“What’s next, Mr. Legend?” She struggled not to let her hurt show, but he knew. He reached a hand out and tugged at a thick curl of her hair, the way he always did, to reassure her. That made it hurt even more. She struggled not to cry. What was wrong with her anyway? Must be the holidays making her girlie.
Dane turned to Ronnie and rose from his chair. “You’re dismissed, kid.” He pulled out his wallet and tore a bunch of twenties from the folded stack and handed the wad to Ronnie. He would have enjoyed watching the kid’s eyes go wide, but he felt on edge. Shana watched him and he knew she was on edge—not a good edge—not the edge he wanted her on. He couldn’t stand watching her be bravely sad. He pushed the kid through the kitchen as he grabbed his coat and stammered his thanks and his Merry Christmas.
The thud of the door closing behind the one thing that stood between him and Shana made his pulse jump and his chest tighten to hold his racing heart.
He turned to her. She’d come to the kitchen door to see Ronnie out and stood less than two feet from him. He felt her, smelled her, heard her breathing. She was like a pulse making his house come alive. But he saw in her eyes everything he didn’t want to see. Sadness. Longing. A reflection of everything inside him and he didn’t know if he had what she needed to make it go away. For either of them.
“What do you want?” His jaw clenched.
“Nothing you can give me.” She confirmed his thoughts. She tried to turn away then, but he reached out and caught her arm and swung her around to face him.
If he had to watch her pain then she could damn well watch his.
“What? Say it, Shana.”
“I want to go home.” Her eyes glittered and her mouth tightened and quivered. “You bastard.” She breathed the words, then spoke more forcefully, her chin ratcheted up as if he’d physically pulled it, “I’d rather be anywhere but here with you”
“I thought you said I couldn’t give it to you? I can give you that.” His gut churned. He wanted to push her out the door as much as he wanted to squeeze her to his chest and hang on. “As soon as we’re done solving this case—you can leave.”
She eyed him, anger forcing its way past the rest, but warring with concern or something—something he didn’t want to see.
“As soon as I get my kiss under the mistletoe,” he added. He breathed in, but not out.
She scowled, erasing any hint of open vulnerability. Of course the scowl was a pathetic cover-up for all that was indecently vulnerable inside her, but at least she had the good grace to wear it.
“You’re on, big boy.” She hooded her intense green eyes. “If you think you can handle it.”
She was back to being brave and it was a constant sharp sting between his shoulder blades, but he had to take it. He had to give her what she really wanted. Not him.
She wanted warmth—real warmth. Her family.
Funny thing was, he was no longer concerned about where that left him for Christmas.
Chapter 7
Dane told Cap to meet at the beach shack at eight am—an hour before anyone else was showing up. He needed the buffer if he was going to make good on his promise to himself—on his Christmas gift to Shana.
It was odd that a little holiday and a girl could dissolve the granite fortress of his legendary cool so easily. It was a mighty effort for him to reassemble the crumbling vestiges to face this day. He would work with Shana to resolve the case, even though he could damn well do it without her. Then he would collect his gift from her under the mistletoe.
And he would give her his gift of good-bye.
The banging of the back screen door was a welcome snap from the company of his thoughts.
“Do we have a Santa sighting yet?” Cap asked.
“I put in a call to Ted Gates. He’ll get back to me. Likely later in the day. More importantly, we need to deal with Rita the not so above-board realtor.”
“That’s my job. You ought to enjoy the party and forget about it.”
“Not in my DNA,” Dane said. Cap nodded.
“Besides, we don’t have enough for an arrest without Rusty as a witness and something tells me he’s going to be reluctant.”
Cap nodded again and poured himself a cup of coffee. “This fresh?”
Dane said, “Made it last night. Heated mine up in the microwave. It’ll put hair on your chest.”
“So it’s the usual consistency of tar.” Cap took a sip and grimaced slightly.
