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

by Kelly Rey

  Her eyes got wide. "I heard that."

  I hesitated. "It's probably a rat, right?"

  "Yeah. Right." She kicked and pounded at the door. "Who's in there?" she yelled.

  "Hey!" I grabbed her arm. "What if it's some maniac homeless person? We're out here in the middle of nowhere!"

  "If he lives here," she said with great patience, "he's not homeless. Give me a second." She squatted down and muttered, "What an amateur," and went to work with her tiny tools again. A few minutes later, she tossed me the lock. "No problem at all."

  "Maybe it should be," I said. I tugged at the handle again. The door rattled halfway up its track, and we bent in unison to take a look inside.

  Jack Angelino, sitting in a ratty old recliner, looked back at us.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  His cheeks were still pink. But his eyes were a little haggard, and his smile had dimmed. When I hugged him, I felt a little less cushion and felt a surge of anger that he'd been locked in there. I took a look around. Along with the recliner, there was a fluorescent overhead light fixture, a few heavy blankets, a space heater, some tools, a discarded car cover, an ice chest with bottles of water, a storage bin with bags of junk food, and a stack of Donald E. Westlake novels. No Santa suit. Jack was wearing a heavy red cable-knit sweater, suitable for going out to sea if not going down chimneys. No sign of a Santa suit. I'd guess that in a split-second of panicked sighting, the red sweater might be mistaken for something else.

  I stepped back from him. "Jack, who did this to you?"

  He ignored the question. "Have I missed Christmas?"

  "Tonight is Christmas Eve," I told him. "Who locked you in here? Was it the green man?"

  "That's not important. I'm alive and well. But I need your help." He glanced at Maizy. "You've done enough, Maizy. But may I ask you to do more?"

  "How'd you know my name?" she asked, her face pale.

  He seemed surprised. "Why, your uncle has told me all about you. He thinks you're quite unique. Now that I see you, I have to agree." His laughter echoed off the walls of the bay. Jack had always had a good laugh, but now I found myself listening to it with a different ear. An ear looking for ho-ho-ho instead of ha-ha-ha. Naturally, I didn't hear it, because of course, Jack was just my wonderful old ordinary next door neighbor.

  "My car is outside the gates," I told him. "Do you think you can walk?"

  "Of course. I'm not an old man, you know."

  "I know who stole your car," I said as I helped him with his coat. "His name is Algae. He kind of works at the North Pole bar."

  "Maybe," Maizy added. "Nothing's turning out to be quite what it seems this weekend."

  "The way of life," Jack agreed. He made a courtly after you gesture. "Shall we?"

  I stepped into the alley and stopped cold in my tracks. Four bucks were standing along the outside of the fence, watching us. "Do you see what I see?" I kept my voice low. I didn't want to spook them and make them bolt. I don't know why I didn't want to do that, but it seemed significant that they kept showing up.

  Maizy was right behind me. "We've got company," she said.

  "They keep showing up," I said with wonder.

  "We've got company," Maizy repeated, but with an urgency in her tone that made me look at her. She was looking at something down the alley. More specifically, someone. Algae. In the full green Morphsuit that clung to every unfortunate angle of his spindly body. He was scurrying along like a hunchbacked water beetle, carrying a McDonald's bag in one hand and a gun in the other. He stutter-stepped when he caught sight of the three of us standing there.

  "Oh, dear," Jack said over my shoulder. "Him again."

  Maizy pressed up against my back. I could hear that her breathing was ragged with fear. I felt sick about putting her in this position. I couldn't let her be locked in the bay, disappearing from her family at Christmas. I couldn't let Jack continue to be victimized. I knew I didn't want to go back inside the unit.

  I had no clue how to prevent it. I peeked over my shoulder. The bucks had disappeared.

  Algae was on us in seconds, waggling the gun. "Back inside. All of you. Before I blast you."

