by Liliana Hart
“What are you doing?” Agatha jumped and swatted the tech’s hand away from her.
“I’m checking your heart and lungs.” The young woman said apologetically.
Agatha jerked her shirt up to her neck and felt the flood of embarrassment from all eyes on her reaction. Actually, it was her overreaction.
“I’m sorry, but I’m fine,” she said.
Sweet eased up from his chair and unrolled his shirtsleeve. “It’s probably a good sign we’re not dead. My lab will have results back within a few minutes.” He guzzled and orange juice and handed one to Agatha.
“How in the world did she know we’d be there?” Will asked, bending his elbow close to his body to compress the bleeding in the crook of his arm.
“I’ve been thinking about this,” Hank said, “but I can’t quite put my finger on it. It’s like flashes from my past keep trying to tell me something, but my mind can’t hold onto the thought. I feel like I know who it is. Kind of.”
“I wish your brain would grab hold, because until then Santa Claus is an endangered species,” Sweet said, holding up his phone. “Incoming.”
“Another one?” Agatha asked.
Sweet nodded. “That makes half a dozen,” he said. “She’s escalating, and she’s bold as you please.
“This is about me,” Hank said. “She started off trying to get my attention. That would explain why she came into Rusty Gun and hit right under my nose. After she got my attention, that’s all it took. Now she’s trying to make a point.
A lab tech came in and handed Sweet a sheet of paper.
“We’re clear,” Sweet said. “I’m pretty sure I’m going to have a lot of wine tonight. It’s been a heck of a day.”
“We’re going to have to bring in the FBI,” Will said. “I’m not authorized to go off on a serial killer hunt without back up. Bad stuff happens when you chase evil elves alone.”
“Good call, Will. I guess that will limit our involvement. Right Hank?” Agatha asked, but Hank wasn’t listening.
“Hank, you okay?” Sweet rushed to him. He grabbed his wrist and monitored his pulse.
Hank dropped his head and tried to catch his breath. Sweat dripped from his temples, and his hair was drenched. He was clearly in distress.
“I know,” he whispered. “I know who it is.”
Everyone froze.
Agatha rushed to his side. She wanted to put her arm around him, but didn’t know if he’d be receptive to the touch.
“Take your time, Hank,” she said.
“Tammy and I were in Dallas working an investigation,” he said. “We’d been hunting The Bonekeeper for years. He was the most brutal, but highly skilled killer we’d ever come up against. His trail led us to Texas. That’s where Sweet and I first met.”
Sweet patted Hank on the back.
“While we were running information traces on The Bonekeeper, we discovered he had family in North Texas, but they’d been killed years earlier in a house fire on Christmas morning. They had a daughter who survived, but she was institutionalized.” Hank said.
“I remember The Bonekeeper,” Will said. “I was a patrolman at the time, but it’s one of those once in a lifetime cases. I studied that file from top to bottom and got the chance to do some of the legwork. I remember the story about the girl. She set fire to her house and killed her folks, because she caught her mother kissing Santa Claus. Turns out it was her dad dressed in a costume. Smoke filled the small house so fast that her folks never made it out of bed. The girl, I think she was eight or nine years old, simply walked out the back door and sat down to watch.”
“Holy cow,” Agatha said.
“She was maybe eight years old, but she already had a history of mental illness. Had been in and out of therapy for years. Liked to hurt animals and the kids at school. Someone like that is hard to forget.” Will continued.
“You’re right,” Hank said. “I never should’ve forgotten her. The court gave us approval to meet with the girl. Texas wasn’t too happy about allowing two Yankee cops in to speak to the child. We didn’t know her background at the time, but only that she’d been traumatized by her parent’s loss.
“I’ve never seen anything like her. A true psychopath. She fell asleep during our interview. She was a heartless, calculating robot. Talking to her took an emotional toll on Tammy. The girl was asleep, so I didn’t think much of it. I put my arm around Tammy to give her a quick hug and kissed her. It was quick. Just a peck, but the girl’s head snapped up as if someone had stuck her with a straight pin. She came at us in a rage. It was the first emotion we’d seen from her, and it took all the strength I had to hold her off.
“The attendants came in and shackled her, dragging her kicking and screaming from the room. She kept yelling, “I hate you, Santa.” Before we left, I noticed something on the table where she’d been sitting. She’d etched XOXO in it with a tooth she’d broken off.”
“You remember her name?” Sweet asked. “I don’t remember that part of it. The Bonekeeper was the priority. A sealed juvenile record will take some time to access.”
“Last name was Belle,” Will added.
“Yep,” Hank said. “Ellie Belle.”
“I remember we considered that her uncle had killed the parents, but that wasn’t his MO. Do you think he knew his niece had threatened you?”
“I do. I should’ve taken Ellie’s threat seriously, but she was just a child. Tammy became The Bonekeeper’s next victim, and I put the kid out of my mind. All I could think about was bringing in The Bonekeeper.”
“You couldn’t have known,” Agatha said.
“I should have,” Hank said. “People like her, they don’t grow up to be normal. There’s no fixing crazy.”
