A Damsel for Santa

by Terry Ambrose

  His cheeks screwed up in one of those Mr. Yuck faces that said more than words. "No way, man. She was way too old for me. She thought she was hot. You know, flirting all the time. I didn't want to make her feel bad, so I played along." He glanced sideways at Holly. "She's kinda young to be listening to all this. Don't you think?"

  The girl stood a little taller and planted both hands on her hips. "I know all about the birds and the bees."

  I suppressed a chuckle. She might think she knew the facts, but I suspected there were plenty of gray areas where she'd simply filled in the blanks with her imagination. "She's my notetaker," I said. "Just don't get graphic."

  Scrooge's jaw pinched and he snorted. "Ain't nothing graphic about it anyway. I wasn't the least bit interested in her. Nice as she was…"

  Holly stood to the side, her lower lip trembling. "She liked everybody but me."

  The two guys exchanged a quick glance. My little assistant began to sob and her shoulders quivered. Nicky shook his head, but Scrooge went to the girl and started to console her.

  "That's not true, honey."

  She made a croaking noise—it kind of resembled a goose's honk, then peered at him with watery eyes. "How do you know?" She wailed, "Brooke liked you. She hated me!"

  "The truth is she…she didn't really like anybody," Scrooge stammered. Holly leaned into him and he pulled her into an embrace. "Ain't that right, Nick?"

  Nicky glared at his partner in crime. "You dumb…"

  I cut him off. "And what about you, Nicky? What did you think of Brooke?"

  "Think about her? You mean, was I interested? I'm married, man. I work in a hardware store all day, go home, have dinner, then come here for a few hours. I don't even get time to think, let alone get excited over another woman. Besides, she wasn't the type to sleep around."

  "Not what I was asking. Did you hate her?"

  His foot began to tap and he stared at a spot on the floor a few feet away.

  Holly sniffled and hugged Scrooge.

  He looked up at the stagehand and pleaded with him. "Give it up, Nick. She doesn't deserve to think she was the only one Brooke hated."

  "You are such a doofus," Nicky muttered.

  "Everything is gonna come out sooner or later," Scrooge said. "We can't protect Kass forever."

  Kass? What did she have to do with Brooke? And why was Scrooge a doofus?

  Nicky glanced sideways at me. Caught me watching his face. Closed his eyes. "Okay, man, nobody here liked Brooke. She was mean-spirited. I don't know what Miller told you, but it's the truth. We all figured it was up to him to tell. But, this bozo is right and he's gonna blow the whole deal." He turned to my sobbing helper. "All's I'm gonna say is Kass and Brooke had a big blowup over some stupid wardrobe thing just before rehearsal. That's why Brooke was so nasty when you ran into her tonight. It had nothing to do with you, kid."

  In the background, Holly gasped. "That's why Kass was so mad. I thought I'd done something."

  "It wasn't you," Nicky said.

  Scrooge added, "Look, some people are just born nasty. I think Brooke was that way. Nicky and me thought the best thing was to let the whole argument get swept under the carpet. We didn't think about how it would affect you emotionally. We're sorry we lied. Right, Nick?"

  I stepped closer to Nicky. "You work with Kass, is that why you're so reluctant to talk about it?"

  "It's not my place, man. That's up to her. You should be talking to her about this whole thing." He turned his attention back to Holly and clapped. "Nice performance, kid. You're gonna be a pro."

  She pulled away from Scrooge and curtsied. "Thanks. My mom says the same thing."

  I stared at her for several seconds. "That was an act?"

  She winked at me. "Sorry, Santa." Then, she dismissed the apology with a shrug and a smile.

  I let out a huff. "You could go on the Naughty List for lying to Santa."

  She pursed her lips and thought for a second. "I was going to tell you, I promise. Besides, don't we need to talk to Kass again?"

  We? My pint-sized damsel still didn't get it. We weren't partners. At least, I didn't want to be partners. But, it appeared a partner was what I had. The good news was she'd twice found a key through the logjam and helped with the investigation. Maybe it was time to promote her again. At least she had some talent.