  It was hard to argue with a gun, so we shuffled back inside, so close together that we moved as one awkward unit. Jack somehow managed to become the head of our little triangle, so that when we stopped, as close to the open doorway as we dared, he was closest to Algae's gun. Algae followed us, tossing the McDonald's bag on the recliner.

  "You're not a killer," I told him. Like I would know. "So you stole a car. Big deal. We can let that slide, right, Jack?"

  "What car?" he agreed.

  "You know," Algae said sadly, "you're making my life very difficult."

  "I can make it easier," I told him. "We'll just go on our way, and you can keep the car and we'll call it even."

  "The car's all I wanted!" he snapped, startling us. Maizy's hand crept into mine at my side. She was shaking. "I didn't want the old man. It was the payload. That's where the money was gonna be. All of it right there in front of me. I had buyers for everything. It shoulda been so easy, but he wouldn't give it up. He wouldn't get out!"

  I stared at Jack. He shrugged. "I was hauling a lot of gifts."

  "So you locked him up?" I said to Algae, outraged. "When did you plan to let him go?"

  "Soon as I got the ransom." His nasty grin was even eerier coated in the Morphsuit. "He gave me the perfect opportunity for an even bigger payoff when he stayed in the car. But the old coot don't even remember his own name!"

  I glanced at the old coot. He slipped me a wink that told me he remembered a lot more than his name. He'd been playing Algae all along. I don't know if I could have been that sharp.

  "But why lock him up here?" I persisted. "Why in a closed storage facility? You could have killed him!"

  "There's still time," he said with sickening cheer. And then I realized, he'd stolen money to buy just enough food to keep Jack alive long enough to collect ransom. Maybe he was a killer, after all. "I needed a place to stash the goods temporarily," he said. "My no-good brother Dino wanted nothin' to do with any of it. Not in my home, he tells me. Too afraid he'll end up at the big house. Pops here had this place. Problem solved."

  Dino? Dino from the North Pole? I remembered Dino standing at the stove hurling curses in Algae's direction. No wonder. "You don't work at the North Pole," I said suddenly. "Your brother does. You drove there because we were following you, and he didn't like it."

  "He's a pansy," Algae snapped. "Always afraid of trouble. He'll never be nothin'."

  "You don't have to be like him," I said quietly. "Jack's never seen your face. That's why you wear that thing, right? He doesn't know who you are. Why don't you just let him go."

  "Wish I could," Algae said cheerfully. "But you two have seen my face. So no Christmas for you this year. Now." He swung the gun in Jack's direction. "I'll ask you once more, old man. Who would be willing to pay to see you again? I want a name."

  "Is the turkey ready?" Jack asked. "I smell cranberry sauce. Did you make the stuffing?"

  The gun wavered slightly. "Huh?"

  "Grandpa's coming to dinner this year," Jack said. "He's bringing presents. I love presents. Don't you love presents?"

  "I never got no presents," Algae said. "I hate Christmas."

  "Everybody loves presents," Jack said. "Presents, presents, presents." He did a little soft shoe, subtly moving deeper inside the bay, farther away from Maizy and me. "See, I'm a good dancer," he announced. "Elsie wouldn't go to the cotillion with me Saturday night 'cause she said I couldn't dance." He slid a sideways look my way, and his eyes flicked to the door.

  He didn't have to flick twice. But if he thought I was going to leave him there, he really was a crazy old coot. I'd figure out something, even if I had to run Algae down with his stolen El Camino. I edged minutely toward the opening. Maizy inched along with me, still squeezing my hand.

  "Nut job," Algae muttered. "What, you think you're Fred Astaire no
w?"

  "He's the Grinch," Maizy whispered in my ear, her voice thin with terror. "He steals Christmas."

  "Not if I can help it," I said grimly. "Move!"

  We turned and broke into a dead run.

  And ran straight into the entire police department in strategic positions outside with a couple dozen guns pointed our way. A few of them gave us the sign to keep moving, but I didn't need it. I had no plans to stop, maybe ever. I ran through the front gates, right past my parked car, and kept on going.