Sweet’s cell phone buzzed and he swore. “Santa’s are dropping like flies,” he said. “We’ve got to put out an alert. That’s number seven.”
Chapter Fifteen
Late Thursday & Early Friday Morning
“Maybe this isn’t so bad,” Agatha said, looking around the opulent room.
Nick Dewey had provided them with every comfort. They were eating a catered supper in front of the fire that was roaring in the big stone hearth, and Hank felt the exhaustion of the day settle in. Between the wine and the good meal, he could barely keep his eyes open.
Papers were scattered across the coffee table, and he stared at Agatha. Flickers of light from the fire reflected off her profile, and he thought she was beautiful. He shook his head. He had no business having those thoughts about her. She was his partner. Like she’d said, they were friends.
Her head was buried in a stack of papers. She was relentless in her research. She was like a sponge, and she remembered everything.
He swirled the remainder of his wine in his glass and decided he’d had enough. His thoughts were getting much too warm toward Agatha, and she was looking much too cozy curled up in the corner of the couch.
He leaned toward her, and she looked up, her eyes wide. Her lips parted. Had he ever noticed how full they were before? She leaned toward him slightly, and he handed her his wine glass.
“You want the rest of this?” he asked, and all but shoved it toward her.
She took it out of necessity. “No, I think I’ve had enough.” She set it on the end table.
He didn’t know why he was in the mood to live dangerously, but he undid the strap on his holster and took it off. Then he leaned forward again and handed it to her.
“Can you put this over there too?”
She looked flushed, and he wondered if she was having the same thoughts he was. They’d never talked about being anything more than friends or partners. She’d always been very professional, and he had too. Maybe it was just the high intensity of their situation that was making them both more aware.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Yeah, I’m just getting punchy. It’s been a long day.”
Thanks for letting me unload on you earlier,” he said, sincerely. “The
re are very few people in this world that know about Tammy. Coil is one of them.”
“I’m glad you felt comfortable talking about her,” she said. “You can trust me. I’m your partner and your friend first and foremost. I would never betray that.”
He nodded and told her goodnight. Things were getting much too warm and comfortable.
It was well past two o’clock in the morning before Hank was roused from his sleep. He was disoriented, befuddled from the wine and exhaustion, and he reached across his pillow to grab his pistol off the nightstand.
There was another noise, and this time he recognized it. It was his cell phone buzzing with a message from Sweet.
12:28am
Santa number eight. Got him at a private office party. Young guy this time.
1:24am
My lab still at it. Think we know what poison is being used. Brief 0800.
2:11am
I guess you’re sleeping. She got number 9. We must stop her. See you at 0800.
Hank rubbed his bleary eyes before thumbing out a response.
2:14am
We’ll be there.
Friday morning was almost as cold as the day before. Hank felt guilty for not waking Agatha up when Sweet had texted, but he didn’t want to disturb her sleep. Also, he didn’t want to take the chance of seeing a sleepy, tousled Agatha in the middle of the night. He’d barely escaped without kissing her. There was no reason to play with fire.
Agatha was already up and in the kitchen making her tea when he strolled into the kitchen the next morning. He filled her in on Sweet’s texts.
“I’m ready when you are,” she said.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked.
“I tossed and turned all night,” she said, looking him straight in the face. “How about you?”
The corner of his mouth quirked in a smile. “Me too.”
Half an hour later they were standing in the lobby of the coroner’s complex and met by a uniformed Texas Ranger standing guard at the reception desk.
“We’re here for a meeting with Dr. James Sweet,” Hank said.
“Names?” he asked, not budging from his spot in front of the entrance.
“Harley and Davidson,” Hank said.
“Like the motorcycles?”
“Yeah,” Agatha said. “Like the motorcycles. We’re expected.”
“Sorry,” he said. “No one comes in this building without the director’s permission.”
“Which director?” Hank asked.
“The FBI Director,” The ranger said.
Sweet burst through the side door that led to his private office, looking like an angry cloud. “Welcome to the circus,” he said, greeting Hank with a handshake. “It seems like the FBI finally got their thumbs out of their butts when Santa number nine bit the dust. They’re not exactly happy that you’re involved. They think this is just a stunt to sell Agatha’s books.”
“Oh yeah,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Like I’ve killed nine Santa impersonators to sell a book.”
“Not that, but they said we colluded to keep the case a secret so you could benefit. Will told them he reported it earlier in the week, but they missed the message because their on-duty agent was on vacation.”
“That sounds just like them,” Hank said. “Did you tell them who’s doing the killing?”
Sweet shook his head. “I tried. But they’re not really interested in anything but throwing their weight around. I’m not going to beg them to listen to me when we’ve already got the answers.”
“So, Aggie and I are on our own?” Hank said.
“Looks that way. They don’t even want you beyond those doors.”
“Wow, when you leave the club by retiring, you’re really out of the club,” Hank said.
“No way, brother. You’re always welcome here, but those jerks just got caught with their pants down, so they gotta blame it on somebody. Y’all keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll help you anyway I can, and Will is there for you too unless he goes to prison for strangling those feds.”
