Kristmas Collins (18 page)

The owner shrugged and mumbled something about how he must be hearing things. Having done his neighborly deed, he continued on with his walk. When the coast was clear, Gustavo and Berto headed out of the Yu’s yard, unsure what to do next. Nothing like this had ever happened before.

As the sun began to brighten over the winter sky, the van pulled up behind them. They scrambled inside, more angry than relieved.

Tomás smiled at them. “I wanted to see how you’d respond to a chaotic situation. As we know too well, no plan ever goes as expected. It’s important to be able to respond to sudden changes tonight.”

I got the phone call I’d been waiting for. It was Tomás with the news that the final dress rehearsal went off without a hitch. It was good news, but my bigger problem was straight ahead of me.

I’d been camped out across the street from Nicole’s residence since last night. The minute I received the note from Candi, informing me that Scroggie planned to harm Nicole and her children as a way to get to me, I made up an excuse to leave the charity event and head to Ossining.

Candi risked her cover to get me the information, but a drunken Candi Kane meltdown was not out of the ordinary, and for those who knock her acting skills, it was very believable. And even if Scroggie was on to her, she would be at the
Candy Stripers
auditions today in one of the most crowded shopping areas in the world, so I was confident that she’d be safe … for now.

Up until this point, Scroggie had been playing on my terms, likely thinking that I’d eventually cave in and hand him what he wanted on a silver platter. The fake paparazzi and visits from Gooch were meant to rattle me, but for the most part he’d remained patient. But that strategy had changed, and he was now taking a more direct route. And because of my stupidity, I’d offered up Nicole as a way to do so.

I returned my attention to her mother’s house—still no movement. I wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or not.

My vehicle was situated in the driveway of a neighbor’s house. On my last stalking trip I witnessed them leave with their children and a car packed with gifts. Wherever they were headed, over the hills or to grandmother’s house, it appeared that they planned to stay through the holiday.

The neighborhood was silent over the next half hour, until a snowplow arrived and began clearing a neighbor’s driveway across the street. With my paranoia-meter now off the charts, I studied the plowman from afar. He had a beard and wore a baseball cap. He had a slight frame, definitely not Gooch.

Distracted by the plow, I didn’t even notice the woman step out of the house and march down her driveway. Her bathrobe hung from underneath her winter coat, and even without makeup and with a knit cap pulled over her long red hair, I was still taken by Nicole’s natural beauty. So much so that I didn’t realize that she was walking directly toward me, until it was too late.

I thought to make a run for it, but since I was allegedly protecting her—from a danger I created—it didn’t strike me as the most chivalrous of maneuvers. So my plan was that when she knocked on my window, I would act like she wasn’t there. By the third knock, it was pretty obvious that it wasn’t a very effective strategy.

I rolled down the window, and she looked suspiciously at me. “Hello—I noticed that you’re parked in the McCarty’s driveway. I’m watching their house while they’re on vacation, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Her words were firm, but her tone was friendly. The noise of the plow scraping the ice off the neighboring driveway gave me a moment to come up with a lie. But I couldn’t—I was much better at it in court. I just stared at her.

She focused on my face, and something registered with her—her face twitched in anger. “You!”

“My friends call me Kris,” I responded nervously.

“I’m not your friend! What are you doing here!?”

Once again I couldn’t find the words. But luckily she had plenty to say, so the conversation didn’t lag. “Haven’t you taken enough from our family!?”

“I come in peace.”

“Because of that snake you represented, there will never be any peace for my family.”

“I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories, but …”

“Bring up bad memories? This must be some kind of cruel joke. If you’ve come to take anything else from us, we’re all out—you can’t take blood from a stone!”

“I’m not here to cause you or your children any harm.”

“You leave my children out of this!”

“You’re in danger. I’m here to protect you … and them.” It sounded okay when I said it in my head, but hearing it out loud the statement was laughable.

“That’s a good one—the person we need protection from is you.”

She began stomping away. As she did, she turned back to me. “If you’re still here when I get in the house, I’m calling the police.”

I got out of the car and chased after her. It was a dumb move, but not as idiotic as when I grabbed her arm, attempting to stop her. “You have to listen to me … please,” I pleaded.

When she finished swinging her arms wildly, causing me to let go, she slapped me across the cheek. It stung like nothing I’d ever felt before. “You have some nerve,” she said, and began walking away again.

I called after her, “I don’t have time to explain, but please don’t send your kids to school today. And please
do
call the police—say I threatened you—that way they’ll at least have to patrol the neighborhood.”

She stopped, shaking her head with disgust. “Not that it’s any of your business, but there is no school today. So we’re going to do what we always do on Christmas Eve—take the kids to Santaland. Their father used to take them, but he’s no longer here to do it!”

The point was clear. Nothing had changed since that day in court. Murderer. Blood money.

She turned and stormed back to her house. The shouting had attracted the watchful eyes of a few neighbors, and her mother was now standing on their porch, looking concerned.

I put my tail between my legs and walked back to my vehicle. The plow drove by and the driver gave me a thumbs-up and a wise-ass smile. I gave him the finger.

When I got back in the Volvo, I was greeted by a phone call. It was Libby.

“Where are you?”

I was confused. “I had some business to take care of in Ossining. Why?”

“I tried to get you at home last night, but you weren’t there.”

“The charity event ran late so I slept at a friend’s house. And my cell was off.” Because I was paranoid that the FBI was using technology to track me, but I kept that part to myself. “Why were you trying to reach me?”

