by Kacey Gene
“Honey,” Eleanor says, softly putting her hand on Jennifer’s back, “perhaps you would like to take your guest to your room. Or somewhere more private.”
Jennifer nods at her mom, knowing that she’s right. Exposing Wendy to the slanted looks of the guests is not going to help Wendy or her upset state, so Jennifer and Jake lead Wendy out of the party spotlight. But rather than taking Wendy to her bedroom, Jennifer leads them all to the front foyer. She grabs her coat from the side closet and throws Jake his coat before she pushes the elevator button.
“It’s all my fault,” Wendy cries.
“I’m sure it’s not,” Jennifer says, wanting to calm her anyway she can.
“If I hadn’t taken that book from my dad, then none of this would be happening.” Wendy sniffles, and Jennifer rubs her back.
The elevator opens, and the three of them walk into it. When the elevator closes and the stares and sounds of the party finally disappear, Jennifer feels like she can break her silence.
“How do you know they were after the book?” Jennifer asks.
“I heard them,” Wendy says. “They didn’t know I was home. I was hiding even before they got there.”
Jake and Jennifer both throw Wendy a puzzled look. “Why were you hiding in your own home?” Jake asks.
“Junior had text saying he was coming to Chicago, and I knew my dad wouldn’t let me see him because he hates Junior, so I hid in the closet in my dad’s study.”
Jennifer and Jake’s puzzled looks continue. “Why did you hide in the closet in your dad’s study?” Jennifer asks.
“There’s a fire escape out the window of my dad’s study, so that’s where I sneak out. But when I was hiding, two men brought my dad in,” Wendy says, her eyes growing big with panic as she relives the memory. “They kept saying, ‘show us where it’s at,’ and my dad went to the exact spot where he kept that book. But it wasn’t there...” her voice trails off and sobs replace her words. Finally she slips out, “He couldn’t find the book because I had taken it last year without him knowing.” Her sobs and tears rip out of her. “So they hit him over the head, and then took him.”
Jennifer’s heart breaks as she sees how guilty and worried Wendy is. She throws her arms around her and tries to soothe her with a strong hug and by telling her it’s going to be okay.
“But it’s not going to be okay,” Wendy cries. “Junior told me what they did to those other men. The other Santas.”
Jennifer’s eyes shoot up to Jake. “Was your dad a Santa?” Jennifer asks, trying not to let the panic in her voice show too much.
Wendy nods. “He did it as a favor to my grandfather,” she says. “The last year Diamonts was open he played Santa.” Wendy’s tear-soaked eyes look up at Jennifer. “That’s why I took the book,” Wendy confesses as she looks down at her fidgeting fingers. “He was so upset when Diamonts closed that I didn’t want him reminded of those days, and Alexa was always going on and on about how much she wanted one of those books. She’s the one who told me about the editions, so when I gave it to her, I thought it was a win-win.”
The elevator doors open, and Jennifer takes Wendy softly by the hand, but she also hastily moves down the corridor toward the front lobby. She wants to get to Junior and find out what he knows. Because he knows something. And for some reason, Sharb thought Junior was the guilty one, so Jennifer is determined to get some answers.
They get to the lobby, and Jennifer sees that the front desk is empty. Mrs. B is no longer there. Instead, she is squatting down next to the two dogs Junior has at the ends of the leashes he’s holding.
“Eb,” Jennifer lets out, not able to contain herself when she sees the little golden lab. Although he’s sitting calmly right next to the golden retriever, who Mrs. B is petting, Eb jumps into action when he hears Jennifer’s voice. He yips and scurries into place trying to get to her.
Running over to him, Jennifer scoops him up in her arms and lets him lick her neck and face. When he’s had his fill, and burrowed himself comfortably in her arms, Jennifer turns her eyes on Junior.
“You need to start talking,” Jennifer says, her voice surprisingly calm. The only time Jennifer gets stern is when she knows she’s been lied to or someone has withheld information from her. She’s not sure which one is true when it comes to Junior, but she knows it’s one of them. Yet, with Eb in her arms, she feels like love is baking through her, so her sternness doesn’t bubble to the surface.
“I’m sorry,” Junior says. “I thought I’d be in trouble if I confessed.”
