by Liliana Hart
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that both elves are black,” Karl said, putting on his ears. “It’s shameful is what it is. How’s a brother supposed to get any respect?”
Everyone chuckled and Will said, “The more important question is how you’re going to hide your weapon in those tights. Seems like things could get embarrassing real fast.”
Sweet’s phone buzzed, and the mood quickly turned dim. “Number eleven,” he said. “It looks like Hank is supposed to be number twelve after all.”
“Then we’d better stop her,” Agatha said, “because I’m going to be really angry if Hank ends up dying.”
“There’s no guarantee she’ll even show up,” Hank said, “but I have a feeling she won’t pass it up. She’s been watching us, and she likes the chance that she’ll get caught. I think deep down inside she wants to get caught. If you see someone moving into kiss me, I give you permission to punch them.”
“Don’t get too cozy with the idea that the poison can only be administered through a kiss,” Sweet said. “I’m suspecting it’s something I’ve seen in a seminar. It’s called Snowflake, and is a derivative of botulism toxin used on a collagen lip mask. While most analytes are detectable, this isn’t thanks to the proteins that are common to bodily fluid that detection could be impossible.”
“So what are you saying?” Hank asked. “For those of us who aren’t doctors.”
“Clinically, Snowflake is a hybrid of botulism and a compound that breaks down into both potassium and chlorine. The chlorine binds with the body's naturally occurring sodium to create sodium chloride, or common table salt. The resultant heart attack is found to have no known cause, because all that is found in the body is a slightly elevated level of sodium chloride. Too much potassium in the body causes tachycardia, or a rapid heart rate. That of course leads to ventricular fibrillation, which is one of many types of cardiac arrest.”
“Oooh,” Agatha said. “You figured it out. I bet the FBI wishes they had you as their elf right now.”
Sweet smiled. “Also, if I remember correctly, Snowflake cannot be dispersed
as an aerosol or liquid. It has to be exchanged through touch with a rapid ingestion upon contact transference.”
“Right,” Hank said. “So like I said, no kissing.”
Agatha winked at him on their way out the door.
The team arrived at Rob’s Electronics in two cars to avoid detection from the parking lot. Barney looked terrible. He was red-faced and smelled of potting soil and fear.
“I promoted it just like you said. Did you see the sign out front?” Barney asked.
“Good job, Barney,” Hank said, trying to ease the man’s fear. Everyone had to act natural, even Barney.
“My team is going to suit up in the back. You did clean it up, didn’t you?”
“Yes, sir. Spotless.” He chuckled and used an old rag to sop at the sweat on his brow. It was thirty degrees outside, and Barney was always sweating. “Y’all aren’t bringing any K-9 drug sniffers for the kids are you?”
“You never know,” Hank said, leaving it at that.
Agatha wasted no time in setting things up. There would be a line up station for the kids and parents, then candy cane decorated ropes that led them to the foot of Santa’s chair. Next, Sweet and Karl would lift each kid onto Hank’s lap and help them off after they’d spilled their guts. Each station was set up to give the team a chance to assess every person.
It had to work. They were out of options.
The costume itched, and he adjusted the beard several times before he just decided he’d have no choice but to suffer through it.
“It’s almost ten o’clock,” Hank said. “Places everyone.” Coil and Will went into the back and left through the alleyway. They’d come back in the front as if they were customers.
Agatha, dressed in a tight Mrs. Claus outfit that showed curves Hank didn’t realize she had, stood by his side. The only thing that gave away her nerves was the constant tapping of her black buckled shoe.
Barney unlocked the doors right at ten o’clock. The team braced for the rush, but there was no one waiting outside. It was about eleven-thirty before someone came through the door. It was a very young boy and what looked like his grandmother. The old lady was no more than five-feet tall. Ellie Belle may have been a master of disguise, but even she couldn’t make herself seven inches shorter.
“You want to see Santa?” The old lady asked the boy.
“No, I wanna get my game and go home so I can play Xbox. Santa is stupid.”
