Mistletoe & Misdemeanors (a Jamie Winters Mysteries holiday short story)

by Kelly Rey

  "Maybe he went in the back," Maizy said. "Maybe he's a janitor or something, not a customer."

  I stopped in my tracks. I hadn't thought of that.

  "Why don't you go check," Maizy said, "and I'll just finish up that game of eight ball." She made a move for the entrance, and I grabbed her arm. "Why don't you go check, while I wait by his car. And do not go back inside that bar."

  She shook her head. "If this is what happens to you. I don't want to get old," she said, but she went to check anyway. She was back less than five minutes later. "No green men. Just a couple of guys in dirty white aprons." We walked toward my car. "They ought to put sun lamps in this place," she said. "They didn't look too healthy."

  I glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

  She shrugged. "The smaller guy had a weird skin tone. Kind of—"

  I stopped. "Greenish?"

  We traded looks, and without a word, we turned around and headed for the bar. The back door stood open to compensate for the heat of the kitchen, giving us a clear view inside through the screen door. Maizy was right—neither guy was Speedo material. The heavier one stood over the grill, sweating onto some hamburger patties. But the skinny one caught my eye. He was behind a broom, pushing dirt around in little billowing puffs. He had the same hunched posture and skittish movements as the green man at the mall. And he looked like he'd showered in lime juice. He wasn't paying much attention to the sweeping. He kept glancing over his shoulder while the bigger guy kept firing phrases like "useless piece of crap" and "whyn't you do something with your life" at him.

  I tugged gently at the screen door. Locked. "That's him," I whispered. "The suit must've bled." No answer. I glanced to my left. Maizy was gone.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  "I don't know what you're so bent about," she said a few minutes later, after she'd pocketed her eight ball winnings. "This'll pay for all the gas we need to drive around to the hospitals instead of—"

  "It's a quarter a game," I told her. "You played one game."

  "So far," she agreed. "But the day is young."

  "So are you." I took her cue stick. "Your table," I told the eighty-something who was waiting on the side. He peered at me through thick bifocals. "I want to play her." He pointed a shaking finger in Maizy's direction.

  "No problem," Maizy said cheerfully, making a move for the rack.

  "Big problem," I snapped. "You are not playing any more pool. We have to go talk to the green man."

  She pulled an exaggerated sigh and threw up her hands.

  "You oughta let your daughter have a little fun once in awhile," the geezer told me.

  Now, that cut it. I stormed over to the bar, dragging Maizy along with me, before I bonked the creep in the head with a billiard ball. I ordered two sodas, and we sat on the two stools nearest the door to the kitchen. "Here's the plan," I told her. "I'm going to sneak into the kitchen and see if I can ask the green man some questions. You be my lookout."

  Maizy rolled her eyes. "Why do you have to make everything so complicated?"

  Know-it-all. "I suppose you have a better idea?"

  "Wait for it," she said, and turned a full-wattage smile on the bartender when he delivered our sodas. "Is it too early for me to get a burger and fries?"

  "Course not." He wiped his hands on the towel draped over his shoulder. "I'll put it in right away. Does Mom want something?" And he looked at me.

  If it wasn't for my bad ankle, I'd have run right behind that bar and kicked him in the shin. "What's with all this Mom crap?" I huffed. "I'm only thir—I'm too young to be her mother!"

  He took a step back, his hands going up in apology.

  "I'm sorry about that," Maizy told him. "Menopause."

  He nodded, shrugged, ran the towel across his forehead, and fled into the kitchen in case it was catching.

  Maizy turned to me. "That's how you do it."

  I ignored her. Too busy stewing in my own non-menopausal juices. Sure, my jeans and sweatshirt were loose-fitting, but that's only because I was built like a cue stick. Spandex would have been loose-fitting on me. But clearly I was doing something wrong. After we found Jack, I was going to have to invest in a complete overhaul.

  "I want you to know I'm having a really good time," she said, very softly.

  Yeah, yeah. Whatever.

  She tapped me on the forearm. "Did I do something wrong? Are you mad at me?"