  Maizy could drive.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  It turned out that Algae was actually Ulysses Wertz, and Ulysses Wertz had a rap sheet as long as his leg. He'd just managed to add a charge of kidnapping to his resume, so we wouldn't be seeing Algae again anytime soon.

  The next morning, Maizy and I were sitting at Curt's kitchen table, letting him feed us pancakes and bacon and toast while we tried not to reminisce about the weekend's events. "Pete plans to stop by to see you after the holidays," Curt said as he poured me a glass of orange juice. "For now, he plans to enjoy Christmas with his dad. Thanks to you two." He glanced at Maizy, who had changed her hair from blue to red for the occasion. It looked good on her. "I can't believe you were involved in all of this," he told her. He looked at me. "You, I believe."

  Nice knowing he held me in such high regard.

  "You know," he said, "it's a damn good thing you had to park the car outside the Silver Bells gate. Cam said that's how the patrol cops suspected something was going on in there since it's closed for the holidays."

  "I drove," Maizy said proudly.

  "Come to think of it, they did remark on the lousy park job." Curt smiled at her. He grew serious when he looked at me. "Pretty stupid of that low-life to hold Jack in his own storage unit. Poor old guy."

  "His brother wanted no part of it," I said. And I didn't know about Jack being a poor old guy. He'd put on a pretty convincing performance, but I suspected it was only a convenience, and he was still sharp as a tack. I was counting on it.

  "He needed our help," Maizy said, munching on a piece of toast. "It was cool. I got to drive and everything. Maybe next year I'll get a car for Christmas. A car would be cool. All my friends have—"

  Curt pushed an envelope across the table. "Merry Christmas, kid."

  She let out a very teenaged squeal. "Thanks, Uncle Curt! I'll save this to put towards a car. I swear I won't buy any more belly rings or anything. I already know what I—" She stopped abruptly, and her eyes got big when she shook a key out of the envelope. "What's this?"

  "What's it say?" Curt said, grinning.

  Her hand was trembling with excitement. "It says Honda."

  "How about that." He held up a second key. "So does this one. But the envelope says Maizy. Guess that means they're yours."

  Maizy flew out the back door, shrieking.

  "You bought her a car?" I asked him. "Really?"

  He shrugged. "I got to thinking maybe she's not seven years old anymore."

  I grinned. "You got to thinking that."

  "Maybe I got a little nudge." His eyes met mine. "Thanks for the nudge."

  I nodded. "So what'd you get her?"

  "Cam and I went in on a used Civic. She's earned it. And Cam wants to keep her out of that deathtrap you own."

  "I expect we'll be seeing a lot of Maizy around here now. Does that mean I get a Honda, too?"

  "Depends if you're naughty or nice," he said, his eyes setting on mine in a very naughty way.

  "Uncle Curt!" Maizy yelled from the driveway. "It's beautiful!"

  We heard an engine roar to life, and we bolted for the door to save Maizy from herself. But when we got to the driveway, she wasn't in the car. She was standing at its hood, staring into Jack Angelino's backyard, where the four bucks were standing motionless, staring back at her. Curt and I drew to a stop, and I heard Curt's sharp intake of breath. "I'll be damned. Have you ever seen anything like that?"

  Maizy and I traded grins. "Yep," I said.

  "Lots of times," Maizy added.

  As if they had heard us, the bucks suddenly bobbed their heads in unison a few times, turned, and sauntered off together into the trees. Maybe I was imagining it, but it felt like a thank you to me, and my eyes suddenly started stinging.

  "Huh." Curt turned to go back in the house and noticed my watery eyes. "What's up with you?"

  "Menopause," Maizy said. "Her emotions go haywire. It happens to old people."

  "Watch it with the old stuff," I told her. "You'll get there, toots."

  She giggled and gave me a hug. "Merry Christmas, Jamie."

  A horn blew from the curb.

  "That's your dad," Curt told her. "You go on, now. You can keep your car here until you get your license. That way I know I'll be seeing you again."

