Mall Santa Murder: A Cozy Christmas Mystery (Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Book 1) (4 page)

Then Gemma heard what she thought at first was a kitten. While her laptop booted up, her gaze swept the area, looking for the source of the quiet mewling. A cat, she thought. Here inside the mall? No way.

Listening intently, she heard it again and turned her head this way and that, trying to find the direction the sound was coming from. Finally, she narrowed it down to either Santa Land or the boutique just behind it. Maybe a kitten had somehow gotten locked inside, smuggled in by one of the kids.

Taking care to lock the kiosk behind her, Gemma moved slowly in that direction, wincing at her own echoing footsteps in the silence. She peered through the metal bars that guarded the front of the boutique. When she saw nothing inside, she turned away and stood there for a moment listening.

Then she noticed the little girl hidden by one of the plastic reindeer, just inside the entrance to Santa Land. The sight of that little girl with her blonde hair in pigtails and tears streaming down her face nearly broke Gemma’s heart. Wearing jeans, raggedy looking sneakers and a dirty pink shirt with a puppy on the front, she couldn’t have been more than five years old.

Gemma hurried toward her. “Honey, honey what’s wrong?”

The child’s only response was to stare at Santa’s empty chair and sob even harder.

“Oh, my, sweetie, don’t cry,” Gemma said when she reached the child. “Santa will be here soon.”

“Santa’s lit,” the little girl hiccupped.

Santa’s always lit, Gemma thought grimly as she scanned the area, not seeing Santa anywhere.

“I don’t think he’s here,” Gemma said. She knelt down on the floor so she could be eye-level with the little girl. “Do you see him anywhere?”

The child pointed just as Gemma saw the bottom of a black boot. She closed her eyes and hugged the little girl closer. The idiot had passed out on the floor between his chair and the plastic poinsettias beside it. He even had a string of lights wrapped around one of his legs.

“Come on, sweetie, let’s go find your mommy,” Gemma said, doing her best to shield the child from the sign of Santa passed out drunk.

“She’s not here yet,” the little girl said with a sniff.

“Not here?”

“Not yet. Mommy is supposed to pick me up later,” she explained, Santa temporarily forgotten. “I was supposed to stay with Santa until she came.” The child burst into tears again.

Life in a small town, Gemma thought. She was sure the child had to be mistaken somehow, but before she could think much further than that she looked up to see Rosalie McLear striding toward her. The tiny woman looked even more disheveled than before and her face clouded with concern when she saw Gemma with the child.

“Kami, what are you doing?” Rosalie asked sharply, but her voice and the look on her face softened when she drew closer and saw that the child had been crying.

“Santa’s lit,” Kami said, breaking away from Gemma to run to her mother.

Kami began crying again. Rosalie looked at the empty Santa space and rolled her eyes. Then she shared a look with Gemma that said this was about what she expected.

Gemma shrugged, not knowing what to do or say. There was no way she could make this situation any better.

“He’s her step-dad," Rosalie explained. "I work nights at a nursing home and we had an unexpected death this morning. The babysitter dropped her off, and he was supposed to watch her until I could get here.” She stopped and shook her head. “Thank goodness you came along, because he obviously can’t keep it together even for a child.”

Waves of anger rolled off of Rosalie, so fierce and hot that it caused Gemma to take a step back.

“I’m sorry,” was all she could think of to say.

“I should have known I couldn’t depend on him,” Rosalie said, her voice tight. “Thank you for looking after Kami. I appreciate it.”

With the child in tow, she turned and walked away from Gemma, heading for one of the anchor stores on the opposite end of the mall. Gemma was grateful that the entrance was in the opposite direction, which meant the child wouldn’t see her step-dad passed out in the middle of Santa Land.

Gemma closed her eyes when she heard children squealing with laughter at the other end of the mall and realized that they were headed her way. She was going to have to do something to prevent another embarrassing situation for everyone. She looked up to see Bill, who had apparently been watching the whole exchange between her and Rosalie. He stood at the entrance to his kiosk, arms crossed across his chest with a smug smile on his face.

“Bill, please stop those children from coming this way while I get figure out how to get Santa out of here,” Gemma shouted to him.