“I checked the records and Rita paid cash for the house two years ago when she arrived. According to Ronnie’s gossip intel, none of the neighbors knows a thing about her past before she arrived. It’s suspicious but hardly enough for an arrest.”
“Not even enough for a search warrant to look for the money in her house or her bank accounts. I ran the CORI on her. Nothing. Not even a parking ticket. License and registration records begin two years ago. And no known aliases.”
“I have a feeling our Rita is cagey enough to hide the money from a search warrant.”
“What are you thinking?” Cap asked.
“Witness protection. I have a call in to an old friend at the U.S. Marshall’s office.”
“Must be some friend if you expect her to spill the beans on a protected witness.” Cap smiled.
“What makes you so sure my friend is a she?”
“Who else would risk their neck for you except a hopeful woman from your sordid past with star-crossed eyes?”
Dane snorted. “You’d be surprised. A guy saves your life, you do things for him.”
“So it’s not a woman?”
“I didn’t say that.” The secure landline rang then and Dane snatched the clunky earpiece from the receiver. It was his U.S. Marshall’s Office contact but he was careful not to use her name in front of Cap.
“Hey Sugar, what do you have?”
Sugar told him what he needed to know.
“I owe you.”
“Hardly. I know you’d go to the grave before admitting you got this from me. But if you’re in the mood for payback I’ll take that escape to Puerto Rico you keep alluding to.”
The usual spike of interest at Sugar’s tone of voice and suggestion for a get away didn’t happen. Dane didn’t respond for a beat, surprised at his lack of interest.
“All right then—never mind,” Sugar said on a sigh. “Call me when you change your mind. Or what the hell, call me anytime you want, Dane.” He ended the call and hung up the old-fashioned phone, clanking the receiver into its cradle.
He didn’t have to look at Cap to know he wore an I-told-you-so grin.
“Rita Lane has a history of some repute. Seems she’s one step away from armed and dangerous,” Dane said. That wiped the grin from his friend’s face. He continued, “The only way we can shut her down from the protection program is if we get her dead-to-rights.”
“A confession.”
“Bingo. This calls for a sting operation.”
“You have a plan?”
Dane smiled. Of course he had a plan.
Once Shana and Ronnie arrived, he outlined his plan. Shana scowled and Ronnie’s mouth hung open while he spoke. Cap stood by with his arms folded.
“Anyone have any better ideas?”
No one spoke.
“Then we roll with it. Any questions about your roles?” Dane looked at Shana.
“What role? Santa elf? It’ hardly—”
“Did you have any better idea, girlie?” he stared her down. He would do all the heavy lifting. He knew the almost armed and dangerous warning wouldn’t phase Shana, but it was Christmas time and she was soft and vulnerable, and no way was he letting her—or anyone else put themselves in the way of even a semi-dangerous criminal at this point.
“Fine. As long as I’m there at the time of arrest to back you up,” she said.
He hauled her in for a squeeze before she escaped out his back door. Her visit to his kitchen was too short—and too crowded—especially after the night before. There was no chance to
clear the air, but he knew they could work together as partners no matter what. And he knew she knew a good plan when she heard one.
He pulled her close and breathed in the special scent she had and whispered close to her ear. “I’m counting on you to be there. I’ll be collecting on the kiss under the mistletoe.”
She snorted and pulled away, but gave him a glancing half smile before shoving out his door.
Dane knocked on Rita’s front door. He figured she’d answer the door because he was alone. And because he’d called ahead and said he had a message from Rusty Gates.
“Well if it isn’t the sexiest man on the island and don’t you look dangerous and delicious.” She opened the door wide and stepped aside to let him in.
He’d be lying to himself if he didn’t admit to hesitating. He had that chilled feeling that a victim got with, say, a black widow spider. Like he was stepping into a fatal trap. But he shook it off with a healthy surge of macho confidence, figuring he could take her even if she were armed. She was a smallish woman and not at her peak. Although he refrained from giving her any indication of his less than flattering thoughts.
