The Santa Sleuth

by Heather MacAllister

  "I think we've got that covered," Amanda answered, gesturing at her production crew.

  The elf pressed closer to Virginia. "What are y'all doing?" She smiled at Amanda, Virginia, and especially the camera.

  "Taping." Pointing to an impatient mother juggling two toddlers and a package-laden stroller, Amanda added, "I think you have a customer."

  One eye on the camera, the elf waggled her fingers and reluctantly moved away.

  Obviously influenced by the elf, Virginia struck poses for Ron. She acted thrilled to discover fake icing on the gingerbread house, peered into the windows and laughed uproariously at the mechanical toy makers. Amanda let her get it out of her system off camera.

  Just before Virginia's turn with Santa came, Amanda whispered in her ear, "Remember, don't tell Santa what we're doing." As if Santa hadn't noticed a full production crew aiming a camera at him. But at least he wouldn't know he was being rated.

  "Okay," Virginia whispered back, giving Amanda a thumbs-up.

  Lights. Camera. "Hi, Santa!" Virginia shouted, blasting the sound meter.

  The technician, wearing headphones, frantically signaled. Amanda caught Virginia's attention and brought a finger to her lips.

  "Ho, ho, ho, little lady." Santa made a good effort, but his voice was no match for Virginia's. "Who're your friends?" Santa smiled at the camera.

  Behind the display, a group of preteens jumped up and down, waving their hands. Wonderful. Everybody wanted to break into show business.

  "Aren't you going to ask me what I want for Christmas?" Virginia tugged on Santa's beard. It slipped.

  "Sure," Santa replied and negligently readjusted his beard, then settled Virginia in his lap.

  She fingered the fuzzy lapel of his red suit, which looked grimy and cheap under the harsh glare of the lights. Next, she leaned over and looked toward the floor.

  Amanda followed her gaze. Santa wore brown hiking boots.

  "So, little girl, what can Santa bring you for Christmas?"

  Virginia eyed him doubtfully. Amanda didn't blame her. Santa spent more time beaming at the camera than paying attention to the child on his lap.

  This wasn't going to work. "Just a moment." Amanda stepped from behind the camera. "Santa, pretend we're not here. It's just you and Virginia." Amanda emphasized her name.

  "Oh, Virginia, is it? A pretty name for a pretty girl." He bounced her on his knee.

  "Hey!" Virginia grabbed the first thing she could. It happened to be his beard. Once again, it came loose.

  Santa patted it back into place. "So, Ginny, what do you want to find under your Christmas tree?"

  Virginia glared at him, her lower lip stuck out in a pout. "My name is Virginia, and I want a Super Nintendo."

  "Ho, ho, ho. Wouldn't you like Santa to bring you a pretty doll? Though Santa will have to look hard to find a doll as pretty as you."

  What a line. Amanda covered her mouth with her hand. Santa and Sexism: A special holiday report. Alliteration always went over with viewers.

  Virginia wasn't smiling. No wonder. If all the Santas were as bad as this one, Amanda would hire her own. In fact, that might not be such a bad idea.

  "I don't want a doll!" Virginia pushed at the velvet chest and tried to hop down. The green elf rushed to help Santa.

  "Don't you want to stay and talk with Santa?" The elf warbled, smirking at the camera.

  "No! He stinks!"

  "Cut." Amanda ran to intervene. "Thanks very much," she said, firmly grasping Virginia's hand.

  With a jerk of her head, Amanda signaled her crew to follow as she led Virginia away.

  "That wasn't Santa," Virginia announced.

  "I agree." Amanda stopped and unhooked Virginia's microphone.

  "His beard was fake. His voice was fake. His shoes were wrong and he smelled bad."

  "Probably hanging around the reindeer too much," Amanda murmured. "What do you think?" she asked Ron.

  Never very vocal, he simply shrugged. The lighting/audio tech shook her head. They confirmed what Amanda suspected--they'd captured no more than a few seconds of usable material.

  There wasn't enough time to visit another mall today. Studying the microphone plug in her hand, Amanda came to a decision. "Virginia, we're going to interview you. Ron, find a backdrop, and I'll hook her up again."