  I glanced at her. "No, you—well, yes, you did, but no, not really." I sighed. "I just don't see how this is going to help—"

  The kitchen door swung open, and the green man scuttled through, carrying a plate loaded with Maizy's burger and fries. She lifted her hand, and he skidded to a stop in front of us. Maizy slid me a sideways grin. I had to hand it to her. The kid could think on her feet.

  "Can I ask you something?" I said before he bolted.

  He cut his eyes to me. He had deep brown eyes, nearly black, under dark eyebrows. He wasn't bad looking, except for that green thing. "You want to know why I'm green."

  I blinked. "That's not what I was going to ask."

  "Why are you green?" Maizy asked him, chomping on a fry. I probably shouldn't let her eat that food, considering it had marinated in a cloud of dust.

  "It's an allergic reaction," he said.

  Obviously not to other peoples' money.

  "To what?" she asked.

  "Well, that's rude," he told her. "Don't you know better than to ask strangers personal questions?" He turned to me. "Why don't you teach your—"

  "Don't say it," I warned him. "I don't want to hear that word come out of your mouth."

  "Why's that rude?" Maizy asked. "You're green, dude. Like nobody's supposed to notice?"

  "Oh yeah?" He leaned his elbows on the bar. "Well, your hair's blue. Why's your hair blue?"

  She smirked. "It's an allergic reaction. To jerks."

  A red flush flowed up under all that green. He pushed himself upright. I stood up and stepped closer to Maizy. "I saw what you did," I told him, keeping my voice low. "At the mall. Stealing those people's money."

  He turned those nearly black eyes on me. "What are you talking about?"

  "You were wearing a green Morphsuit. With a Santa hat. And you were handing out candy canes." I took a breath. "And you stole that El Camino out in the parking lot, too."

  "Did not," he shot back. "My brother Dino gave me that El Camino when I graduated from vo-tech." He snorted. "Some gift. It needed a new tranny. I just got it running."

  Not sure that I believed in the incredible coincidence of two red El Caminos, but I let that slide for the moment. "What about stealing the money?"

  "I never go to the mall. I'm a dude. Dudes hate malls." He clapped a hand to his heart. "And I would never steal anything from anyone, especially at Christmas time." He ran a finger under his eye. Another minute and he'd be whipping out a hanky.

  Someone yelled from the kitchen "Algae!"

  "Look, I gotta get back to work." He gave the bar two quick knuckle raps. "It's been charming. Hope you find what you're looking for." And he skittered back to the kitchen, trailing a nasty, little laugh.

  Maizy and I looked at each other. "Algae?" she said.

  I shrugged. "You gotta admit—it suits him."

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Just in case Algae's brother had actually given him the El Camino, I decided not to call the police. Instead, I jotted down the license plate number before we headed off to the area hospitals. Checking the hospitals didn't take as long as I'd expected because Jack wasn't a registered patient in any of them. We were out of ideas by early afternoon. Since Maizy had left most of her North Pole food untouched, we stopped at The Lucky Wok for some take-out and were back at my apartment by two.

  "We never talked to the mall Santa Claus," Maizy reminded me as we trudged up the stairs.

  I nodded. "Algae distracted me. We'll have to go back. I think—" I stopped, staring over into Jack's backyard. "Oh, look at that."

  Maizy took a glance. "It's a
deer. So what?"

  "I've never seen deer in this neighborhood." I watched it meander, alternately poking its nose through the snow and lifting its head to look around. "Doesn't it seem like he's looking for something?"

  Another deer emerged from the stand of trees at the property line and came to join the first. They put their heads together briefly, then both looked directly up at us. A shiver ran up my spine. Something felt way off here.

  "He was looking for his woman," Maizy said with a little smile.

  "They're both bucks."

  She shrugged. "It's a new world."

  I gave them a final lingering look, which they returned with unwavering black eyes, and we went inside to inhale the beef with broccoli and chicken in garlic sauce, along with a tub of wonton soup and lots of fortune cookies. We were just finishing up when someone knocked on the door. The way it was going, it was probably the bucks.