She was dressed to impress him with her short black skirt, tall black boots and bright red too-tight sweater. The oversized earrings dangling from her ears looked like they could double as weapons.
“How about an eggnog. I’m having one myself—for the road.”
“You leaving town, Rita?”
“What? Me? Why would I be doing that?”
“What road were you referring to?”
She laughed. “Just an expression—you must be paranoid –casualty of the business I suppose.” She eyed him and hefted her water glass filled with eggnog for a big swig. He could smell the alcohol lacing the drink from where he stood a healthy distance away.
“So what does Rusty have to say for himself disappearing the way he did and worrying us all?” Her eyes had a sharp edge, but her mouth was attempting a genial smile. He doubled down on caution.
“He said he was staying with family for the holidays. He had a minor lapse in his recovery and figured he needed to get away. He was too embarrassed about it to see anyone or try to explain.” Dane shrugged, looked around and decided to wander around the house. He wanted to check the place out and idly walked from the living room to the kitchen and into the back hall. She followed him.
“So where does that leave me?”
“I guess that leaves you without a date for the party.” He turned to her and gave her a steely look. She scoffed, but there was a tell-tale hitch of nerves. He stepped closer more menacing than seducing.
“I’m subbing in for Rusty as Santa—how about if I sub in for him as your date?”
“I’m surprised the party is still on. I heard Rusty took off with all the money. Did he say anything about that?”
“No, but I didn’t ask. I don’t think he collected much money. I got it from Reverend Hall that the church came into an anonymous last minute donation that was more than enough to throw a party and pay for a generous supply of Christmas gifts for the needy.”
“Is that right.” She seemed skeptical but more relaxed.
“Arrive at the party late—around eight. That way we can leave and have some private time at my place. Get to know each other.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself.”
“So are you.”
“What about your partner? Aren’t you with her?”
“She moved out last month. I’ll see you at eight.” He turned and headed for the front door. She would show. But he had one more incentive for her.
“You’re a hot shot. I’ll be there. To see you in the Santa outfit if nothing else.”
“To see me out of the Santa outfit you mean,” he said before he walked out the door. He heard her laugh as he walked back down the steps. He took a deep breath of the chilly air. The sky was gray and promised more snowflakes. The thought cleared his head and he headed for the church.
The Santa suit fit him surprisingly well. Dane pulled the red and white hat on—he’d opted out of the wig. Wearing this goddamned suffocating white beard was bad enough.
The party room in the church basement looked like a wonderland. Mrs. DeLuzio had filled in and completed the decorating without Rita Lane’s help. Rita had told her she was under the weather.
Dane took his seat in the Santa chair of honor and waved Shana over. He allowed his smile under the beard and whether it was the suit or the way she looked in her short elf skirt he wasn’t sure.
“Where’d you get the outfit?”
“Mrs. DeLuzio had an old red skating skirt from the 1960s she pulled out of mothballs and slapped on some white furry fringe and here I am.” Shana had her hands on her hips but the pose lacked the usual attitude with the white fur cuffs at her wrists and the red Santa hat sitting jauntily on her long wavy tresses. But mostly he admired her long shapely legs and the sexy black heeled boots.
“You’re going to be the most requested Christmas wish for every young boy in this room in that get up.”
Her scowl gave in to a half smile. He’d get the other half out of her later. She still hadn’t forgiven him for their failed dinner date. He hadn’t forgiven himself either.
“What if she doesn’t show?” Shana asked.
“She’ll be here at eight,” Dane told her. “Gives us plenty of time to give out the gifts. Let’s get the show on the road.” Dane motioned to his second elf assistant, Ronnie Ryan, who looked more like a character from a movie with a crazy outfit down to the pointy ears. “Bring out the bag of gifts Elf Ronnie.” He looked around the crowded room at the cheer, the smiles, the laughing, the eating and drinking and settled in for a merry time.
