Mall Santa Murder: A Cozy Christmas Mystery (Gemma Stone Cozy Mystery Book 1) (3 page)

“He’s not going to wait for you forever,” Holly said, coming up behind her.

“I don’t know that I want him to wait for me. I may never get over this,” Gemma said taking another sip of her latte.

“You will,” Holly said, squeezing Gemma’s fingers.

Before Holly could say anything else, Santa began a rousing chorus of Jingle Bells and every child in the area joined in. Ralph the Elf, who had been trying to organize the line and placate impatient parents, threw up his hands in disgust and walked away from the crowd.

“I
don’t understand,” Holly said, shaking her head and staring at the piece of paper in front of her.

“What don’t you understand?” Gemma asked.

She had been out to a late lunch with Nick, hurrying back with a sandwich because she knew Holly would be hungry. Their kiosk had been so busy for the past two days that neither of them had taken much time away from it. Thank goodness Holly’s mom Brenda had offered to help during the week days.

“There are some discrepancies in the numbers,” Holly said, clicking her pen rapidly - a sure sign that she was worried about something.

“Maybe we just miscounted,” Gemma suggested.

“Maybe you miscounted,” Holly said, a smile softening her words.

“It’s a distinct possibility,” Gemma agreed.

Despite her creative, artistic nature, Holly was deadly with numbers. She counted everything two or three or more times until she was absolutely sure she was correct. But they’d been there for two days and the big shopping weekend was almost over. It was entirely possible that Gemma had miscounted something. Or that Holly was tired.

“Eat first. We’ll worry about that later,” Gemma said, offering the sandwich she’d purchased for her friend’s lunch.

They talked about how to divide up their schedule beginning Monday morning. The mall didn’t open till ten but was staying open till ten every night in the attempt to draw in more business. Gemma volunteered to come in early and open up the kiosk. Then Holly’s mom, Brenda, who knew their product as well as they did, had agreed to work in the slower middle of the day, with Holly coming in around mid-afternoon. Gemma would come back to help Holly with the busy evening hours. It was a grueling schedule but both women knew they were in for a long, rewarding December.

While the evening wore on, Gemma watched their customer closely. One or two picked up the rings they’d put out on the counter for display and for more serious customers to try out. It would be easy for someone to slip a piece of jewelry in their pocket when no one was looking.

Later, as they were closing up, Edna and Bill came over to their kiosk. They both looked distressed, Bill more than Edna. He kept glancing over his shoulder at Santa Land, where Santa was telling some fantastical story to the last of the children.

“What’s wrong?” Gemma asked.

“Someone stole some of our things,” Edna said softly.

“Not someone...”

Edna held up her hand cutting him off. “We don’t know that.” And then she turned to Gemma. “We were wondering if you guys were missing anything.”

Holly joined them just in time to hear her question. “I believe we are missing some things. Not a lot but enough to get my attention.”

Edna and Bill exchanged glances.

“Some of the other kiosk owners are complaining, as well as the manager of the GNC, Mona over at Mona Joys, and the Bath and Body Works lady,” Edna told them.

“You want to know what I think.” Bill began.

Edna tried to stop him but this time she was unsuccessful.

“I think it was that drunken Santa, Sam McLear, who managed to steal from us.” Bill said, his face turning red as his anger flared.

“That’s a pretty strong accusation,” Holly said.

“It was either him or one of those guys pretending to be elves,” he snorted.

Gemma didn’t think Santa was sober enough to steal from anyone, but she kept that thought to herself.

“I’ve seen him hanging around over here,” Bill said, as if to prove his point.

“He just keeps asking me out,” Gemma said. She didn't know why, but she felt the need to defend Santa. “I think he’s harmless - just annoying.”

“Have you talked to security?” Holly asked.

“I mentioned it, but G.I. Joe blew me off,” Bill said, rolling his eyes.

Gemma almost giggled at that description of Grady Jackson. He certainly was all spit-shined and sharp creases, down to that buzzed haircut.

“Maybe if we all went to him at the same time...” Edna suggested.

Holly looked at Gemma. “I’m sure we’re missing some rings, a pendant and at least one of those watches,” she said.

Then Gemma remembered what Nick had told her about the thefts downtown. “Okay, let’s find Mr. Jackson.”