“Just go tell Santa what you want for Christmas,” she insisted. “If you keep acting like this, you won’t get anything.”
Hank rolled his eyes at the kid, thinking the grandmother would do better to take the Xbox away and give him a paddle instead.
“Might be a proxy,” Coil said through the earpiece in his ear.
Thankfully, the old lady surrendered to the boy’s will and left the store with just the video game he wanted and nothing else.
It was another couple of hours before anyone else came in. No wonder Barney was growing pot in the back room. He probably wouldn’t have any customers at all otherwise.
“How about we order out for lunch?” Will said through the comm unit.
“Amen, I’m starving,” Agatha muttered.
“Agreed,” Karl and Sweet said together.
“Okay, it’s almost two,” Hank said. “Might as well. We’ve got another three hours here.”
“How does this guy stay in business?” Coil asked.
“I was just wondering that,” Hank said, deciding he’d keep a watch on Barney. If he started things up his side business again, Hank wasn’t going to give him any more chances.
Sandwiches were ordered from the deli, and it took another forty minutes before they were delivered.
“About dang time.” Coil said. He was sitting behind the counter, working the register for Barney while he unpacked a few boxes a delivery truck had brought earlier.
“Got an order here for Barney,” the teenager said. He had dark hair and a bad complexion, and he wore a ball cap over his shaggy hair. His jeans had holes in the knees and he had a flannel shirt on and a pair of Doc Martins.
“I’ll take it,” Coil said, reaching out.
“You Barney?”
“Yeah,” Coil snapped.
Hank had known Coil a long time, and his friend had a short fuse when he didn’t eat at regular intervals.
“Not until I know for sure you’re Barney,” the kid said. “I ain’t getting stiffed on the bill.”
“Here’s your money,” Coil said. “Now hand over the food.”
“Wow, thanks, mister,” the kid said sarcastically. “A whole five bucks for a tip. That’ll buy my mom something nice for Christmas.”
“I’m happy to take it back,” Coil said, reaching for the five.
Hank couldn’t help but laugh. He’d seen a lot of nutty stuff doing undercover, but never had he seen a pimply-faced teen knock off an entire squad over lunch delivery.
“Hey, Santa,” the kid said. “Can I take a selfie? The guys are going to like this.”
“Yeah, kid,” Sweet said. “but hurry it up.”
“Why? Because you’re so busy?” He asked, snorting out a laugh.
“Okay, one pic.” Sweet swung the red and white candy-stripped cord out of his way.
The kid came up beside the big chair he was sitting in and held up his camera phone, moving in close to Hank. He rested his hand on the back of the chair.
“Say Ho Ho Ho,” the kid said.
Hank leaned in and said, “No, but good try.”
“You’re a real load of cheer, Santa,” the kid said. “Can I wear your hat?”
When did teens become so bossy and obnoxious? Hank took it off and put it on his head, just to get him to move along.
“At least say cheese.” The boy moved to close the gap between them and brought the camera in closer so his view was restricted.
Something caught Hank’s attention out of the corner of his eye. A flap of skin right around the boy’s mouth. He turned his head to get a better look at it right when the kid moved in to try and kiss him. If he hadn’t turned his head at that moment, he’d be dead.
In a quick movement, Hank swept an openhanded smack to the side of the boy’s head. It was all it took for the boy to crumple to the ground.
“Holy crap,” Agatha said. “That was fast. If I’d have blinked I’d have missed it.”
“Keep an eye on the door,” Will called out to Coil. “She might try coming in next since the decoy didn’t work.”
Hank looked down. The forceful blow to the head had caused the wig to fall off, and looking close, he could see where makeup and the acne had been applied.
“It’s her,” Hank said.
Coil grabbed the store’s keys and secured the door.
Ellie Belle lay unmoving. Hank knew he didn’t hit her hard enough to kill her, but it did knock her unconscious. They needed to handcuff her, remove the collagen lip mask, and get her medical attention before being whisked off to jail.
“Coil, you got cuffs?” Will asked.