“Confessed to what?” Jake asks, but Junior’s eyes fall on Mrs. B, who is still petting the golden retriever that has stationed herself right next to Jake’s leg again. Whatever Junior wants to say, he doesn’t want to say it in front of Mrs. B. “How about we go outside and talk,” Jake says.
Mrs. B waves goodbye to the dogs as they all make their way out to the front of the building.
“Okay,” Jake says, reaching down and petting the retriever who refuses to leave his side. “Start talking.”
“You both know that I burned the Dickens books at Fred’s house,” Junior says, and then he turns his sight right on Jennifer. “What you don’t know is that I was the one who launched the pudding at your windows.”
“What?” Jennifer asks, completely shocked.
“There’s more,” Junior says, hesitantly. “I also filled your parking space with the pudding.” Then he turns to Jake, “And I was planting pudding bombs below your windows before you all came and got me.”
“I hate pudding,” Jake says.
Now Jennifer understands why Sharb thought Junior was at least somewhat guilty for the crimes. Because he is guilty for part of the crimes.
“Why would you do that?” Jennifer asks.
“Because I was told that if I didn’t, me and my dogs were going to pay for it.”
“What do you mean ‘your dogs?’” Jake asks. “What’s the situation with these dogs?”
“That’s what I was trying to tell you when we went to Ebenezer’s Home,” Junior says, “before the whole cop situation. I was lousy as a Santa, but I seem to have a knack when it comes to dogs,” he says, reaching out and petting Eb’s head, who rests quietly in Jennifer’s arms.
Eb licks Junior’s hand and then scurries back over into Junior’s arms.
“Fred saw that I bonded with dogs, and he saw how much I loved them and how much they gave back to me.” Junior kisses the top of Eb’s head. “I wanted to give that love to other people, so Fred and I opened a dog therapy school. We train dogs to be therapy dogs, just like Lucy here,” Junior says, nodding at the golden retriever whose big brown eyes are gazing up at Jake. “Fred said Ebenezer’s Home would be the headquarters for the dog therapy school, but then he died, and I started getting threats that if I didn’t stop you and Jake that I’d lose everything.”
“Who told you that?” Jennifer asks.
Junior shrugs. “I never met her,” Junior says. “But I saw what she did to Fred and Earl, so I knew she wasn’t bluffing.”
“Her?” Jake asks. “You’re sure it was a woman?”
Junior nods.
“It wasn’t John Diamont?” Jennifer asks, wanting to make sure Junior is 100 percent positive.
“John?” Wendy asks. “What does my uncle have to do with this?”
“No, I’ve met John,” Junior chimes in. “The person who called me and told me where to pick up the pudding was definitely a woman.”
Jake and Jennifer look at one another, and the same fear moves across their faces -- what if the man they thought had everything to do with these murders is just a pawn. Or at the very least a smaller player than they imagined.
“I need to go call Erin and update her,” Jake says, looking straight at Jennifer. She nods at him, but when Jake tries to walk away and find a quiet spot to call Erin, the golden retriever, Lucy, whimpers and barks at him.
“She wants to stay with you,” Junior says, handing Jake the leash. �
�Actually,” Junior says, “can you take Eb too? He’s in training and needs to see how Lucy walks on a leash.”
“Why not?” Jake says, more worried than frustrated. He takes both leashes and ventures down the front of the building to make his call.
His back is turned to them, but it’s Junior’s face Jennifer zooms in on. It’s stark white. His eyes grow big, and she can hear that his breath is shaking. When Jennifer looks at Wendy, she sees the same thing. Something has them spooked, but before Jennifer can ask a question or do anything, she feels a whoosh come over her, and then she’s blinded.
Someone has thrown a piece of soft, red velvet fabric over her head, and they’re tightening it around Jennifer’s throat.
“No one move or she dies,” the voice behind her says. It’s a woman’s voice, one that Jennifer can’t place but she knows she’s heard before.
Jennifer wants to yell for Jake. She wants to fight, but then she feels the blunt object against her back. It’s a gun. She knows it’s a gun. So when the breath of the woman behind her comes right by her ear and says, “Start walking,” Jennifer starts walking.
Jennifer can’t see a thing except for the red fabric that’s covering her face, so her steps wobble. Until finally, she’s thrown into a car. Within seconds, her wrists are cuffed together with duct tape and she’s strapped into the seat with a seat belt. She hears the whimperings of Wendy and Junior in the back of the car.
