Chasing Tinsel (Miranda Vaughn Mysteries) (5 page)

He chuckled. “I know it looks bad, but once you get to know people, it’s not as scary.”
 

I doubted that but didn’t argue with him. “Where to, Murph?”
 

“A couple of blocks up, then turn right. I’ve got a room at
The
Senator
.”
 

I blanched at the name of the single-room-occupancy hotel. Part halfway house and part drug den,
The Senator
was far too lofty a name for that old pile of bricks. It should have been called
The Parolee
or
The Itinerant Worker
.
 

I recognized the four-story building from its many appearances on the evening news’ nightly murder report, and I pulled the Golf Ball up to the curb in front of it. Once I dropped off the seventy-year-old, part-time Santa who had no family on this side of the country, I’d be heading to my Aunt Marie’s cookie-scented house, to my cozy apartment above her garage, with my too-large Christmas tree and ornaments that dated back to my childhood. And Murph would be walking up to his apartment, probably stepping over bodies, to get to a tiny studio with a bare light bulb illuminating a grim and dirty room. At least, that was how I imagined it.
 

Murph gave me a smile and patted my hand.
 

“Now you turn left here and get on that main boulevard to get out of here directly. No dawdling,” he said, reaching for the door handle.
 

I leaned over and helped him with the sticky handle to let him out of the car.
 

“Hey, Murph,” I said, as he stepped out. He paused and looked back at me. “I was just wondering, would you like to come to Christmas dinner at my aunt’s house? It’s a pretty casual thing, but the food’s great. My aunt is the best baker in the city. If you don’t have plans, that is.”
 

Murph’s eyebrows raised and he smiled, the surprise on his face apparent. “Oh, I don’t want to intrude on your family tradition.”
 

“My family is just me and my aunt. On Christmas we invite friends to join us. You know, people who aren’t going out of town for the holiday, or who have to work and can’t travel, or just don’t want to see their own families. It’s more like an open house—come by at any time and leave when you want.”

Suddenly, it wasn’t enough to just extend the offer to Murph. I couldn’t bear the thought of him holed up in a rundown apartment on Christmas. I had no idea what led him to become estranged from his own clan, but he had been nice to me and had lightened my mood.
 

“I mean, we won’t have authentic Italian wedding soup, but I make a damn good clam chowder, and Aunt Marie makes homemade sourdough bread,” I said.
 

He paused, then gave me a slow nod. “You know, I think I would like that,” he said, his eyes crinkling up at the corner when he smiled. “Thank you very much.”
 

I smiled back. “Great, I’m glad you’ll be there.”
 

Murph closed the car door, and I wrapped the bungee cord around the handle and secured it to the emergency brake, then gave him a wave and watched him walk up the path to the brick stairs leading to
The
Senator
. Then I followed his instructions and got out of the neighborhood as quickly as the Golf Ball would take me.
 

“Miranda! Merry Almost-Christmas! Have a cookie!”
 

Breanna thrust a plate piled high with sugar cookies and holiday treats in front of my face.
 

“No, thank you,” I said. After growing up in a bakery, it was easy to walk away from sweet baked goods, though Breanna’s plate did smell good.
 

“Are you sure? I made them,” she said.

“I’m still stuffed from my huge breakfast,” I said.

Even though Christmas Eve was one of the busiest days of the year at the Sugar Plum Bakery, with people picking up their holiday dessert orders, Aunt Marie always took a little time off in the morning to make me a gourmet breakfast on my birthday. This year, she had outdone herself with huevos rancheros, spicy home fries, and cinnamon rolls. And I had outdone myself with how much I’d eaten. Any more and I’d be able to substitute for Murph in the big red suit.
 

“Are you sure?” Breanna waved the plate under my nose. Her eyes were wide and lined with a deep plum from Drake’s holiday eye-shadow kit. I may have indulged at breakfast, but apparently there was still room for a little bit of guilt.
 

“Okay, fine, I’ll take one for later,” I said, picking two cookies off the plate and wrapping them in a napkin.
 