“Ho, ho, ho—who’s first to sit on my lap?” Dane looked at the clock. He had two hours until she got there. His team was in place, but he had the Coast Guard Captain on alert in case. Rita wasn’t getting off the island before he had a shot at getting a confession out of her.
The kids lined up and he reached into the big red bag.
Shana tried to stay focused on the fact that this was a case and she was getting paid, but it was a party and it was Christmas. And Dane was playing Santa like his name had always been Claus. She felt herself melting bit by bit with every gift he handed out.
Cap strolled over and gave her a long appreciative look. She lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders making the most of the elf costume. It looked more like a sexy Santa outfit. Formfitting red with fluffy white fur cuffs and trim along the short skirt. The black stiletto boots were hers.
An adorable red-haired little girl jumped off Santa’s lap with a big gap-toothed smile.
Before the next child came forward, Cap said to Dane, “You sure she’s going to show?”
“She’ll show. I sent her a special invitation,” Dane said. Shana could see his smug look right through the beard.
Cap gave him a skeptical look.
“Okay, I’ll bite. What makes your invitation so special?”
“There was implied romance. She’s on the rebound.”
“You dog.” Cap laughed.
“How about an eggnog?” Cap handed her a filled glass. He looked good out of uniform, in Christmas party street clothes.
“Has anyone mentioned that you make a sensational elf?”
“Not unless you count every male over ten and half the woman at this party. That includes Reverend Hall.” She smiled and took a sip, glancing at the clock.
“Does that include Santa?”
She snapped her head around to look at him.
“Since when do you care?”
“Always. I want to make sure he’s appreciating you. I understand you’ll be spending Christmas together,” Cap said.
A scowl automatically and instantly took over her face. She should be pleased. She might be pleased if they’d managed to pull off their dinner without stumbling around in the emotional wasteland they’d been stuck in for weeks.
“You can both have
dinner at my place. I’m having a few people for Turkey. It’ll be a regular tiny Tim Christmas with all the trimmings and good will. No Scrooges.”
“Sold. Does Dane know about it?”
“I’ll tell him.”
The knot in her gut loosened before she realized it had been all tied up. She took a deep breath.
“Thank you, Cap.” She raised her glass. “Merry Christmas.”
She drained the rest of the drink and was starting to feel appropriately cheerful when Cap said, “Rita Lane arrived. On your nine.”
Shana tightened every muscle in her body in reflex as if Rita were a poisonous snake and Shana needed to fight or flee. The curve of her smile felt evil as she prepared to play her role. She was assigned with confronting Rita and prepping for Dane’s final accusation.
“Time to go to work,” she said to Cap.
He took a glass of eggnog from a nearby tray and handed it to her. “Step one is lowering her defenses. You can ply her with eggnog.”
Shana took the glass and walking past Dane put a hand on his shoulder to let him know. He had the previously heartbroken waitress on his lap and was busily cheering her up, but he acknowledged Shana with a nod and a glance in Rita’s direction.
Rita stared straight at him and walked in his direction. Shana cut her off at the pass and handed her the glass of eggnog.
“Merry Christmas, Rita. Dane makes a great Santa, doesn’t he?”
“Sure. What are you doing dressed up—it’s not a Halloween party.” Rita took a hefty gulp of her drink. Shana laughed and took Rita by the arm. If she didn’t have a role to play she’d have liked to twist the woman’s arm right off her shoulder.
“Let’s get some food. I’m starved.”
“I’m not here to eat. I’m here to—”
“I know, I know. You want to apologize to Reverend Hall.”
“What? Why would I apologize to Reverend Hall?”
“Weren’t you the one who was supposed to be in charge of the money?”
“What makes you say that? Rusty was in charge of the money.”
Shana nodded her head.
“Speaking of Rusty—did you know he was running a floating poker game using Craigslist?”
Beachcomber Santa: a Beachcomber Investigations Novella Page 7