Bill nodded and moved in that direction.

Gemma went to where Santa lay, reached down and shook his foot. “Santa,” she called out to him. “Sam. Santa.” She shook the foot harder. No response.

From where she stood, she could see a plastic reindeer antler clutched in Santa’s hand as if he’d grabbed for it when he fell. He seemed to be tangled up in the lights, too. Gemma figured he had just passed out and grabbed everything as he fell, but he seemed to be out cold and there was no way she could pick him up by herself.

Gemma stood up and looked around. Where was all this security when she needed it? Maybe if she tried tugging on his arm, she could get him to wake up.

She was bending over to give it a try when she saw his face. His pale blue eyes were wide open, staring at nothing. His lips were blue, too. But what caught and held her attention was one of the heavy silver garlands that decorated Santa Land tangled in his beautiful beard and wrapped tightly around his neck.

“Need help?” It was Grady Jackson, giving her a curious look. He wouldn't be able to see Santa from that angle.

“Oh, yeah,” she said slowly, getting to her feet and backing carefully away from the body. “You might want to call 911.”

“A passed out Santa is nothing I can’t handle,” Jackson began as he sauntered into the gates of Santa Land. “I’ll get the old coot back in the break room and sober him up.”

“Santa is dead,” Gemma said. The words sounded very, very wrong to her ears, and she felt goosebumps bloom along her arms.

“Dead!” Grady said, scurrying around to her side. She stepped sideways so that he could see.

“What's wrong?” It was Bill. Somehow he had managed to send the children off in another direction and Gemma assumed, had come back to help her.

“Santa’s dead,” Gemma repeated, suddenly feeling hot and dizzy.

As she looked from Bill’s astonished face to Jackson’s, she realized that someone else had joined them. Looking past Bill, she saw Ralph the Elf. He stood apart from the other two, hands on his thin hips, tummy stretching his green costume.

“What’s he done now?” Ralph sneered.

“He’s dead,” Gemma repeated. Why couldn’t she stop saying that?

“I’m not surprised,” Ralph scoffed. “I told him one of these days some jealous husband was going to take him out. Looks like my prediction came true.”

Gemma’s knees felt like water as she watched Jackson finally begin to dial 911 on his cell phone. She heard him say, “No need to make a big deal out of this and scare everyone. He’s already gone. No need for sirens.”

Everyone else just stood there while a spirited rendition of Here Comes Santa Claus flowed out of the mall’s PA system.

This Santa wasn’t going anywhere.

F
or some reason, Gemma felt like she should stay with the body until the police arrived. Bill and Jackson both seemed to feel that way, too. Ralph the Elf appeared to be in charge of Santa Land, at least temporarily, while making calls on his cell phone. Obviously Santa would have to be replaced and Gemma assumed Ralph was calling the agency or whoever Santa worked for to get a replacement.

The rescue squad arrived first and Gemma was surprised to see that both of the EMTs were women. They quickly came to the same conclusion she had and one of them made a quiet telephone call.

“We’re alerting the authorities,” the other uniformed woman. She looked very young and a little pale. “Did anyone touch or move anything?”

“I touched his foot,” Gemma said, her voice shaking slightly. “I thought he was...”

“That’s fine." The woman shot her a reassuring smile. "The police will need to know that, though, so please stay close,” she said softly.

“How did he die?” Bill asked.

“Looks like he was strangled with garland,” the EMT worker had finished her phone call. “I’ve contacted the coroner and the police. They’ll be arriving shortly. I’m sure they’ll want to question all of you.”

Still reluctant to leave Santa, Gemma remembered that she was supposed to call Holly and then rearrange the kiosk a little that morning so that it didn’t look so empty. Looking for something to calm her rattled nerves, she had just started in that direction when the coroner arrived. In reality the county coroner was a local doctor, Dr. Biggs. Tall and thin, Gemma thought he looked like Ebenezer Scrooge. He nodded a greeting when he passed her but was more focused on where the EMTs were kneeling over the body.

Gemma’s cell chimed just as she reached the HealthGems kiosk. She accepted the call with a shaking finger. It was Nick.

“Okay, what’s going on?” The tone of his voice was anything but conversational.

