Santa Sleuth

Santa Sleuth

by

Kathi Daley

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2015 by Katherine Daley

Version 1.0

All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form.

A very special thanks to the gang who hangs out at Kathi Daley Books group page for sharing their Christmas memories when I needed a boost to get my mojo back. This book is dedicated to all of you.

Bree Heron

Barbara Hawk

Joann Hunter

Dawn Frazier

Linda McDonald

Taryn Lee

Kathy Kirkland

Bonnie Littleton

Sharon Robinson Dixon

Robin Coxon

Lisa Morin

Sandy Swanger Bartles

Donna L. Walo-Clancy

Shelli King

Peg Halley

Martha Hawk

Deb Forbes

Karen Borowski

Risa Rispoli

Kathleen Costa

Karen White

Van Loving Melton

Kathy Dunn

Teri Fish

Michele Hayes

Megan Smith

Teresa Terrell Fender

Dana Barrentine

Michele Hayes

Sharon Frank

Chassity Biddix

Cindy Olmstead Russell

Linda Kuzminczuk

Stephanie Treadway Hobrock

Janel Flynn

Della Williamson

Joanne Kocourek

Donna Pittman Robinson

Pam Paison

Chrissy Marie Raney

Mari Hinton

Kristin Wolf

Mary Brown

Misty Garoutte Clarkson

Lynn Hogan

Jeannie Daniel

Laura S Reading

Sharon Forrest

Martie Peck

Pamela Dennis Petteway

Vikki Partlow-Anderegg

Suzanne Boyd

Peggy Hyndman

Ruth Nixon

Christy Maurer

Linda Murray

TJ Morris

Mary Reese Robinette

Vicki Gardner

Sherrylrae Wicker

Sheryl Hagan-Booth

Janet Strasemeier

Sandie Dunlap-Mumford

April Schilling

Bonnijean Marlow Marley

Elaine Klingbeil

Hester Regan

Annette Guerra

Margarita De Jesus

Carol Smith

Betty Jo English

Sue Pippins

K’Tee Bee

Candace Wolfenbarger Knight

Yvonne Gilbert

Louse Ann Laba

Rhonda J Gothier

Bar Bristol Wiesmann

Stacy Smith

Janet Rose

Wanda Philmon Downs

Suzanne Sarnowski Marzano

Shelli King

Brooke Bumgardner

Kim Templeton

Stacy Smith

Toni King

Pat Walker Pinkston

Debbie Studstill Cox Hiemstra

Barb Kolasky

Diane Blaser

Judy Liggett Weaver

I also want to thank the very talented Jessica Fischer for the cover art.

I so appreciate Bruce Curran, who is always ready and willing to answer my cyber questions.

And, of course, thanks to the readers and bloggers in my life, who make doing what I do possible.

Thank you to Randy Ladenheim-Gil for the editing.

Special thanks to Nancy Farris, Joanne Kocourek, Marie Rice, Pam Curran, Vivian Shane, Teresa Kander, Wanda Downs, Elaine Robinson, Kathleen Kaminski, and Janel Flynn for submitting recipes.

And finally I want to thank my sister Christy for always lending an ear and my husband Ken for allowing me time to write by taking care of everything else.

Books by Kathi Daley

Come for the murder, stay for the romance.

Zoe Donovan Cozy Mystery:

Halloween Hijinks

The Trouble With Turkeys

Christmas Crazy

Cupid’s Curse

Big Bunny Bump-off

Beach Blanket Barbie

Maui Madness

Derby Divas

Haunted Hamlet

Turkeys, Tuxes, and Tabbies

Christmas Cozy

Alaskan Alliance

Matrimony Meltdown

Soul Surrender

Heavenly Honeymoon

Hopscotch Homicide

Ghostly Graveyard

Santa Sleuth

Shamrock Shenanigans –
January 2016

Paradise Lake Cozy Mystery:

Pumpkins in Paradise

Snowmen in Paradise

Bikinis in Paradise

Christmas in Paradise

Puppies in Paradise

Halloween in Paradise

Whales and Tails Cozy Mystery:

Romeow and Juliet

The Mad Catter

Grimm’s Furry Tail

Much Ado About Felines

Legend of Tabby Hollow

Cat of Christmas Past

A Tale of Two Tabbies –
February 2016

Seacliff High Mystery:

The Secret

The Curse

The Relic

The Conspiracy

The Grudge –
December 2015

Road to Christmas Romance:

Road to Christmas Past

Chapter 1

Saturday, December 12

There was absolutely no question in my mind; I was going to kill my best friend, Levi Denton, when I next saw him. I loved the guy like a brother, but it seemed that as of late he’d been flaking on his commitments, and this time his flakiness had directly affected me. When I caught up with the guy he was going to be deader than deadonia.

“We’re ready for you,” Ellie Davis, the third member of the Zoe, Levi, and Ellie best friend triad informed me.

“I look ridiculous.”

“You look fine,” Ellie assured me.

“Seriously?” I looked down at the
much
too big Santa suit I was wearing. “The pants are twice as long as my legs, the jacket hangs down to my shins, and the beard is way too long, not to mention scratchy. I look like a kid playing dress up.”