“Coming,” Coil said as he locked the door.
Hank looked down at Ellie Belle. She’d caused so much destruction and death. She looked innocent enough, but she was a stone-cold killer. A psychopath. There were things he wanted to ask her. Like what role she played in having her uncle, The Bonekeeper, kill Tammy. Among other questions, he needed to understand the why. He was there on scene to witness the how. He just had to ask her that one question.
“Hurry with those handcuffs,” Hank said.
Coil tossed them to him and as he bent down to secure Ellie’s wrists, he saw the very quick, but very certain flicker of Ellie’s tongue across her own lips.
“Sweet,” he called out. “I think she just self-ingested the poison.” Hank felt the panic take over him. She couldn’t die yet. Not until he’d asked her the question.
Sweet shook his head and came to stand next to them. “Sorry, Hank. There’s nothing I can do. There’s no antidote for that poison.”
Hank dropped to his knees and picked Ellie Belle up like a ragdoll. Tears filled his vision.
“Did you help your uncle kill my wife?”
She smiled at him, and he felt the stench of pure evil crawl across his skin.
“Tell me why,” he demanded, shaking her.
“Because…”
Ellie Belle’s lips began to sizzle with a blue burn stain.
“Why?” He demanded again.
“I saw mommy kissing you. I hate you, Santa,” she said, and just that quickly, she was gone.
Sweet felt for the pulse in her throat, then said, “She’s gone.”
He felt Agatha’s arms come around him and for the first time in as long as he could remember, he let himself lean on someone. It felt good.
“I’m so sorry, Hank,” she said.
He dropped his head on Agatha’s shoulder and pulled her close, not caring that his face was wet with tears. “I’m sorry too.”
“What do you have to be sorry for?” Coil asked. “You stopped her before she got her twelfth Santa.”
Hank looked back at her lifeless body. His Santa hat sat crooked over the wig she wore. “Did I really?”
Epilogue
Christmas Eve
Hank and Agatha stood on Coil’s wide front porch and rang the doorbell. Hank held a bag of wrapped presents, and Agatha held a bottle of wine. It had been a long time since either of them had done Christmas.
“Merry Christmas,” Coil said, opening the door. “Y’all come on in. Don’t worry about the screams and the chaos. That’s normal.”
Hank shook Coil’s hand and handed him the bag of gifts, then he hugged Coil’s wife, Shelly. She was a pretty woman with soft brown hair and brown eyes, and she’d always been the one to keep Coil grounded over the years.
“Come on back, the others are already here,” Coil said. “I see y’all rode together.” Coil waggled his eyebrows, and Hank’s lips twitched. “Looks like a date to me.”
He and Agatha had been having some serious discussions about their relationship over the past couple of weeks. She was of the mind that people their age were too old to date, so he liked to tease her about it every chance he got, which meant Coil liked to tease her about it too.
“Shut up, Coil,” Agatha said, and she elbowed Hank in the side.
Sweet was in the kitchen, putting olives on his fingers and entertaining the kids.
Karl was in uniform, but he and his mom, Sheila, were involved in some kind of animated conversation with Heather, and they were laughing uproariously.
These were his friends. A year ago he hadn’t known any of them, but he couldn’t imagine life without them now.
Coil passed out champagne glasses, then held up his own glass. “A toast,” he said, and everyone followed suit. “To good friends and food. May you all be blessed, as you have blessed us.”
“To friends,” everyone said, then drank.
Coil grabbed a box from beneath the beautifully decorated Christmas tree and passed it over to Hank. “We all pitched in to get you a little something for your new adventure,” he said. “We don’t want that pretty face to end up looking like your lip.”
Hank ripped off the paper and opened the box, laughing when he saw the brand new Harley Davidson motorcycle helmet.
“Now I definitely know what Santa is bringing me for Christmas,” Hank said, winking at Agatha.
Sneak Peek: Book 4
“Now, that’s something you don’t see everyday,” Hank Davidson said.
Sheriff Reggie Coil grunted. “I’d have to agree with you on that one, old friend.”