“I, um, I found Santa dead this morning here at the mall,” she told him, her voice shaking as badly as her finger had earlier.

“I just pulled up out front. There are three police cars here and the coroner’s van,” he told her. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Gemma assured him, although she really didn’t feel so fine.

“I’ll be right in,” he said and ended the call.

Gemma stood there for a moment, watching the activity increase around Santa Land as more and more professionals arrived. The scene seemed surreal. Uniformed officers were stringing up yellow crime scene tape. The coroner, who was talking to a tall broad shouldered man in a dark blue suit, was snapping off his blue gloves. It looked like he had just finished with the initial examination of the body. The crime scene techs seemed to be working quickly to finish their work so that the body could be removed.

Her cell rang again, this time it was Holly. “Hello.”

“Hey, what’s going on down there? Dad just heard something on the scanner.”

“Santa’s dead,” Gemma said quietly.

“What?”

“I found him this morning.” She said quietly.

“Oh my God, Gemma. Are you okay?” Holly sputtered into the phone. Before Gemma could answer she said, “I’m on my way.”

Even as she talked to Holly, she kept her eye on the crowd around Santa Land. Grady Jackson stood close by the coroner and the other man who she assumed was a detective from the police department.  Bill had returned to his kiosk but was watching the proceedings with morbid interest. Gemma wondered where Edna was today and decided she was glad the frail looking elderly woman wasn’t there. Ralph the Elf paced nearby and appeared to be talking to himself.

Dr. Biggs finished his conversation with the detective and left.  Gemma watched as the man detective walked around the scene and took some notes, asked some questions and then turned to Grady Jackson.

The next thing she saw was both of them looking at her.

Jackson nodded in her direction and the detective started toward her, his movements confident and sure. Even through the haze of her shock, a small part of her mind noticed how well his clothing accentuated his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Vaguely, she wondered if he had them tailored. As he drew closer she saw dark brown eyes in a handsome face. His looks and coloring hinted of Italian or Greek blood in his lineage.

“Hello,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Detective Ross Ferguson.” He smiled at her, a dimple forming in his right cheek.

Gemma shook hands, noting that his grip was firm but not bone-crushing.

“I’ll be investigating this case,” he said with that friendly little smile.

“Gemma Stone,” she said her name, expecting to have to explain it, but he made no comment.

“I understand you found the body.”

Gemma nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“And you touched his foot?” he asked. His voice was soft. “Which one?”

Gemma tried to corral her thoughts. “Yes, sir, um, I’m not sure. Maybe the right one?”

Detective Ferguson made a note in his little notebook. Both the pencil and the pad looked small in his big hands.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Nick approaching.

“Why were you here at the mall so early?” he asked, as if he was asking her the time of day.

“This is my business. I’m running this kiosk through December. It was my turn to come in early,” she explained, gesturing toward the kiosk.

How well did you know Mr. um...,” he paused to look up the name. “...McLear. Sam McLear.”

Gemma shook her head. “Not well at all. I mean, we’ve all just been here at the mall the past few days.”

“Ross?” Nick said when he reached them. The men shook hands.

Gemma blinked.

“Nick. Good to see you,” the detective said. “Are you going to cover this for the paper?”

“Yes. I spoke to my editor on the way over,” Nick told him.

“Good. I’ll fill you in on any details as soon as I get them,” he said to Nick, that easy smile appearing again.

Gemma compared the two men in front of her. Both were handsome, in an alpha sort of way, but they didn't appear to be at odds with one another. The detective, with his darker complexion, seemed really serious, but Nick was half-turned toward her and less pensive looking; the classic guy next door.

“I’d appreciate that,” Nick said and then turned to reach for Gemma. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yes,” Gemma whispered, taking his hand. The lump in her throat and her trembling knees made her wonder if she would ever be okay again.

Detective Ferguson looked from one of them to the other, questions in dark eyes.

“We’re friends,” Gemma explained to the detective quickly. “We grew up here together.”

“I’m going to meander around and get a feel for things,” Nick said quickly and then he was gone.

“Go ahead and enjoy your coffee for a few minutes,” Detective Ferguson said. “This must have been quite a shock.”