  16

  THE PHOTOGRAPH

  I'd agreed to let Holly take notes to keep her occupied. Okay, I liked her, too. She lightened the mood and made time go quickly. Now that she wanted a bigger role, I wasn't opposed. What would her mother say about this development? Was I out of my mind?

  Not only was my skin aflame, but my mouth was going numb, too. At the rate I was heading downhill, I'd soon need a full-blown substitute Santa. They'd have to bring Chance up to speed quickly, and quite frankly, I didn't trust anyone else around here. The bottom line was in this little game of tag, Holly was it.

  I sent my helper to retrieve Kass and ensure the two guys made it back to the main group. I also asked her to check on the status of the call to the police. While I was alone, I took another look at the body.

  Brooke Cobos lay on her side, right arm up, and her legs stretched out. Her head had a red, sticky spot on the side, but there was very little blood. Unusual from what I knew of head wounds. Someone must have moved the body here.

  I took a closer look and poked at Brooke's side with a nearby umbrella. When her arm shifted to one side, a piece of paper beneath her right hand became visible. I pushed her hand away and inspected the paper, which was triangular with one edge torn and two smooth sides at right angles to each other. The entire piece was small enough to easily fit in—or in this case, under—the palm of a woman's hand.

  The finished surface was still glossy, but worn with age. This must have been part of what caused the final rift between Miller and Brooke. I left the photo in full view where I'd found it.

  There were no other obvious clues in sight. I cleared away half of the prop table by dumping everything onto the floor against the back wall of the stage. Then, I dragged the table to the hallway. Enough of the stupid games, it was time to find the rest of this picture and, by extension, the killer.

  When Holly returned with Kass, the stagehand appeared much improved. Her eyes were still glazed, almost drained, but she seemed capable of functioning and sat in the same chair she'd used before.

  "I feel like crap," she moaned.

  "Sorry to hear that," I said. If my suspicions were correct, Kass was about to start feeling a whole lot worse. "We need a few more questions answered."

  Kass put a hand to her head. Rubbed her temples. "I'll try."

  "You had an argument with Brooke just before rehearsal."

  "It was pretty normal. She was an insensitive…" She stopped and glanced at Holly. "She didn't like how the makeup made her look pale."

  "How intense was the argument?"

  "Brooke was one of those people you could never please. We'd had words at least twice before. Always about the same thing, how she looked. She claimed she didn't like being on stage, but the minute the lights came up, you could see she wanted the adoring fans. She was all screwed up."

  "I need you to look at something."

  Her eyes widened and she let out a sigh. "Oh, man, I can barely see straight."

  I walked over to Brooke's body and gazed at Kass. This was the moment of truth. My heart pounded in my chest as I asked, "Holly, would you bring Kass over here?"

  The kid rushed to Kass's side and helped her to stand. Together, they walked tentatively to where I waited. Kass swayed north, south, east, and west, but she held in there.

  "As much as I didn't like Brooke, she didn't deserve this." She shuddered and took a deep breath. "Nobody does."

  "Look down," I said.

  This time, when Holly saw the body, her enthusiasm seemed to dissipate. I suppose the reality—the possibility her friend was a killer—had set in. She shrank back, but the shock hadn't pierced Kass's
defenses.

  "What are you trying to do now? Freak me out? She's dead. Nobody can change that."

  "Look at the scrap of paper next to the body. It's right at your feet."

  Kass glanced down, craned her neck, then peered at me. "What is it?"

  "I was hoping you could tell me."

  She shook her head. "Haven't a clue. Can I go now?"

  "Right after you empty your pockets." I pointed at the cleared end of the table.

  Kass sighed. She pulled her phone from her back pocket and a set of keys from the front. "That's it. I travel light."

  "Holly, I need you to check her pockets for the other part of the photo."

  The little girl's eyes widened. "You want me to, like…I can't."

  Kass glared at me. "This is so ridiculous. I didn't kill Brooke. And I'm not about to be humiliated in a body search. Leave me alone. You can think I'm guilty as much as you want. I'm so out of here."

  She didn't leave, though. Instead, her eyes locked with mine and we stared at each other until she lost her will to resist. Finally, she leaned against the table. "Fine. You want to search my pockets, go ahead. Let's get this over with."

