Pamela DuMond - Annie Graceland 04 - Cupcakes, Paws, and Bad Santa Claus

by Pamela DuMond

  Kenny looked down at the candy cane sticking out of his chest. “Seriously?” he asked. “That’s why I can’t have a drink or an appetizer? I’m dead?”

  Annie nodded. “I’ve been trying to tell you. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “But I think I know who did it. And while I’m no expert, based on experience if I confront your killer—in a kind and gentle fashion—you can go to the light.”

  “But what if I don’t want to go to the light? How do I know what the light is? It might be the fires of hell? I haven’t been the nicest guy in the world after all.”

  When Derrick materialized next to Annie. “You, Kenny Klausen, can go to heaven. Whatever your version of heaven is. Because—I promise you.” He waved his hand like it was a magic wand, bowed and smiled.

  Kenny eyeballed Derrick and frowned. “Promise me what? Who is this guy? Obviously one of hell’s representatives and a perfect example of why I don’t want to go there. Because who in the hell wears a silver thong to a Christmas benefit?”

  “I am acclaimed self-help author, Dr. Derrick Fuller. And my thong is designer. It’s Pucci.”

  “It’s creepy,” Annie and Kenny said.

  “Ignore Derrick,” Annie said. “I really believe you’ll go someplace that is perfect for you. That is everything you dream heaven could be. Do I have permission to confront your killer?”

  Sirens rang in the distance. People hovered next to each other, clutching their purses and each other’s arms while they glanced nervously around the ballroom. Furball volunteers raced to position themselves in front of the animal carriers—first line of defense should the madman who killed Santa try and go on a spree.

  Kenny mused. “Just like every kid who sat on my lap and told me their biggest Christmas wish—I’m trusting you kiddo. Tell Connie I’m sorry I’ll be missing Christmas dinner. She’s the best.” He grew teary-eyed. “I’m ready. Get the jerk.”

  “I’ll do my very best,” Annie said.

  She whip-turned to Bruno the Elf who held a twelve-inch candy cane in one hand and consoled Bootsy Bauerfeld, his tiny arm extended upward as he clutched her waist. “Step away from Mrs. Bauerfeld, Bruno. I know what you’ve done. Whisper your confession in my ear, turn around and walk out that door and I won’t say anything until after you’re gone.”

  Bruno’s eyes widened. “What do you know you stupid, pathetic Mrs. Claus? You Claus people always think you’re better than the elves. Well, I’ve got news for you.” He lunged and jabbed his twelve-inch long Westside Mall candy cane in front of him like a sword fighter. “Santa Claus is not coming to town tonight.”

  12

  The Heart of Christmas

  “Heavens!” Bootsy shrieked.

  “Oh my God!” Grady said.

  “Bruno killed me?” Kenny asked.

  “That would be a yes,” Derrick said.

  “Asshat!” Annie said. She widened her eyes, stared at the front door and pointed to it. “Oh look! The cops are already here. If I were you, Bruno, I’d make a run for it.” She waved her arms high in the air. “Over here officers! I’ve found the killer!”

  Bruno glanced around and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “You don’t know anything.”

  “Wanna bet? You’re wielding a candy cane.”

  “It’s Christmas,” Bruno said. “Everyone has candy canes. You’re even wearing them on your meaty legs.”

  “But my hose doesn’t spell out ‘WESTSIDE MALL—We’ve got it all!’ Those were the candy canes that you, Bruno the elf, gave to my friend and I days ago when we had our picture taken with Santa at the mall,” Annie said. “Just like the candy cane you stabbed into Kenny Klausen after you ambushed and killed him. And if you call my thighs meaty again I might kill you too.”

  “I had no reason to kill Santa.”

  “You had every reason. You were jealous that you could never be Santa. You told me that the elves never got respect. You’re a mean little man. You tried to steal my cat—I mean you killed Kenny Klausen and I’m done with cold-hearted people. I’m done. I will pin your precious behind to the wall and hammer each nail in with one of my platform shoes.”

  Bruno jumped behind Bootsy, grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her back. He pulled a knife from his pocket and held it high above his head against her throat. “I’m leaving this joint with Mrs. Bauerfeld. Back away if you don’t want the dame to get hurt.”

  “Eeks!” Bootsy said.