There’s more than just this woman, Jennifer decides. That’s the only explanation for how all three of them are shoved into the same car and bound. If she could only see what was taking place, but this hot, red hood is keeping her blinded.
And then suddenly, the hood comes off. Jennifer feels the cold air hit her face, but before she can open her mouth, there’s a large piece of duct tape put right over it. Yet, that doesn’t stop Jennifer from mentally saying the name of the woman doing this to her.
Alexa.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Here Comes Santa Claus
Alexa doesn’t say a word as they pull away. Jennifer keeps looking in the backseat at Junior and Wendy. They have tape around their wrists and across their mouths like she does, and they’re also locked in place by their seatbelts. Jennifer tries to give them looks that say, “Don’t worry. We’re going to be okay,” but she can see that they’re too scared to believe her.
In fact, Jennifer is too scared to even believe herself.
After a few turns and only about two minutes in the car, Alexa pulls into the parking lot of a warehouse. It’s maybe four blocks away from Jennifer’s mom’s place. The parking lot is empty except for one other car. A black car. With tinted windows. And Jennifer instantly recognizes it. It’s the car that tried to run her and Jake off the road; the only difference is that it doesn’t have the Pelznickel license plate.
Two men get out of that car, but it’s too dark for Jennifer to see who they are. They approach Alexa’s side of the car. She points them toward the backseat, and that’s where they go while Alexa gets out and moves to the passenger side of the car. When she opens Jennifer’s car door, Jennifer wiggles and fights, not wanting Alexa to touch her.
But it’s of no use. Alexa has the advantage of having two free hands, so she easily unbuckles Jennifer’s seatbelt, grabs her arms, and yanks her from the car. Alexa is athletic, something Jennifer noticed when they first met, and Jennifer’s vulnerable state is no match for Alexa’s strong one.
“Let’s take them inside,” Alexa says, and Jennifer’s mind goes on hyper-observation mode as they walk through a side door of the warehouse.
The walls of the warehouse are all corrugated sheet metal that is different shades of rusted red and orange. The windows are sparse, but when they’re present they’re large and have single-pane glass in them. There are large stainless steel vats spaced all throughout the warehouse, and the ceiling is open rafters, but there are also mechanical arms hanging from the ceiling. At the end of each of those mechanical arms is a paddle, like the one on Jennifer’s mixer that she uses to make cookies. But it’s the smell that Jennifer observes the most. The place smells like hazelnut and milk with just a small hint of brewed coffee. It smells like Fred Gailey’s kitchen. It smells like pudding.
“Well. Well. Well,” a voice says from the side. “We finally meet.”
Jennifer turns to look at where the voice is coming from, and she can barely believe what she’s seeing.
There in front of her stands a man, fully dressed -- from head to toe -- in a Santa suit. And not just any Santa suit. It’s the same extravagant suit Jennifer found hanging in Earl’s closet.
“What do you think?” the man asks, twirling and then moving close to Jennifer. “They always called me Ebenezer, but I think I make a much better Santa than any of them.”
And that’s when Jennifer sees the man’s face. But it’s not his pointed nose or bushy grey eyebrows that catch her notice, it’s his cloudy blue eyes. They’re so circular that they look like a fish’s eyes. She’s only seen those eyes one other time before -- on Fred Gailey. That’s when Jennifer knows. The man standing in front of her is Fred’s brother.
“I can see your wheels turning,” the man says, playfully pointing at Jennifer. “You’ve figured it out, haven’t you?” he says with a grinch-like grin. “I love this girl,” the man says looking over at two men who are holding Junior and Wendy. “She pieces everything together, even my slay of the Santas. You get it?” he says turning his eyes back on Jennifer. He grabs the corner of the duct tape that’s across her mouth. “Show how smart you are and tell everyone here who I am.” He rips the tape off her mouth.
Jennifer’s eyes sting from the pain, but she refuses to whimper. Instead, she looks the man straight in the eyes and says, “You’re Fred Gailey’s evil brother.”
