by Diane Kelly
I nodded.
“Well, well.” Derek stalked right up to the kid’s chair, towering over him, invading the boy’s personal space. “Got some sticky fingers, do ya?”
The boy cowered, shrinking in the seat, his knees coming up and his shoulders hunching as if he were trying to fold himself up. He refused to look at Derek.
“Whatsamatter, boy?” Derek boomed, rocking back on his feet and thrusting his crotch out toward the kid’s face. “You scared?”
“No,” the boy said, though the crack in his voice told us otherwise.
Derek chuckled, bent down, and put his face mere inches from the boy’s, moving his head left and right as the boy turned his head in a desperate attempt to avoid the Big Dick’s penetrating gaze. Or perhaps he was attempting to avoid Derek’s breath. My former partner’s standard lunch was a double-burger with extra onions, and he didn’t believe in breath mints.
“You listen to me, boy. When I back away, you are going to put your hands in the air, stand up, and turn to face the wall. One wrong move and I will separate your head from your body. You got that?”
Eyes wide, the boy nodded.
Derek began to back away, then faked a lunge at the boy as he started up out of the chair. The boy let out both a cry and approximately two ounces of urine, judging from the size of the wet spot that formed on his crotch. He fell back into the chair, instinctively curling into a fetal position. Derek laughed and backed off. “Get a move on, squirt. I ain’t got all day.”
When the kid stood with his back to us, Derek grabbed the kid’s hands and cuffed them behind his back. He seized the kid by the shoulder, aimed him toward the door, and shoved him forward. “Get moving.”
Brigit and I followed them out into the main hallway. “Let him use the bathroom,” I told Mackey.
The kid glanced back at me, a grateful look in his eyes.
The Big Dick rolled his eyes, but uncuffed one of the kid’s hands and let him visit the facilities before hauling him off.
It was five o’clock by then and my shift was over. After dealing with the rude punk, I figured I deserved a treat—some new bubble bath, perhaps. I led Brigit out into the mall and the two of us aimed for Victoria’s Secret.
Chapter Six
And a Partridge in a Pear Tree
Brigit
The store her partner led her into smelled like vanilla and musk and flowers. Brigit hoped Megan wouldn’t buy any of the strong-smelling lotions for herself. The dog much preferred the natural smells of grass and dirt and dead possum. She’d been delighted to find one in the bushes at their apartment last night and had rolled around on its half-rotted corpse until Megan dragged Brigit away. Her partner could be a real party pooper sometimes.
As Megan sorted through a stack of those double-sided holsters she wore over her chest, the woman who’d made Santa release those lovelorn smells earlier stepped over to help. Brigit could sense loneliness on this woman, too. Loneliness and disappointment. Someone had let her down. Bad.
But surely that man in the funny suit could make this woman happy again. After all, he’d made all those children giggle and squeal and shriek, shrill noises that made Brigit want to lie down and put her paws over her ears. Why couldn’t God have given children a nice, quiet tail to wag instead?
Brigit figured if she could match Santa with this woman, they’d both stop being lonely and she could kill two birds with one stone. And if there’s anything a dog wants, it’s dead birds.
Chapter Seven
The Nightie Before Christmas
Tara
Last night I’d searched the vital statistics data. It had taken me over an hour to piece things together, but after I’d reviewed the marriage license records and birth certificates for Nadine and Deidre, I learned that the two had been step-siblings since Deidre’s mother married Nadine’s father when Deidre was eleven years old and Nadine was eight.
Interesting …
Were Deidre and Nadine close? Close enough to commit a crime together? If so, did Phil know about it?
The effect their relationships might have on the case, if any, was unknown at this point. But as they say, knowledge is power. And I liked power. I also liked the sugar cookies Deidre had offered me. She’d really outdone herself with the colored frosting and sugar sprinkles. After two oversized snowmen and one star-shaped cookie, I felt engorged and giddy.
Could a person get drunk on vanilla extract?
And was a woman capable of baking such sweet, cute cookies capable of committing a low-down, dirty crime?