  Dasher and Blitzen growled and nipped Bruno’s heels.

  “Holy crap!” Grady said.

  “I never liked that guy,” Kenny said.

  “I need you to stay calm, Cupcake. It’s imperative that you think coolly and carefully,” Derrick said.

  “Aw frick,” Annie muttered as Bruno side-stepped past the cupcake tree with Bootsy in tow.

  “Contemplate your move like a Jedi warrior, a Chess Grandmaster, or a Tibetan monk,” Derrick said. “Progress quietly, slowly, thoughtfully, like a Tai Chi—”

  Annie dove headfirst toward the base of the stand holding the cupcake tree. She slammed into its legs like a Green Bay Packer defensive tackler hitting a running back during a playoff game.

  The tree tilted and cupcakes rained. “Run Bootsy, run!” Annie covered her head with her hands as a hailstorm of baked goods flew through the air. The table and the stand crashed onto Bruno, knocking him off his feet and pinning him.

  Bootsy and her dogs skittered across the floor on all fours. Grady leaned in, grabbed Bootsy’s arm and hoisted her up. He put his arm around her as they raced, heads low, across the room to relative safety.

  Police officers burst into the Bauerfeld ballroom and fanned out across the space, with their weapons drawn.

  Bruno brushed off a dozen cupcakes and pushed the table off his legs. He writhed on the floor as he tried to extricate himself from the cupcake tree stand.

  “No way buddy.” Annie blinked and wiped a gob of frosting off her eye. “You’re not going anywhere unless it involves the police and/or prison bars.” She plunked her behind down and parked herself on his back.

  “Hunh!” Bruno exhaled as he collapsed onto the floor beneath her. The knife slipped from his hand and slid a few inches away.

  Annie kicked the weapon away with the toe of her pump. “I guess high heels are good for something.”

  Bruno squirmed and craned his head in protest. “You’re crazy. I’m lawyering up. Some day I’m going to—”

  Annie placed the toe of her shoe on the back of his head and pushed his forehead to the ground. “I’m going to… I’m going to…” he squeaked.

  When a uniformed Santa Monica police officer pointed his gun at Annie and Bruno. “Put your hands in the air. Both of you.”

  Annie put her hands in the air.

  “I can’t,” Bruno muttered. “She’s smothering me and I shouldn’t be here. You need to arrest this crazy woman.”

  Bootsy and Grady staggered toward them—his arm wrapped around her waist. She shivered and pointed at Bruno. “Officer—my name is Bootsy Bauerfeld. The elf-man that Mrs. Claus is seated on threatened me with a knife. You need to arrest him. I will press charges.”

  Lisette stumbled up behind them. “And Santa’s dead with a candy cane in his chest in the liquor pantry. I bet the same guy did it. Oh, Fannie. What in the world did you do to the cupcake tree?” She wrung her hands.

  “Forget the Christmas tree Lisette,” Bootsy said and handed Annie a business card. “I want you to call me, Annie Graceland, when this mess is all over. Your cupcakes are delicious. We need to talk about getting you your own bakery business.”

  Annie took the card as her hand started to shake. “Thank you, Mrs. Bauerfeld. Thank you so much!” She tucked it into her bustier.

  The officer was quickly joined by several of his colleagues. That’s when everything happened very, very fast: Bruno was handcuffed and taken away for questioning. Annie and Grady and Mrs. Bauerfeld were informed they needed to be questioned as well. No one asked to question De
rrick or Kenny Klausen as only Annie and Blitzen could see them.

  When Annie’s boyfriend, Detective Raphael Campillio, arrived on the scene and spotted her and Grady. He strode through the crowd and was at her side in seconds. He pulled her into his arms, tight. “I heard what happened. I was so worried. I raced to get here. Are you okay, Annie?” He released her and took a step back.

  Annie peered up at Raphael and suddenly forgot to breathe. Sweet Jesus, he was beautiful. High cheekbones. Black hair. Full lips. Amply stocked in the tool department. “Um…” Where was the mistletoe when a girl needed some holiday cheer?

  “I haven’t passed to the Afterlife, yet.” Derrick tapped his foot. “Now’s not the time to be going all moony-eyed over some very muscular, fine, gorgeous, um…” He stared googly-eyed at Raphael.

  Annie frowned. “Derr—”

  “She’s okay, Raphael,” Grady said. “She’s just a little cupcaked-out right now.”