  Kass waited while Holly checked each pocket. Each time, the result was the same. Her hand went in and came out empty.

  When the girl was finished, she stared at me with fire in her eyes. "Nothing."

  It was my turn to feel defeated. I wanted to hop into a real sleigh and fly away. Have the reindeer pull me higher and higher until we were safely away from crime. The prickly skin sensation had spread over most of my body, and I wasn't sure if it was embarrassment or bug bites. Either way, I was no longer thinking clearly. Kass couldn't have killed Brooke, she'd been outside getting stoned. My grand plan was done. So was I.

  "Sorry, Kass," I muttered.

  "Bad Santa. Very. Bad. Santa." She snarled and stormed away.

  I went to the front of the stage and watched her weave her way back to the rest of the group. A couple of minutes later, the predictable happened. The voices grew progressively louder as each one shouted over the other.

  —He did what?

  —This has gone far enough!

  —Who does he think he is?

  —He's the one who needs to be reported!

  Holly and I watched the group at the back of the theater. Good grief. Chance had a huge mess on his hands. It looked like a full-blown riot was about to break out. "Kid, I think Santa's in big trouble."

  17

  THE MOB

  Six yammering actors surrounded Chance. I'd seen him take down much bigger guys in physical confrontations, but he shrank away from the cast as their rants escalated. He glanced past them and motioned for me to join the fray. It sure sounded like they wanted to dispense their own brand of justice on the guy in the red suit. This was definitely going to be less of a rescue than it was a "let's skewer Santa party."

  Not that I didn't feel roasted already. The rash had turned my skin into one big itchy heat zone, and I wanted to scrape every inch of my body with sandpaper. The cops still weren't here, my Santa career was over, and if I didn't find some Christmas magic soon I'd become another victim of our freak storm. Worst of all, a clever killer would soon go free.

  Someone had killed Brooke Cobos, and I had no clue who it might have been. Then there was the fact that I'd irritated most of the cast. Chance would be lucky if they didn't mutiny, and I may well have ruined his debut as a director.

  I scratched at my side as I trudged toward the lynch mob. Kass jabbed a finger at me while berating my investigatory skills. According to her, I was somewhere between inept and incompetent. It seemed pointless to remind her she was being redundant. Instead of adding fuel to the fire, I chose to keep my mouth shut and planted one heavy boot in front of the other.

  When I reached the mob, I raised both hands. "People, people, chillax. I know this has been difficult…"

  Kass pushed past Jack Frost and Scrooge to stand before me. She stabbed me in the chest with her finger. "Difficult? You made that poor girl strip-search me."

  "What?" Arlene shrieked. "You forced my daughter to…to…"

  "It wasn't like that, Mom." Holly went to her mother and took her hand. "Santa wanted to see if Kass was hiding a picture. She said it was cool. Didn't you?" She gazed at Kass, a pleading look on her face.

  Kass nodded, then sighed. "She's right, I agreed. It just irks me."

  "See, Mom, I didn't do nothing bad. It wasn't, like, a big deal. Really."

  The color in Arlene's face flared closer to a bright red with each word her daughter spoke. When Holly gazed up at her mother, Arlene scowled at me. "You are a menace. You're no Santa, you're a pervert. What kind of picture are we talking about? Is that your thing? Dirty photos? Well, Santa?" She spat out the last word, making it sound beyond distasteful.

  "McKenna?"

  Chance stepped backwards. Don't tell me he was going to abandon me, too. I looked to Miller, but he was keeping a low profile. Why would he speak up? He didn't want the photo to become public knowledge. I couldn't blame him, but I wouldn't save him at the expense of finding the killer.

  I cleared my throat. "Kass, I apologize for having upset you. I guess the search thing wasn't a great idea. But, the police are going to want to do the same."

  "What's so important in this picture?" Arlene glared at me.

  Holly gazed up at her mother. "Mom, it's a secret."

  Oh, good grief, kid. Not the thing to say.

  "A secret?" Arlene exploded.

  I shot a quick look at Chance, mentally telegraphing an SOS. He grimaced, but nodded.