She pulled a piece of plastic wrap over the tray and slid it under the counter. “If you see Pete, let me know. I have a plate for him.”
 

Our snack time was interrupted by a steady stream of shoppers—most of whom were men with a frantic vibe, as if Christmas had snuck up on them. Panicked buyers make for great sales, though, and Breanna and I were a good team. By mid-afternoon, we had run out of shopping bags twice and had to recruit Jeff to help us restock some of the most expensive items. And we’d also added dozens of five-dollar gift cards to the charity drive. At midday, Jeff topped off the cube with the cards that Drake employees had sold so far on Christmas Eve. I was happy to see the box was nearly filled.
 

It was almost enough to make me forget my disappointment from the previous night.
 

Almost.

At the thought of my futile chase of Jake Barnes’ double the previous night, I glanced out the plate glass window toward the jewelry store on the other side of Winter Wonderland. Scanning the crowd, I searched for the couple who had been hanging out there so often in the month I’d been working at Drake’s. This time, they weren’t there, and I was happy not to have to face the man I’d chased into the parking garage. With any luck, I would finish my last shift at Drake’s tonight and not have to learn whether he knew I’d been following him. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain that it was an accidental stalking, and it wasn’t anything personal.

“I think it’s finally starting to slow down,” Breanna said with a deep sigh, studying the waning crowd.
 

The store was closing at six o’clock, and I was counting the minutes until I could get home and relax in front of the fireplace with Aunt Marie, a large eggnog, and a traditional Christmas movie.
 

“What are your plans for Christmas?” I asked Breanna while we straightened the display tables that had been ransacked by the horde of last-minute shoppers.
 

“Midnight mass with my family tonight, and then tomorrow we’re going to my grandparents’ house to open presents. I got my sister one of those cashmere scarfs from upstairs in the boutique. It’s the same exact shade of blue as her eyes. She’s going to love it,” Breanna said, becoming more animated as she talked about her family. “How about you? What are you doing?”
 

“I’ll be at home with my aunt. We’re having about a dozen people over for Christmas dinner. I invited Murph,” I said.
 

“Oh, he’s so nice. The kids liked him a lot more than the other Santas, too. They didn’t cry nearly as much with him,” she said.
 

I’d noticed that, too. Everyone loved Murph.
 

As we watched, he was wandering around the Winter Wonderland display, shaking hands with kids and posing for informal pictures. His elves skulked around in the background. Kevin picked up a foil-wrapped present and bounced it off Jaden’s head. Jaden picked up the North Pole sign and swung it at his friend. Murph moved quickly, grabbing Jaden by his green felt collar and yanking him to his toes, the sign falling to the fake snowdrifts. Murph whispered something in Jaden’s ear, and the young man’s face paled and he gave a quick nod.
 

“Hey, can you cover the counter for a minute? I need to give something to Murph,” I said. At Brenna’s nod, I grabbed an envelope I’d set aside that morning until I’d have a minute to run it out to Santa.
 

I met him near the edge of the fake snowdrifts and gave him the card. “Hi, Murph, Merry Christmas.”
 

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Miranda,” he said, a warm smile on his face.
 

“My aunt’s address is inside, and directions to the house,” I said. “Come by anytime tomorrow. Aunt Marie is looking forward to meeting you.”
 

Murph beamed. “I’m looking forward to meeting her, too. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’ve invited me.”
 

“We’re happy to have you,” I said, then looked around the display. “Looks a little quiet. I guess everyone’s finally getting done with their holiday shopping.”
 

Murph nodded. “I have to say, this job is probably my favorite.”
 

“How many jobs have you had?”
 

He laughed. “Quite a few.”
 

Then he frowned, his gaze behind me. “What are those two hooligans up to?”
 

I turned and saw that the elves were at the far end of the display, near Santa’s throne and the two-story Christmas tree. And right next to the box stuffed with cash and gift cards.
 

One of the elves reached down under the tree, past the empty boxes wrapped in festive paper and tossed something to the other.

“Oh, damn it,” Murph muttered, then looked around. “Where’s Pete?”
 

