Santa's Posse (13 page)

“I appreciate it,”
she said earnestly.  She realized she was in a real bind, and there were few
people she could turn to.  She decided she would talk to Jill first thing in
the morning, since she was a long-time resident of the town and seemed to know
a lot of people.  With Jill and Miles on her side, surely she would be able to
deal with those hams.  “Thank you,” she added.

He smiled in
response to her gratitude, and then with relief when she picked up and bit into
the pizza slice.  “It’s delicious,” she told him.

Later, when he
kissed her goodnight at her door, his strong lips pressing against her softer
ones with exquisite tenderness, she forgot all about the trucks and hams.  And
when he left, closing the door behind him, she briefly leaned against the door,
sighing with pleasure at the memory of that kiss. 

Unfortunately,
later, as she settled into bed, the kiss was all but forgotten as visions of
hams danced in her head.

“Any luck?” Jill
asked Kellie as the two sat in her office, phone books opened in front of them.

She shook her
head.  “No.  Where do you look for trucks with refrigeration units?  I mean,
there are plenty of trucks and trailers to rent, but I haven’t found any businesses
that have vehicles with cooling units in the back.”

Jill checked her
watch.  “We don’t have much time.  Didn’t you say we have until five o’clock to pick up those hams?”

She nodded and
shrugged helplessly.  “We’re getting down to the wire.  I was sure I would be
able to make arrangements yesterday, but…” 

Jill perked up.  
“Hey, we could always just rent a truck and fill it up with ice.  It could
work.  It’s not as if we’ll have far to drive.”

“Unfortunately,
they have those pesky laws about food being kept at a consistently cold
temperature.  We can’t have the hams transported in uneven temperatures.”

“Well, I won’t
tell anyone if you don’t.”            

Kellie sighed.  “I’ll
just have to call the store and see if I can postpone the pickup.  I don’t know
what else to do.”

Suddenly, Miles
burst into the room.  “Okay, problem solved,” he said, and it was evident by
the rosy hue of his face and his breathlessness that he had hurried to her
office. “Operation Pork is a go.  I’ve got a guy picking up the hams in an
hour.  Did you talk to the restaurants in the food court?” he asked Kellie.

She nodded.  “Yep,
we have twenty on standby to take the hams,” she said with relief.  “Miles,
thank you!”

He smiled.  “Not a
problem.”

“Yeah, right,” she
said drolly.  “If you’ve had a morning like ours, you’ve been on the phone dealing
with Santa’s Posse business.  And if you’re anything like us, you have a
thousand other job-related items to tend you.”

He acknowledged
her words with a nod and a shrug, and then took a seat.  “It’s all for a good
cause.  Besides, I couldn’t leave you holding the…”  He chuckled.  “Hams.”

“And for that, I
am eternally grateful,” she said with a smile.  “So the hams should be here in
an hour or so…”  She glanced off thoughtfully, and then turned her attention
back to him.  “I have a two o’clock appointment, but I’ll cut it short.”

“Why would you do
that?” he asked.

“I’ll need to help
unload and distribute the hams,” she said matter-of-factly.

He grinned, and
she saw his eyes do a quick appraisal of her work wear.  His eyes lit on her
feet.  She wore pumps an inch or two taller than her customary dress shoe. 

“Okay, I should
have worn my running shoes, but…”

“Really, I’ve got
it covered,” he assured her.

She suddenly
looked triumphant.  “I’ll simply run by any one of the dozen or so shoe stores
in the mall and pick up a new pair.”

He gave her a
speculative glance.  “Naw, don’t waste your money.  My guys and I have it
covered.  Really, Kellie, no need to spend your money on a pair of shoes.  My
guess is, you have plenty.”  He arched his eyebrows playfully, prompting her to
give him a speculative look.

Had he noticed the
scores of shoes in her closet when he’d help put her new bed together? 
Granted, she had several pairs of shoes, but no more than your average woman. 
She was about to say as much, when Jill spoke up. 

“Did you two hear
that a storm is headed out way?  Weatherman is predicting snow.”

They glanced at
Jill with alarm.  “When?” they said in unison.

“Supposed to be
sometime this evening.”

Miles sighed
heavily.  “Okay, well, we’ll probably have the hams situated by then.”

“What are your
plans for Thanksgiving?” Jill asked him. 

