The Kid Who Stole Christmas (24 page)

Afterward, they both clung to the rim of the pool with one arm, and embraced tightly with the other, letting the currents buffet them about. They looked into each other’s eyes, and knew they had shared something special, something more meaningful because of the unspoken emotion between them.

“I want to try,” she said, pulling away from him at last and taking a few experimental strokes.

When she couldn’t quite get the hang of it, Rick moved to the middle of the pool and held her up by putting his hands under her stomach. It tickled at first, making her laugh and float to the back of the pool. But she tried again, and this time managed to get into the flow. Rick released her, and moved away, letting her work out the rest of her tensions as he had done.

When she was spent, he took her into his arms and carried her to a discovery of his own, one Leo hadn’t mentioned. By modern standards, it was a small hot tub, and much less high-tech than the pool, but there was something comforting about its rustic redwood and old-fashioned barrel shape.

Shannon sank into the water with a sigh, welcoming its soothing heat. She closed her eyes. When Rick didn’t join her right away, however, she opened them again and realized he had left the pool area entirely.

“Rick!”

“I’m upstairs,” he hollered back. “Be down in a jiffy.”

Though wondering what he was up to now, she felt the hot water call to her, and sank into it again. True to his word, Rick returned a minute or so later. He was carrying a tray laden with dark rye bread, assorted hunks of cheese and fruit and a bottle of white wine with two glasses.

“That looks good,” Shannon exclaimed. “And so do you. Any place with a naked waiter running around is definitely my sort of establishment.”

Rick placed the tray within easy reach and slipped into the hot water beside her. “An establishment that also has a well-stocked larder,” he said. “They prepared for this situation nicely, whatever it is. I’m hesitant to call it a kidnapping any longer.”

“I agree. And there’s something else interesting about this place.” Shannon took the glass of wine he offered and sipped at it before continuing. “It’s not a rental. The Jeffrieses own it. What’s more, they left bills and all sorts of personal stuff lying around. Obviously, they had some kind of a previous arrangement with the kidnappers.” She frowned. “I guess I’ll just call them Joey and Irv now.”

Rick passed her the tray. Shannon took a piece of cheese and nibbled it, feeling like a large, very contented mouse. But there was something nibbling at the back of her mind, as well. And she wasn’t alone in her suspicions.

“I have a theory,” Rick said. “If I mention it, will you promise not to get mad?”

“Yes. I have a theory, too, because of a name that kept cropping up in the Jeffrieses’ personal papers.”

Rick had the feeling they were talking about the same thing. But he was hesitant to say it. One fight a night was plenty. “Does your theory help to explain why Joey and Irv just happened to take off with Leo not long before we arrived?”

Shannon was having trouble saying it outright herself. “It does. And it isn’t dependent upon anyone’s having found the fake Arnies, either.”

They looked at each other and nodded. “It’s Pop.”

“I was looking for Nathan Bayer’s name, but found Pop’s, instead,” Shannon said. “Evidently, the Jeffrieses are old and very dear friends of his.”

“When they find the mess his other friends and Leo made upstairs, that might change,” Rick noted wryly. “It does explain how Joey and Irv knew to take off, though, doesn’t it? We call Pop about the cellular, he realizes we’re closer than he thought, so he calls them up and warns them.”

Shannon nodded. “And no wonder Pop managed to convince the police this was all a publicity gimmick. It is!”

“But is that all it is?” Rick wondered aloud. “And what about Joey and Irv? It’s hard to believe they really are friends of Pop’s, too, especially if the Bayers trusted them.”

“Clearly, this really did start out as a kidnapping, or at least an attempt to take control of the Arnie shipment,” Shannon agreed. “And at some point, Joey and Irv made a deal with Pop. But what sort of deal? And why?”

“I think these are all questions only Pop can answer.”

“And you better believe he will,” Shannon exclaimed. But then she stretched, put her glass of wine down on the tray and moved closer to him on the submerged redwood bench. “As soon as the roads are plowed, that is. Right now, we’re safe, I remembered that I gave the boys plenty of food this morning just in case, and I don’t know about you, but I’ve had more than enough sleuthing for one day.”