  I left Maizy to gather our empty containers while I opened the door to find one of Santa's elves on the landing. A middle-aged one, judging by the fine lines. Still, he was four feet of adorableness, with a fringe of blond curly hair sticking out from under a stocking cap and bright blue eyes. He was wearing red leggings and shoes with upturned toes and bells attached. His cheeks were pink from the cold. "Jamie Winters? I'm Pete Angelino. Jack's son." He had a firm handshake for such a little elf. "I'm looking for my father, and I was hoping you might have seen him recently."

  I couldn't stop staring.

  He sighed. "You think I'm a crackpot, don't you."

  "No, of course not." I shook my head without taking my eyes off the crackpot. "Why would I think that? Elves drop in all the time."

  His smile was as adorable as the rest of him. "I'm an actor with a touring company doing Night Before Christmas. Guess I should've changed first, but I was in a hurry."

  Something about him made me want to scoop him up in a giant hug. "So you really are Jack's son?"

  "Cross my heart," he said solemnly.

  I glanced at Jack's house. A third buck had assembled in the backyard. All three were standing at attention, watching us intently. Weird.

  "Would you like to come in?" I pushed the storm door open. "I have hot chocolate if you'd like some."

  "That'd be great, thanks."

  I made the introductions while he shucked his coat, trying not to stare when he pulled off the stocking cap. His ears were pointed. I'd only seen pointed ears on Spock. But I was seeing a lot of unusual things in the last two days. Probably they were fake ears, part of his costume for the play. That's what I was going with.

  He wrapped his plump little hands around a hot mug. "How did you injure yourself?"

  I blinked. "What?"

  "Your ankle."

  Maizy's eyes widened. So did mine. The intense aching had lessened throughout the day, and I'd thought I was walking normally again. "It's nothing," I told him. "I just slipped on the stairs outside." I hesitated. "How did you know?"

  "You're limping a little."

  I was pretty sure I wasn't, but there was no point in arguing it. We took our mugs of hot chocolate into the relative comfort of my living room, the bells on his shoes jingling when he walked. I glanced at Maizy. She was staring at him with utter fascination. I caught her eye and did a very slight head shake. She rolled her eyes and mouthed Duh.

  When we had all taken seats, he turned to me with a grave expression. "Do you remember the last time you saw my dad?"

  I tried to think. It was hard to concentrate under an elf interrogation. "It has to be over a week. He was putting ice melt on his front walk. I remember he was excited because we were expecting a white Christmas."

  Pete gave a small smile. "Dad loves to have snow on Christmas. He says it makes things so much easier." The smile faded. "He was supposed to be at our house on the twenty-first. But he never showed up."

  "It's only the twenty-third," I said. "Maybe he stopped to visit another relative first?"

  "Maybe." Doubt was clear in his voice. "He didn't mention anything about that, and no one's seen him. Although he does have an old buddy he likes to visit now and then. I think he lives somewhere in New York state. Rudy something or other." He shook his head. "I don't like the idea of Dad driving anymore. He's slowed down a little recently."

  I put my hot chocolate down on the coffee table. "Curt mentioned he's showing signs of dementia?"

  "Not officially," Pete said. "He refuses to go to the doctor. I don't understand it—he's usually so jolly and agreeable. It's not like him to be fearful." He pushed himself off the edge of the recliner and went over to the window overlooking his father's house.

  Maizy scooched closer to me on the sofa. "His dad is Santa Claus," she whispered.

  "That's not funny," I whispered back. "Jack is a sweet old man—"

  "Who thinks snow makes everything easier," she cut in. "Sure he does. He drives a sleigh!"

  "Last night he drove an El Camino, remember?"

  She shrugged. "Hard to drive a sleigh in July." She glanced at Pete, whose back was to us. "Think about it. He's jolly. He has a friend named Rudy. Rudy. That ring any bells? And let's face it, his kid's an elf."

  "That is really not nice," I snapped in a definite non-whisper.

  Pete turned around, "Sorry?"

  I stood up. "I'm sorry I haven't seen your father. Honestly, I've been looking for him myself."

  "With my help," Maizy added. "We're a team."

  Pete's gaze flicked to Maizy. "You're a good girl to concern yourself with the welfare of others."