“I’m supposed to
head south to Eugene for dinner with my youngest sister and her family, but…” 

“If a storm comes
in…” she said, letting the words trail off.

“It’s hard to say
how long it could last, if we actually get snowfall,” he finished for her.  He
turned to Kellie.  “Still planning on going to your folks’ place?”

“Yes.”

“Have you decided
if you’re going to stay the weekend?”

She shook her
head.  “I can’t miss Black Friday at the mall.”

“Well, you could…”
he mused.

She gave him a
chagrined glance.  “Well, I don’t want to,” she said lightly.

“Don’t want to
what?” a gruff, female voice asked from the doorway.

The group turned
toward Dolores, who was watching them expectantly. 

“Oh, we were just
discussing our Thanksgiving plans,” Kellie informed.

“Thanksgiving, schmanksgiving,”
she said testily.  “We have more important holidays to talk about.”

“Oh?” Miles
inquired, watching her questioningly.  “Personally, I’ve always rather enjoyed
Thanksgiving myself.”

“You know which
holiday I’m talking about,” she snapped.  “And we have a problem.  A big one,”
she declared ominously.

“We do?” he said,
frowning.  “What’s the problem, Dolores?”

She walked briskly
into the room and stood beside Kellie’s desk.  She shook her head and her
shoulders drooped.  “We’ve lost our Santa Claus,” she said in a sorrowful
voice.

Miles abruptly
rose from his chair.  “Craig’s dead!” he exclaimed.  “How?  When?  Why didn’t
someone tell me?”

She shook her head
ruefully.  “Craig’s not dead.  He’s just…”

“What?” he said
worriedly.  “Is he ill?”  He knew Craig Hogman would never give up playing the role
of Santa Claus for Santa’s Posse, unless something drastic had occurred to
prevent him from donning the red suit.

“He’s not ill. 
He’s going to…”

“Going to what?”
Miles demanded.  “What’s he going to do, Dolores?”

“It’s not what
he’s going to do, it’s where he’s
going
,” she said with a frustrated
shake of her head.  “He’s going to Florida, that’s what.  Over the holidays.  He’s
leaving on the sixteenth, which means he’ll be gone when we make our
deliveries.”

“Oh, okay,” Miles
said with relief.

“You sound
relieved,” Dolores accused.  “What have you got to be relieved about?”

“Well,” he said
reasonably, “I’m relieved Craig isn’t ill.  I’m relieved he’s taking a much
needed vacation.  I’m especially relieved he isn’t dead.”

She scowled at
him.  She quickly realized she wasn’t getting any sympathy from him.  “Okay,
well then, I’m glad you’re taking the news so well, since you obviously know
what this means?”

He shrugged,
glancing between Kellie and Jill uncertainly.  He turned back to Dolores and
lifted his shoulders.  “What does it mean?” 

“It means, Craig will
be dropping the Santa suit by your office tomorrow afternoon.  I told him if
you’re not there, to drape it over the back of your chair.” 

With a salute, she
turned on her heel and hurried out of the office before he could utter a word
of protest.  Protesting wasn’t a real possibility, however, since he’d just
lost the power of speech.

Miles stood in
front of a big mirror affixed to the door in the ‘Men’s’ restroom in the
precinct office.  He shuffled slightly, feeling uncomfortable and ridiculous in
the Santa suit.  Dolores, waiting outside, had insisted he wear the accompanying
belly belt so she could see the whole ‘bowl full of jelly’ effect.  Otherwise,
it took some imagination to envision him as Kris Kringle, since he was lean and
muscular and didn’t have an ounce body fat. 

He had, however,
refused to wear the beard, since it involved glue—and he didn’t have the time
or inclination to have to peel the glue off his face for a meeting later in the
day. 

With a sigh, he
stepped out of the restroom.  He blinked as a series of flash bulbs went off in
his eyes, and then startled when a chorus of catcalls erupted from the lobby. 
“Santa, baby!” a co-worker jeered. 

“Yeah, yeah, make
fun of me,” he mumbled.

“Santa, where’s
the flood?” another male voice called out.

“Hey, he looks
great,” a female voice said in his defense.  “It’s not his fault he’s tall and
the pant legs are too short.”   

“It’s nothing that
can’t be fixed,” Dolores mused, standing back and assessing the fit of the
suit.