  "You'll be seeing me lots," she promised. She threw herself at him, and he wrapped her in a bear hug and kissed her cheek. "Merry Christmas, kid."

  We watched her hurry to a Prius waiting at the curb. Cam was behind the wheel, looking like Goliath in a little red wagon. "I thought your brother drove an Explorer," I said.

  Curt chuckled. "Maizy and her environmental conscience. He was so happy she wasn't hurt that he was ready to give her anything she wanted. He sold the damned thing."

  "Good." I smiled. "He could've fed a village for what he put out in gas every month."

  "Yeah, I heard that, too." He looked down at me. "Well, all's well that ends well. Almost."

  I got a funny hitch in my pulse. "Almost?"

  "Jack made me promise something. Come on." He took my hand and we headed over to Jack's house. Curt found the spare key and let us in the back door. The house was empty and quiet but also warm and welcoming now that I knew Jack was safe.

  "What are we doing?" I asked him. "Jack's not here. We don't have any reason to be here either."

  "I promised him," he said. "We have to go downstairs. He said he left us a gift."

  The basement was almost as we'd left it. The Christmas tree was still there, but its lights were on and twinkling and beautiful. The train set was still there, too, but now it was running, the little engine's horn tooting, warning bells clanging, and the tiny village alive with motion and light.

  "The toys are gone," I said. "How'd he finish the toys so fast?"

  "There were cars here all last night," Curt said. He grinned, showing his dimples. "He must've had the elves do it."

  That funny tingle ran up my spine again. I wasn't quite ready to joke about that yet. I took a look around and noticed a stack of paper on a box near the train station. "That wasn't there before. Someone must have forgotten it last night."

  "I'll get it to Jack." Curt picked it up and flipped through it. "Huh. This is weird."

  I strained to get a look. "What is it?"

  "A list of names." He frowned at it. "These people are from all over. Jack's got a hell of a mailing list."

  My heart started pounding. It wasn't a mailing list. It was Santa's naughty-or-nice list. And I bet I knew where I'd fall on that list. Wait until Maizy heard about this. I could hardly wait to tell her. This was more than beyond-the-veil stuff. This was beyond the veil and around the bend. "Is this what Jack wanted us to see?" I asked, my voice strangely high.

  Curt turned his frown to me. "What's wrong with your voice?"

  "Nothing. I'm just excited about Christmas," I said. "Ho, ho, ho."

  He stared at me for a second before he shrugged. "That must be it." He pointed to the single gift-wrapped box that had been on the table the last time we'd been there. Still no name tag, but Curt opened it anyway and looked inside. "What's this?"

  I reached inside and pulled out the contents. "It's a sprig of mistletoe," I said. "Jack left us a sprig of mistletoe?" I felt heat creeping up my neck and into my face. "What was he thinking?"

  "Same thing I was thinking." Curt took the mistletoe and held it over his head. "It's like he read my mind."

  Lot of that going around.


  "You had to have mistletoe to make your move?" I said. "Chicken."

  "I didn't have to," he said. "But it helps. Get over here. My arm's getting tired."

  "You romantic fool," I said, but I got over there. And when I got there, I stayed awhile, and to all, it was a good night.

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  From her first discovery of Nancy Drew, USA Today bestselling author Kelly Rey has had a lifelong love for mystery and tales of things that go bump in the night, especially those with a twist of humor. Through many years of working in the court reporting and closed captioning fields, writing has remained a constant. If she's not in front of a keyboard, she can be found reading, working out or avoiding housework. She's a member of Sisters in Crime and lives in the Northeast with her husband and a menagerie of very spoiled pets.

  To learn more about Kelly Rey, visit her online at: http://www.kellyreyauthor.com

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  BOOKS BY KELLY REY

  Jamie Winters Mysteries:

  Motion for Murder

  Mistletoe & Misdemeanors (holiday short story)

  Death of a Diva

  The Sassy Suspect

  Verdicts & Vixens

  A Playboy in Peril

  Marty Hudson Mysteries:

  Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Brash Blonde

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