I felt like I was going after Betty Crocker here. Something didn’t sit right about all of this. Then again, it could have been all that vegetable oil clogging my small intestine.
At five o’clock I called it quits. I hadn’t yet found a smoking gun among the jewelry store’s records, but I was only halfway through the invoices for the store’s inventory purchases. The shop did a booming business, moving merchandise the way elves move toys. In addition to the sheer volume of invoices, I was slowed by the fact that I had to carefully compare the purchased stock noted in each order to the police reports to see if the allegedly stolen jewelry pieces were noted among the items purchased. It was possible that the jewelry could show up on an invoice from Gramercy Gems and Jewels, but it seemed more likely that if Deidre and Nadine were working together, they would create a fake invoice from a fictitious supplier. Maybe I’d find something tomorrow. At least the day hadn’t been a total waste. I’d helped Officer Luz take down those teenaged shoplifters. That had been a trip. Pun intended!
I packed up my things and stood. “Bye, Deidre.”
“See you, tomorrow!” she called cheerily.
On my way out of the mall, I passed the Victoria’s Secret store, backtracking and stepping inside. Might as well see what offerings the shop had on sale for the holidays. My mother could use a new nightgown. That cheap cotton thing she’d worn for years was sorely in need of replacement. She’d feel prettier in a new silk design. I could use a new nightie, too. Maybe something lacy or ruffled. After kicking ass, I liked to treat myself to something feminine. It keeps me in balance. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to go shopping.
Inside, I found Officer Luz, her K-9 partner, and the store manager chatting over a bra display near the front window. Well, the cop and the manager were talking. The dog looked up at them, her head tilted and ears perked as if she were trying to decipher exactly what the two were discussing. I had a sneaking suspicion the dog understood far more than might be expected.
“Hey,” I said by way of greeting.
“Hi,” Megan said.
Brigit gave me a tail wag and a soft “Arf!” I returned the sentiment with a scratch behind the ears and a “What a pretty girl!”
Megan introduced me to the store manager, whose name I learned was Charlotte. Megan cut her eyes my way. “Tara’s a CPA. She’s doing a rent audit for the mall management.”
“A CPA?” Charlotte said. “You must be good with numbers.”
“Yep.” Good with numbers, good with a gun, too. I could shoot a flea off a dog’s butt at twenty paces.
“I’m pretty good with numbers, too,” Charlotte said. “If I ever get a chance to go to college, maybe I’ll study accounting.”
Megan’s upper lip twitched, a subtle and involuntary reaction. Apparently she, like many others, found numbers to be dry and dull. No doubt they could be. But factor in some white-collar crime and those numbers could add up to intrigue, adventure, even a little danger.
I looked down at the assortment of bras and picked up a red one in a 32A, the size I’d worn since junior high. Yep, still waiting for my boobs to come in. Maybe Santa would bring me a pair for Christmas. “This polka-dotted bra is cute.” I held it up to my chest and posed. “What do you think? Could I give Heidi Klum a run for her money? Drive all the men wild?”
Despite the fact that I was clearly joking, Charlotte’s lips formed a frown. “Make sure you’re buying these things for y
ou, not to please some man. It’s about how you feel in them, not whether he thinks you look sexy in them.”
Officer Luz and I exchanged glances.
“Wow.” I set the bra back in the pile. “Someone’s really done you wrong, haven’t they?”
Charlotte cringed. “Is it that obvious?”
“Yes,” Megan and I said in unison. Brigit agreed with a soft woof.
The woman blinked back tears. “My divorce was final last week.”
I pulled a tissue from my purse and offered it to her. “I take it you miss him?”
“Not at all!” She dabbed at her eyes. “Ditching that lazy bastard was like having a wart removed. It’s just … well … I feel so … alone. Especially with the holidays coming. It would be nice to have someone to get dressed up for and celebrate with, or to curl up together in front of the fireplace.”
“It’s seventy-three degrees outside,” I reminded her.
She gave me a patient smile. “Like that will last.”