“To make sure you were here to pick up the kids this morning. That was the agreement as part of our new guidelines, which I see you either didn’t remember, or failed to take seriously.”

“I didn’t forget—I thought there was school today. Give me an hour and I’ll be there.”

The snowplow pulled into a parking space at the Ossining train station. The driver got out and entered the stretch limousine parked beside it.

She took a seat across from Stone Scroggie and pulled off the fake beard. Gooch was in his familiar seat next to Scroggie, his eyes never leaving his laptop.

Jacqueline got right to the point, “Just like you predicted, Collins tried to warn Nicole Closs of an impending ‘danger’ to her. He spent half the night stationed across from her mother’s house, and they eventually got into a public confrontation. It seems she still holds him responsible for the sins of Diedrich Kerstman.”

“An interesting dynamic between these two, no doubt. He is obsessed with her, and she finds him vile. It sounds like my first marriage,” Scroggie said, and laughed at his attempt at humor.

Gooch joined the laughter. “My favorite part was that he thought he was the one who could save her from this danger.”

The comment turned Scroggie serious. “Collins has a big set of silver bells, I’ll give him that. Hopefully we’ve learned our lesson about underestimating him. Any ideas how he learned that Ms. Closs might be in danger?”

Jacqueline spoke up, “Candi Kane made an appearance at a charity event last night at Temple of Duma’s. She made a fool out of herself, stripping down and providing a private dance for Collins, before being thrown out.”

“What she was doing was trying to make a fool out of
us.
A perfect opportunity to transfer the Closs information to him,” Gooch said.

“I’m getting the idea that my girlfriend isn’t as loyal as she claims,” Scroggie said with a sardonic grin.

“It’s likely that they’ve been conspiring together for the entire time. I would be suspect of all the interactions we taped between them,” Gooch added.

“It never seems to work out well for Collins when he collaborates with Candi Kane,” Scroggie said. “But I’m more interested in his relationship with this Closs woman. I think I will have them over to my house for Christmas Eve and see if any sparks fly. It’s the least I can do for Collins, since he’s been so nice to hold onto my money for me these past few years.”

Jacqueline nodded. “Nicole Closs stated that she would be taking her children to Santaland today, we can pick them up there.”

Scroggie laughed devilishly. “Looks like both of Kris Collins’ girlfriends will be at Macy’s today. Talk about killing two birds with one stone.”

“What about Candi Kane?” Gooch inquired, sounding bored.

“She has worked very hard trying to deceive me, so I think she’s earned a long vacation. I’ll leave you in charge of that, Gooch.”

“How long do you suggest it be?”

“Permanent,” he replied coldly.

Stone Scroggie looked out the window and couldn’t hold back a smile. “I think it’s going to be the merriest of Christmases this year.”

Hope Roberts stepped out of the taxi at Herald Square. She felt like she was standing at the center of the Christmas universe. Swarms of last minute shoppers raced by her, the smell of roasting chestnuts drifted from pushcarts, and the Salvation Army rang their bells.

In front of her stood Macy’s, with its large sign reading
Believe
. She didn’t exactly believe that she would get one of the final two spots for the new
Candy Stripers,
but like her name, she did have some hope.

Not to say it wouldn’t be the long shot of all long shots. And noticing the many power-shopping women gliding by her in their stylish outfits, gripping their giant shopping bags, she realized how over her head she was. She was anything but stylish in her heavy parka that covered her flannel shirt and jeans, with her hair worn in a ponytail. It was the outfit she wore for her job at the Christmas tree lot, which she cut out of early this morning, claiming she was suffering from “female issues”—an excuse that never failed to work on her male boss. She then raced to the train, and an hour later here she was.

She rushed into the revolving doors of the Seventh Avenue entrance. Maybe too fast. Her backpack got stuck as the door rotated and she fell, the bag remaining lodged in the door and dragging her. A security guard saved her from being trampled to death, but not from embarrassment.

She had no more time to waste—it would truly be a Miracle on 34th Street for her to make it to the audition on time. She secured her bag and ran past the dirty looks of the shoppers she’d held up, and into the block-long main floor. Her focus was grabbed by the decorated display cases and the model-looking women offering samples of the latest perfume, which caused her to run right into … Mrs. Claus.

Hope began to apologize, but then she realized who it was. She was stunned. “Oh my God, what are you doing here!?”

“I work here. Santa and I are doing some meet and greets on the fifth floor. I think the real question is—what suddenly got into you?”

“I’m … um … I thought about what you said and ...”

Mrs. Claus grinned. “About time you decided to take my advice.”

“About time? I just met you yesterday.”

“Better late than never. But too bad you’re not gonna get the part.”

“Then why did you convince me to come here?”

“I didn’t convince you of anything—you’re here because you want to be here. I meant you’re not going to become a
Candy Striper
in that outfit. Where do you live, in the woods?” She brushed pine needles off Hope’s shoulder.

“I had to go to my job at the Christmas tree lot to fake out my mom. I brought my hair and makeup stuff.” She held up the backpack as proof. “And I read that they provide the wardrobe for the contestants.”

“Why are you talking to me?”

“What? You asked me a question.”

“You didn’t come here to be interviewed by me, you came to win that spot. So don’t let anybody trash-talk you out of your dreams, especially some Mrs. Claus impersonator who took the easy way out. Now get your ass to that audition before it’s too late!”