Hank reached for Agatha Harley’s elbow as her feet began to slip out from beneath her and her balance wobbled. She gave Hank an irritated glare.
“Aggie, be careful,” Hank said, fussing at her carelessness.
“Seriously?” she asked. “Am I going to mess up a fifty year old crime scene or something?”
“She’s got a point, Hank,” Coil said.
The three friends stood on a hill that overlooked what had become a very shallow grave in a gully’s chasm. March mornings still brought cool temperatures, but by the afternoons, the springtime’s sun would begin to tease the good folks of Rusty Gun, Texas.
It was just after sunup, and Agatha never imagined she’d be playing girl scout and hiking through the woods about fifteen miles outside of town. Even less expected was the skeleton wearing a leather vest and laying on top of a fortune in gold about twenty feet beneath her.
She was dressed in her Eddie Bauer hiking boots, Lycra jogging pants, her favorite TCU t-shirt with an unbuttoned, thread-bare flannel shirt that flapped open in the breeze. A sweater tied around her waist held the entire ensemble together. She usually wore her hair up in a loose ponytail, but this morning, her favorite trucker’s ball cap tried its best to conceal that she’d overslept and ran from the house in a hurry.
Agatha looked through her camera and zoomed in on their position to capture a panoramic perspective of the heavily wooded area. She photographed in quadrants to make sure she systematically captured every angle and element of the old crime scene.
“How’d you stumble upon this?” She asked Coil without removing the view finder from her eye.
Coil, who always looked like he’d just come off a dude ranch, brushed away at a spider’s web that had attached itself to his favorite denim shirt. He squinted across the horizon as he pointed to the other side of the gap. His Irish green eyes traced the route his son had taken two days earlier.
“Y’all know my youngest boy is an independent sort. He is also one heck of a motorcycle rider. I bring him out here on weekends to cut loose on the trails, but sometimes he fails to do as I say, and wanders into the wilds.”
“Sounds like a normal boy to me,” Hank said, chuckling.
“You’re right abo
ut that.” Coil dropped the heavy plastic bag he’d been shouldering and brushed the long, shaggy strands of dirty blonde hair behind his ears.
“Well, the boy was late coming back to the truck, but when he did get back, he was covered in mud and a little beat up. Seems that streak of broken earth was where he picked up the mud and left some skin in exchange.”
Agatha pointed her digital camera at the obvious slash in the ground and foliage.
“It was getting late,” Coil said. “So after he told me what happened and what he saw, I decided to come back out here Monday after work to check it out. To be honest, I didn’t rightly believe him. He’s been known to tell a tale or two to avoid the whippin’ spoon.”
“Whipping spoon?” Hank shrugged.
“Yeah. You never got one? Them belts don’t bring near the scare that a good old wooden kitchen spoon does. The same one has kept all of our kids straight. So you see, I figured he might’ve made it up about the bones and all. But when I did finally get around to satisfying my own curiosity, I saw it for myself.”
“How did you manage to sleep knowing this was lying out here in the open?” Agatha questioned.
“It’s already been here a long time. Why would I think anyone might bother it overnight?” Coil asked. He lifted his Stetson and swiped his wrist against his forehead. “Besides, the rattlesnakes are getting more active and the last place I wanted to be as the sun fell was right here.”
Agatha almost lifted both feet from the ground at the same time. “Snakes?”
“I sure hope for your sake there aren’t any snakes out here,” Hank said as he withdrew his new .45 caliber pistol. “ I’m going to shoot it and then you.”
“Y’all relax,” Coil said, laughing. “They can sense fear.”
Agatha wasn’t laughing.
“If you’re done snapping nature photography, I’d like to go down and take a look,” Hank said.
Agatha stuck out her tongue at him and let her camera drop against her chest.
While Coil seemed to navigate the slippery canopy of leaves, branches, and mud just fine in his favorite cowboy boots, Agatha managed to windmill her way down with all the grace of a camel wearing ice skates. But at least she ended up on two feet instead of her rear end.