True. North Texas weather was known for its extremes. It wasn’t unusual for temperatures to drop twenty degrees in an hour. We could have an ice storm tomorrow and suffer heatstroke the day after. Mother Nature was pretty fickle around these parts.
Charlotte stepped a couple of feet away to a display of panties in need of straightening. She began to sort through the messy piles, checking the tags and putting each pair in the correct stack. “I guess I should’ve seen the divorce coming. I got married right out of high school. My boyfriend and I went down to the justice of the peace and tied the knot without even telling our parents first. It seemed so romantic at the time. He wanted to be a poet, used to write verses about me.”
She stared out the window, a faraway look in her eyes before she seemed to snap to her senses and returned her gaze to us. “We had a baby right off the bat. Kind of an oops, you know? I spent the last four years working full-time to pay for my ex to go to college and study English only to find out he’d been skipping classes and hanging around our apartment watching TV all day.” She slapped a pair of sheer pink panties on the top of a stack. “If I ever get married again, it won’t be for love. I’m going to find myself a sugar daddy.”
Chris walked by the window, still dressed in his Santa suit, and glanced inside. His eyes met Charlotte’s through the glass and held for a moment before he walked out of sight.
“What about him?” Megan asked.
“Who?” Charlotte asked, unconsciously twisting the pair of black panties in her hand.
Megan gestured in the direction Chris had gone.
A perplexed look creased Charlotte’s face. “Santa?”
“He is the ultimate sugar daddy,” I agreed. “All you’ve gotta do is sit on his lap and he’ll bring you whatever you want.”
Charlotte smiled, playing along. “Think he could fit a house in his sleigh? Maybe a three-bedroom, two-bath model with swing set out back?”
Megan quirked her dark brows. “He was watching you earlier in the food court.”
Charlotte’s head pulled back in surprise. “Really?”
Officer Luz nodded.
Charlotte put the panties down, stepped closer to the window, and watched Chris walk off, a wistful expression on her face. “He is kind of cute.”
Megan stepped up beside her. “He’s great with kids, too.”
Charlotte frowned. “Could be a perv.”
Megan shook her head. “The mall manager ran a background check before hiring him. It came back clean. Besides, he’s a pediatric nurse.”
Charlotte seemed to consider that information, craning her neck until Chris walked out of view. “If he’s a nurse, why is he moonlighting here?”
“He’s paying off an engagement ring,” I explained. “He came into the jewelry store today to make an installment. His fiancée ran off with another guy and took the ring with her.”
Charlotte stepped back from the window and raised her palms. “The last thing I need is a man on the rebound.” As if to make it clear the topic was closed, she said, “Can I help you two find anything in particular?”
Brigit and Officer Luz stepped over to the display of colognes, lotions, shower gels, and bubble bath, while Charlotte helped me with the nightgowns. I ended up buying an ankle-length deep blue nightgown for my mother, and a knee-length ruffled red one for myself. Both were on sale 30 percent off. God bless us, every one!
As I turned to go, I found Officer Luz standing in the checkout line behind me, her arms loaded with lavender-scented bubble bath, shower gel, and body lotion.
“Want to grab a quick dinner in the food court?” I asked. The traffic between Fort Worth and Dallas during rush hour was horrendous. Might as well hang around here a little longer and let it thin out a bit. Besides, any excuse not to cook worked for me. My mother was the queen of Southern fried cooking, but I was useless in a kitchen unless someone wanted a bottle of wine uncorked. That I could do.
“Why not?” Megan replied.
The two of us made our way down the sidewalk and into the enclosed section of the mall. The evening Santa was on duty now. UnlikeChris, whose hearty Ho-ho-ho! made the kids squeal in delight, this Santa had a laugh that sounded fake, forced, and flimsy. And while Chris reached out friendly arms to scoop the kids up into his lap, this man waited for his assistant to lift the children onto his knee. Cleary, he was just going through the motions.
A few feet away, a young couple stood under the candy canes and mistletoe, smooching away. They looked happy and in love. Everyone deserved to have a special someone like that.