  “We need to talk Annie,” Raphael said. “You’ve been on almost as many murder scenes as I have.”

  “You’re dating a professional baker, Detective Campillio.” Annie tossed her hair back and gingerbread remnants went flying. “Do you not understand all the dangers associated with baking? This is the typical life of your average baker: Wild. Dangerous. Un-predictable.”

  “Hmm. And filled with dead people?” He stared into her eyes.

  Grady cringed.

  He had no idea, Annie thought. She held his look.

  “Okay. You need anything, holler. I’m on the job tonight, but at least I’m here.” Raphael leaned down, kissed her quickly on the lips, then turned and walked away.

  Several hours later Annie slumped back against a wall, her shoes in her lap as she gazed at her homemade cupcakes littering the ballroom floor. “They look so sad and forlorn. Like Christmas orphans. That was an awful amount of work that went to no good.”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” Kenny Klausen slumped against the same wall next to her. “You told me I was dead. You found my killer and stopped him from escaping.”

  Derrick paced in front of them. “Kenny Klausen still hasn’t gone to the light. Nor have I.”

  “Is this guy always so pompous?” Kenny asked.

  “Yes,” Annie said.

  “Your task today, Annie, isn’t over until Kenny and I pass to the Afterlife.”

  She sighed. “It seems when you’re a baker with a pinch of psychic ability,” Annie stood up and stretched her arms behind her, “that your tasks are never over. Derrick’s right. You need to go to the light, Kenny.”

  “But I don’t know where the light is?”

  She peered around the ballroom. Could it be one of the stars in the sky shining through the glass doors that opened onto the deck? Doubtful. Was it the twinkling Italian lights that surrounded the cupcake tree that lay on the floor, pathetic and abandoned? Meh. When it dawned on her.

  She stared at the massive stone fireplace next to Santa’s throne. Rudolph the reindeer’s nose strobed red light as he guided the other reindeer and Santa in his sleigh high on the mantle. “It’s Rudolph’s nose,” Annie said. “Go to the light in Rudolph’s nose. It’s the only thing that makes any sense.”

  “I’m going to the Afterlife too!” Derrick said. “It’s my time!”

  Kenny Klausen stood up and shook her hand. “Thank you for everything, Annie. I don’t know how I can repay you.

  “If you get to the Afterlife, Santa, you can send me a Christmas miracle,” she said.

  “But how do I go to the light? How do I do this?”

  “You mean how do we do this.” Derrick stood up straight and held out his hand to Kenny. “Hold my hand.”

  “Ew,” Kenny said.

  “Come on. Be a big boy. First—we face Rudolph.” They swiveled to face the fireplace. “Now set your intention,” Derrick said. “Say ‘I, Kenny Klausen, set my intention to pass to the Afterlife by going to the light.’ Repeat that several times.”

  Kenny frowned. “That sounds like new-age psychobabble.”

  “That’s because it is,” Annie said. “Just think happy thoughts, Kenny. Like love and scotch and turkey dinners.”

  Kenny nodded, shut his eyes shut and murmured, “Love and scotch and turkey dinners. Love and scotch and turkey dinners. Love and—”

  “I, Dr. Derrick Fuller, set my intention to pass to the Afterlife by going to the light.” He stared at Rudolph’s blinking nose and then squeezed his eyes shut. “I, Dr. Derrick Fuller, set my intention…”

  Annie held her breath. One minute passed. A minute and a half. She exhaled. Two minutes passed, but she could still see two ghosts: one in the Santa suit and the other in the silver thong. What was wrong with her life?

  “Stop fondling my hand, Derrick.” Kenny blinked his eyes open. “Funny. The Afterlife looks exactly like the Bauerfeld ballroom.”

  Blitzen left Bootsy’s side, ran toward them and pawed Kenny’s leg like it was a scratching post.

  “That’s because we’re not there yet,” Derrick said. “Something’s wrong. Something’s missing.”

  “There’s always something missing during the holidays,” Kenny Klausen said. “People get all wrapped up in the hub-bub and forget—”

  “The heart of Christmas,” Annie said. “They forget the joy and the magic and the love.”

  Blitzen stared up at her, barked and wagged his tail.

  “I think I have the answer.” Annie picked up Blitzen and handed him to Kenny who reluctantly took him.