I looked around and saw Pete standing at the door to Drake’s, taking a cookie off Breanna’s plate while she made googley eyes at him. My gaze went back to the elves, just as Kevin, the one under the tree, pulled a skateboard from underneath the boughs.
 

At the same time, Jaden picked up the item that his buddy had tossed him—a pair of bolt cutters. In a swift move, he raised them over the chain that fastened the gift card box to the elevated stand. I gasped as he cut the metal links.
 

“Pete!” Murph shouted.

Pete’s head swiveled toward us. He dropped the cookie and broke into a run, grabbing his radio and shouting into it. He rushed past me and Murph as the elf toppled the cube onto the skateboard.
 

“Hey! Stop!” Pete yelled, stumbling over the fake snowdrifts and getting tangled in the velvet rope that ran alongside the path to Santa’s throne.
 

“Go!” Jaden yelled.
 

Pete got to his feet in a cloud of dust and glitter and charged toward Kevin. The elf threw the bolt cutters. Pete ducked and the heavy tool pierced an inflatable snowman that let out a hissing raspberry as it deflated.
 

Kevin ran up to the empty podium and the two elves pushed the now-mobile cube, one on each side of it, like the North Pole’s two-man bobsled team. Two other mall security officers raced from the center of the mall, joining Pete in the chase. The cube moved off the carpet, onto the smooth tile floor and picked up speed, scooting along at a fast clip. The elves’ green tights were a blur as they ran full tilt at the double doors leading to the parking lot.
 

Murph and I had been joined by a dozen shoppers and mall employees, watching the drama unfold. Murmurs and gasps of outrage at the brazen heist rippled through the growing crowd.
 

 
Beyond the glass double doors, a white van pulled up outside and screeched to a stop. A man jumped out of the passenger side and pulled open the van’s side door. Then, he ran up to the mall doors and yanked them open, and the cube and the elves sailed through, right to the wide-open van door.
 

“Oh no!” Breanna said, and I realized she was next to me, gripping my arm.
 

I was stunned at the elves’ efficiency and turned to look at Murph, who had a serious, angry expression on his face.
 

“Those little punks,” he muttered, his eyes narrowed.
 

The almost murderous expression was a disconcerting effect with the Santa hat and coat—a look so closely associated with warm childhood memories.
 

A flicker of red behind Murph caught my attention, and I leaned to look past him and then blinked at the sight. Three Santas were running down the nearly empty hall toward the Winter Wonderland display.
 

I glanced around, puzzled. The Santas were under strict orders to stay hidden if there was another jolly fat man in red around, in case there were any kids around.

But these Santas didn’t look like the usual crew—most of whom didn’t need artificial padding in their suits. These Santas were unnaturally slim and running fast without apparent effort. Huge fake white beards covered their faces, and they converged at the corner near Ferris Family Jewelers.
 

“Murph!” I shouted, as what I was seeing sank into my shocked brain. I glanced around for mall security, but they were chasing the elves out of the doors to the parking lot. My feet began moving before my brain was fully engaged and I started to run toward the jewelry store.
 

One of the Santas reached into his belt and pulled something out, swinging it toward the plate glass display window. The sound of glass shattering mixed with the screams from the growing crowd of shoppers, all against a background of the upbeat holiday Muzak. Then more glass breaking as the Santas started smashing the display cases inside the store.

“Miranda! Stop!” Murph shouted. I felt a hand grab at my sleeve, but all I could see was the terror on Mrs. Ferris’ round, sweet face as the Santas stuffed fistfuls of jewelry into their velvet bags. Murph’s grip was enough to throw me off balance, and I tripped over the same velvet rope that had slowed down Pete earlier. I hit the dusty felt floor covering, falling face down in a cloud of ancient glitter.

I scrambled to my feet and took in the pandemonium that surrounded the Winter Wonderland. Two Santas were stuffing their bags with jewelry while a third stood in the entrance to the store, pulling the engagement rings out of the window display. The jewelry store’s employees all dove for cover behind the counters. A shrieking alarm pierced the air, but there were still no mall cops to be seen.