  She did an embarrassed little toe-kick at the carpet. "Well, I'm on Christmas break."

  "And you decorate a tree beautifully," he added.

  "How did you—" She caught herself, but she was clearly a little freaked out.

  So was I. "How did you know Maizy decorated the tree?"

  He shrugged. "Lucky guess. She's full of good cheer." He fixed his gaze on me. "You, not so much."

  A surge of something like embarrassment, strangely near to guilt, tried to wash over me. It was blocked by the shock. "The holidays make me kind of melancholy. But how could you possibly know that?"

  "He's an elf," Maizy said.

  "Yes. I'm an elf." He studied Maizy in silence for a few seconds before turning back to the window. "How long have they been down there?"

  I moved closer to him. The bucks were still standing side by side, facing Curt's house, their coats gleaming. "They just showed up today. They're beautiful, aren't they?"

  "They look like giant dogs waiting for bones," he murmured. "But of course, dogs don't have antlers, do they." He turned away from the view. "I won't take any more of your time," he said abruptly. "I've got to get back to the theater. Thank you for talking with me and for trying to find Dad."

  Something zinged in my memory. "Please let me know if—when you find him," I said. "I care a lot about Jack."

  "I know you do." He shook my hand and looked again at Maizy. "I have a feeling Santa is going to be very kind to you this year, young lady."

  "I hope you find him," she told him in a grave tone.

  His expression grew more worried. "I have to. He has to be someplace very important tomorrow night."

  "I know," Maizy said soberly. "It's Christmas Eve."

  It came to me as soon as I shut the door behind him. I hurried back to the living room. And I was sure I wasn't limping. "Giant dogs!"

  Maizy had switched on the television to an episode of The Brady Bunch. The one where Greg and Marsha have an ultra slow motion driving competition. She looked up. "Huh?"

  "Pete said the bucks look like giant dogs with antlers. The guy at the North Pole said two giant dogs were outside watching Santa through the window." I gnawed on my lip, remembering. "I think he called them Thunder and Lightning."

  "Not very Christmasy," Maizy said. "What's wrong with Cupid and Comet and Masher and—"

  "There's no reindeer named Masher," I told her.

  "I think you're wrong." She whipped out her
cell phone. After a minute or two, she said, "Huh. Thunder and Lightning, you said?" She smiled. "Do the names Donder and Blitzen mean anything to you?"

  "Of course," I said. "But there's still no Masher."

  She held up her phone. I squinted at the tiny printing. It managed to get even smaller. I sighed. "What does it say?"

  She frowned. "It says Donder and Blitzen were bar-hopping with Santa Claus. Their names come from the Germanic thunder and lightning."

  My mouth fell open. "What does that mean?"

  "Beats me. I'm a kid, not a linguist."

  "Get your coat, kid," I told her, picking up the empty mugs. "We've got unfinished business at the North Pole."

  "Great!" She switched off the TV and jumped up. "Can I drive?"

  CHAPTER NINE

  Curt's Jeep was parked at the curb, so I left Maizy to snap a photo of the bucks with her cell phone while I knocked on his back door. He opened it wearing standard male snow hunk attire—faded blue jeans, hiking boots, and a black Under Armour shirt that molded to his body like hot wax and made me forget why I was there.

  He looked over my shoulder. "Hey, Jame. Been keeping the kid busy?"

  I snapped out of my lust-induced haze. "I like her. She's a smart girl."

  "She's an alien."

  That's what I thought. "What'd you get her for Christmas?" I asked.

  He frowned at me. "I got her a sweater. One that covers her stomach."

  Oh, boy. "You might want to rethink that," I told him. "Leave that sort of thing to her parents. Get her something fun."

  "Like what? A car?" He snorted.

  "Give it some thought," I said. "You might know her better than you think you do."

  "Yeah. Maybe." He stuck his hands in his pockets. "So what broke?"

  "Huh?"

  "Two times I know you're gonna knock on my door. One is when something breaks. Another is when you're hungry." His eyes narrowed. "Are you hungry?"

  I shook my head. "I need a favor." I found the piece of paper with Algae's license plate number on it. "Can you get me an address?"