They didn’t find the head of security until they were locking up for the night. Gemma saw Bill and Edna walking with him toward their kiosk. He looked concerned and seemed to be giving them his full attention.

“Tell him,” Bill said when they reached the spot where Holly and Gemma were standing.

“I’ve made a list,” Holly said and pushed it toward the security guard. “It looks like three biorhythm rings, a heart rate pendant and a watch.”

Grady Jackson studied the list for a moment. “When do you think this happened?”

Gemma shrugged. “It’s hard to say exactly.”

He glanced up at her.

“I heard other shop owners were having a problem as well,” Gemma added. "It's been busy."

“No one else has said anything to me,” he said, still holding Holly’s list. “Listen, could you write down the approximate value of these items, just in case?”

Holly found a pen, added the numbers to her list, and handed it back to him.

“Thanks,” he said with a little smile. “You folks do the same. Tomorrow I’ll have my guys talk to everyone and gather as much information as we can.”

“Shouldn’t we alert the police?” Gemma asked.

Jackson looked indignant. “If we can’t get to the bottom of this pretty quickly, yes. But until then we really don’t have much to go on. I mean, do you guys have any idea of who it might have been?”

Gemma thought about all of the people she had talked to over the weekend. After a while all the faces blurred into one and she was sure it was the same for all the shop owners. Everyone shook their head except Bill. He looked pointedly at Santa.

Grady Jackson followed Bill’s gaze and then laughed. “Sam McLear? That old coot? He can barely stand up much less steal anything.”

Well, there was at least one thing they agreed on.

“I’ll also see if the owners will let me pull in a few more guys. The more eyes we have on the place, the better we can protect you,” Jackson added, taking charge of the situation.

They all agreed that seemed to be a good course of action, at least temporarily, and the meeting was over. Gemma and Holly locked everything up except their order list, which Gemma planned to work on before she came into the mall.

When they left, Grady Jackson was having an animated conversation with Santa. Gemma hoped no one else had accused the old man of theft. Surely, Jackson knew better than to make an unwarranted accusation. She didn’t exactly love Santa, but she didn’t want to see anyone lose their job, especially at this time of year. For once Ralph the Elf seemed to be leaving Santa alone.

While she waited for her car to decide to go into drive, she thought back to when Santa had been at their kiosk. If he stole something from them, he was quicker than she imagined he could be. The more she thought about it, the more she was sure he wasn’t the culprit. She also tried to remember if he’d been over at Bill and Edna’s kiosk and she couldn’t readily say whether he had or had not.

“Good girl,” she said when she realized the car had finally shifted into drive.

On her way home, Gemma stifled several huge yawns. She couldn’t believe how tired she was. It was just eight o’clock and all she could think about was crawling into bed. Part of her fatigue was due to the long weekend on her feet but it took her forever to get used to the time change. Just as she was unlocking her door, jingle bells began playing from her purse. She fished out her cell phone and smiled when she saw Nick’s number on the screen.

“Hello,” she said, her smile growing wider at the sound of his voice.

“Hey, are you home yet?” he asked.

“Just unlocked the door,” she told him.

“Would you like some company?”

“Yes - especially if that company brought wine with him,” she said.

“On my way.”

By the time Nick arrived, Gemma had changed into warm sweats and one of her dad’s old sweaters. It was miles too big for her small frame but it comforted her when she wore it. She built a fire to take the chill off of her living room and already had two wine glasses waiting on the kitchen counter.

The day before Thanksgiving, with Holly’s encouragement, she had managed to get the Christmas tree out of the attic and put it together. All the old decorations were neatly organized in several boxes sitting nearby. Every time Gemma picked one up, the loss of her parents hit her full force, almost bringing her to her knees. And just when she thought she had cried all of the tears she could, more came. Eventually, she gave up and slipped the boxes of ornaments under the tree, vowing to do the decorations later. How was she ever going to decorate the tree if she couldn’t even pick up one of the ornaments?

She was contemplating trying again when Nick arrived.

“You look tired,” Nick said, kissing her forehead and giving her a quick hug.

“I am,” Gemma confessed. “But from the by-lines I’ve been seeing in the paper all weekend, you should be exhausted.”

Nick smiled and poured a glass of wine for each of them. “It’s been a busy news weekend.”