The door swooshed open behind them, and a young lady in a starch-white lab coat waited for Sweet to turn around. Once he did, the technician waved for him to return. She flashed all ten of her fingers.
“And that makes ten,” Sweet said. “I’ve got to get back in there.”
“Thanks for the heads up,” Hank said.
“Oh,” Sweet said, turning back around. “The FBI wants permission to search your homes for clues.”
Hank grabbed Agatha by the arm to stop her from storming through the doors and eating the FBI director for lunch. He would’ve laughed if it had been any other situation. He enjoyed it when she got riled up.
Sweet chuckled. “I’ll give them the message you’re declining the opportunity.”
They turned to walk out of the building, but the ranger stopped them. “Will said he wants to meet with you at the café in two hours. He said you’d know where.”
Hank nodded and thanked him.
Chapter Sixteen
Friday
They had time to kill before their meeting with Will, so they drove back to Rob’s Electronics. Barney was behind the counter, and he paled when he saw Hank and Agatha walk through the door.
“I see you failed to take my advice,” Hank said.
“I did what you said,” Barney stuttered.
“Did you? How about we talk in the back room, then.”
There were big sweat stains beneath Barney’s underarms. “Fine, I’m working on it, okay? Why are you back?”
“Because I’m going to make your life a living hell if you don’t do exactly as I tell you. The police will be all over this place, and you’ll be looking for your soap in the shower stalls at Huntsville. Got it?”
Barney nodded, the fear in his eyes unmistakable. “What do you want?”
“You’re going to advertise that Santa’s going to be back starting tomorrow.”
“What?” he asked, clearly thinking Hank was going to ask something different. “But I don’t have a Santa lined up.”
“Sure you do,” Hank said. “Me.”
He could see Agatha’s glare from the corner of his eye and knew he was in for a battle, but he didn’t care. Desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Fine,” Barney said.
“I’ll be here at ten in the morning,” Hank said. “And that back room better be spotless. Capisce?”
Barney nodded, unable to get the words out of his mouth. A little fear was a good thing.
“Have you lost your mind?” Agatha said as soon as they were back in the parking lot. “You cannot set yourself up as bait. I won’t be a part of that.”
“Fine,” he said.
“Fine? That’s how you’re going to deal with this? You’re going to pout about it.”
“I don’t pout.”
“Then why won’t you talk to me instead of making decisions that affect both of us. We’re supposed to be partners.”
He could feel everything building up inside of him, and it finally exploded. “Because it’s my fault that this is happening,” he said, shaking her. “I’ve already lost one person who was important to me. I’m not going to lose another.”
“That’s not going to…” Agatha stopped, mid-sentence and grabbed hold of his arms. “I’m important to you?” she asked.
“Of course you’re important to me,” he said. “Why would you even have to ask that? You’re more important than you probably should be. I can’t seem to help myself, no matter how many times I tell myself to look away.”
“Wait a second,” Agatha said. She looked like she was having trouble catching her breath.
“We don’t have time for seconds right now. This woman has killed ten people. We know her better than the FBI. Let’s get her before she moves to number eleven. We can do this. We’ve got Sweet and Will and Coil. And we have each other.”
“Fine,” she said. “We don’t have the seconds to talk about this right now, b
ut we’re sure going to talk about it later. Okay?”
He nodded, and they drove to the café to meet Will. Neither uttered a word. When they entered the café, it was easy to spot Will. He was half a head taller than everyone, and he was also wearing his Stetson.
“Looks like we’re outlaws,” he said, greeting them. “Don’t worry. I brought bottled drinks this time. I figured we probably won’t cheat death twice.”
Agatha hmmphed. “Say that again after Hank tells you his plan.”
“Sounds interesting. I wonder if it’s anything like my plan.”
“Probably,” Hank said. “How do you feel about dressing up as an elf tomorrow morning?”
“My tights are at the dry cleaners,” Will said, “but I see where you’re going.”
“Is my plan anything like your plan?” Hank asked.
“Yes, only in my plan you get to be the elf.”
“Sorry, I called dibs.”
“In that case, I’m sure Coil has some tights that will fit me,” Will said, grinning. “Let’s bring her down.”
Chapter Seventeen
Saturday
Hank looked at the ridiculous breakfast spread that had been delivered the next morning and sent Nick a text thanking him for his hospitality. Nick had turned out to be a good friend, and he was coming through big time.
The outlaws, as Will had dubbed them, were all gathered at Nick’s place by seven the next morning. Will, Sweet, Coil, and his deputy, Karl Johnson, joined Hank and Agatha at the table, and everyone piled up their plates and dug in. The conversation started off light hearted, but quickly turned serious. Each commissioned law enforcement officer understood the consequences of what they were doing. They also knew the risks of operating outside the FBI’s orders and with civilians.
The plan was simple. Hank was the bait as Santa Claus. Agatha would play Mrs. Claus. Sweet and Karl would be elves, and Will and Coil would hang out in the store as customers. Sweet and Karl had drawn the short straws to be elves only because the costume shop had their sizes in stock.