“Santa,” his
coworker Tom said, “you need to cut back on the candy canes.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,”
he muttered, staring down toward his feet.  He couldn’t see his feet.   He
glanced up and around the room at the expectant faces of his friends.  “Don’t
you all have work to do?  Isn’t there a crime taking place
somewhere
?”  He
sought out Dolores within the growing crowd.  “Okay, are we good?  Can I get
out of this thing?  I’m roasting.”

“Don’t get your
red suit in a bundle,” she murmured, approaching with a grimace on her face. 
“We’ll need more white fur around the hem of the pants.  You’re taller than Craig.”

He sighed.  “Okay,
then we’re done?” he asked hopefully.

She shook her
head.  “No.  Stay put.  Those sleeves are a little too short too.”  She stood
back, studying the red suit with a critical eye.  “I’ll have to alter them.”

He waved off the
suggestion.  “I wouldn’t worry about it, Dolores.  Why alter it, when somebody
else will probably be wearing it next year?”

She gave him a
pointed look.  “What makes you think it won’t be you?”

He gave a
one-shouldered shrug.  “Just the same, I wouldn’t make any alterations you may
have to undo.”

“I’ll take my
chances,” she said with a steely glint in her eyes.

He expelled a
heavy sigh, glancing around the room.  He felt awfully conspicuous in the suit,
particularly when Kellie strolled past the precinct, only to back up and stop. 
She met his gaze, shook her head with a wide grin, and continued on her way.

“Aren’t you going
to ask her what she wants for Christmas?” a voice called out suggestively.

“Quick.  Call her
back.  Santa’s donned the suit and he’s ready for requests,” another voice
said.  “Get him a chair.  His lap is at the ready.”

“I’m done,” Miles
declared, turning on his heel and ducking into the restroom to change.  He was
eager to shed the suit, and more eager to catch up to Kellie.

Back in his
uniform, he stepped into the lobby, glad to see the group had dispersed.  He
carried the Santa suit draped over his arm. 

Dolores hurried
toward him and tugged it away.  “I need to get busy,” she said.  “So much to
do.  You make a great Santa,” she added, eyes twinkling.

“Thanks,” he said
without enthusiasm, and then strode out of the lobby and toward Kellie’s
office. 

There, Jill told
him she hadn’t returned yet.  He thanked her and detoured toward the food court
to grab a soda.  To his surprise, he found Kellie there, purchasing a smoothie.

Opting for one of
the frosty beverages himself, he joined her in line.  “Fancy meeting you here,”
he told her.

“Seeing you in
that suit made me warm,” she said with a shudder.

“It made me warm
too,” he said.  “It’s definitely North Pole wear.”

She nodded. 
“Doesn’t surprise me, you know.”

He furrowed his
brow, unsure what she was referring to.  “What doesn’t surprise you?”

“That Santa is a
cop in his off season,” she said.

He laughed. 
“Yeah, well, keeping those elves in line is good training.”

“I’m sure,” she
said as she ordered her smoothie.  “What’ll you have?”
He ordered, and whipped out a ten to pay for both drinks.  Kellie cocked her
head, trying to remember whose turn it was to pay.  “Stop that,” he said.  “No
need to keep score.”

“I’ll get it next
time,” she assured him.

“We’ll see,” he
mused.  “Hey, walk with me.”

She nodded and
together they strolled the upper tier of the mall.  Kellie couldn’t help
herself as she surveyed the storefronts, counting those that remained empty of
renters.  Miles couldn’t help himself as he instinctively surveyed the mall,
looking for lawbreakers.  The store owners and managers couldn’t help themselves
gawking at the couple walking past and speculating as to the nature of their
relationship.

Suddenly, Kellie
broke the silence.  “Thanks again for getting the hams yesterday, and unloading
them for me.”

He waved off the
gratitude.  “Not a problem.”              

She gave him a
dubious glance and chuckled.  “Yeah, wouldn’t count picking up one hundred fifty
hams during your work day, and then unloading them, a problem…”

“Had to be done,”
he said agreeably.

“Anyway, thanks
again.  Well, I should probably get back,” she said. 

“I suppose you
have to,” he said, meeting her gaze and mustering a smile. 

She gave him a
speculative gaze.  “You seem glum.”

“Just tired.   I’ll
be glad when the holiday season is over.”  He glanced off into the distance.

“I love the holidays,”
she declared.  “You’re working too hard.”