  "What do you mean?" Virginia asked.

  "I'm going to ask you questions about Santa and how that guy compares."

  "I just told" you. He st--"

  "He stinks, I know. Tell us how he compares to the real Santa. I don't think you need to mention the fact that he smells."

  "But he does!" Virginia's voice got louder. "I thought I was going to gag!" Amanda glanced around and found that the people at the end of the line were watching with rapt attention.

  "Amanda."

  She heard a soft whistle and saw her cameraman beckoning. He was standing by the display windows of a Christmas decoration store.

  Perfect.

  They positioned Virginia in front of a white tree with silver ornaments and brought the camera down to her eye level.

  "Pretend you're talking to your friends," Amanda instructed. "And look at me, not at the camera. Ready?"

  At Virginia's nod, Amanda indicated that Ron should begin taping. "Virginia, tell the boys and girls listening what you expect when you visit Santa Claus."

  "Well ... "

  Please be bright and articulate, Amanda pleaded silently, though she knew that was asking a lot of a six-year-old.

  Then a miracle happened. Whether it was the small crowd of curious shoppers gathering to watch or Virginia blossoming with all the attention, she stood straighter and smiled confidently at Amanda. Then she launched into the qualities they'd discussed in the car earlier. Amanda couldn't have asked for more if she'd written a script.

  "First of all, Santa should be fat, so his lap will be soft. He has a white beard and crinkly eyes. And he should smell like peppermint. When he says, 'Ho, ho, ho,’ his voice should rumble. Santa wears black boots and his outfit should look nice for meeting us."

  "What else?"

  "Well, he should be interested in what you want for Christmas and ... and he doesn't make promises he can't keep," Virginia finished obliquely.

  "And how was the Woodbrook Santa?" Amanda asked.

  "Oh, Amanda, puhleez." Virginia rolled her eyes.

  Amanda was startled to hear Virginia use her name, but decided it was cute and showed how relaxed she’d become in front of the camera.

  "This guy must have flunked out of Santa school."

  Amanda's jaw dropped. Virginia had become a little too relaxed.

  Virginia adopted the confiding manner of a successful gossip columnist and ticked off the Woodbrook Santa's shortcomings.

  Cute, smart-alecky kids. A lethal combination. Amanda had no idea how much usable footage she'd get.

  After a few more questions--though Virginia didn't need prompting--Amanda called it a day. "I'm going to check in at the studio before we leave here," she said, heading for the pay phones.

  She left Virginia with Ron while he put away his equipment. Amanda planned to call the studio, yes, but she also wanted to check and see if Kirk had managed to make it to the mall.

  He hadn't, apparently.

  She stood at the mall crossroads, staring from the never- ending line for Santa--now on his reindeer-feeding break--to the west entrance of the mall. With a sigh, she headed for the public telephones.

  Catching sight of her watch as she punched in the Hello Houston number, Amanda closed her eyes and leaned against the gray-tiled wall. Great. It’d be five o'clock by the time they left. She didn't look forward to the drive on traffic-clogged freeways.

  "No messages from Kirk McEnery?" she asked the receptionist after hearing the names of people who'd phoned and noting that Kirk wasn't among them.

  "No," the receptionist answered. "But Kay said for you to get over here as soon as you finished."

  What did her
executive producer want now? Amanda wondered, running her fingers through her bangs. It would take at least an hour to drop Virginia off at her father's office and return to the studio. "Did Kay mention what she wanted?"

  "No, but she did say to tell you to haul your--"

  "I get the picture."

  Ron and Virginia weren't where she'd left them. The tech, left guarding the equipment, pointed. "He took her to get something to drink."

  Amanda felt guilty as she walked toward the food court and spotted Ron and Virginia at a small atrium table. The little girl had been very cooperative, and Amanda hadn't even thanked her.

  Virginia drank a frozen berry slush from a cup about as big as she was. Ron had a soft drink.

  "Hi," Amanda said, sliding onto the third stool.

  Virginia raised her eyebrows and kept sucking on her straw.

  Watching her, Amanda came to a decision. "Virginia, how'd you like to visit a TV studio?" The little girl could have a treat, and Amanda could find out what Kay wanted.