I grabbed a greasy egg roll, fried rice, and a soda at the Chinese place. Megan ordered a plain burger for Brigit, but selected a garden salad, a cup of vegetable soup, and fresh-squeezed lemonade for herself. My stomach wouldn’t know what to do if I sent that kind of healthy diet its way. My body would probably reject such a nutritious meal. I’d end up in convulsions in the ER and have to go through detox.
We slid into chairs on opposite sides of a small table. Brigit hopped up onto a chair between us, sitting on the seat like a person.
Megan cocked her head, indicating the dog. “She thinks she’s human.”
Brigit emitted a soft whimper, as if insulted anyone would think otherwise.
While Megan cut the dog’s burger into bite-sized pieces, I took a sip of my soda. “Kinda sad about Charlotte, huh?”
Megan nodded but shrugged at the same time, a dark look clouding her eyes. “Sad, yes. But, trust me. There are far worse things for a woman than being alone.”
Being a special agent for the IRS put me in contact with some unsavory people, but they were probably saints compared to the offenders a street cop like Officer Luz dealt with. I tried not to think too much about it. No sense dampening my holiday spirits.
I cut my egg roll in half and shared it with Brigit. Over dinner, Megan and I chatted about our upcoming Christmas plans.
She took a sip of her lemonade. “Brigit and I are working at the Parade of Lights this weekend.”
The annual holiday parade in Downtown Fort Worth was a popular event, sure to draw a big crowd.
“That’ll be fun,” I said.
“The overtime will help p-pay for Christmas gifts,” Megan replied. She angled her head to indicate the dog. “Someone wants a new F-R-I-S-B-E-E.”
Brigit cocked her head, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Arrur?”
I looked from the dog to Megan. “Can she spell?”
Megan blew on a spoonful of steaming soup. “It wouldn’t surprise me.”
I picked up the fortune cookie that had come with my dinner and unwrapped it. SOME PEOPLE FALL IN LOVE. OTHERS NEED A PUSH.
Hmm …
I looked up from the slip of paper in my hand. “Want to spread some Christmas cheer?”
Chapter Eight
Operation: Secret Santa
Megan
Thursday morning, after cruising through the neighborhoods and Forest Park, Brigit and I headed to the mal
l. I waited a few feet from Santa’s throne while an adorable but greedy redheaded girl shared an exhaustive list of Christmas wishes with Chris. She’d been on the man’s lap yakking nonstop for nearly ten minutes before she began to wrap things up.
“… and roller skates, and an iPad, and a kitten. An orange one. One that’s a girl.” She scrunched her shoulders and raised her palms. “That’s all!”
Chris gestured toward Brigit. “Sure you don’t want a dog instead?”
Brigit wagged her tail and woofed.
The little girl shook her head. “That dog would take up my whole bed!”
Tell me about it.
When the girl climbed down from Santa’s lap, I held up a hand, signaling the next mother and child to wait. “Official police business. I have intel on naughties.”
Chris patted his knee as I approached. “Want to climb aboard?”
I was definitely tempted but declined with a smile. I pulled several pieces of folded paper from my breast pocket, removed my hat, and dropped them inside. I made a pretext of mixing the papers around, though it was of no consequence. Each folded noted contained the same name. Officer Megan Luz. Holding the hat out to Santa, I said, “Pick one.”
Chris extended a white-gloved hand. “What’s this?”
“The Secret Santa drawing.”
He chuckled. “Not much of a secret where I’m concerned, is it?” He chose a piece of paper and unfolded it for a quick peek.
I leaned toward him and whispered. “Who’d you get?”
He held the paper over his head out of my reach and grinned. “I’ll never tell.”
I pulled my baton from my belt, extending it with a quick flick of my wrist—snap!—and twirling it between my fingers. “I have ways to make you talk, old man.”
He tucked the paper into his glove and wagged a finger at me. “Now, now. Do you want to end up on my naughty list?”
Definitely.
I returned my baton to my belt, scooped the remaining pieces of paper out of my hat, and put my hat back on my head. “A group of us are meeting for drinks after work at the Flying Saucer. Interested?”