Chapter Twenty

P
aul Sanchez was standing just outside Lyon’s service entrance, breathing in the cold night air and taking a much-needed break from the crowds inside. Watching over the store could be an unpleasant task at Christmas, especially if he caught someone shoplifting, but it was one of those jobs that had to be done, and he was paid well for it. Not as well as when he’d been on the force, naturally. But since his hours were regular, and no one had even thought about coming at him with a knife yet, neither he nor his wife and three children had minded the drop in income one bit.

He caught sight of the bum out of the corner of his eye, and turned to observe him more closely, with a jaded ex-cop’s detachment. Like all urban downtown areas, Denver’s had a few transients—or homeless, to use the more current and politically correct euphemism. Most were only a danger to themselves, on a fast track to self-destruction.

This old guy looked to be one of those, except for the box he was carrying. He made his way unsteadily across the employee parking lot with it, heading for the Lyon’s building. Paul stayed where he was, just doing his job. He was pretty sure he knew what the fellow was up to.

It was very cold out. Snow was falling lightly, and there was already a skift of it covering the cars in the lot. From all accounts, the mountains were getting hit hard and the storm was expected to drift east into Denver later tonight.

Paul figured that the old guy was probably just looking for a warm place to sleep, and the mission wouldn’t let him bring a bottle in, so he thought he’d curl up on Lyon’s steam vent. The cardboard from the box would serve as a blanket and keep the snow off him.

Paul moved into the light so that the other man could see his uniform. “Hey, guy,” he said. “At least wait until I go off duty, okay?”

The man stopped in the shadows at the edge of the loading dock. “I have to speak to Pop,” he said.

Paul blinked. This wasn’t the sort of thing he expected to hear from a homeless ragamuffin. “Sorry. I don’t think he’s taking visitors this late.”

“Listen, sonny boy, I didn’t come here to take your guff.” He moved so that his face was in the pinkish glow of the sodium vapor lamps overhead. There was a cut over his left eye, and it was swelling shut. “I got this shiner trying to protect his property. Don’t ask me why,” he grumbled. “It was just plain stupid. But there’s a lot of that going around this time of year, I suppose.”

“What property?” Paul asked, frowning.

“The Arnies, of course.” The old man peered at him with his good eye. “For a hired gun, you sure don’t know much.”

At the mention of that name, Paul motioned for him to come up on the dock. “I know all about the Arnies. Question is, what do you know?” He eyed the box the old man held cradled in his arms. “Is that them?”

“None of your business! And I’m not in the mood for any more of your fool questions, either. I have to talk to Pop and right now! I told you I was trying to protect those things. Didn’t say I succeeded.” He touched his eye gingerly. “Not quite the man I used to be, you understand.”

Paul had no idea what the guy was going on about, but if it concerned the Arnies, Pop would want to hear it. “I guess I can take you up,” he said. “We can stop at the cafeteria and get some ice for that eye, too.”

The old man pushed away Paul’s helping hand. “I been walking on my own since before you were a glimmer in your papa’s eyes, sonny boy. I figure to keep doing it a while longer. Lead on.”

* * *

J
OEY WAS GETTING
worried. It was like watching a time bomb tick away the seconds to a horrendous explosion. Any moment, something terrible was going to happen, and there wasn’t the slightest thing he could think of to prevent it.

Leo and Irv were bored. After arriving at the Lyon house, they had played video games for a while, but Leo’s night nanny had decided he’d had enough of those and sent all three of them down to the playroom. This close to Christmas, however, there was nothing quite so boring to a child as his old toys, even with new friends to share them.

Besides, it wasn’t the lack of things to do, necessarily. It was the sudden removal of the things they had been doing for the last two days. The Lyon house was very pleasant, and no doubt a much better learning environment for a growing boy, but it wasn’t the Jeffrieses’ place. Leo wanted to play in that unusual pool. Irv wanted to watch thirty seconds of each of a hundred and fifty satellite stations one after the other.

They were, in a word, inconsolable. And something had to give. Joey sat in one of the playroom’s comfortable beanbag chairs, watching Leo watch Irv watch him. They were having a staring match, and Leo was winning.

“You blinked!” Leo exclaimed.

“Did not,” Irv objected.

“Did so!”

Joey closed his eyes. “Oh, man,” he muttered. “Here it comes. The mother of all spit-wad fights.”