The man claps his hands together and releases a giant laugh. “His ‘evil brother,’ do you hear this girl?” he says, acting like he’s putting on a show. “But you’re right, my little detective,” he says roughing up her hair. “I am Fred’s brother, but seeing as 1. Fred is dead and 2. I hate my brother, I don’t want to be associated with him. So you can call me Chris,” and then he gestures to his outfit. “You know, like Chris Kringle.”
He bursts out laughing at his own joke, but Jennifer is anything but amused. Her brain is on full capacity, trying to link these pieces together while also trying to figure out a way to get her, Wendy, and Junior out of here safely.
“Baby,” Alexa says, getting Chris’s attention. “Where do you want them?”
Chris looks up at Alexa, but before he answers her, he pulls down his Santa beard, leans over, and kisses her. Alexa kisses him back, but it’s not just a simple kiss. It’s a kiss of love. Of devotion. And when Chris pulls away and says, “Put them with Bobby,” Jennifer sees that Alexa’s kiss was also one of obsession. She’s under this man’s control.
Alexa pushes Jennifer, forcing her to move.
“You don’t have to do this,” Jennifer says, feeling her fear start to coat all parts of her brain. Alexa pulls Jennifer toward a large stainless steel vat that sits in the middle of the warehouse. The other men follow suit, bringing Junior and Wendy with them. “You could let us go,” Jennifer says, hearing the plea in her voice.
“Shut up,” Alexa says. “You don’t understand.”
“It’s true,” Jennifer frantically says. “I don’t understand. Explain it to me.” Jennifer isn’t asking these things to stall time, she truly doesn't understand how or why Alexa is involved in this. Or how Chris Gailey fits in with the books or Robert Diamont’s will. And, most of all, she doesn’t understand why Chris Gailey is dressed as Santa.
“You think I want to work in that mole hole of an office all my life?” Alexa asks, gripping Jennifer’s arm tightly and pulling her in the direction she wants. “Chris is going to get us millions.”
Jennifer is about to ask her how, but then they turn the corner. They’re behind a steel vat, and that’s when Jennifer sees
a man taped down to a folding chair with his wrists and mouth also taped.
Who’s this? Jennifer thinks.
That’s when Jennifer hears Wendy scream, even though it gets trapped in the duct tape covering her mouth. Wendy fights and tries to squirm free from the man holding her. She keeps her eyes on the man in the chair, and Jennifer sees that Wendy wants to go to him. It becomes clear to Jennifer that the man in the chair must be Wendy’s father.
Within minutes, all four of them -- Jennifer, Junior, Wendy, and Wendy’s dad -- are strapped to their folding chairs and Chris Gailey is standing in front of them like he’s on stage.
“Not going to call me Ebenezer behind my back anymore, are you, Bobby?” Chris says, moving right in front of Wendy’s dad’s face, taunting him. “Now I’m the one who gets to play Santa.”
That’s when Jennifer sees the cuts on Bobby’s arms. Immediately her mind flashes back to Earl, and she knows what will happen next. Chris is going to put pudding in those cuts. The pudding that’s laced with cyanide. And Jennifer can’t let that happen.
“You look ridiculous,” Jennifer yells, needing to distract Chris. And it works. He turns his icy stare on her. He doesn’t say a word, but he slowly shuffles over to Jennifer, puts his hands on the sides of her chair and leans in so his face is only inches away from hers.
“Oh, you think I look ridiculous, huh?” Chris says, and then he turns to Alexa. “Love, could you bring me a bowl of pudding?”
And she does. After climbing up the steps that are stationed on the steel vat like a spine, she walks on the catwalk that surrounds the top of the vat. She disappears for a moment, and then Alexa comes down with a large bowl of pudding.
It’s official, Jennifer thinks. I’m in a pudding factory. Then, the darkest thoughts run through Jennifer’s mind. What if that pudding Alexa is carrying has cyanide in it? What if Chris forces her to eat it? What if he forces them all to eat it?
But when Chris takes the pudding from Alexa, he dips his finger in the bowl and licks the pudding right off of it. “You know, I may have been left with this financial dump of a pudding factory while Fred, my lucky-as-can-be dead brother got the lucrative printing presses in our family, but now I’m really starting to like this place. I mean, at least it has snacks.” He smiles, but then his smile fades. He looks straight at Jennifer. “You were saying something about me looking ridiculous.”