“Are we celebrating sales?” he asked, touching his glass to hers.

She nodded. “Oh, yes.” And when she told him their total take for the weekend, he was as excited as she was.

In the living room, she sat on the sofa and he sat in the floor at her feet, poking at the fire absentmindedly.

“I didn’t see anything on your story about the rash of shoplifting incidents,” she said, running her fingers through his dark hair.

He massaged her feet through her fuzzy socks. “No, they didn’t think it was a good idea to print that story this weekend. And, besides, it’s not really finished yet.”

“I have something to add to it,” she said.

He looked up at her quickly.

“Someone took some of our things,” she said. “Not a ton of stuff but enough for us to notice.”

“Any ideas?” he asked.

“Nick, there were so many people around this weekend, it’s impossible for me to remember any one in particular,” she said.

He nodded. “Sounds like a familiar story.”

“The other artisans reported thefts, too, as well as GNC, the lingerie shop and Bath and Body Works,” she told him.

“Reported to who?”

“The head of security. A guy named Grady Jackson. None of us could tell him much, but he seemed to take it seriously. He asked for a list of our missing items and their value. Says he’s going to try to beef up security for the next few days.”

Nick nodded as if he agreed with that strategy.

Their glasses were empty and Gemma was grateful when Nick took hers and filled it up with wine from the bottle they’d brought into the living room with them. Between the wine and the warm, crackling fire she was starting to relax. Her whole body felt like lead.

“Is he going to contact the police?” Nick asked as he handed her glass back.

Gemma stared at the blood-red liquid. “He says not right away.”

Nick looked thoughtful. “Maybe he has a suspect in mind and wants to catch him red handed so he can turn him over to the authorities.”

“Maybe,” Gemma said with a shrug. “Bill Chambers thinks it’s Santa.”

Nick barked a laugh. “I did a little checking on your Santa.”

“He’s not my Santa,” Gemma protested.

“He sure was spending a lot of time hanging around your kiosk,” he said with a teasing smile.

“Jealous?”

Nick laughed again, softer this time, and caressed Gemma’s ankle and leaned his head against her knee. “Mr. Sam McLear owes back child support to at least one ex-wife and who knows how many more who aren’t even trying to collect. He's been married a few times.”

“Wow,” Gemma said but then added, “You know, I feel kind of bad for him. He’s great with the children, but all of the adults hate him. There’s one elf in particular, I think they call him Ralph, who is just furious with Santa all the time.”

“All the adults?”

“Well, except maybe Grady Jackson. I saw them talking when I left,” Gemma said, remembering the scene. “But come to think of it, Jackson didn’t look too happy either.”

“You should probably keep an eye on McLear,” Nick said quietly. “Whether you feel sorry for him or not.”

“Okay,” Gemma said.

“Be careful with your personal information around him,” Nick advised. “You don’t want him showing up on your doorstep or even getting your phone number.”

“Yes, sir, I promise,” she said getting to her feet. “Now, I’ve enjoyed the wine and the company but you need to go home and I need to get some sleep.”

She followed Nick to the front door and watched while he put on his coat and hat. Turning, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her tenderly. She inhaled his familiar scent and wrapped her arms around his lean, strong body, loving the way they fit together.

“You know I’m pretty proud of you,” Nick whispered.

“Thank you,” Gemma said, wiggling closer.

“I could stay tonight - if you want me to,” he suggested, raining kisses on her eyelids, cheeks and nose.

Gemma was tempted. Her whole body screamed for her to say yes. At the same time she knew that that kind of encouragement wouldn’t be fair to Nick or herself. She just wasn't ready.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” she finally said, regaining control of her senses, just barely.

“Yes, you will,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth one last time. “Yes, you will.”

G
emma was a few minutes late opening her kiosk and she couldn’t blame it on her car this time. She’d overslept a little bit and then gotten involved in placing their order for more products. Then she’d gotten sidetracked surfing the net looking for something special for Holly for Christmas. As she pocketed the key after letting herself into the kiosk, she realized she shouldn’t have worried. Hardly any of the other vendors had arrived. Bill Chandler worked alone in his kiosk surrounded by the sparkling sun catchers he had artfully displayed. There were maybe only half a dozen customers meandering from store to store. Even the Christmas carols playing over the PA system seemed subdued for once.