  He put a consoling hand on Arlene's shoulder. "Please. If McKenna says this is important, it is. It must have something to do with the case. Right, McKenna?"

  "Correct. All I can say is, it was being used as blackmail and I believe whoever has the photo killed Brooke. The fastest way to resolve this case is to look through everyone's things. Only one of you has the photo."

  "Oh, my head." Mrs. Claus sat down and gently massaged her temples.

  Joy rushed forward. "Let me get a cool washcloth for her."

  I nodded in agreement and she hurried off. As Joy hustled toward the stage, Mrs. Claus fanned herself and regarded me.

  "Since when did she start being nice?" Sweat dripped down her brow, and her eyes looked wild. She gazed after Joy and heaved a deep sigh. "You know what, I'll take it. I don't care what she's up to."

  Well, I did. Mrs. Claus was right; the only person Joy had been nice to all night was Holly. The rumor was she had a crush on Jack Frost, but then why had she been casting hurried looks at Miller all night? With the exception of the two men and Holly, she'd treated everyone with indifference or outright animosity. So when did she turn into Florence Nightingale?

  I spotted my little helper and motioned for her to follow Joy. "Stay out of sight, okay? But, let me know what she does."

  Holly nodded and was off in a shot. She trotted toward the stage and went up the steps where Joy had disappeared backstage. I turned to Jack Frost. "You and Miller are the only other ones she pays attention to. Why? And talk fast. I don't have much time."

  "I invited her to be in the play. She's a barista in the Waikīkī Starbucks. For crying out loud, I told her it would be a good way to loosen up. That's all."

  "Are you kidding?" Wendy the Elf said. "The girl has a huge crush on you. She wasn't here because of the play, she was here because she's infatuated."

  Jack raised his hands in a display of innocence. "There's nothing there. I'm telling you. Nothing."

  "Maybe on your part," Chance said. "But, your little barista can't keep her eyes off you. I have to give her stage directions twice because the first time she's busy going gaga over you."

  "Or somebody else," I said. "Miller, has she been hanging around you a lot?"

  Miller shook his head, but I could tell Jack was remembering something.

  "She came into a conversation between Miller and me. But, that conversation
is privileged."

  He wanted to hide behind the skirts of attorney-client privilege? Give me a break. Maybe there was more to his dealings with Miller than I'd thought. Otherwise, why would he feel a need to keep their dealings secret? I peered at Miller. "Well?"

  He shook his head. "I can't discuss the subject. It was a personal matter."

  I nodded at him, pretty sure the secret was the divorce. "Did Joy seem to like you, Miller?"

  His brow furrowed. "Not in a romantic sense, but we got along. She…um…seemed sympathetic."

  "McKenna, you might be onto something," Chance said. "Now that I think about it, she kept shooting glances at Miller, too. Especially when you guys were together. I could have been wrong about which one of these two she was so taken with. And why."

  "I guess she had a run-in with Brooke at some point." Miller shrugged his indifference. "I never knew what it was about, though."

  "Did anybody see anything between them?" The response was what I'd expected. Everyone exchanged glances, but there were no signs of recognition. A big round of nothing.

  "McKenna," Chance said. "If she and Brooke knew each other from outside the play—we have to find out what connection they had."

  "Right. Where would they have crossed paths? What's Joy's background?"

  "Brooke wouldn't be caught dead in a Starbucks." A small smile appeared on Miller's face. "She called them the scourge of small business. It couldn't have been there."

  I had to agree with him. A barista turned customer-killer seemed pretty farfetched to me. "What about social circles?"

  Miller's eyes crossed. "Seriously? Brooke didn't associate with the working class. She said she got her fill at the shelter."

  "Your wife was a piece of work, you know that, Miller?" Wendy said. "And you, you're not much different. You two thought you were so much better than us commoners because she came from money. I'll tell you something, just because the girl was homeless once doesn't make her any less worthy."

  Chance and I both did a double take. "What did you just say?" I asked. "Joy was homeless?"

  "Sure, before she got the job. She had some hard times thanks to a bad breakup. Boyfriend knocked her around, took her for everything, and she had to put her life back together. I got her into credit counseling and we eventually had her back on track. She found work and a place to live."