride.

  “We’d like to talk to you more . . .” I began as I turned back to Stanley.

  “That was fast,” Kate said, twisting around to take in the now-empty room.

  Stanley was gone.

  Chapter 29

  I surveyed the rehearsal dinner space with my hands on my hips as waiters scurried around filling water glasses and lighting candles.

  "No mentioning any of this to Richard," I warned Kate.

  She nodded, fluffing a faux burlap linen on a high-top table. “You mean the homeless Santa who might or might not have something to do with Kris Kringle Jingle, who might or might not be dead?”

  I let out a steadying breath. “Yes, that.”

  We’d made a cursory attempt to find Stanley, but he’d ducked out through the kitchen and disappeared into the night. After that, we’d been focused on calming the bride and getting the rehearsal going. The reverend had arrived late, as well as the church wedding coordinator, and Kate and I had been able to race over to the rehearsal dinner venue ahead of the bridal party.

  Kate mimed zipping her lips. “The secret is safe with me.”

  Richard came up behind us with an electric lighter in one hand. "What are we keeping secret now?"

  I put a hand to my heart. "Don't sneak up on me like that. You scared me half to death."

  Richard eyed me. "A little jumpy, darling?"

  "Just excited to put this weekend in the rearview mirror." I turned to him as Kate stepped away to fluff more linens. "It looks great.”

  We'd ducked out of the wedding rehearsal at the church--after lining up the processional and being shooed out by the rather territorial church lady--and rushed over to the Dockmaster Building at the DC Wharf. The two-story space perched on the end of the long dock and had three walls of floor-to-ceiling glass, giving it wide views of the Potomac River and a distant view of the monuments. When we'd booked it for December, we'd never imagined being able to use the balcony, but I noticed high tables scattered near the glass railing that ringed the second level.

  Even though it didn't feel wintery outside, the après ski lodge decor made the inside look as cozy as a chalet in Aspen. A fake fur runner ran down the middle of both long dinner tables, topped with glass-encased pillar candles and freestanding antlers. A bar made with frosted logs sat off to the side with evergreens towering behind it, and chic brown leather furniture groupings were positioned on either side of the tables, cashmere throws draped over the love seats. The room even smelled like a Christmas tree.

  “You'd never know it's T-shirt weather outside," I said.

  Richard frowned, giving my sleeveless black dress a quick once-over. "You could have dressed more to the theme."

  I noticed that he wore tweed and wondered how he wasn't sweating bullets. "I don't own anything that screams ski lodge in summer."

  He sniffed and arched a brow. "More's the pity. I have the AC cranked as high as it will go, so you might be wishing for a sweater soon."

  "None of the guests are dressed for cold weather," I reminded him. "Do you really
want people shivering their way through dinner?"

  "That's what the throws are for." He waved to the clear chivari chairs around the dinner tables, and I noticed cream-and-brown plaid pashminas draped over the backs.

  Leave it to Richard to create a practical problem and solve it in the most stylish way.

  "I checked the weather app," I said, holding up my phone. "The temperature is supposed to drop tonight."

  Richard sniffed. "A lot of good that does me."

  "Well, it makes the wedding reception a bit less ridiculous." I tucked my phone back into my dress pocket, as I spotted the event photographer leaning close to a place setting and snapping away. "And no one can tell how cold it was in photos."

  Richard tapped a finger to his jaw. "You make a good point. This will still look fabulous on the Richard Gerard website."

  "See? Lemonade out of lemons."

  "I would love some lemonade," Fern said, dashing across the room from the entrance and wheeling his small black suitcase of hair supplies behind him. "It's perfect lemonade weather."

  Richard scowled at him and I glanced around quickly, hoping he didn't have Leatrice in tow. Sometimes Leatrice manages to sweet-talk her way into my weddings, and Fern was usually the softest mark.

  "What are you doing here?" I asked.

  He fluttered a hand at me. "The bride wanted me to meet her here for touch-ups after the rehearsal."

  Kate walked back up. "She needs touch-ups already? Didn't you just do her hair an hour ago?"

  Fern shrugged. "I don't ask questions, sweetie. I just nod and smile."

  Not a bad policy for working with brides.

  "How did the rehearsal at the church go?" Fern asked, touching a hand to his low ponytail. "I tried to calm her down at the hotel when she was getting ready."

  "Not bad," I said. "She was a little nervous when she got there, but by the time we lined up the bridal party, she seemed more relaxed."

  "That's because I gave her some wine," Kate said.