“The kids aren’t going to care that you’re a teeny, tiny Santa. They just want to tell you their wish, take a photo, and get a free candy cane.”

Oh, God, the photo. I hadn’t stopped to consider the photo. Zoe Donovan-Zimmerman, midget Santa, was going to be immortalized in photo albums across Ashton Falls for generations to come.

“Isn’t there anyone else who can do this?” I asked.

“Not really. Levi still isn’t answering his cell, Ethan had to leave, Hazel is busy with the craft fair, and I’m still not totally over my cold, so I really shouldn’t be getting up close and personal with toddlers.”

Ellie sounded fine to me. Her brown eyes seemed bright and cheery, and the red rim around her nose that had been apparent earlier in the week was totally gone. I hadn’t heard her cough or sneeze all day. If I had to guess she was just using the cold to avoid Santa duty.

“I’m afraid, my friend, that until Levi finally shows, the part of Santa is going to have to be played by you,” Ellie added.

I wanted to argue, but I didn’t. Ellie had taken over as chairperson for Hometown Christmas when my dad, who was supposed to be in charge of the event, decided to go to Switzerland with my mother, who wanted to visit her family, so I supposed I owed her on behalf of the Donovan family.

“Fine. Let’s get this over with.” I pulled up the legs of the giant pants I was wearing and headed toward the Santa booth that had been set up in the community center.

I looked around the large room. It was beginning to fill up, although I knew the crowds would be three times as large the next weekend. The bulk of the Hometown Christmas events would take place the following Friday through Sunday, but the Santa booth, as well as the craft fair, sleigh rides, and ice skating rink, were featured every weekend between Thanksgiving and Christmas.

“Why don’t you go ahead and get started?” Ellie suggested. “I’m just going to run into the back to get the camera.”

“Very well. But hurry.” I adjusted the pillow Ellie had placed between my T-shirt and the Santa jacket after I sat down on the giant Santa chair. The chair, like the suit, had been designed to accommodate a fully grown man and not a child-size woman, which meant that my feet, once I sat back in the chair, didn’t even touch the ground. I just hoped there weren’t any kids in line who were bigger than me.

“Ho, ho, ho,” I greeted the first toddler in the deepest voice I could muster.

The child began to cry.

“Don’t cry,” I said in a softer and gentler voice.

The child began to scream at the top of her lungs.

I looked helplessly at her mother, who picked up her hysterical daughter and plopped her in my lap.

“She just needs to get used to you,” the girl’s mother assured me. “Why don’t you talk to her while I run over to the booth with the ornaments?”

“You’re leaving?” I asked with a slight hint of hysteria in my voice.

“Just for a minute. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I wanted to argue with the woman, but she took off like a flash, leaving me with her still-crying child in my lap. Geez. How
did
I get myself into these situations?

“So what do you want for Christmas?” I asked the toddler in an attempt to gain her attention.

She cried louder.

“I feel your pain,” I sympathized. This was even worse than I’d imagined. People were beginning to look at me like I was pinching the child or something. “Do you want some candy?”

The toddler tried to wriggle off my lap. I caught her at the last minute, just as she was about to fall head first onto the floor.

I had to be the worst Santa in the history of all Santas.

“Sorry that took so long.” Ellie jogged up with the camera. “I couldn’t find the film. We really do need to go digital next year.” Ellie looked at the child in my lap and then looked around the room. “Where’s the mother?”

“Shopping.”

“She left her child with you while she went shopping?”

“She said she’d be back in a jiff, but it seems like it’s been longer than a jiff. I don’t suppose you’d like to take over?”

Ellie set down the camera and picked the screaming child up off my lap. She immediately stopped crying. “I’ll go find the mother and return her daughter to her while you talk to the little girl who just walked up.”

I let out a long breath of relief and then looked toward the mostly nonexistent line. There was only one child waiting at this point, but at least she was a little older and didn’t appear to be afraid of teeny, tiny Santa.

“Ho, ho, ho,” I said as the girl, who looked to be about five, approached.

“Are you the real Santa?” The girl looked at me with doubt on her face.

“No,” I admitted. “I’m Santa’s helper. Santa is very busy at this time of year so he needs others to help out.”

“But you can get a message to the real Santa?”

“Absolutely.”

The girl reached into the back pocket of her dirty jeans and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Is that your Christmas list?” I asked as she began to unfold it.

“I only want one thing for Christmas,” the girl answered. “I want Santa to find Cupcake.”

“Cupcake?”

The girl handed me the sheet of paper she was holding, which featured a photo of a dog about Charlie’s size with long black fur.

“Me and Dad and Cupcake moved to Ashton Falls a week ago,” the girl explained. “On our first night there was a storm and Cupcake was scared. She was barking and crying, so Dad put her out in the yard. He said he needed to get some sleep for his new job the next day and she was keeping him awake. There was a hole in the fence and Cupcake got out. I’ve looked and looked, but I can’t find her. Dad says I need to accept that she’s gone, but I can’t do that. I love her. Since Mom died she’s my best friend. Please tell Santa that all I want for Christmas is to have Cupcake back.”