But they were saved by the bell. Literally. Leo’s cellular phone rang, and Joey grabbed it off the card table at his side. “Pop, that you?”

It was. As Joey listened to what the older man had to say, his eyes widened and his mouth dropped open.

“You’re kidding!” Joey exclaimed.

Irv and Leo were practically on top of him, trying to find out what was going on. “What?” Leo asked.

“Shh. I’m on the phone, kid.” Joey held up his hand for silence. “Okay, Pop. Don’t worry, we’ll go get ‘em.”

“Who?” Leo demanded. “Get who? Is it the Arnies?”

“Shh! Hey, Pop, I can take Leo, can’t I?” Joey asked. When he nodded, Leo went into paroxysms of pleasure. “Good, because if I left him here, you might not have a house left when you got home. And don’t worry, we’ll be careful. Bye.”

Joey hung up the phone and looked at the pair of children in his charge, one eight, the other twenty-eight. He grinned, feeling a bit childlike himself at the moment.

“Boys, grab your coats. We’ve got a rescue mission.”

Among much hooting, hollering and dour looks by Leo’s nanny, the trio left the house and piled into the fancy four-wheel-drive vehicle parked in Pop Lyon’s driveway.

“Are we going to save the Arnies, Agent Joey?” Leo asked.

“Yeah, kid.” He grinned. “I mean, Agent X. But first, we’re going into the mountains to rescue Shannon and Rick.”

“Do the spies have them?”

Joey shook his head. “No, I think they’re just stuck in the snow.” That sounded boring, even to him. “But you never know, I guess. So we’ll have to be careful.”

“Yeah!” Leo exclaimed. “Put the snowplow blade up and dodge the bullets.”

Irv hooted loudly. Then he frowned and leaned close to Joey and whispered in his ear. “But I though we were supposed to be hiding from those two, Joey.”

“Not anymore. They’re on our side now.”

“Who says?”

“Pop. And since he’s paying the bills, he calls the shots.”

Irv nodded. “Right. Oh, and Joey?”

“Yes, Irv?”

“There aren’t really going to be any bullets, are there?”

Joey grinned at him. “You never know, Agent Irv.”

* * *

A
FTER A DELIGHTFUL SOAK
in the hot tub, Shannon and Rick had gone back upstairs, where they sated the appetite their cheese and fruit tray had whetted on a more substantial meal. They had then adjourned to the entertainment room.

It took a small cleaning frenzy, but they at last deemed it fit for adult habitation again and relaxed on the couch, sipping eggnog and watching a black-and-white version of
A Christmas Carol
on one of the satellite channels.

But finally their busy day caught up with them, and neither one made it through to Scrooge’s reclamation. They fell asleep in each other’s arms, oblivious to the ghosts of past, present and future. Except for the low voices of the movie on television, all was quiet, especially the snow-blanketed landscape outside.

Around ten, however, a sound that didn’t fit into the peaceful scene reached their groggy brains, and they came slowly awake. It was a growling, scraping sort of noise. Then, as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Rick reached over and muted the television. In the near-total silence that followed, he and Shannon heard something moving on the front porch.

“Rick?” she asked sleepily. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. But keep your head down. I’ll—”

Suddenly, three commandos dressed in identical parkas and ski masks came bursting through the door, two big ones and a little one.

“Agent X fires a burst to soften up any resistance!” the little one cried.

A snowball came flying over the couch and hit the remains of Rick’s and Shannon’s eggnog, spilling it all over everything.

“Direct hit!” Irv cried. “Now me, kid.”

Leo moved farther into the room, continuing his blow-by-blow commentary. “Agent Irv, a cagey veteran of the Arnie wars, sneaks slowly into the room. Agent X covers him. But wait! Agent Joey is making a full frontal assault! What bravery! He’s a goner for sure!”

A pudgy, nearly bald man wearing a fleece-trimmed parka appeared at the edge of the couch and looked down at Shannon and Rick. “Hi, guys. We didn’t catch you flagrante delicto, did we?” He saw that they were fully clothed and nodded. “Ah. Good. My men are kind of sensitive souls,” he said with a wink.

Shannon was fully awake now. She sat up on the couch. When she saw Leo, tears welled up in her eyes and she jumped up, running to him. He accepted her hugs and kisses with as much decorum as possible.

“Oh, Leo! I missed you so much!”