  "You mean where they make TV shows?"

  Amanda nodded. "Just like the one you'll be on."

  "Sure!"

  Virginia babbled during the entire drive to the studio. Thank goodness it was a short drive. They parked in Amanda's usual spot, and Virginia ran on ahead to the door and waited, hopping from one foot to the other.

  Virginia's enthusiasm as they passed the security guard reminded Amanda of her first day on the job. She hadn't been an associate producer then. No, she'd been a receptionist and go-fer.

  But that was fine. It'd meant she had a foot in the door, and that was her goal. Then.

  She'd gone back to school after her divorce, continuing her degree in radio/TV/Film. Thinking it would help to have work experience in television when she applied for a job after graduation, she offered to take any position. Without pay.

  In six weeks, she was on the payroll.

  There was so much time to make up. So many courses to take. Juggling work and school had been hard, but easier than juggling two jobs and a marriage.

  The long hours helped her to forget her failed marriage and kept her out of her empty apartment. Observing the popular Maria Alvarez had helped Amanda set her goals.

  Kay had been so impressed with Amanda's enthusiasm that she'd promised her a job in production after graduation. That had been six years ago.

  "Virginia," she called, when the little girl galloped too far ahead. "Here's my office."

  Virginia turned back and followed Amanda into a spartan cubicle. "That's it?"

  "I don't need much," Amanda said, wiping the image of Maria's big corner office from her mind.

  "This is where they make TV shows?"

  "No." Amanda flipped through her messages and assorted papers on her desk. "You saw those big tall black doors on the other end of the hall?"

  "Uh huh."

  "Those are the studios. I'll show you one in a minute."

  "I want to see it now!"

  "In a minute." Amanda reached for the telephone. "I want to check with my producer, then call your dad." She pointed. "Scrape off that chair and have a seat."

  Looking disappointed, Virginia crept over to the chair and stacked the assorted files and papers onto the floor.

  Amanda felt a pang of guilt at the little girl's expression. It was such a picture of stoic disillusionment that Amanda wondered how many times Kirk had done the same thing.

  Just then, Kay answered her telephone.

  "It's Amanda. What's up?"

  As Amanda listened to the latest crisis, Virginia stood and edged toward the door. Putting her hand on the knob, she looked at Amanda.

  Shaking her head, Amanda held up a finger, then was distracted by Kay's question.

  "Just a sec, I've got that info around here somewhere ... " Amanda turned to dig in the piles of papers behind her, then stretched the telephone cord over to the pile Virginia had made by the chair. Kneeling and cradling the phone between her shoulder and her ear, Amanda searched through the papers, withdrawing a file in triumph.

  "Yes, they listed two contacts."

  "Great. We can't reach the primary contact, and I don't want to be left with three minutes of dead air."

  "Okay, I'll call number two," Amanda offered.

  As she scribbled Kay's instructions, Amanda was aware that Virginia had slipped out the door.

  That was all right. The little girl's bright head was visible just above the lower portion of the rectangular window in Amanda's door.

  "Coming, Virginia," she called, still scribbling. "Let me phone your dad and I'll be right with you."

  As Kirk's agency number rang, Amanda perched on the corner of her desk. What a day. And it wasn't over yet.

  "Kirk McEnery."

  Amanda was startled not to hear the receptionist's voice.

  "Amanda Donnelly. We finished at the mall and I brought Virginia back to the studio with me." Amanda glanced through the window. Virginia had wandered a few feet away, but was still visible.

  "I thought you were going to bring her here." Annoyance sounded in his clipped tones.

  And I expected you to come to the mall. Reviewing their previous conversation, Amanda said, "I don't believe we actually settled that. I can bring her to you there, but I won't be able to leave for awhile."

  "How long is a while?"

  "An hour." Actually, Amanda thought she'd finish long before then, but let Kirk wait on her for a change.

  Silence, then, "I'll drive over there." And I'm not happy about it, his tone implied.

  Amanda didn't care.

  "Virginia will be hungry."

  Well, Amanda did care about that. "She hasn't complained. She had a giant slush drink at the mall."

  "How nutritious."