  13

  A Miracle

  “Blitzen likes you, Kenny. He needs to go to his version of Heaven too. Take him with you. Because that’s the heart of Christmas. And I think that’s what’s missing.”

  “But what if I’m allergic?”

  “Trust me on this,” Annie said. “I want you and Derrick to focus, chant your magic words and try this again.”

  Derrick held out his hand to Kenny.

  “No. I’ve got to hold the pooch. He’s squirmy,” Kenny said. “Love and scotch and turkey dinners. Love and scotch and turkey dinners…”

  “I will miss you, Cupcake. You’ve been an excellent assistant. Some day if someone very handsome says something incredibly wise to you, just know that it’s really me, smiling down on you from the Afterlife.”

  “Just go, Derrick,” Annie said.

  He winked at her and squeezed his eyes shut. “I, Dr. Derrick Fuller, set my intention to pass to the Afterlife by going to the light. I, Dr. Derrick Fuller, set my intention…”

  Kenny Klausen tucked Blitzen under his arm and they levitated a few feet off the mahogany floors. Annie’s eyes widened. Derrick was still earth-bound as Rudolph’s nose glowed so bright and Kenny flew through the air straight toward it. Blitzen wagged his tail and barked as Kenny and he disappeared into pinpricks of red and white lights, almost like a spectacular firework on the 4th of July. The lights hovered over the ballroom for a few moments and then faded away.

  Derrick opened his eyes and frowned. “You’ve got to be kidding me? He went to the light on his second attempt and I’m still here? After all the good deeds I’ve done?” He stomped his foot and strode away. “I’m not happy!”

  “Apparently you need to do a few more,” Annie said. “I’m sorry.”

  LAPD swarmed the place. They interviewed guests, elves and Furball volunteers. An older Forensics cop, who was good with animals, checked the cages for weapons or evidence as a younger officer helped him.

  Grady, Liam and Annie stood in front of the pet carrier that had already been checked and cleared. It held a longhaired, Himalayan-mix cat that looked exactly like Theodore: except this cat was about half Theodore’s size, a girl, and responded to the name Poppy. “What do you think’s going to happen?” Liam asked.

  “I think Bruno did it. I think he’ll be arrested.” Annie peered through the grill into the crate. “She’s gorgeous. I’m filling out the form to adopt Poppy. You’re right: Mike will never realize she’s not Tedd
y. My divorce will be over and, and… crap.”

  “What?” Grady pulled Poppy out of her cat carrier. He held her in his arms, like a baby, and cooed at her.

  “I can’t do it.”

  “Why not?” Grady scratched Poppy’s chin and rubbed her belly. She purred and wrapped her paws around one of his hands. “You’ll be rid of Mike forever. Get divorced. Get your life back. And waltz off into the sunset with Raphael Campillio.”

  “I can’t do it,” Annie said. “Poppy would be stuck with Mike. He doesn’t care about animals. He just wants his friends and his potential employers to think he cares about animals. She needs a real home, Grady.” She looked at Liam and winked.

  “Maybe you should adopt her for real,” Grady said.

  “I think she’s already taken,” Liam said.

  Annie smiled. “I’m starting the Sweet Paws animal adoption paperwork for you, Grady. Merry Christmas!”

  “Oh my God!” Grady said. “I’m adopting Poppy von Pumpernickel!”

  Annie and Raphael lay on her foldout bed, their limbs intertwined as they caught their breath. Sheets draped and twisted over their glistening bodies. Her thigh wrapped over his and she couldn’t help but drag her index finger back and forth over the part of his muscular chest that lay just under his collarbone, conveniently located between his heart and his shoulder.

  “I wasn’t sure what to get you for Christmas,” Annie said.

  “I think what we just did was an excellent present,” Raphael ran his palm up her back which drew goose bumps.

  “Oh, honey.” Annie giggled. “That wasn’t your present. That was just a stocking stuffer.”

  He laughed. “Have I ever told you my secret Christmas fantasy?”

  “No,” she said. “Share your secret Christmas fantasy with me immediately.”

  “When I was around fourteen-years-old, my mama took me to the mall, along with my brother and sister, to do some last minute Christmas shopping. The place was packed, the clerks were rude, everyone bumped into each other and no one seemed to care.”