  "There was fruit in it." Don't tell me you've never fed her junk food. What a hypocrite. Amanda would bet that Virginia had waited longer and later on her father then she'd wait this evening.

  Her phone buzzed. "That's my producer. I'll have to take this call." He wasn't the only one who was busy.

  "By all means." His voice stopped just short of sarcasm. "See you in a bit."

  Amanda broke the connection. Kay's questions only took seconds, but when Amanda opened her door, Virginia was nowhere in sight.

  Which way did she go? "Virginia?" Amanda couldn't raise her voice, not in a television studio.

  No answer.

  She gazed toward the main entrance of the building, then chose to walk in the other direction. "Virginia?" Amanda stopped to listen and heard nothing. "I can take you on your tour now."

  Still nothing. Amanda pursed her lips in annoyance. "It's not a good idea to play hide-and-seek here. There're too many cords. You could get hurt."

  She'd entered the black cavernous area behind the individual studios. The ceiling soared several stories above her. Thick cables looped over girders like vines in the jungle. Blackout curtain lined the walls. There were a million places to hide.

  Where was Virginia?

  Several of the studios had red lights illuminated above the three-story tall doors. Filming was in progress.

  Amanda groaned. If Virginia had opened one of the doors, she'd spoil whatever was going on inside. As it was, Amanda couldn't open them without knowing for certain whether Virginia was inside.

  "Virginia!" Amanda swatted at curtains and peered behind props boxes for countless minutes, trying to convince herself that Virginia was playing a game. Any moment, she'd jump out and scare the bejeebers out of Amanda.

  This was taking too long. It was time to try bribery. "Virginia, if you can hear me ... you win. How about coming out and I'll treat you to ... " What did little girls like to eat? Amanda tried to remember and couldn't. "Pizza."

  No response. Well, pizza sounded like a good idea whether or not Virginia emerged from her hiding place. "Remember, it takes about half an hour for it to be delivered. The sooner you come out, the sooner I can call in the order." She slowly turned in a complete circle, sea
rching for a tell-tale flutter of curtains or the tapping of small, six-year-old feet. "I'm not calling the pizza place until you come out."

  She crossed her arms and stood among all the wooden crates, and back drops.

  No Virginia.

  That's it. The Santa piece had just become a one-shot thirty-second blurb about the Christmas season and all the kids who like to visit Santa. Kay probably wouldn't run it, but Amanda didn't care. This experience had only reinforced her opinion that children were highly overrated.

  Okay. Okay, now she was getting desperate. "Virginia, you were great today. So great that I'll buy you a Super Nintendo. How about it? When we finish the last Santa visit, we'll go pick one up." How much did they cost anyway?

  Amanda rolled her eyes. At this point, cost wasn't an issue.

  When Virginia didn't leap at her shrieking in delight, Amanda knew she wasn't in the area. Lightly running the length of studio row, Amanda reached the intersection of another hallway. It was time for the six o'clock news. If Virginia somehow messed that up ...

  Amanda didn't want to think about the consequences. Looking right, then left, she tried to figure out which direction would appeal to a six-year-old. On the other hand, maybe Virginia had gone back to the guard at the front entrance.

  That was it. Sure. She’d felt lonely and had sought someone to talk with.

  Snatching at an in-house telephone, Amanda buzzed the guard. "Have you got a little blond girl up there with you, Hank?"

  "No, ma'am, but I do have an angry fella here."

  Kirk. Amanda winced.

  "Been callin' your office. Someone's got to escort him. I got no one to relieve me."

  "I'm on my way."

  This was the cherry on the cake of her day. Dodging electrical cables, Amanda ran to the guard station.

  A thin-lipped Kirk awaited her. His gaze flicked around her. "Virginia?"

  "Uh ... " Amanda tucked her hair behind her ear. "She wanted to see the studio."

  "Is she about finished?"

  "No." Amanda swallowed.

  Kirk pointedly held up his watch. "It's getting late. Perhaps she could complete her tour another time?"

  "Oh, but--"

  "Where is she?"

  Amanda stared into the brown eyes that gazed at her so intently. So impatiently. Eyes that demanded a response.